#i brung you a present

[indecisivelyrics]

@monstersandmaw 🥲

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: I'm feral for this man and this song + struggling w my writing format ( im new to this omg )

JADED | AARON PIERRE.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( finger!ng), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

tell me that we locked in, locked in, look in my eyes.

tell me that you mine and we ain't just fuckin, ain't just vibin.

Why were you nervous? It wasn't like you'd never been in the very same GMC pickup before—oh you'd been in here plenty times, plenty times. Your eyes flickered to whatever they could, other than him.

The backseat.

The same backseat you'd been folded. flipped, and fucked out on. It was clean now, he'd definitely had some detailing done, the remnants of how he made you squirt only two weeks earlier had vanished, once etched into the seat itself.

And why were you sad about that?

You averted your eyes away from the backseat, firmly turning straight forward in the passenger seat, teeth nervously gnawing at the skin in your jaw. It was way too silent and tense in the truck. Way too silent. "Hi..” you sheepishly muttered, tucking a stray curl from your wash and go behind your ear, eyes darting around the parking lot of your apartment complex. The parking lot was the safest option for you, you knew how incredibly intoxicating Terry was, which meant the more space from your bedroom, the better.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Terry's face contorted into a twisted mix of confusion anger. His brows furrowed together, a mug presenting itself on his face. "What the fuck?" He spat. "Wassup?" He asked, his tone more accusatory than anything.

Where the fuck did he get off acting hurt and confused? That was supposed to be your stance in this whole thing, hurt and confused. And most of the time it was. But tonight, it was a nice change of pace, the hurt and confusion lingered on Terry instead—in which you could finally take on the nonchalant and curt demeanor. It felt so good too. So good to finally not be the one with the lump in their throat, eyes burning from blinking back tears. This felt, good.

"Nothin', just chillin," you simply responded, playing with the smartphone in your lap, acrylic nails tapping at the casing.

"Fuck you mean just chillin?" He asked his brows furrowed as he tried to catch your darting eyes. "You ain't been seein' me text you?"

"Yeah?" You responded slowly in a questioning tone, as you focused on the ASICS on your feet. "Been busy lately."

You seen Terry texts. Shit, the past couple of days he'd been the one blowing you up. It started the other night when he rung your bell and you didn't answer, you knew it was him, and he knew you were home. Lights still on and bright in the kitchen.

Private Ryan: Just rung the bell

Private Ryan: Come out.

Private Ryan: I'm sorry for the way I acted the other night. I ain't handle that situation like a man. Lemme make it up to u

It was so hard ignoring Terry, he made it hard. He didn't text or call often, he wasn't hardcore into his phone like the rest of the generation, maybe the marines played a part in that? Hell, he made sure to stay active in an effort not to get addicted to his cellular device—that's why when he texted it was a big deal.

But no way this nigga thought that you'd be at his every beck and call when he couldn't even solidify a title between the two of you? Casual sex and jealousy gets old—especially when it isn't under the terms of a relationship.

It was fun at first, linking up and sneaking off. Getting folded like a lawn chair when you least expected it, but there was something about Terry that brung the strings to a no-strings-attached situation. You started craving him, wanting him, and you made that very clear, but Terry made his intentions crystal clear from the beginning. How could you fault him for not wanting what you want? But how he could he also fault you for the change in your attitude?

"Busy?" He repeated the word like it disgusted him. His burning gaze tore through you, you could feel the heat radiating from his glare. Terry let out a heavy breath, gently tapping his fist against the staring wheel as he finally averted his gaze to the windshield. Thank Q!

But as he tore his gaze away from you, you centered yours on him. And why the fuck would you go and do that? Knowing how gorgeous he was, especially when he was pissed off? Clenching and unclenching his jaw. He had some nerve coming over here with a fresh cut. Everything so lined up and sexy—

"I came over here, a few days ago," he sternly spoke, the rough edge to his voice only setting off the throbbing in your pussy, "and you know that 'cause you was home, lights on and shit, I'm textin' you and you reading the shit in real time. What the fuck?" He repeated the three words once again. His voice growing rougher by the second.

"Two weeks ago, I'm fillin' you up and today you actin' cold as hell? Fuck is goin on?"

And why did he keep saying all the wrong shit? Filling you up was an understatement, he was stuffing you to the brim quite literally, to the point where he had bottomed out and was still tryna give you more. Filling you up, ha.

"I can't do this anymore, Terry," the words came out of your mouth abruptly, almost like you could trust yourself to say them. Terry sat there unwavering, he didn't speak, he didn't move. This only prompted you to continue. "It's too much, we both want...different things. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm overextending myself to you, being too available for you. I can't do...whatever this is anymore."

"Pea..”

"Don't do that," you firmly responded. The direct eye contact didn't seem to deter you this time. There he went. Playing those mind games. Calling you that nickname. Pea. A shorter version of the popular nickname your grandfather frequently referred to you as, sweet pea.

Terry kissed his teeth. Oh he thought he knew what was up. It'd became clear as a day. "You fuckin' somebody else." The words came out soft, quiet almost as if there had been a realization.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling at the comment, " I'm not having sex with anyone, Terry." You spoke truthfully. As if you could. He made that hard enough, he stuffed you perfectly. He knew how to find that spot inside of you so easily, almost like he vacationed there in his spare time. He knew exactly what made your eyes roll back, what made that squeal in the back of your throat come barreling out, he knew your body too well to let anyone else come and have a gander.

"But I am dating," you said more quietly than you anticipated. Maybe it's because the recent dates haven't been anything to brag about. Not that your online dating profile and messages to your homegirl hadn't been highly specific, you've been attracting the same types. Baby daddies and men way too old to still be trying to just hook up. "And I know what I want, and it's not this...anymore. I wanna be able to climb in bed with a man and wake up beside him too, and not worry about him being hot or cold, or when I'll see him again," yuck. Why did you feel that damn lump in your throat again?

"I'm so tired of feeling disposable." You finalized. Flashing your watery eyes to the window adjacent to you. You weren't gonna cry in front of him. Shit, you weren't that tender. But all your feelings hitting you at once in this situation made you more emotional than you gambled for. You knew the nonchalant facade would only last so long on you. Terry was trained in that shit. He had a poker face like no other.

Terry didn't deter his gaze from you, his gorgeous eyes soft and lingering. "I don't try to make you feel disposable, Pea."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to try. You just do." You mumbled quietly. "That's why I don't wanna do this shit anymore."

Terry kept his eyes on you, reaching his large hand out to grasp your smaller one at a failed attempt at interlacing your fingers when you snatched away.

"Stop, Terry!" You frowned folding your arms. "I'm serious. No more calling, and texting, and popping up at my place."

He barely acknowledged you, kissing his teeth and leaning over the center console to rub his hand across your tummy, gripping your sides. "Why you actin' like that? Like you don't miss daddy?" He mumbled softly, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

This man didn't give up. Your restraint was at zero, and just like that you were putty.

You shook your head, arms still crossed as you let out a small whimper in which you claimed to be a protest. Eyes lowering at his wandering hands. "Hm, you don't miss daddy?" He asked in response, his hand sliding back over your tummy, fingers fondling with the button on your shorts.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, that was the whole point of the parking lot. Far away from a bed. But you should've known that you didn't need a bed with Terry.

And yet, just like a dumb bitch you shook your head once again. Playing into his sick little game.

He trailed his soft, teasing lips down your cheek until he reached your neck, leaving a searing trail behind on the skin there. You sucked your bottom lip in, a solid attempt at trying to keep whatever moans he was pulling out of you at bay. You couldn't betray yourself even more than you had already done. You came down here to end things, and instead you were about to get folded in half once again. The circle of life if you will.

"You don't miss me? So why you lettin' me take these off you right now?" He asked. Oh he was soo condescending. He tugged on the bottom of your shorts, and look at you, lifting up to help him earning a chuckle. You were so easy. "Nipples been hard ever since I touched you," he mumbled in between kisses to your neck, his hand busying itself up to your breast while your shorts slid down your legs, rubbing your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You suck in a sharp breath. Your body was on fire. You felt like you were on fire. Every kiss made you hotter, and the way he was touching you had your pussy fluttering. You had to be ovulating, this shit wasn't normal.

"That pussy so wet, I know it," he spoke, his voice lower, lips sucking on the thin flesh on the side of your neck, hand roughly parting your thighs earning another isolated whimper from you. His hand rubbing the inside of your thighs, leaving a lingering tingle behind. He was such a fucking tease sometimes.

He kissed his way back to your cheek, all the while his hands left soft slaps, and grips to your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered closed at his constant teasing, breathing uneven as hell. You felt like you were swelling with need.

"Look at you, baby," he hummed against your ear, "you a horny fuckin' mess," he tsk'd in your ear, fingers dancing over to your pussy. Fingers lazing dancing over your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. A shaky breath slipped past your lips a soft drawn out moan following. Hell, the betrayal was already done.

"Niggas not treatin' my bitch right, huh?" He rhetorically asked referring to your dates, his own eyes focusing on the lazy dance his fingers were doing on your barely exposed pussy, until he quickly got bored and used those same fingers to move the fabric aside. "Can't be, otherwise you wouldn't be this fuckin' turned on right now." He answered his own questions, fingers immediately doing slow, hypnotizing circles on your clit.

"Fuhhh," you moaned out in response, arms immediately parting so that you could grip onto the sides of your seat for a sense of stability.

"Mhm," he hummed in response, "pussy wet just like I thought," he mumbled dragging his pointer and middle finger up and down your pussy a few times before slowly slipping the both of them in your heated core at once earning a choked out moan from you. You fit around his fingers so perfectly, almost as if he'd molded your pussy to do so.

His brows furrowed as his fingers searched inside of her, knuckle deep, "fuck," he cursed, "look how you suckin' my fingers in you like that. You missed daddy, this fuckin' pussy missed me."

It wasn't like you could respond at all, he was literally pulling your moans out of you with his fingers. His free hand had busied itself with pulling up your tank top and exposing your braless titties.

"Look how you came out here," he kissed his teeth, fingers massaging your slippery insides, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching on his fingers filled the pickup truck, his other fingers pulling and tugging on your hardened nipples, squeezing softly before quickly pulling away. "Barely fuckin' dressed, you wanted this. You wanted daddy to get you right, huh?"

"Talkin' about' dates, you don't want them fuckin' clowns," he hummed peppering soft kisses on your cheek, his fingers attacking that delicious spot inside of you. "You just want daddy to flood that pussy again? Make you his bitch?"

"Oouu shit, daddy!" You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut as your head lazily fell against his shoulder. Him humming in agreement to your moans followed by a cocky chuckle. "Right there, right there!" You rushed out. Your resolve had slipped away a long time ago.

"Where baby?" He cooed,his tone condescending. "Right here?" He asked his fingers never deterring from the spot, instead he pushed them deeper, faster.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his fingers continued to work inside of you, he whispered other obscenities to you as he finger fucked you good. Deliciously good. So good that you couldn't decipher or comprehend anything he'd been saying. The sound of your pussy around his fingers was sending you to another bliss you didn't know you could reach.

"Listen to how messy that pussy sound on my fingers, baby," he groaned, his free hand gripping your face firmly, tilting your head up from his shoulder so that he could watch your facial expressions closely. He smiled as he watched you; eyes squeezed shut, lips forming into that familiar frown he knew so well, a long whine following suit.

"Yeah, that pussy wanna cum for daddy don't she?" He asked placing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.

"Oh my god," you whined your brows furrowing as you opened your watery eyes to Terry looking down right at you.

"Yeah, she do," he mumbled nodding his eyes focusing in on the assault his fingers were doing to your pussy before slipping them out slowly, rubbing the stickiness he accumulated on his fingers onto your clit in slow, agonizing circles earning a whine from you. "You better not fuckin' cum though," he mumbled quietly to you, hand softly tapping against your cheek.

"Don't..cum?" You slurred through a moan for confirmation. You could barely comprehend what he was saying, you were so deliciously close. So close.

"Don't cum," he slapped his finger against your pussy lightly, the wet plaps almost enough to send you over the edge. Only almost though. "Get in the backseat, I wanna get in that pussy." He spoke hand slapping down on your sensitive pussy once again, sending trembles to your already weakened legs.

