goblin laugh


Context: Same party as the half-orc paladin politely asking a bugbear if we’d seen his friend.  While exploring a cave a goblin was escorting us and the group had to cross a rickety bridge.

Gnome Wizard: *skips across the bridge following the goblin without thinking*

Dragonborn Druid (me): *follows a little more slowly but trying not to think much of it*

Elf Bard: *Cautiously walks across*

DM: Ok, as the heaviest, you two will have to roll dexterity.

Half-Orc Paladin (OOC): Okay, I’ll go first *rolls a 13*

DM: The bridge makes a few little creaking noises, and shakes a bit, a board falls as you pass, but you get across fine.

Goliath Cleric (OOC): Okay, [GC] having seen how it shook at [HOP] is kind of nervous, so casts guidance upon himself, then slowly tip toes across the bridge *rolls a nat 1* …with my guidance its 3?

DM: Nope, that is a nat 1.  Roll a d20 for me

GC: *rolls a 20*

DM: ……and a d6

GC: *rolls a 6* I have +4 to strength so 10

DM: You put your toe on the bridge and immediately fall, smash into the bridge, breaking it completely and fall into the river below.  Some nearby goblins are laughing at you.



This Feels So Wrong (Part Three)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: Yes (Can I request a Peter imagine where y/n was Peters bff but he was trying to keep his ‘Spider-Man secret’ from her, and one day she was in danger and he saved her and he kissed her (Spider-Man kissed her😂) and she was daydreaming all the time the othr day at school and when she told Ned, Michelle and Peter about her ‘little time’ with Spider-Man, Peter blushed and u can make the end.)
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mentions of Food, Injuries, Crying, Blood, Death
Part One Part Two

Originally posted by dailymcugifs

You hadn’t spoken to Peter in days. It was the longest you two had ever gone without talking, and you couldn’t help but miss him. You wouldn’t let that break you, though. You weren’t ready to talk to him after the betrayal and heartbreak you felt at the discovery that he was the one who kissed you. He had full knowledge of your identity, and while he was kissing you, you were kissing Spiderman. 

Peter and Spiderman weren’t the same person, no matter the fact that he was the one under the red spandex suit. 

You avoided him during class, and eventually, he stopped trying to come up to you. You would only walk away, not looking at his face. It was difficult, but you made it work. If you didn’t see his face, you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the pain both of you were feeling.

And you ignored what you stopped him from saying on that night, because knowing that he– knowing what he was about to say, would tear you up from the inside out.

Michelle and you were sitting at your new lunch table when it happened. After a few days of eating lunch on your own while your other three friends sat in near silence on the other end of the lunch room, Michelle chose to join you. In her words, she “didn’t want you to look like a pathetic-ass loser.”

You secretly appreciated her presence, even if she only sat across from you quietly while reading the book in her lap. You knew she actually cared, and it made you smile every time she walked over to you. 

The two of you were now eating your lunches, not talking and Michelle again reading. You were sure it was the fourth book you’d seen her with this week, and it was only Wednesday.

Multiple loud ringtones and the sound of violent vibrating distracted you from where your eyes were concentrated on your sandwich, mind wandering to anything and everything. You startled as the loud noises echoed through the cafeteria, accidentally whacking your arm against the table. You hissed through your teeth, letting out a quiet curse as the stitched-up cut in your arm bursted with pain.

You looked down at your phone, grabbing it and grimacing in pain, to see what the fuss was about. Your eyes widened as you read the notification, the phone still shaking in your grip. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and Michelle looked up to notice your fear-stricken expression.

“What happened?” She asked, usual dry tone gone. She could clearly see something was wrong.

You began to read off your phone with a monotone voice. “Live Feed: Villain ‘Green Goblin’ battles Spiderman in Queens, the hero badly injured and barely fighting his enemy off with no Avengers in sight on…”

You trailed off, hand beginning to shake along with your phone.

“On what?” Michelle urged, and her eyebrows began to furrow.

“It’s the street Peter lives on,” you nearly whispered. You couldn’t feel pain any longer in your arm. “Oh my god,” the realization struck, and you whipped your head to look at the opposite side of the cafeteria. 

Peter wasn’t at his table. But Ned was, also staring down at his phone with wide eyes. 

You didn’t have time to think, only acting as you stood from your seat and began to run. Michelle yelled after you but you didn’t listen, crashing through the doors and into the empty hallways. You shoved your phone into your pocket as you ran through the halls, and you ignored any teacher’s yells for you to slow down.

When you heard Ned’s calls from behind you, you stopped. You figured that you had to catch your breath to be able to make your way to Peter, so you turned around to face the boy with the same expression of worry on his face as yours.

