I think it’s been a while since I last did a TeruMob comic. I got an artblock and almost didn’t want to finish it, but I pushed through and here we are! While working on this, I could feel my mood to draw slowly coming back, which is good! Next week will be the long weekend for me! I have a holiday from Thursday to Sunday!! YEY! Hopefully I can finish anything productive during that time! :”D
Okay so a Les Mis story that begins like a coffeeshop AU, with all the attendant tropes, and then 90% of the way through, the characters show up for work one morning and the door’s padlocked and the cafe owner is being led away in handcuffs. and enjolras and courfeyrac are like “yeah, uh about that” because it turns out they were only working there to write an expose on the company’s lower-than-legal wages and discriminatory hiring practices.
and then courfeyrac takes everyone out for “sorry we got your employer arrested” drinks.
Grog and Keyleth take a moment to unwind, and Keyleth learns some new tricks.
There’s something electric about running like this. The four-part rhythm of her paws against the packed earth, the wind through the ruff of her collar––it’s like racing the storm front, like skimming the waves as though outrunning the ocean itself. She exists somewhere outside her body when she runs like this, sheds the weight of her crown and her office and her future and herself until all that’s left is the pounding of her feet and the rush of the wind, carrying her along, weightless.
What she’s trying to say is that it’s pretty fucking great.
She skids to a stop miles from anywhere, sides heaving as she catches her breath, and moments later Grog appears through the tall grass, footfalls like thunder. He doesn’t slow, just grins wide and wild and chargers her with a roar, and she braces herself, and they go over in a whirlwind of bared teeth and tangled limbs. Back and forth they wrestle among the tall grasses until Keyleth pins him down, teeth at his throat, and he yields with a laugh. Only then does she roll off him and shiver back into her own skin, sprawled flat on her back and laughing loud enough to fill the empty sky far, far above. Grog sits up, legs splayed in front of him and grins, breathing heavy.
“No, don’t tell me that. Because you weren’t in my position. You didn’t know how he looked in his favorite shirt, how his eyes looked so damn beautiful every time the sunlight shines down on it, how his lips always looked irresistible. You didn’t know how much I love him, how much I thought he loved me, because I was too in love. No, I don’t know any better. Because I give my all when I love, and maybe that’s my problem. I love too much that when they leave, I’m left with nothing but a broken heart.
[ here’s to those who fall to quickly, only to be left with an empty void staying in their hear ]