—

cheers to my first fanfic on here lolz! feedback and criticism always welcome 💗💕 hope you enjoyed xx!

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[luvyeni]

CONSEQUENCES OF A ONE NIGHT STAND. ( chapter. 14)

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: telling the parents (fail) ...

— 𖦹 warnings?

previous - next - masterlist

"jungwon , stop complaining." his mother rolled her eyes , sitting the food down on the table. "im just saying i can't believe i had to sleep on the air mattress." you laughed at your bestfriend , all these years later and he still whined to his parents.

"because she's pregnant jungwon , she can't sleep on the air mattress." you smiled cheekily , of course you could've slept on the air mattress , you planned on doing so , giving your bestfriend his bed back — you just wanted to piss him off. "my name isn't jake , he's the one that got her pregnant , not me."

"jungwon enough, eat your breakfast " you stuck your tongue out , your phone rang , you picked it up , reading the daily good morning text and check up from jake. you smiled , texting him back. "speaking of the devil." jungwon said. "look at that smile , for someone who claims they're just in it for the baby , you surely are cheesing hella hard." you rolled your eyes. "hush up , it was only a good morning text."

"i just can't believe you're with child , jakes none the less." jungwons mom fed you more food. "he is a wild one , i was surpised when wonie brung him home during spring break."

"well as long as he helps out with the baby , he's free to do whatever he wants , date whoever he wants." you said , something in the back of your head saying you didn't really mean that , but you pushed it down. "now that i think about it." jungwon started. "i don't think i've seen or heard him talk about another girl , for the month it's been all about you and the baby in the group chat , i almost kicked him out because of it."

"you're a professional hater , you know that right?" he smiled. "like it's a full time job."

"you're gonna tell your parents today right?" his mom spoke up , you sighed nodded. "how do you think they'll take it." you shrugged. "horrible if my predictions are correct." you never got along with your parents , being the oldest sibling , your parents always set the standards at a unreachable level , and would get mad when you would fail.

your younger sister on the other hand — being the baby and all , was treated with love and care , given everything she wanted , even if her grade were horrible. when she turned 18 for her graduation present wanted to travel to europe for a year with her friends , your parents funded the whole trip. when you were 18 you asked them to help you with your books for college , they said they were already paying for half your tuition and they couldn't do it.

when your sister said she didn't want to go to college like they pressured you into doing , but instead she wanted to be a youtuber , they bought her an entire set up that cost thousands of dollars , but when you asked could they help you with the down payment for your cafe , they refused , if it wasn't for jungwons parents you would've probably be in debt.

it's safe to say you've pretty much cut contact with them , and now you have a successful cafe , and they're still financially supporting your sister who is now an adult.

"well you are always welcomed here , that baby will always have a home here." you smiled , standing up to hug the woman who was more like your mother than your actually mother. "thank you , so much for that."

"we don't have to be at your parents house for dinner until 8 , so we have time." jungwon said. "wonie , how about you let ( name ) handle this on her own." mrs. yang spoke , washing the dishes. "what the hell am i supposed to do then?" he said. "uh spend time with your mother."

you grabbed his hand reassuringly. "she's right , i can do it on my own , spend time for your mom , it's not every day you visit her." he nodded. "if that's what you want bubs , then i guess i can stay here and wait , text karina and make sure sunoo is doing his job." you hugged him. "i'll be fine i swear."

after helping with the chores , you decides to finally suck it up and get dressed — thinking of multiple ways you could tell your parents , each resulting in them being horrible as the next. "where are my car keys?" you paced back and forth. "you mean the ones in your hand?" you looked down , sighing. "you don't have to do this alone." he said. "i do , i just need to get it over with." you slipped your shoes on.

"okay." you huffed , finally ready to leave. "i'm gonna go now." you took one of his sweaters. "make sure they aren't burning my store down." he reassured you , pushing you out the door "okay , okay go , you're late." he said. "good luck honey." mrs.yang yelled , you thanked her knowing you'll definitely need it.

after 25 minute drive to your house , and 15 wait outside your door , you finally worked up the courage to get out of the car , walking to the door , knocking on the door. you heard the old family dog barking , before silence , the unlocking of the locks nerve wracking , the door swinging open. "you're late."

you and your sister stared each other down. "you look fat." she turned , letting you walk into the house. "take your shoes off , the mother just cleaned." you complied , deciding not to argue. "i did live here at one point."

you bent down , petting the old dog , who jumped at your side. "hi girl , it's been a while." you let her lick your palm. "everyone is in the dining area."

you let out a inhale , exhaling before walking into the dining area. "next time call when you're gonna be late." your sister sat down , you could tell this was not gonna be easy. "me and jungwon got caught up." you sat down. "of course , you spend more time with that boy than you do your own family." your mom passed out the dishes.

"well im surprised you even noticed." you said. "are you talking back?" you shook your head. "no mother."

the dinner went by just as you suspected , your family saying sly comments about you and your life , and you praying to god to escape — almost calling it quits and leaving many times. "can we just stop beating around the bush." your sister said.

"it's been 4 years since you left , you've block everyone on social media , we have to hear from mrs.yang about you , so why are you here?" you guess it was time , sitting down your utensils , sighing. "well i came because i have something to tell you."

"is it about your business? because we've already told you we're not- i didn't come here because i need something , my god can you just listen for a second." you snapped , making them go silent , you huffed , before speaking.

"well." you gulped , i just wanted to tell you guys that , i am pregnant." you watched their eyes widen , before your mom sat her utensils down. "pregnant?" she questioned. "yes."

it was so silent , you thought that they could hear your heart beating out of your chest. "can't say im surprised." your mom said. "what does that mean?" you scoffed. "you've always been know to make stupid decisions." she said. "it was only a matter of time before you gotten yourself pregnant." "do you know the baby's daddy? is he your boyfriend? why isn't he here?" your sister spoke.

"of course i know him , and no jake isn't my boyfriend." you said. "you're having a baby with someone you're not even with." your sister shook her head. "so it was a mistake?" you were growing annoyed. "does that matter, the baby is coming regardless."

"you didn't think to get rid of it?" you scoffed at your mother. "are you serious right now?" you said. "i should've come here." you stood up. "what are you gonna do now?" your dad said. "gonna come crawling back to us for money , much like before with the cafe , you can't keep asking the yangs for money , they'll eventually get tired of you."

you scoffed , more liked laughed. "that's what you think?" you nodded. "my shop is doing way better." you said. "i didn't come here for money , i just came to check something." you said. "guess i was right." you walked out of the kitchen.

"i won't be back again." was all you said before you grabbed your shoes , walking out the house to your car. you climbed into the car , driving off , and you just kept driving , straight past the yangs house , you couldn't stay in your home town any longer.

— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @j-wyoung @whoslai @cha0thicpisces @sunsunl0ver @wonyoungsvirus @omgtintarr @en-dazed @kwiwin @httpsrinrin @igotkpoops @enhaz1 @ahnneyong @electrobutterfly @nes-caf @beomgyusonlywife @jup1t3r-y30n @gyulune @mixtape-racha @ddazed-lhs @shuichi-sama @chaelinhhwang @stariszn @rikisly @ilikekpop-c @jenjnk @ilovehimyourhonour @peachyun02 @primroselover @sxurgrapes

©️LUVYENI

[unohanabbygirl]

Hiding in plain sight pt 2

So I’ve decided to continue this drabble and turn it into a complete fic. In the meantime while I plan the long version please enjoy this sneak peek.

Warnings: mention of past non con

- - -

The knights give Luke a choice, come with them of his own volition or be taken by force. Everything in Luke is screaming at him to fight back, to rage that this was all a big mistake. However, as he felt Osferth tremble in his arms like a leaf, unconsciously letting out the scent of frightened omega he knew what choice he had to make.

As the men escort them out Luke keeps a tight hold on his son, making sure to assure him that everything will be fine in the end. Humming a soft melody that his own mother once sang to him whenever he awoke from one of his many childhood nightmares.

Luke doesn’t know if his words are meant to comfort Osferth or himself at this point. All he knows is that his pup calms down considerably, letting out little whimpers as he buries his face in Luke’s neck as if trying to hide from the strange men.

They make it to a small carriage and are pushed inside. Luke hisses at one of the knights as they hold onto Osferth’s hip on the guise of ‘helping him’

Osferth goes still at the touch and his scent rottens, letting out a smell similar to spoiled meat. He’s a newly flowered omega, a late bloomer whose only interaction with an alpha since his presentation has been his great grandsire during his short visits. Corlys is much older and not as strong as he once was, his scent is no where near as powerful as it was a decade ago.

The man laughs at the protective stance Luke takes, calling him a weak bitch and slamming the carriage door in his face, almost getting his fingers caught in the door.

The omegas can hear the mocking laughter and quips about weak whoring omegas from the men as they prepare to take off.

Luke hugs his son, still shook by the Knights unwanted touch. Osferth was scared and Overwhelmed and confused. Luke never felt like such a failure as his precious pup began to sob.

He always tried his best to educate Osferth, making sure to never shy away from the topic of dynamics, especially what’s its like to live as an omega. The uncomfortable heats, enhanced sense of smell, and physical changes in your body as it now sees you a vessel to carry children were all things he was open and honest about.

His son hadn’t presented until the year before at sixteen, even later than his mother as it was normal for presentation to occur around twelve or thirteen.

Luke always saw the signs though, the way Osferth never liked to roughhouse with the other pups in their old village, his sensitive and emotionally vulnerable nature, how he’d rather cuddle and chat with Luke instead of going out and being adventurous.

He hated any and all things violent no matter what they were. Corlys would often bring storybooks as gifts during his visits as Osferth greatly enjoyed reading. He usually brung tales of brave knights and bloody battles, yet his great grandson shed away from the frightening fables.

On a random visit one day mid spring Corlys came with five books in tow once again. But this time the tales were of fae like creatures and beautiful princesses. Osferth enjoyed them greatly, face lighting up as he read the words aloud while Corlys listened happily and Luke prepared dinner.

All omegas weren’t like that. Some did prefer fighting and dreamed of being war heroes, but it was most common for them to be softer and less inclined to harsh lifestyles.

Luke himself had been that way, shy and soft, despising the heavy weight of a sword no matter if it was wooden or steel. The only time he had physically hurt another was that night in Driftmark.

The only reason no one ever took note of his lack of alpha characteristics was because his mother and father were alphas just as both their parents before them. However, his true father Ser Harwin had been a beta with an omega mother. A fact no one took into consideration when thinking of Luke’s second gender, sweeping the truth under the rug as if that would make it go away.

Had his mother acknowledged his true sire and see his actions for what they truly were rather than lying to herself perhaps things would’ve worked out differently. Perhaps she would’ve thought harder before agreeing to send him to Lord Borros shitty castle.

“You will be welcomed, you have Baratheon blood from your grandmother Rhaenys.” She said softly, the look in her eyes betraying her own words.

He would’ve never been held down as Aemond forced his knot inside of him. Grunting in his ear like a crazed animal as he used the blood from Luke’s stolen maiden head as lube.

Luke’s jaw clenched as his fists curled up in anger. After all these years he felt nothing but hatred for Aemond. Doing what he did to him then leaving without a second glance like Luke was a worthless whore.

Sometimes he wondered how he could look at his son, the spitting image of his cruel sire yet have his chest fill with warmth. He met other omegas in the past years who were in similar situations to himself, raped and left with a child. They all loved their children dearly, but couldn’t stand look at them as they served as a permanent reminder.

Luke gently touched Osferth’s cheek, patting it lovingly as he whispered that everything would be just fine and they would return home as soon as possible.

The carriage took off with Osferth shedding a single tear as the view of the home he lived in for most of his life and housed so many happy memories disappeared into the distance.

“Mother, please tell me what’s going on. What do these men want with us?” Osferth cried.

Luke bit his trembling lip, knowing that he could no long lie to his babe. He stupidly thought he could hide Osferth from the truth forever, allow for him to live a normal peaceful life without the judgmental stares and inhumane treatment of those deemed to be bastards.

The blanket of legitimacy Corlys placed over him would mean nothing to a court of vipers, regardless of it was his mothers court now.

“There is much I have never told you my love. You may be upset now, but please remember that my intentions have always been protect you.” Luke confessed as he held Osferth’s hand to his beating heart.

All he could do was hope his love didn’t resent him after.

