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BreatheI know little.
I own even less.
I am free like no one else.
There was a sort of sobriety among the trainees on that summer night; it had just rained, and there was that morning-like feeling of briskness and new life in the air, even though the sun had long disappeared beyond the hilly western horizon. Before the initiation, they said their prayers, the words seemingly much more somber and dark than ever before, in their secluded rooms with only Alyavarra the Mother-Goddess listening in. It was this morning that they left their past lives, and wasted names, and lost destinies behind, walking onward down a new path, a path they had drawn without doubt, with a cool certainty in their hearts and minds.
They all dressed in the plainest way they could, and Kara was no exception, putting on a tunic as black as the night sky. Her long raven hair she spun into a tight braid and she took out her earrings, tossing them absentm
LiesYou don't know, at all, what I am feeling.
And don't understand my outrage and fear.
There is no such truth I haven't yet stated
That you could believe in, do I not speak clear?
There is no deception, no lie, no more anger
That I will yet take from others than me.
I’m done scraping, bowing, pretending to listen
My truth and my fury are greater than fear.
At this point in time, I have no more terror
In my heart, which burns with a fire so strong.
I call out for things that I still believe in:
I call for our freedom, and justice, and love.
I do not believe in what you are saying.
Not one word. Not one word at all.
I only believe in you having bought it –
A lie, greater than even your fall.
Rock, Paper, ScissorsTypically, the Nindortharn pass in northern Thaesteria was anything but a quiet pass. Typically, every lovely morning, dozens of people trekked down this road by the river Algorich, making their way beyond the Valley of Nindor and on to the Thaesterian lowlands. This was a relatively notable trade artery that axed through the valley, nudging the only local major city of Nindorlach and pressing on northeastward into the wastelands. Merchants who sought to set up trade relations with the northerners and the orcs (although a common joke in the Nindor said there was really no difference) often took this path to avoid gnome country and the resultant cross-border taxation.
Tonight wasn’t quiet, yes, but it wasn’t typical, either. Lightning slashed the sky and the water of the river Algorich tumultuously whirled round and round – up, up and out of the actual riverbed. This resultant column of water then swung round, aiming for the head of an unfortunate individual not too fa
Hitting the road-TG Caption
Danny pulled into Jackson's driveway. He shut off the car and opened the door. “I'll be right back, I'm going to go get him.” Danny said to Tyler who was sitting in the backseat eating a Twizzler.
“Alright,” he said munching on the red string. “Can you leave the radio on though?”
Danny put the key back into ignition and turned it to the radio setting.
“Yeah, I'll be back,”
Danny closed the door leaving Tyler in the car. Danny walked to the front door and knocked. He waited for a second then opened the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Styles, I'm here to pick up Jackson!!”
The living room TV was blaring the Spongebob theme song. Jackson's little sisters were sitting on the rug watching the intro. One of his sisters, Jenny, caught Danny walking in.
“Hey Danny!” She screamed.
Danny's other sister Jessica turned and joined in as well. “Hey Danny!”
Danny smiled and waved. “Hey Jessica and
Words in hugs and cuddles
Hey loved it when Donnie and he would cuddle. Yes they were older now, with Donnie being 11 and Mikey being 10. Yet somehow he still enjoyed the feelings he got when Donnie and he would huddle against each and cuddle. To feel Donnie’s arms around his shoulders holding him, shielding him, keeping him safe. It filled his chest with warm and happiness. It made him giggle and shift, trying to get Donnie to hold him tighter, while Donnie would giggle and do just that; wrapping his arms around his little brother even tighter.
“I like Donnie hugs.”
Behind him Donnie squeezed him a little tighter, while leaning in to nuzzle the side of his face. “and I like giving them to you.”
Again he giggled; this time from Donnie’s warm breath which tickled his neck and made him squirm. Making Donnie lean in and begin to tickle his sides.