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ １４ － Ｓｅｃｒｅｔ Ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐ

－ Adore You - T'Challa Udaku - Marvel's Black Panther

－ In which being in a secret relationship is never easy, but the King shows his affection in the little ways that matter.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

You’d always admired T’Challa from afar.

He was a man of many things; talent, charm, compassion, care. He warmed the hearts of all those he met, leaving smiles in his wake as he threaded through the world, carving his own legacy in the actions he did. He’d stolen your heart, just as he did everyones. It would only be later that you’d find out that the feat was an intentional one.

Your little escapades started in his princely youth, but with someone with so much to lose, the best gambit was to be like the air that surrounded you two - when it came to your love, the invisibility of it to the regular eye was key. It was a dance the both of you mastered by the time T’Challa had taken on the mantle of Black Panther, taking on newfound abilities that scared the both of you just as much as it deepened your connection with one another.

You took your fears and turned it into something tangible, channeling it into a positive force that could benefit the both of you instead of tearing you down. That is how the first sketches of the new Black Panther suit came to fruition, and with the help of Shuri, the ingenious inventor princess with undeniable sass and wit, the first prototypes were completed within the coming months. While Shuri had been the one to present to the King his new, high tech, insanely more practical Black Panther suit that would aid him in his missions much more efficiently, the comments of its intricacies didn't go unnoticed by the Princess, who was sure to relay them down the pipeline.

However, this was the extent of what you could do to show your affections for T’Challa, and for the most part, you were fine with it. You were busy enough as a scientist working at the most high-tech and top lab in the world; time wasn’t necessarily friendly to you, either. You were satisfied with the meetings and kind smiles and longing stares you two shared.

It never occurred to you that maybe T’Challa wasn’t, or felt that he could be doing more, because when you approached your home one night after clocking out from your shift at the lab, you found a black box with the Golden Tribe insignia etched onto the top. You grabbed the small box and brung it inside with you, setting it on your kitchen island along with the rest of your belongings before directing all of your attention to it.

You examined the outside of it first before curiosity took control of you, and upon opening the box, you were met with something that made your eyes go wide and your heart skip a beat for a few seconds. Inside, lying against a tiny black velvet pillow, was a small charm bracelet with black claw-like gems and obsidian beads. It was a smaller version of the Black Panther necklace you had designed with Shuri, the final prototype that T’Challa now wore as a staple of his everyday attire.

A tiny slip of paper poked out from underneath the velvet pillow, and upon pulling it out and reading it, you smiled: a piece of me, as i have of you.

The next day, you received compliments on the new piece of jewelry that rested on the same wrist as your kimoyo beads. Despite the gushing of the sentimental value it represented for the protector of your nation (and the knowing stare from one princess), only you would know the truth behind it.

[caffeinecoffeesnek]

A Rat and a Squealing Frog

Remus is bored as can be, in desperate need to get rid or let his ler mood out, so when he sinks out he finds a unsuspecting victim or should I say, side, to help him out

Tickle fic!

(Includes: Remus, Tickles, rough tickling, possible Intruality? Short fic, reference(s) of the word ‘Daddy”, swearing, tickling death spots, tell me if I forgot any)

Remus huffed as he threw his knife at his wall, the tip getting in bedded in the wall with a ‘twang’ noise. What caused this? Remus was in a huge Ler mood and in desperate need to tickle someone, to hear their laughter and screams, their begs and pleads as he or well his tentacles tickled them silly in their worse spots.

Remus whined an just sunk out, deciding on the first person he saw he would go for, he needed to get rid of his huge Ler mood. He rose up in the Living space an looked around. Eyes landing on Patton who was making cookies in the kitchen, completely unaware of Remus’s presents. Remus grinned as his tentacles came out from his back, finding the perfect target. He quickly sped over as his tentacles latched onto Patton and trapped him, causing Patton to jump and frog scream out of fright.

Remus laughed and sunk back to his room with a very panicked Patton who was tightly wrapped in his tentacles that were so eager to just start already.

He rose up and Patton looked around petrified “R-Remus where am I?! W-W-What’s going on?!” “Oh calm your dicks pops, I ain’t gonna hurt cha but your gonna be here a while since I- or we, need desperate help~ and be prepared to loose your voice and mind for a while!”

Remus explained as he happily sat in his torn old chair, leaving Patton confused before he suddenly burst out laughing which quickly grew to hysterics as tentacles went under his shirt and started tickling his belly as 1 even dipped onto his bellybutton. Remus grinned as he watched Patton who was held up by 2 tentacles around his wrists as 3 others attacked his belly and his armpits as he wriggled around and laughed and squealed in hysterics.

"Awwwee! whats the matter patty?! does it tickle? is the little gigglebug ticklish?" Remus teased as Patton laughed an squirmed around. "REHEHEMHMUS! PLHEHEHAHSE!"

"What was that? please more! Oh of course Patty!" "NHOHOHO! W-WAHAHIHT!" Patton only managed to barely get two words out before he wailed in his beautiful laugher an screams as the tentacles moved from his armpits and belly down to his thighs as others worked on getting his shoes an socks off.

Patton kicked his legs around in a desperate attempt to break free from this tickly torture he was now stuck in. Two other tentacles soon grabbed his ankles as well an held him still as more started wriggling or suctioning on an off from his soles an toes while more absolutely destroyed his thighs and poor helpless Patton could only wail an scream in laugher as tears streamed down his face, all the while remus was sat back an watching in pure joy.

Remus soon got a idea an brung him over to his lap, the tentacles stopping to give him a break as Patton giggled an panted for air, The tentacles let go of him but before Patton could move Remus tied his wrists again an ankles an tied his big toes together.

That made Patton burst into anticipated giggles as Remus smirked an put his feet in his lap as he tentacles moved to a stronger grip on Patton. He blushed when he felt cold liquid being poured over his toes an soles, baby oil..

Patton smiled more through his anticipating giggles as he tried to squirm free, but this made the tentacles tighten their grip and a couple started wiggling at his sides, causing the poor moral side to start squealing and giggling even more. “Now now Daddy Patty~ the more you squirm the more their just keep it up and you’ll be stuck with me for much Much longer~” Remus said in a hummed voice, practically having a ear to ear smile now as he threw the bottle of oil aside an placed his finger tips on to Pattons poor oiled soles.

Patton watched as he bit his lip with a wide smile, trying to curl his toes to save himself.

Big mistake

Remus grinned and as almost if it was a green light for him, he started scribbling and scratching at his soles an just under his toes on the left while using a hair brush on the right, and to top it off his tentacles that had been wiggling at Pattons sides had moved to his thighs and started poking and squeezing.

Poor Patton was practically screaming and wailing in laughter at this point, he had tears in his eyes (in a good way) and was loosing his mind as Remus attacked to two death spots with things added on top, it was too much for the poor moral side, and sadly since they were in Remus’s room, non of the other sides could hear him.

This went on for over 10 minutes before Patton started coughing and screaming through his beautiful laughter that he couldn’t take anymore, and eventually after a few minutes of it Remus finally let up. Patton gasped and panted for air as his laughter died down to soft giggles as Remus was trying to help clean the oil off with a hand towel but didn’t really work so he just left the oil on.

The tentacles let Patton go an Remus smirked as he set Patton on his bed, who was already looking so tired. “So, how was that~” Remus teased as he watched the moral side glance at him with a smile. “S-stra-strange b-but I e-enj-joyed it” Patton panted out with a soft giggle. Remus seemed satisfied with that answer and sunk Patton out, where Patton laid on the couch in the living room, quickly falling asleep and confusing the other 4 when they came down to see a sleeping Patton but the oven still on with cookies inside.

[spikechainblog]

My time at the Grand Fest summarized

So I went to the Grand Fest with my Cohozuna Dad... tbh I've played a couple of matches, I've encountered the first 100x battle I've ever encountered, it was weird since I didn't collect any festival shells yet but also for that 100x battle we lost, HORRIBLY... I then met with @noveloctoling (also I know that Novel's salmonid parents Shallow and Haggy got into the Grand Fest, and basically Jacksley was happy that I happen to bring him to the Grand Fest because Jacksley thought he wouldn't be allowed due to the Big Run) and some other friends, we played a couple of matches with eachother, I congradulated her when she won a 100x battle and reached Ruler Rank (tbh I reached Ruler Rank before Novel before that 100x battle).

Jacksley and I stopped to eat at the food stand that Robo ROM-en set up... I liked the ramen, it was good tasting food... I also met Cain at the stand, along with the former Cohozuna Unit members, Calder, Brook, and Dover... oh and Cove and Caspian was there too (Caspian repeatedly kept saying sorry bc of what he did to the salmonids, he felt some sort of regret) I also forgot I met Cuttlefish and DJ Octavio... I also saw my fellow friends that are agents, Arledge (Captain 3), Faze (Agent 8), and of course that annoying but funny inkling, Jordan (Agent 4)... Also Kai, Jay, and Aenon were performing in the different stages while wearing their usual clothing, and at halftime, they wore their Grand Fest clothing (before halftime started Kai fell asleep on the bus to the Grand Fest and Jay and Aenon woke him up)... halftime made me cry because not only I've got onto the stage after reaching ruler, but Three Wishes made me cry (also the Siren Callers performed their cover of the song)... Of course you usually see me with a stern and emotionless face, but when that song hit me... my tears came coming down, I also encountered my first 333x but unfortunately we lost, but I got emotional when I won my second 100x (I said second because I won my first 100x battle at the Starch Splatfest) basically with my teammates, and we were called the Variety Quartet, also the song that played on the 100x battle that I won was Smeared Canvas, yk the song that plays when you climb the Rocket in Return of the Mammalians story mode, yeah it brings me that moment when I was Neo Agent 3 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon ((this is Teal aka ChainSpike in Splatoon 3, I am still thanking C.Q. Cumber, SaMiAm, and sbrnoe for giving me the 100x win RAHHH THXXXX))

in other words I cannot say... there was so many emotions I brung out as I waved on the stage... even Jacksley was emotional when he saw me on stage bc he was proud of me... I still hated the new Tricolor stage, bc you know, the Big Run, I almost even brung out my True Chaotic Form to destroy that Tricolor stage... i did basically use my weapons I mainly use and also with other weapons, even having myself bring out my old main, the Octobrush, that I rarely even use... As the sun rose, it was all over... I started to break down crying, to the point I had Jacksley hug me... the results came out and Past won... I happen to be happy for Cain, Dover, and all of my friends on Team Past (Cain also broke down crying when he heard the results and came to me, he was so proud to win the Grand Fest)... but yeah... Here's to Splatoon 3, and the memories we made along the way... without the Past, Present, and Future, none of the memories we remember, the moments we have now, and our predictions of what's to come would exist, Time is never-ending, spend it as much as you can... This is Spike "Chain" 'The Great Flame That Shines to All' Kadaver, aka Spike/Chain... thank you... for sticking around...

P.S. I'm not gone, I'll still be here with you all, ask me questions or anything

[damimsimpin]

I want some Tim angst. Like break my heart after a bad break up.

Oki I tried my best I hope it works❤️🫵

TIM(masky) X READER

The break up

During one fight,you try to leave,masky decides that no h don’t

———————————————————————

He was always a short tempered man.

Nevertheless you stayed,helping him, this time it was different.

The fight was loud echoing the the house, you grabed your phone and some easy noodles and stuffed them in to a bag,knowing you were not comback this time, he hated confrontation yet he loved confrontating you about everything,didn’t take the trash out? Your fault

You had to tell him off, he never paid attention to you like he did before,before he was sweet,loving,but after he started smoking and drinking, you got more and more alone,there were no more cuddles,no kisses and the intimacy had disappeared.

You knew it was over when “baby💋” called his phone at 3 in the night, you knew there was no more excuses,no more lies and no more love,your relationship died

You knew about him It was a hush hush topic,nothing do discuss or talk about,you didn’t know much,but you did know,he did not like you,you were the last thing keeping him from having full control of Tim,the last bit of humanity in that man’s body.

His last hope

Slamming the door behind you you walk out in the pouring rain,standing on the porch in the rainy woods,the smell of cigarettes and booze was present in the air,this was his smoking area,right outside the kitchen window,he loved to watch you cook,when you used to.

Tim followed after,cigarette in hand,the look in his eyes were a mix of anger and frustration,in those eyes you once loved was a hint of fear

Of losing you, the last person who loved him more than a Comrade or a friend,you were more than a fling and more than a friend you were-

A partner, a lover, something to be protected and cherished.

You were more than that even

You were his lover

Throwing your bag in to the car,the smell of old car and slight blood creeping in to your nose,the radio stoped working years ago,starting the car and getting ready to leave you turn your head one last time,to the place you call home,the place that was your home, the door to the cabin was closed he was gone

You start driving down the street surrounded by forest and the echoes of birds,the muddy ground making the car slower,suddenly a man in the middle of the road makes you step on the breaks, a man in the rain with a crowbar looks up at you,you recognise that mask anywhere,that was your man wait-

no this was not Tim

This was masky

He held a crowbar and walked towards the car ,you tried backing away but the car got stuck in the mud ,masky went up to the window

Looking in to his eyes all sincerity,all love, all Tim’s feelings were gone,the window shattered and masky grabed your hair and dragged you out, the splinters of glass from the window ripping through your skin.

Laying on the muddy ground you look up at you lover,your beautiful man, his hands shaking holding the crowbar over his head.

In his eyes thru the mask you promise you could see a bit of Tim looking back at you with guilt in his eyes,trying to keep masky from going to far.

“He won’t let you live,I’m sorry”

Your paniked eyes quickly searched for an explanation to his words, looking in the woods,the tall faceless man explained everything you needed,your eyes relaxing you breath out a small breath and you murmured a quick but love filled

“I love you”

With a fast motion he brung the crowbar down on your head,your lifeless body,cold and unbothered

“I love you too”

The place you called home,now your forever home

————————————

Sorry if this was bad ! It’s my first writing angst and I hope ur Oki bc this shit made even me cry(idk I’m a sensitive bitch) plz give feedback!❤️❤️❤️ and as we say in Sweden

Jag älskar er alla och tack för era fina ord❤️❤️

[ididntseeurbag]

butterfly

pairing: heeseung x fem!idol!reader

genre: enemies to lovers (well, not anymore i guess), fluff

warnings: mentions of food

in which i-land is a program to make both a girl and a boy group. it's been almost two years since i-land ended and you and heeseung debuted, so he has a surprise to celebrate that (and for...something else).

a/n: this is my third and final part of my mini-series! part 1 here | part two here <3

it was another boring day at hybe for enhypen and y/n's group moonstone, since they didn’t have any schedules planned. enhypen had just finished promotions for their new album and were taking a rest while moonstone were just doing their things right before starting to get ready for the europe part of their tour.

y/n decided to leave her recording studio and wander the halls of the company in search of some inspiration or an interesting activity to do and pass time. after some walking around with no objective in mind, she got in the elevator and decided to go get an iced latte at the cafeteria.

no one seemed to be there, so she got her order done really fast. she sat at a table next to the big window walls and looked outside, glancing at her phone every time a notification popped out.

suddenly, she heard the elevator ding and saw a familiar face stepping out of it. it was heeseung, who smiled at the girl after noticing her, eyes creasing up as he did so. y/n swore her heart skipped a few beats when he did that, but smiled back at him, pretending to not be affected.

the boy asked for a coffee and a slice of carrot cake and made his way to her table. “i’m gonna guess this seat isn’t taken?” he asked.

y/n chuckled. “wow, amazing guess, considering the fact that there’s no one else but you and me here.” 

that made heeseung roll his eyes while smirking. “oh, shut up.”

when she looked down, y/n noticed he had brung two forks with him, and softly smiled when she realised he wanted to share the slice of her favourite cake. he handed the utensil to her and motioned to the sweet with his head, as if telling her to dig in, and she gladly did so.

she then also saw that he hadn’t ordered his usual iced americano, but had what seemed to be a latte with him. the older followed her gaze to the drink and spoke. “i’ve been following your advice and i’m now getting vanilla lattes more often that americanos.” 

y/n smiled proudly after hearing what he said. “as you should.”

he laughed. “you’re changing me, song y/n,” a pause. “i’m not so easy to mould, but you seem to do it without a drop of sweat.”

y/n smirked. “i must have some sort of talent then, if i can make the lee heeseung listen to me.”

“you certainly do,” he followed. “and it’s very effective.”

“you don’t seem to mind, though.”

“no, that i don’t.”

after that small and not so subtle flirting, a comfortable silence fell upon them while they continued eating the cake and drinking their respective beverages.

when they finished eating, he spoke again. “oh!” he exclaimed. “i just remembered i have something to give you.”

y/n was confused, since her birthday was still far away and, as far as she knew, no one was celebrating anything. “why the sudden present?”

heeseung simply smiled at her and winked. “i’ll tell you when i give it to you, that is if you don’t guess it yourself,” having said that, he took her hand and walked her to the elevator, pressing on the button that would take them to the floor where her studio was.

when the doors opened, he let her hand go. “go to your studio and wait for me there, it’ll take me less than ten minutes,” he didn’t give her time to say anything before he ran off to where he had left the gift, so she just walked to her recording studio and waited there.

after some waiting while being on her phone, y/n heard the door open and saw heeseung enter the room with a small paper bag in his hands. from it he pulled out a flat rectangular box that looked expensive just by the look of it.

the girl didn’t know what it was, but she was already feeling guilty because she knew that must have not been cheap. “you didn’t have to, seung,” she said, but he shushed her before she continued talking about feeling sorry.

“i didn’t, but i wanted to, so stop feeling bad and turn around.”

she did as she was told and spinned around in her chair, back facing heeseung, who gently set her hair aside. for a moment, y/n didn’t feel anything else, but then she saw heeseung’s hands holding a necklace that he then placed on her neck. it was only for a few seconds, but his hands softly grazed y/n’s neck, sending goosebumps all over her body. she hated how he made her feel, even with the smallest of actions.

after clasping both sides of the necklace together, heeseung put her hair back in place, brushing it over a bit with his fingers to make it look a bit better, since it got slightly tangled. he then turned her chair around. “well,” he told her. “what do you think?”

y/n looked at her necklace closely and saw it had a butterfly pendant on it. “it’s beautiful, heeseung,” she looked up at him and smiled widely. ”i love it so much.“

he locked eyes with her and smiled fondly. “do you know now why i gifted you this, or do you need an explanation?” he asked cockily.

y/n playfully sighed, faking annoyance. “oh, do tell, self-proclaimed genius.”

the older chuckled shortly and talked. “today marks two years since our ‘butterfly’ performance on i-land, and we both know it was a turning point in our relationship, so i wanted to celebrate that in some sort of way,” he shyly looked down, slightly embarrassed about what he said.

y/n got up and lifted his face with her index and middle finger. “it’s a beautiful reason, seung,” she said sweetly. “thank you.”

he met her stare, almost getting lost in her eyes. “also,” he suddenly whispered. ”this is also a way for me to finally confess my feelings to you,” he almost laughed at her shocked face, but continued. “because, if you hadn’t noticed yet, i really, really like you.”

y/n was internally malfunctioning, remembering every single time she had tried to confess to him and failing miserably because of the thought that she'd get rejected. apparently, everyone but her knew how obvious it was that heeseung liked her, and even he noticed the girl's feelings towards him, but decided to give her time. after the short initial shock, she managed to get some words out before he got discouraged. “i like you too,” she chuckled softly. “really, really like you.”

he pulled her closer, if that was even possible, and looked at her lips. ”good, because i don’t know what i would’ve done if i hadn’t been able to do this,” having said that, he closed the space between them and kissed her, caressing her face soothingly while doing so, the both of them getting lost in the feeling.

after a while, they separated, and y/n chuckled in disbelief. “who would’ve guessed that we would be here after the rocky start in our relationship,” she sighed. “it seems like we’re both changing each other, lee heeseung.”

he nodded while smirking. “and i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

masterlist

[teruwasright]

Ok.....so what if I presented a new way of Terukane- or more like bring the thought back-

What thought?- lol well obviously a childhood friends AU!- but seriously think about the horrible personality trio but all as childhood friends?- 👀

Seriously it would be adorable angsty and haert healing all in one- (if you're wondering yes....this is what my therapy looks like-)

Think of all the POTENTIAL- lol this is the power of AUs- we could force Akane to WATCH Teru get hot!- MWHAHAHAHAHAH!-

I'm about to share my ideas-

Ok 100% when they walk home From school they all held hands- Aoi loved holding their hands so she did- lol like- Akane is literally livid about holding her hand and Teru's just like- I do this all the time with Kou so I'm good 👍

And like- just them interacting- also you won't convince me that in middle school Aoi and Teru didn't do Kpop dances- they so did and they always did it together- Akane absolutely refused to join but still watched like a champ- XD (obviously Aoi asked Teru to do them with her because Akane wouldn't and she was to shy to ask Nene- so he agreed to do it he just didn't expect it to be so much fun-)

And all of them being stupid kids and ALL of them being super hyper- lol they we ALL over the place- Akane brung out Teru's hyper self and Aoi's like- I want to do that- (because I head cannon that Aoi always wanted to be you know- I kinda wield kid but her parents didn't let her- as a result Akane got in trouble with them a lot for getting her dirty even tho she did it and getting in trouble for being a "bad influence" )

And I 100% head cannon that Aoi and Kou are besties-

Ok but like- what about Terukane?- that was the point of this post so I'll just give you the thought-

Like Akane thinking Teru's super weird and is like- 'wow you're so weird and kinda ugly-' and he can't see Teru as anything but weird and nerdy looking and has all his life- until Teru got hot out of nowhere and Akane's like- 'shit he isn't a shrimp anymore-'

Also tiny hand holds.....🥺

Basically I'm drowning in this childhood friends AU with the sunflower trio and I wish it was canon-

I'm sure an AU like this is somewhere- tho I'm not sure who it is if it is something someone did already but I just thought I would bring the potential back-

Lol ok I'll take my leave- TwT

[79522114149]

what would someone who writes write about in a blog? i've gone so far off the deep end in trying to be abstract with my words to somewhat soothsaying to riddles to simple to mixed and i've seen some great work through the years if i would have to give it a percentage about 20-35 percent of what i wrote would be considered great and at least 15 would be better than what is considered the best, i feel at par if not a bit more chaotically original with robert frost an edgar allan poe i don't write horror but i used to and that was probably some of the best years of my life, once i came back from my imagination everything seemed bland and safe and now i have trouble going outside. i guess ill just use this as a dump station for my thoughts that does not mean i want my work copied but all what i consider great will remain in my thoughts until ready to be published or implicated which yes i know i am 27 no diploma and 50k in debt by 28 im confident ill catch up on the past 10 years i've lost to bad decisions recovery which to this day i do not feel guilty about and that being said i have felt guilt constantly until i realized i survived what would have probably killed others, i might believe in god i might not im not sure whos sales pitch seems not only better but based in truth, i hope its not what some say that science and religion are just two different languages saying the same thing, foolish followers throw rocks through windows and claim they are saving the race, as if we were the first or the last who knows i really wish i knew but maybe the desire of truth is a vice in itself a wretched horrible thing which has brung nothing but uncertainty fear and guilt for walking down a road with no sight i hope i take the right turns i feel as if not just my soul but the soul of entire legions rests within me waiting to be saved, i hope i bring what was intended of me, will i meet greatness in the way hollywood sales it or is a ratty old shake on the edge of a beach with or without a few who adore me is the heaven i'm actually chasing, is marijuana enough or have i been substituting happiness too long i've forgotten what it truly feels like. i need to forget what came before and focus on what will be i hate when people say be in the present and be in the now it feels like they're trying to keep my soul from experiencing what it could if it only believed and desired what if they sold of the fantasy of flying so we'd forget about our ability to travel through space, time, dimensions and who knows what else, how could you say you believe in history and not believe that everything around you is just your generations version of what others came and will come to see claiming their truth different from yours is the correct one, maybe thats the trap the belief that our intuition is not enough as if we just thought hard enough we would find the information flowing through our genetic code instructing our muscles the way fighters teach their muscles to remember combinations in times of stress like sleepless warrior killing in the name of freedom like others killing in the names of their gods, i seem to be disgusted by the repetitive actions like war and how rises bring collapses, or is that what they sold us so we the rest will make sense, is rome still running things? theres not a single place where i am not followed, people seem to be so obsessed with me they're spending others time and money they've stolen from others.