Mikey squirmed, twisted and writhed. Doing his best to get away from h
yandere!Bertholdt x reader: Devil's spoke INTRO
By now, someone should have rousted you from bed and thrown you into training. The scratching of your nails on the mattress brought you out of your slumber. Softly groaning, you forced your eyes open and rubbed your face, everything around you still quiet. Your fingers tapped the headboard that sat against the wall, and your eyes scanned every detail of the bunk above you as your mind tried to wake up enough to consider leaving your sheets. The absolute silence reminded you that no one else could be awake. There were snores, peaceful sighs and tossing and turning. You almost missed the sound of heavy boots stomping down the hall at night, your father never practicing the art of not shaking the house as he walked. A rather obnoxious sound, really, but a sound at least.
At last there was a noise other than yourself. You heard the bed springs above you creak and you looked over to meet blue eyes. Annie, the girl that slept above you, was leaning over the side of her mattress; her upside d
Words In Anger (part 1)
It had been an accident. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He’d just thought……..if he could help Donnie with his experiment then maybe Donnie wouldn’t be so stressed all the time. He’d tried to be careful, shuffling around Donnie’s lab picking up the loose papers and diagrams, doing his best to put the ones that seemed to go together in the same piles. He hadn’t even seen the viles of chemicals, hadn’t purposefully backed into them or knocked them over spilling their contents all over the floor.
“oh shit….oh shit….oh shit.”
He tried to clean the mess up, grabbing a rag to soak up the chemicals which had begun to smoke. As the rag soaked up the colored liquid it began to heat up, getting hotter and hotter until he found it had become too hot to hold. he dropped the rag cursing at himself as he blew on his burned hand.
He yelped in fear as the rag burst into flames, which began
words while sick
Mikey watched as in front of him Donnie coughed for a moment before letting out a gentle wheeze. “sorry……can't play……today.”
Mikey shook his head, “Downy be better.”
As he spoke he leaned over making sure the small blanket that was draped over his older brother covered as much of him as it could. Under the blankets Donnie smiled weakly. “I’ll…..be ok…… need rest.”
Behind him Mikey felt Leo and Raph shift, “we leave you now Donnie. Get better.”
Donnie nodded and closed his eyes, doing his best to draw in deep breaths but only succeeding in making himself cough more.
Mike felt his brother’s touch his shoulder, trying to get him to follow them out of the room. But he ignored them, shrugging off their touches as he moved in closer to Donnie. “help?”
Donnie opened an eye and looked at him. “m…Mikey?”
Mikey nodded, “how help?”
Donnie smiled wea
The Lives We Lead (CHAPTER 7.5)
Slowly Donnie woke, blinking as he slowly sat up. looking across the room he bit his lip. Raphael had shifted, he no longer lay under the covers and blankets but instead sat sitting on top of them. he’d pulled on his underwear and pants with his shirt slung over his shoulder, while he held his head in his hands. As Donnie watched Raph's sides shook slightly. “R….raph?” Donnie’s voice made Raph flinch slightly, yet still the red turtle turned a little to look at him with one eye. “oh……sorry…….I…….I didn’t mean to……….wake you.” Sitting up a little more Donnie made sure to keep the blankets around his chest and neck; there was no need to remind Raph of what had happened the night before. “raph……..are you…….ok?” he watched as Raph took another breath his sides shaking. “I………I……….” h
The Gatherer of TwigsThe flames don’t burn. They itch... as week old tattoos often do. A wildfire of orange and gold crawls from my ankle to my knee, my left leg engulfed forever. I’ve been branded by a demon, its soul sinking into my skin like enchanted ink.
This happens every time, I carry one mark for each soul I have reaped. My right forearm bears a feather from a Phoenix, there is a lone wing in blinding white that takes up half my back from the only Angel I've ever taken. Vibrant cerulean and jade scales swirl around my neck like a collar- those appeared after a pair of Selkies. A tangle of hissing snakes wrap around my left thigh thanks to a nasty, ancient Gorgon. I also have waves on my ass cheeks from a snarky Leviathan and a zombie Chihuahua dressed in pink on my left bicep from an even snarkier Hellhound.
I am a reaper, guiding the souls of only supernatural beings to the afterlife. I am not Death. I do not wear a hooded cloak or carry a scythe. Death is a cranky bastard and ri
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