[c052794]

Or it’s what I would say if I was head over heels . It’s one of the few things keeping me going. I don’t think I ever really wanted kids but someone to experience all of this with. Every year that dream grew dimmer. I’ve tried with others. maybe this person I’ve built up in my head isn’t you but until I find out for myself it’s like her image won’t pass. There’s such a strong image that it was you. I fear even if you were standing in front of me face red with anger screaming “I’m not for you” Id still rush in for a kiss. In this dog eat dog type world of course you don’t exist, god could have just made us immortal. But we have to eat sleep pee hate fear. Only seems right that in a world where what few treasures he did give like love and imagination he’d also sow obsession denial. lost. The things that once brung me love now brings me fear. It always brought lonelyness tho.

Just recalled a cool summer night probably 23 ish. I was like I am now at a rest stop wondering if you thought about me. Looking back on it now just like in the present if you did you would have texted. My head spins at the thought of to years wasted waiting. Almost mindlessly happily ignoring the fact she was literally moving in with someone else. You had a whole life why stays to attached to someone like that.

I never asked to like chicken nuggets. I just do. Why would he make me like this. Is this purgatory? Hell?

Destin to get old pass on dna or die trying some world. Dungeon master skills needs some work. All your players are woefully unprepared for the horrors in you world like love and death. So they just walk around fucking anything that watched the same crappy cartoon they did when they were kids. Eating gambling, drinking smoking and not trying to see the wrinkles in their parents eyes grow.

Then again it’s a long night. Nice big moon tho.

[emowidowxd]

I told you I loved you to early, I got ghosted.

We moved in together to soon, I got left in an empty room.

I spent the money I got for Christmas to get you a Christmas present, you broke up with me while I was giving it to you. I haven’t given a partner a present since.

I tried my hardest to take you at face value and believe the things you said, but I just kept finding out more.

At pineacres I gave you my last $20 while I was struggling, you called me later that night to let me know you had fucked jordy.

I called you and begged you to come home and look for Charlie with me, I did everything I could to find him till this day I still look and you still look me in the eye and say you think I did it.

You cheated on me and tried to leave, I begged and fought for you to stay, you called me abusive and controlling.

I kept dropping you off presents every time we were split up and weed whenever you asked, you smoked it with other guys and would argue and block me the same day.

We moved back in together multiple times, every time you would leave me a few days later but I kept getting places with you thinking this time might be different.

Even when split up, I have been fiercely protective of you, you have actively tried to get me kicked out, jumped, fired and god knows what else.

I got threatened and begged you to take steps to keep yourself safe. Youv actually given people my address.

I lent you $400 and made you PROMISE that no matter what happened between us you would pay it back because it was savings for my teeth, still haven’t seen it.

I gave you a pc then immediately was put in a position that I had to pawn mine, then immediately after that we fought and you left too. I was left with no pc and no friend.

I tried to change how I dealt with things. I didn’t want to be abusive or controlling. So I stopped reacting. You called me emotionless and uncaring. You told me constantly “if you wanted to you would”

I might see other people when we aren’t an option but I have never picked anyone over you. You are constantly making it clear that you’re craving someone that isn’t me. Then constantly talking about my disloyalty.

I used to think that because I lucid dreamed you fucking Ben that we were connected in some spiritual way and I was just meant to let you live and learn and love you through those things and eventually it would all work out.

I’m now realising that I was shown that to teach me a lesson, and when I failed to acknowledge that lesson the universe brung you back around as a wife to show me again.

I will never accept a half way love ever again.

A love that is only reciprocated when shown.

A love that is constantly searching for a source of more love from elsewhere.

I was taught that when you put someone on a pedestal they look down on you.

Respect isn’t earned, it’s either there or it’s not.

And if you try to fill an empty heart with your love, it will take it all and then ask for more.

So thanks teach’ ✌️

[ariannasenvolant]

today i felt like coming on my blog and pouring out my feelings. so this is me doing just that: 

Changing Relationships

When I was younger, I would rearrange my room once a month or so, because I was tired of the layout and wanted something new and fresh. Because of this, I thought I was pretty good at adapting to change, since I was always changing my room. 

However, the same can not be said about my relationships with people. Relationships can grow and thrive, die, and also grow apart. All of these changes except the growing and thriving together part pains me a lot. It has brung tears to my eyes one toooo many times. 

When relationships with people in my life start changing seemingly “for the worst,” my mental health suffers immensely. I sit and think about for days. I talk to people about it. It never leaves me. I wake up and think “oh...x,y, and z, things aren’t the same anymore.” I think I struggle with accepting/embracing the changes in relationships. I am attached to what we once were. 

With my first love, I remember being really really sad to break up with him, because I knew any relationship we have afterwards would never be as good as the one we just had. This is because, when you’re with someone romantically, you just know so many intricacies about them and are able to talk with them in ways that may not always be so appropriate/easy with just friends. My ex and I remained friends for two years, until last month he told me that he didn’t feel right to be in this relationship (this friendship) with me anymore. This caught by surprise, because it’s been two years, and I don’t know the exact reason why it didn’t feel right for him. My first guess is unresolved feelings. But even though our relationship before he cut me off wasn’t as intimate as when we were together, I still valued him so much as a friend, as someone who was my first love. I feel like he realized it was time to let me go, something I struggle with doing. I cannot just cut people off. 

One of my best friends, I guess she’s former best friend now, is being distant in our friend group, i.e also us as friends individually. My friend group from middle school was strong throughout high school as well, however, once college started, things changed. We started to nourish relationships in pairs, rather than altogether. It was hard for us all to meet up at one time, which is why it’s easier to hang out with one person all the time rather than scheduling for 3. However, in the midst of the other pair (the one I wasn’t in), I felt excluded in their conversations and the bubble they had around themselves. Nonetheless, once I got over that they were just closer to each other than me, I still enjoyed being with them. Now however, this one friend I’m talking about, she’s not even as present as before with her pair. And so it’s cold turkey on my end. Every relationship requires reciprocation, and I just was not getting that with her. And it sucks, because it was never this bad. She clearly showed me that our friendship was not a priority to her anymore, and I struggle to accept it, because how could I throw away years of friendship like that? How could she? People continue to tell me that your childhood friends are your real friends cause they know the real you, and to continue to try and be her friend, to show that I’m always there for her. I would love to be a pillar of stable love for her, but I am very insecure in our relationship. She’s not showing any signs that she even want’s to be friends with me. This hurts a lot. This is an example of growing apart. My dad always would tell me “your friends will stab you in the back. your friends today are not your friends tomorrow” and she’s showing me that he’s right, when I wanted him to be wrong. to Taliea. today is your birthday, happy birthday, hope you enjoyed. to the next birthdays i won’t be celebrating with you, im sorry and i hope you continue to enjoy. I just never wanted it to be this way. But i have to accept it. 

Now, to my other best friend. a person who my soul is truly at peace with. we were toxic lovers, always on and off because the comfort we provide for each other is truly like no other. it can be the end of the world and I’d feel comfortable enough to rest in her arms, as long as it’s her arms I’m in. Our relationship is changing and I feel like we’re growing apart too. It’s a distance I think we’re both making on purpose, because we’re scared to fall back again. the signs of change hurt in transitions. delayed replies back. turning off tik tok likes so I can’t see her activity any more. the i love you thats pending in the air and the hug that can’t last for too long. we both agreed to move on, but i remember how deep we went, and i’m forced to look the other way. no matter how hard we try, i suppose we wont work out. just like my first love, lovers to friends hurts. with time of course, the heart heals and embraces, which is the period I am in now, but looking back, at what we could’ve been, hurts. i suppose there’s no use in doing that anymore. which is how im coping.

in all these changing relationships, I could only worry about myself. be grateful for the rain and sunshine and continue growing, despite who is alongside or far away from me. I can only wish we all grow tall to see each other when we reach the clouds. i have no hate in my heart and i hope every one of you bears an abundance of sweet fruit and beautiful flowers. hopefully one day i’ll be blessed to taste and smell your achievements but if not, thank you for the memories we shared. i feel like life runs in circles and cycles, and it’s never the end with these people. this is all a transitioning period in which a year or two, when we’re all in a better place, i’ll hit you back up and see how you’re growing. i suppose i don’t believe in dead relationships, we simply grow apart, as people, we are still here, living. 

[adventures-of-the-creeping-bam]

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK THREE: WARMER - CHAPTER 21

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 3 Chapter 1 is here …

MPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:  THELGAEWYNN

Fuck … that armoured ogre is a fucking trip, but then this whole mess has been.  I’m so pissed at Du right now, he was totally right and I know he’d be feeling real smug and totally lording it over me if things were different.  But they ain’t – we’re hiding in the yard of a fucking brickworks  and he’s a bloody mess again.  It’s all fucked, and I know full well it’s my fault.

That imori … he was the biggest surprise.  He seemed to come right outta nowhere, when we reached the waste ground of the Lower Heath he seemed to slide from the gloom, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground and Dumoli was bleeding beside me.  Turned out he’d just picked up on the attack in time, shoving me aside before the lizardman could cut me open, so he caught the intended gutting stroke hard in his side.  The only blessing was he got tagged so fast he didn’t really notice he’d been laid open in the process, so he was just lying there, blinking in surprise as he tried to sit up.

Brung was the only reason I didn’t get cut down right after that, our goblin friend must’ve just homed in on the imori right away just through that distinctive stink of his that’d been throwing him off before, and he sprang.  Didn’t even bother trying to get his sword out, he just leapt with a blood-curdling snarl and attacked with claws and teeth.  Might be that’s the only reason he wasn’t battered off and cut in two himself, the inexplicable newcomer just weren’t expecting that.

Gave me time to get to Dumoli and start tending to him as he finally realised he’d just been fundamentally fucked up.  The blow hadn’t quite managed to gut him, instead carving a deep, gaping gash up under his ribs, laying his gambeson wide open, but it was definitely still a real bad wound.  He’s bleeding like a stuck pig, even once I dragged off my cloak and bundled it up to try and press down on the wound and stem the flow it quickly got sodden, and I’m scared he could be dead before actual help even arrives.

Gael and the rest turning up when they did saved our lives in the moment, but by then some o’ the others had started to make their own presence felt.  While the imori was distracted I started taking fire o’ my own, somebody was loosing arrows at us and they had pretty wicked aim, one shaft coming close enough I’d have wound up with a broadhead in my throat if I’d moved a split slower.  So I just gave up trying to fix my friend’s injuries and set him to put his own pressure to it while I just took a good hold under his arms and started dragging him to safety.  Anything I could find really.  Which is when I spotted the brickworks.

It's a smart spot for them to work out of, actually – there’s a whole lot of open, empty space here on the Heaths, so when they form their rows of fresh-made bricks to dry in the sun before firing they don’t need space outside the city for it.  Not that there was anything laid out when we arrived that I might’ve needed to stumble over, but maybe this was an off day, when the crews are busy cutting clay outside the city for transport back.  I don’t really know how it works.  All I saw is that the place was quiet and seemingly empty, but the gate to the yard was open, and I wasn’t about to start questioning what good fortune had just presented itself.  Not with all this shit going on …

Then Brung got chucked off and started scrambling our way, and I realised that we had more company – a dragonhalf woman, a particularly striking one too, fully armed and clearly in charge, and a half-orc.  They were starting to close in on us, moving slow and careful since they’d obviously seen Brung laying into their scaly companion, but already starting to flank around us.  Just as Gael jumped in out of nowhere close by, and all hell broke loose.

Turns out whoever this bunch is, they got a wizard of their own, and they just opened up the moment our friends arrived.  They must’ve had those fireballs already primed and ready to go the way they just started chucking ‘em around, and they weren’t even bothering to try and aim first, just hurling at anything that moved they were sure wasn’t their own people.  I called out the best warning I could to the others but they were already peeling off, scattering for cover, and after that I didn’t bother hanging around anymore, I just started dragging Du in earnest, taking full advantage of the distraction while I could.

Thankfully Brung had the good sense to come with us, but I reckon it was as much just concern for Du as anything else.  We tried our best to ignore all the craziness going on outside, instead concentrating on looking for help in here, or at least somewhere we can maybe lay low so I could try to take care of Du’s wound.

I found the first body before we got very far, but then they clearly weren’t trying too hard to hide what they been doing in here.  Reckon it’s the imori’s work, or ‘least he was the one started it all, likely the others joined in once it became inevitable they’d have to kill everybody else.  Turns out the place ain’t quiet cuz they’re somewhere else, it’s just cuz they’re all dead.  Murdered en masse in the middle of whatever they were doing.  The kilns are still burning away, likely full of bricks that are probably getting pretty burnt now.  If they actually do, like I said I don’t really know.

“Thel, trouble.”  Brung growled, keeping low as he started searching the shadows with his indecently bright yellow eyes.

“Really?  I hadn’t guessed.” I looked round for a moment, searching for a safe spot to regroup, keeping my voice good and low.  “Just keep your nose open.”

The look he gave he was enough he didn’t have to spit a retort, but then he never does.  Instead he just started sniffing the air, falling back a little as I kept working on moving Du.  I was most o’ the way towards the back of the line of ovens when he scampered up, surprising me by the way I didn’t even know he was there until he was right on top of us, he’s still so damn silent.

“Down.”  He barely hissed the word but it was urgent all the same, and I took him at his word, dropping Du as gently as I could manage while dropping onto my front.  It took me a long moment to get what he was even on about, the first thing I actually registered was the approach of some seriously heavy footfalls.

This whole place is a clutter, even without the bodies it’d be jumbled so there’s plenty o’ cover, but even so I kept as low as I could and just trusted that, if we were spotted, in this relative gloom far from the torchlight we’d probably just look like more corpses.  Meanwhile Brung was gone almost before I realised it, but then that’s the way he does it.  He didn’t abandon us, I’m sure o’ that, he’s just too good at hiding.

Fucking hell, that ogre is scary.  Been a while since I ran into one, and that last time it was mostly more of a near miss than any actual encounter.  In the end we were able to just run and escape through a nice tight gap, enough we could put some distance between us and it before it could get after us again.  But it still scared the hell outta me, enough that this encounter gave me fresh chills.  I mean I could almost have been forgiven for thinking they actually had a golem with ‘em, but a closer look told me it’s just armour.  Like this thing even needs it.  But that’s telling in itself.

Among the many old war stories Mulden told me over the years he looked out for me, the accounts of his times in the Reaches were the darkest, and definitely the hairiest.  The Tektehrans would put any advantage they could scrape up into the field to turn the tide on the battlefield, and one that the Rundao armies borrowed before too long themselves was the armoured ogres.  Just a handful could tear through a whole company of Terrors in a matter of minutes, ‘least until those unholy guns of theirs started to see use on the front lines.   Then the field became more level again.  But for a while there …

He sure made ‘em sound like the scariest things alive, and seeing that thing stalking through the yard put a cold, hard weight right in the middle o’ me, big enough I just held my breath and pretended to be dead until it was gone.

The ogre weren’t alone, either.  Turns out there’s another merc, waiting here with it.  This one’s a hob, or ‘least half o’ one, since she’s clearly taller’n most I come across, ‘cept maybe that wizard healer, works at the Temple.  She’s quite attractive in a somewhat feral way, slight and willowy with a definite grace in the way she moves suggests the other half o’ her blood might be elven, and she’s young too.  Somehow she seems at odds with the rest I seen in their group so far, more innocent maybe, but I learned not to judge appearances.  ‘Specially not given the company she’s keeping.

Clear enough too she’s likely a cleric, although I suspect for one o’ the more serious, po-faced gods, prob’ly Corvina given she’s dressed head to toe in black.  Her long, heavy robe coat is mostly thick rawhide leather, but trimmed and detailed in black silk that’s clearly an affectation, much like her tunic and skirts, with a heavy wool cloak to complete the image.  The mantle and deep hood are the most striking part of the ensemble, however, thickly trimmed with what look like sleek jet black raven feathers.  Then there’s her gauntlets, with gloves of rich black kid while the steel of her stylishly engraved bracers is clearly treated in a similar way to Thieves Guild blades to appear smoky dark in order to match the rest of her uniform.  If she don’t serve the Raven Queen she’s definitely fooled me.

But instead of a hammer like Krakka, this one clearly favours a sword, although it’s one o’ the longest I ever seen, certainly big enough to look almost unwieldy in her hands.  She don’t even bother wearing it belted on her hip or slung on her back, instead just toting it about in her left hand or leaned across her shoulder in its long, polished ebony scabbard.  I can’t really tell with it sheathed, but it looks like it’d have quite a narrow, slender blade, gently curved with a surprisingly long hilt, although I suspect that’s as much to make it easier for her to wield it with both hands.  However it works, I don’t like to think what she could actually do with it, more so with an actually goddess backing her up.

For a time they just hung around, the hob occasionally sniffing the air round her as she paced back and forth or muttering in hushed tones to the ogre, who’d simply shrug, nod or shake their head in response.  I couldn’t really make out her face under that deep hood, but her manner told me enough about her mood, she was clearly anxious and concerned, but whether about her companions or the situation itself I couldn’t tell.  Whatever it is, it made it clear enough to me this one’s definitely different from the rest.

Once I was sure they couldn’t just pick straight up on it, I took a chance and crept back to Dumoli, who was starting to get his head the situation, ‘spite o’ the blood loss likely making him lightheaded.  Certainly he had enough presence of mind to just take a deep breath, clench his teeth and wince through it as I made another attempt to drag him deeper into cover, all the time taking great care to pay as much attention to those two as I could.  Thankfully they didn’t pick up on it, although I suspect even with the hob’s much stronger sense o’ smell all the blood in the air’s probably enough to throw her off.

Eventually I get him propped up outta sight behind one of the kilns and bend down to tend to his wounds proper.  By now his eyes have turned wild while his face is growing pale, and even in the bad light I can see his lips starting to turn blue.  That’s never a good sign.  But he still manages to focus enough to hold my stare.

“You … you have to go, Thel.  Go now.”

I give him a long, hard glare for that.  “No.  Fuck that noise.  I ain’t abandoning you, just forget it.”  I try peeling the cloak away from the wound and it just hurts him more as the sticky half-dried blood causes the torn fabric around the wound to shift too.  He fights a shout through tightly gritted teeth and rolls his eyes in clear pain, making me stop at once and just press down again.  “Sorry.”

“Thel, I am fucked.”  His breathing’s heavy, but he’s still making the best effort he can to be quiet.  “I’ll be dead in less than an hour, at best.  I don’t want you to die sooner trying to save me and just getting yourself caught as a result.  That thing … you remember Mulden’s stories, right?”

Nodding, I just concentrate on pressing the ruined, sodden cloak to his wound again, mostly just worried how effective this even is any more.  “Oh yeah.  ‘Nuff to give me nightmares.”

“Yeah, well they weren’t exaggerated.  I saw that for myself.  That ogre cannot be killed.  Not with anything we have to hand.  Hell, I think even Driver 8 would have trouble with that thing.”

“All the more reason for me to get you outta here, then.”  I growl, looking out now so I can keep track o’ what’s going on out there.  I catch a glimpse of the hob, still pacing, but right now the ogre’s somewhere I can’t see.  “I dunno, maybe there’s another way outta here.”

“If there is, you’re going to take it.”  Du reaches up with very shaky hands and wraps his fingers round my own, weaker than I’d like but still strong enough to move my hands away from the cloak.  “Now, please.”

“Yeah.  I will.  With you.”

“No you won’t.”  He shifts himself a little, trying to sit up I reckon, but finally giving up, and casts about, raising his right hand and grasping vaguely.  “Where’s … Thel, where’s my fucking hammer?”

“Somewhere outside.”  I try to push him back down but he reaches up and brushes me off, surprisingly forcefully.  “I was kinda occupied with you, you daft lummox.”

“Oh for …”  He grunts with frustration and takes hold of the sword strapped at his hip.  I rarely seen him use it, he’s always favoured the warhammer, but I know he’s still a force to be reckoned with wielding it.  It’s his father’s, handed down through his family for generations, in fact, from the Founder Times after the Sundering, if he’s got it right.  “Never mind, it’d probably just slow me down anyway.”

“What are you –”

“You’re going to sneak out while I’m distracting that big fucker.”  Du grunts, wincing tightly as he reaches over and draws the sword, which takes a couple tries to get all the way out and leaves him breathing heavy, but even so he stops the moment it’s out, pausing like I’m doing now.  Listening to see if we been heard.  Nothing yet, and when I check the hob’s still looking away.

“Du, c’mon –”

“I’m not bloody arguing with you, Thel.  I’m fucked, so I’m going to make sure you’re not.”  He gives the sword a little squeeze, the leather on his gauntleted fingers creaking a little, and fixed me with a particularly pointed look.  “I made a promise a long time ago, and I’ll be damned if I’m not bloody well going to keep it.”

“Oh yeah?”  I give him a poke right through the bloody cloak, and he tenses instantly, almost dropping the sword as he barely stifles a yelp.  “An’ just how far you reckon you’re even gonna get?  Come off it.”

“Ah … fuck, Thel … come on, I told you –”

“No, fuck you.  I ain’t letting you kill yourself just to save me.  That’s fucking stupid.”  I take a step closer to the corner of the kiln and risk a better look out.  “Besides, I got no idea where that fucking ogre even is now.  Can’t see it.”

“Gone.”  Brung’s low rasp sounds almost right in my ear, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from crying out in shock as I stumble back into cover turning towards him.  He’s just crouching there, watching me with that damnable closed look of his.  “Few minutes ago.  Stiffened up, got a look.  Like it heard something.  In its head.  Then took off.  Not a word.”

I gotta think for a moment to translate all that in my head, but it clicks into place.  Of course.  “Magic … must’ve been that wizard o’ theirs, reckon they can do something like Gael an’ Tulen.  Talked right in their head, called ‘em out to help.  Reckon the others are here in force now.”

“That’s good, then.”  Dumoli hisses, again trying and failing to shift himself into a more comfortable position.  “Oh … fuck … we can just wait them out, then.”

“No …”  I chance a look round the corner again, seeing the hob just standing there in the middle of the yard, looking out towards the Heath now, I reckon.  Thoughtful now, maybe, I still can’t tell under that hood.  “No.  It’s just that cleric, she’s alone.  If I can take her out we’re in the clear, ‘least until the others can sort that shit out on their end.”

Du frowns deep.  “No, wait … Thel, come on.  Seriously, you have no idea what she’s actually capable of, if she even is actually alone here now.  Think straight.”

“That’s just what I am doing, Du.”  I reach over my shoulder and take hold of my battleaxe, taking care as I start to shrug it free of its harness.  If I’m gonna be running the risk of facing that sword, might be better to have something a bit more serious to hand.  “This is the smart play if I’m gonna get you outta here now, while we got an opportunity.”

“Need help?”  Brung reaches over his own shoulder, fingering his shortsword’s hilt, but don’t draw it yet.

Shaking my head, I don’t even consider it.  “No.  If I can’t take her down ‘fore she notices me I need you to get Du outta here.  Any way you can.  Drag him if you have to, but do it.  I give you cover, you use it.  Promise me.”

The goblin don’t answer me for a long, loaded moment, just watching me with that cold, blazing yellow stare.  “Promise.”

“Thel, come on, please.”  Du grips the sword tighter as he tries to stand but it’s all he can do to prop himself up in the first place.  “Ah … fuck, no … please, just think about this –”

“I ain’t dead yet, Du.”  Shuffling in a low crouch, I start to make move the other way to cut round the back o’ the kilns, flank her if I can.  “An’ I don’t plan to be anytime soon, either.”

Du opens his mouth to protest more, but I’m already ducking outta sight before he can get anything else out.  Shifting the axe into my offhand, I press myself against the rough brick of the back wall of the kiln and hold my breath for a long moment, listening out now to see if I been rumbled.  Still nothing … okay then.  I shift my footing and start moving a little quicker, but still maintain as much stealthy silence as I can shod with steel.

I stop again just short of the corner of the last kiln before the big open space in the middle of the yard, where the hob was last time I looked.  Taking a last breath, I heft the axe low in both hands and square my shoulders, ready to move if I have to when I step out.  Then I hold that last breath and chance another slow, cautious glance.

She’s gone.  Okay … that’s unexpected.  I almost stand straight up but check myself in time, instead letting the breath out slow and shallow as I take my first step into the open.  The hair on the back of my neck’s prickling like mad, I don’t like this at all.

I’m maybe halfway out into the middle of the yard, about where I saw her before, when I feel the itch at the back o’ my neck grow more insistent, a cold chill rolling down my spine now.  I tense fast, turning on the spot as I tighten up into a ready guard, and seems like my instincts are on point this time, for what good it does me.  The hob’s right there, and they’ve drawn their sword now, finally giving me a look at just how lethally dangerous that thing actually is as she squares up two-handed with it, low but ready all the same, three feet short o’ me now.

The blade alone is at least three feet long, curved like a dragon’s fang but a good deal more slender, less’n three inches at its widest, it looks like, and tapering to a very fine needle’s point at the tip.  Truth be told the whole blade looks vicious keen to my eye, the worrying long single edge honed to a razor’s keenness, and while the metal seems, like everything else in her ensemble, intentionally dark, there’s something strangely bright about it too.  The metal’s got a strange oiliness to it, but as I watch it almost seems like there’s light playing on it, as if it has its own source of illumination as a subtle radiance starts to build within in.  It’s slow, almost languid, and seems colder, less brilliant than Krakka’s goddess’ Holy Light but … no, this is definitely still some kind of strange God Light all the same.  If I had any lingering doubts that she’s a cleric o’ the Raven Queen they’re gone now.

She’s thrown back her hood now, so I get a better look at her face.  I was right, she is pretty, in a wild kind of way, something like Yeslee but different too.  Her cool, swarthy features are finer, more delicate, again suggesting there’s something elven in her blood, from her delicate, slender nose to her sculpted cheekbones, while her sideburns are much finer and less bristly than other hobs.  Most notable there’s no bristly hair on her chin, while her brows are as thin and fine in their arches as the rest of her features.  Her eyes, though, are as dark as I’d have expected, limpid black pools, and surprisingly large.  She wears her surprisingly sleek jet black hair bound back in a braided bun, and her horns are fairly small, stubby things, dark ebony lightening into almost bone white at the tips as they flick out surprisingly straight towards the back of her skull. 

Strangely, there’s no true hostility in her expression, mostly she just seems curious as she regards me.  There’s something almost … charming in that look, actually.  It’s kind of endearing.

“My, you’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?”  Her voice is soft, quite silken, another touch of elven blood, perhaps, and her accent speaks subtly of home, I realise.  She’s from Abharet like me, although from the sound she grew up further north, near the border, I reckon.  “Shame I caught your scent so easily once you moved.”

“Damn, guess I didn’t think o’ that.”  I keep my own face coolly neutral, very aware she’s still got her alarmingly substantial sword cocked and ready.  “Thought the blood in the air’d cover me.  There’s a whole lot of it, after all.”

There’s a darkening of her expression at that, and it might actually be disapproval.  Now I wonder if she actually had anything to do with this mess.  She is very clean, looking at her.  “That’s true.  Of course, dead things don’t tend to move, so that somewhat gave you away.”

I can’t help smiling a little, she’s got a good point there.  I give a little shrug, cocking my head.  “Yeah, you got me there.  ‘Course you seem the type’d know an awful lot ‘bout dead things.  If you will.”

Now she cocks her own head as she regards me more closely.  “In a way, perhaps, you’d be right.  My Lady has her ways.  She also likes things to stay dead once they’ve passed beyond The Veil.  Things become … untidy if they don’t.  Disordered.”

“You never brought anybody back, then?  Would’ve thought that’d be a funny stand for a cleric to take, thought you folk were s’posed to be healers much as warriors.”

“We defend our Faith, above all else.  But others too.  Those who need our aid may receive it, if they ask for it.”  Again that reluctance colours her expression, like she’s not entirely committed to what’s going on here.  “There’s a period before a soul has passed when it can be drawn back, if My Lady chooses to allow it.  But it comes at a cost.  Many find it too great.”

It's interesting, the way she said that seems so filled with regret, I get the idea she’s got some ghosts of her own.  I’m starting to wonder if, if she weren’t here to kill us, I might actually like this one.

“Don’t s’pose you’d be willing to call it quits on this, maybe help my friend out instead?”  I almost don’t ask, but something about her makes me seriously weigh the options.  It’s worth a shot.

She’s a long time answering, her frown deepening considerably, and her eyes flicker about briefly, certainly too quick for me to ever think about taking advantage of a distraction.  Reckon she’s genuinely considering it, which is interesting.  Almost encouraging.  Until she winces, bitter now as she shakes her head with a hiss that shows her sharp teeth.  “No, I’m sorry.  I’m afraid I can’t.  It’s unfortunate, it really is.  You seem nice.  You’re just not on our side.”

“Coming from a merc that almost sounds like hypocrisy.”  I can’t keep the venom out of my words as I speak now, feeling the chill roll down my spine again, sensing violence approaching.  “I thought clerics were s’posed to be above things like money.”

Narrowing her eyes, the half-hob sets her jaw, growing visibly colder now, and at the same time her blade begins to brighten.  The light’s still less brilliant than Krakka’s bright fire, though, I’m starting to get the idea that Corvina’s Holy Light is colder, more subtle, although I doubt it burns any less.  “Careful.  I’m trying to be fair here.”

That makes me glare right back, any semblances of good humour I might’ve been enjoying instantly falling away.  “Fair?  Fuck that.  You’re just like your friends, ain’t no talking round it.  You’re here for money, here to kill me an’ mine for a fuckin’ bounty.  Don’t sound fair to me.”

“Now who’s trying to pretend they’re above it?  From what I’ve been told, you and yours are sellswords too.  This comes with the job.”  She adjusts her grip on the sword, opening her hands out a little more on the extensive haft of the hilt, and I see the slightest shift in her stance too.  As if she’s resolved to her course now.  “You won’t show any more mercy to us than we to you.  Trying to argue anything else is true hypocrisy.”

There’s the quietest hissing coming from her blade now, like a hot sizzle, the kind you sometimes hear in extremely hot metal.  My suspicions are confirmed, looks like.  I feel another chill considering that.

Shrugging, I let out a sigh.  “Fair enough, then.”  And I attack.  No preamble, I just rush her, swinging my battleaxe hard as I can at her.

There’s a momentary widening of her eyes seeing it, I almost catch her napping, but her reaction surprises me.  She’s quick, real quick, darting back with an impressively fluid twist and deft skipping of feet, and instead of biting into her side like I planned my axe clatters into the waiting blade of her impressive sword.  There’s a clang, but it’s a strangely subdued sound, largely muted under a far louder fizzing crackle as the blades meet with a great showering flash of surprisingly bright, hot sparks.  I have to screw my eyes to tight slits to keep from getting blinded, and even then there’s a moment where I’m left with broken lines dancing in my vision as we break and I stumble back.

Fuck … that was like hitting solid iron, a lot of it.  My axe is buzzing with mad reverberations, stinging my fingers and setting my teeth on edge while it’s given me a funny ringing in my head, while I can just about see, if I blink through the blur in my sight, that the blade is glowing.  Like it’s just come out the forge.  It don’t feel hot, but then I can’t really feel that well with my hands right now anyway.  Fuck …

‘Least she ain’t doing much better, from what I can tell.  She’s stumbled back too, holding the sword out to one side with her right hand while giving the other a hard shake, hissing in clear discomfort as she takes two more big steps away to clear space between us.  Ouch … she really don’t look happy at all.  When she looks up at me again I can see the surprise in her eyes, and maybe a little frustration.  Not anger, not yet, but reckon that’s probably coming.

Taking a deep breath, I grit my teeth and clench my jaw as I let go with my left and give it a shake, just to get a little relief from the battering.  My balance is good, at least, my head’s stopped ringing, hopefully there won’t be any more o’ that.  ‘Cept her blade’s still blazing with that strange, cold half-light …

“Oof … that was … what was that?”  she hisses at me after a long, loaded moment, eyes narrowing again.

“How should I –”

She thrusts her sword forward and grips it with both hands in an instant, and before I realise it she mutters something under her breath, what I realise must be an oath as the sword flares again, brighter than ever.  Bright as I seen Krakka’s impressive hammer flare, actually.  I barely have time to turn into it and bring my axe up …

… and it’s like getting hit broadside by a swinging log from a battering ram, I reckon.  Or maybe when Driver 8 swings one of his massive metal fists.  The axe takes the brunt of the hit with another cacophonous clang and this time the flaring blast of sparks is genuinely blinding, enough that all I see is white as I turn right over in the air, a full cartwheel before hitting the ground again.  I land hard and roll, and I got no hope of holding onto the axe as I turn into a limp ragdoll.

Fuck!  I must bounce three or four times before settling, and every inch of me is throbbing, both my arms numb like I just shoved ‘em in frozen river water while my head’s spinning wildly.  It’s all I can do to think about anything at all, maybe just remembering how to breathe, I dunno … for what might be a few seconds, maybe an hour, I’m not really here anymore.

It’s all I can do to roll over again, but something’s pushing me to do it, to try and move at all, some strange insistent … slowly, like the timeless languid crawl of a grinding glacier, my mind starts to function like it’s s’posed to again, then I suddenly remember what’s going on … shit!  I almost flip right over as I snap back to reality again, blinking as I try to look out again, but my vision’s just a blur, everything’s swimming worse than they ever have with tears in my eyes … oh Thorin I hate this shit …

I’m another long, painfully loaded moment realising I ain’t been attacked while I been down, even once I started moving again, and part o’ me can’t help wondering why … then my vision finally starts to clear and I manage to lift my head enough to try looking round, and after some searching I catch sigh o’ the half-hob and realise she’s just standing there, watching me.  I gotta blink a few more times to clear my eyes enough to actually make out her face, and it’s even more surprising – she actually seems shocked.  Maybe even guilty …

Sucking in a deep breath, I manage to force myself up onto my elbows and start crawling, once I got my knees under me too, then start casting about for my battleaxe, finally locating it.  Fuck … it’s lying at least fifteen feet away from me, off to the left, and she’s a good deal closer on the right.  Gods, how far did I even fly?

Well fuck … I got no choice, fight’s still on.  She won’t hesitate long, I’m sure.  Letting the breath go in a very weary sigh, I start crawling towards the axe, knowing full well there’s no chance I could actually get my feet under me yet.  I mean I got no idea if I even got enough strength to swing to defend myself if she does attack me when I reach it.

“Oh fuck … please don’t.”  She sounds so sad, I can’t help glancing her way.  She’s not even trying to lift her sword now, it’s just hanging in one hand down at her side as she watches me go.  “Please just … oh gods, I don’t know.  Stay down, maybe?”

“Will you … ooooh … will you let me live if I do?  Just fuck off an’ leave me alone?  And my friends?”

She winces at that, I can see the frustration return, but it’s a good deal more regretful now.  “Shit … no.  Fuck … you know I can’t –”

“Then go fuck yourself.”  I try to crawl a little faster, and slowly it starts to work.

“Shit …”  She growls it under her breath, and I hear her take a few steps forward, but then she stops, and starts back the other way, sounds like.  Frustrated pacing, like she was doing before, I realise.  She don’t want to kill me, I realise.  So far mostly she’s just been fighting by pure reflex.

I’m getting close … another few feet and I might be able to reach for it, ‘least if I stretch …

“Damn it …”  she hisses, and I hear her starting to come back my way, moving with more purpose now, I realise.  I gotta move … I try to scramble now, and my arms almost give out under me while my knees still seem to hold, so I come bloody close to ploughing myself into the dirt face first … shit!

Then she suddenly seems to stumble, at the same time that I hear a low, angry snarl that I can’t help recognising, and I have to look up as I hear her stumble around while there are sounds of frantic struggling, and I already know what I’ll see … Brung’s come out of hiding and rushed her, jumping on her back and now she’s stumbling about while he claws at her.  They’re both growling and cursing and neither of ‘em are really getting the upper hand it’s such a mess all of a sudden.  And now I got a break …

Determined not to waste the opportunity, I grit my teeth and try scrambling faster, getting my feet under me this time and not so much stumbling to the axe as mostly just falling down right next to it, somehow managing to snatch it up as I roll onto my back.  I keep going, and sort of manage to stumble up onto my feet on the other side, dragging the axe up after me as I stagger in a very wide circle backwards across the open ground, my balance barely there now as I damn near just fall on my back again.  Oh fuck, I’m a totally bloody mess right now.  I realise I never actually been smote before, and it’s safe for me to say I never wanna be again.  This is horrible.

For a long moment I’m teetering, having to wheel my arms as I fight for balance, most o’ my weight on my heels as I’m in severe danger of tipping backwards after all … then I finally settle, and I just freeze, arms stretched out for several more beats, waiting and hoping that I’m finally good.  Then I just double over and start heaving in great lungfuls of air, gasping and wheezing against the stiff, sharp burning pain in my ribs from the hit.  Gods … I still ain’t great here.  But I’m on my feet, at least.  Slowly I start to straighten up, and register the fight again.

As I look up the cleric throws him off, but Brung just springs right back up off the ground without even bouncing and just charges at her, dodging with startlingly deft speed as she tries to swing her sword at him and just bites empty air and dirt.  The blade don’t stick, though, it just carves clean through in a deep gouge and then she draws it out the other side, turning her stumble into a dance that manages to miss a leaping lunge from the goblin, who just goes sprawling.  Only to spring right back up again and pound at her on all fours, still snarling.

It's been a while since I saw Brung this mad, he’s genuinely worked up, I can tell.  Maybe it was seeing me threatened and alone, and clearly beaten on the ground, entirely at my attacker’s mercy, that was enough.  Last time saw him actually lose his temper he shredded ten men with nothing but claws and teeth.  The fact this girl’s still standing tells me she’s got some impressive skill of her own.

This time when he leaps at her she don’t bother trying anything fancy, she just sidesteps and then throws out her arm in a sharp, fast whip, backhanding him in the air and sending him spinning away.  This time he really does bounce, and he curses all the way, I’m sure of it even though it’s in that weird chittering goblin language he always uses when he really swears.  The cleric just growls under her breath, and I can see her robes have been somewhat torn and shredded, although it don’t look like he managed to actually draw any blood.  But she’s pissed all the same, ready to follow through while he’s still down.

I can’t let that happen, so I charge her myself … or I try to, anyway.  Mostly I just stumble forward, almost landing flat on my face but somehow managing to find my feet well enough to turn it into a very clumsy drunkard’s run.  I try my best to aim my path and don’t bother with any fancy moves, I just bear down on her the best I can and then swing a wild haymaker at her once I’m close enough.

She see me coming, but by then it’s too late for her to stop me, an’ I don’t reckon I could stop myself if I tried.  She manages to sidestep the axe itself, but I’m still bum-rushing her, so I still manage to just plough into her in a careening stumble and it’s low enough that I sweep her legs out from under her.

As I go down and do my best to turn the fall into a roll, I feel her flip right over my back and go down hard behind me, letting out a winded whoop as the air’s knocked out of her.  This time it don’t hurt all that much when I bounce, and I land on the other side with my knees under me and I don’t feel like I’m about to fall over this time, so I just react accordingly.  Thanking Thorin I still got the axe I get one foot under me and lunge at her, this time swinging high and bringing my axe down hard on top of her while she’s still working on pushing herself up.

There’s another great clang as our blades meet, she’s still too quick or just too alert for me to quite catch her this time, but this time there’s no great sparking flash, no fizzing noise, her sword’s cold and quiet in her hands.  Guess she didn’t have time to recharge while we were floundering, then.  I reel back, this time thankful there’s no real jarring from the hit, and she rolls backwards too, finding her own feet and ducking into a low guard with her sword gripped at the ready between us.  Easily long enough to keep us apart …

Brung rushes her now, I catch a flash of his dark form through the corner of my eye, but I’m just a beat late realising I’m giving him away too, she ducks away from him as he tries to leap onto her again.  As he goes sailing past she starts to swing her sword up, and I just know she’s intent on cutting him in half while he’s flying past, and I can’t allow that.

I swat the sword away with a more subdued ping and follow through by just jumping on top of her before she can right herself, ditching the axe now as I just start throwing punches.  Reckon whatever patience I had left is gone now, the fact she tried to kill my friend’s soured it.  As it is my first punch connects with a satisfying meaty thud and I follow through the best I can, but as I send her reeling back it manages to foul my aim instead so the next hit goes wide.  In the end we just go down together again, sprawling in a flailing tangle.

“Oh gods, you … fuck!”  she snarls as she tries to bat me away, but she clearly ain’t so comfortable at hand-to-hand.  “Get off me!”

She manages to get a clumsy hit through my defences as we scrabble in the dirt, the heel of one of hand catching me just under my eye, and my head snaps back from the surprising force of it, she’s a whole lot stronger than I would’ve thought.  Or maybe that’s just cuz she’s a cleric, it’s the strength of Corvina or something.  It hurts, a genuinely stunning hit, and I find myself clumsily reeling back.  I manage to get my own lucky hit in almost entirely by accident, managing to clip an elbow across her own face that likely bloodies her nose, I can’t quite tell, then I tumble to the ground and my head’s spinning again.

When I land it’s a tiny miracle I’m actually still facing the right way so I’m able to see her as she struggles up onto hands and knees, slowly reaching up to wipe her nose the best she can with the leather inside her bracer.  Looks like I was right, her nose is good an’ broke, blood pouring out of it, and she’s got quite the hot look because of it.

When she grabs hold of her sword and starts to drag it up she’s still looking at me, like she’s planning on genuinely murdering me now, and it’s sobering enough to clear my head all on its own.  I roll over and manage to get myself sitting up, and quickly cast about searching for my axe.  Shit … I can’t see it.  What the fuck was I thinking throwing it away like that?

This time when Brung jumps on her he takes her more by surprise, so when she swings her sword the angle’s wrong and it hits him broadside with the flat of the blade.  Even so, it’s a forceful hit and he goes flying, I see him spinning off while she turns to watch him go in somewhat dumbfounded surprise, and it’s enough to finally put the spur in me proper.  I forget about my battleaxe and just shove myself up, starting a fresh charge before I even got real footing.

It's a stumble instead of a rush, but I’ve put some force into it so I come at a full, low run, and I’m clawing the axe out of its loop on my right hip around the same time I start twisting, winding up to chop her down before she can stand.  I bring my other arm up almost as an afterthought, but it feels right, maybe I can drive it right down into her, kill her with a single stroke if I hit hard enough.

Except that she’s already turning back as I’m coming, and I got no way of stopping myself now, I got too much momentum and there’s no real distance between us.  I don’t think she even brings her sword to bear with any real thought, she’s just shifting in place as she starts to react, and it’s just in the right place in the moment.  Or maybe the very worst place, depending on who’s counting …

The only time I ever actually been stabbed, it was back in Hedesh, when I was a super dumb moron of a kid who hadn’t really learned to fight yet.  I’d barely been on the streets for three months, and a few bigger street kids were trying to take the leftovers I’d just managed to beg off a market stall from me.  I was having none of it, even when one of ‘em pulled a knife on me, I just puffed up and tried to bluff my way through.  Maybe I just didn’t think he’d really follow through with the threat.  If I hadn’t been found by a cleric of Helios that would’ve been it for Thelgaewynn Frostforge.

Mostly what stuck in my head from it was the pain.  Focused, and very hot, like my guts were on fire and I didn’t think I could survive that, never mind the actual damage itself.  This is so much worse, though.  And the blade ain’t even hot, I realise.

It’s like a white hot searing sliver of something driven right through me, and what armour I’m wearing don’t do shit against it.  I just keep sliding onto the blade, deeper, it goes right through me and I don’t stop until I hit the narrow guard.  By this point my legs have long since given out under me, I’m down on my knees and the only thing that’s actually holding me up now is her, she’s still holding the sword and looking me in the face.  She looks more horrified than I must do.  It’s almost funny.

“Oh … oh fuck … no … no, I didn’t …”  She starts to babble, suddenly struck rigid as she gawks down at her sword run right through me, and when I look down I can see the blood coming outta me now, and it looks like a lot even with the blade plugging the hole.  “No, no no … I’m sorry, I didn’t –”

“Thel!”  Du’s voice sounds like it’s a thousand miles away from me, or maybe it’s just cuz I’m starting to hear a rushing noise, it’s just starting to take over, like high pressure in my ears maybe, I dunno.  Suddenly I feel very heavy.

The half-hob jumps at the call, and it gives me a jolt too cuz I’m essentially attached to her now, her eyes flickering to the right where he’s likely coming now … just as another of those strange unseen doorways opens and someone else is here.  It’s some human, a tall, sandy haired young man but not that good looking, a bit weaselly if I’m honest, somewhat sallow in the face and looking decidedly under the weather now.  He’s dressed like some ridiculous dandy from Tabaphic, I notice, all burnt umber wool and quilted red leather, like some small child’s interpretation of a mage drawn in too many primary colours.  For a beat I find myself wondering who the hell this is, but then I remember I never actually got a look at their wizard before …

For a moment he exchanges words with the half-hob, who seems too rattled to really respond very coherently, she’s unable to take her eyes off my bleeding midsection and her blade rammed right through it.  I can’t make out what they’re saying, the roar in my ears has completely drowned everything else out now.  Meanwhile out the corner of my eye I catch sight of Brung, up once again even though he looks a bit battered now, scrambling back to us.

Finally the wizard just spits something, looking like he’s had enough now, and takes hold of the cleric, who only now starts to come back to herself enough she looks like she wants to protest … then he says something that I feel and they’re both gone with another of those strange optical illusions displacing the air around me and suddenly I’m just released.  And I feel something burst inside me …

Guess the blade really was mostly plugging the hole, because when I drop onto my back now a great splash of my own blood spurts all over me, enough that it hits me right in the face.  Oh fuck … it’s just gushing outta me now, I can feel it, my head’s getting light already.  The blinding, searing pain’s still there though, cut right through me, and I could really do without that.  I press my hands to the wound the best I can but it feels horribly big to my probing fingers right now, and it hurts even worse trying to apply pressure right now, even if wasn’t bleeding right out my back too.

Brung drops to his knees at my side a moment later and his eyes are wider than I ever saw ‘em before, his open mouth giving him a strangely uncertain look.  I never saw this expression before, I genuinely didn’t know he could even make it … fuck me, he’s scared, not for himself but for me.  He starts to reach out for the wound but stops himself.  When he looks at my face he takes a few beats to find his voice, but even when he finally starts talking I can’t hear him, the rushing sound’s worse while my head’s swimming like crazy.  Oh fuck, I really am dying …

“I’m … Brung, I think … I’m not … oh, this is strange … um …”  I can’t even hear myself speaking, at best all I hear is some kind of muffled empty … something …

After a moment or two of searching I finally spot Du, but he’s still far across the yard, looks like he’s crawling across the ground towards me, dragging himself along with one arm while he holds the other hand to his bleeding side.  Oh, that can’t be good, might just be neither of us are gonna survive the night …

“Du … Thorin, reckon we’re both fucked …”  I try reaching out to him but my hand just flops vaguely in his direction, I got no real control over it now.

After a moment I catch sight of movement from somewhere beyond him, a dull red glow slowly approaching I’m having trouble focusing on now, reckon my eyesight’s starting to fail me.  I’m only vaguely aware of Brung starting to clutch at me with more earnestness now, likely trying to tend to my wounds, and I can sort of hear muffled sounds, both close by from him, and further off from where Du must be, that suggest they’re both calling for help.  Then the glow starts to resolve itself and I blink, which clears it up some, and I finally recognise it’s two blazing red coals moving in the darkness, which means it’s Driver 8.  Of course.  From what I learned so far ‘bout what he can do makes sense he’d be the one to find us.

The golem ain’t alone, either, I can see more vague shapes moving round him, some slipping past to rush towards us now.  Some o’ the others arriving.  I wonder if Krakka’s one of ‘em.  And I wonder if he even can do something to help me right now …

Given that half-hob was a cleric of the Raven Queen, Goddess of Death … somehow I reckon getting run through with her sword ain’t good news …

Last thing I really register is someone else skidding to their knees at my side and essentially shoving Brung out the way, strong hands starting to work at my wounds with more accomplished hands, and I realise they’re human … oh, it’s Kesla.  Okay … I didn’t know she knew anything about medicine.  As I finally black out I realise I keep learning new things about that woman.

TO BE CONTINUED ...