“Where are you going?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if you should tell him the truth.

“Why are you following me?” You asked instead. He squinted his eyes at you.

“Peter told me,” he said, and you looked at him with wide eyes,

“And what did he tell you?” You responded with another question.

“He said that he told you that he’s Spiderman,” he replied, and you immediately felt the betrayal seep back in.

“You knew he was Spiderman?” You asked with a soft voice, in fear it would crack if you spoke any louder.

“Yes,” Ned responded slowly, and he knew that wasn’t the answer you wanted when your face dropped.

“How long have you known?” You didn’t want to believe that he had told someone else before you, but then Ned replied with,

“A few months. Six, maybe.”

“A few months?” You burst out, eyebrows furrowing as you felt your heart hurt in your chest. 

“He didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ned said, trying to make you feel better. It didn’t work.

“Well, that worked out great, don’t you think?” You let out a self-deprecating laugh, looking to your feet.

Peter was your best friend. He wasn’t supposed to hide things from you, especially not big things like this. 

“He’s got a lot of enemies, people who are trying to kill him,” Ned went on, and you shook your head. You didn’t want to hear things like this. Peter was the nicest boy you knew. He wasn’t someone who had enemies. “And he didn’t want to tell you in case someone found out who he was. Or who you were. He was trying to-”

“Protect me,” you finished for him, looking back up. “He said he wanted to protect me,” you said so quietly that Ned almost didn’t hear you. And then you remembered the notification you and the whole school had gotten, and you took a step back. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Ned reached out and caught your wrist in his grip. You looked at him impatiently as he let out a sigh. “Just, be careful,” he said. You nodded in response and then turned around, Peter the only thing on your mind.

You made your way out of the school, and you didn’t think you had ever run faster. Peter’s apartment was only a few short minutes away, but as you sprinted down multiple sidewalks, the trip had never felt longer.

You knew you had made it when you saw a police barricade. Police cars were lined up across the street, the officers themselves crouching behind the cars with their guns aimed towards the middle of the street. When you stepped up behind them, you gasped at what you saw.

Floating in the air was a boy with sickly green skin and a menacing smile on his face. He looked truly terrifying, and you didn’t want you or Peter anywhere near him. Below him, cowered on the ground, was your best friend.

His suit was torn up in so many places, and it looked like more of his skin was showing than the suit. His pale skin was covered in cuts and dirt and scrapes, and you could see patches of blood appearing on the suit. He held an arm around his middle, and his hand was pressed tightly against his abdomen. You were sure he was seriously injured by the way that he was barely holding himself up.

“What are you doing?” You asked the police officers hysterically, watching as Peter lost energy every second he was sitting there in the middle of the concrete road. He had no one to save him. “Help him!”

An officer turned towards you and gave you a sympathetic look. But you didn’t care to even glance towards him, too scared to look away from Peter. “We can’t do anything. Our weapons do nothing against this guy. We’ve tried.”

And then you noticed that Peter didn’t have his mask on. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice it as soon as you arrived, but his mask was discarded on the ground next to him. He was letting the world see his identity. And if he was doing that, then–

He knew he was going to die.

“So you’re just,” you stopped to whimper as you watched the Goblin land gently on the ground. He was talking to Peter with a scowl on his face, and although you couldn’t hear him, you weren’t sure you wanted to know what he was saying. “You’re just going to let him die?”

The officer sighed before he simply said, “I’m sorry.” He turned around, looking back at the pair, and you wondered why he tightened his grip on his gun and put his finger on the trigger if he wasn’t going to use it.

But you wouldn’t have this. You wouldn’t just watch your best friend die, the love of your life die. You had been through too much together, and you still had so much more to go through.

You made your way to the edge of the barricade, and you quickly squeezed yourself between the police cars before you ran towards Peter. You ignored the officers yelling from behind you, telling you to get back. Peter was the only thing you could see, the only thing that mattered.

All anger you had towards him disappeared in that moment as you stood in front of him, blocking him from the Goblin’s view. “Stop!” You yelled, and he tilted his head at you curiously. 

“(Y/N),” Peter murmured softly, and you almost didn’t hear him. You knew he didn’t do it purposely, for he was too weak to speak any louder. It made you even more worried. “Get out of here.”

“Well, what do we have here?” The villain said mischievously, taking a step closer to you. You stayed in front of Peter. 

“Stay away from him,” your voice shook as you spoke, but you stood up straighter, trying to seem strong. You needed to be strong for Peter.

The Goblin laughed, almost like the words were ridiculous. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, before lifting an arm. He shot something bright green out of the device connected to him, and it hit you in the side, knowing you off balance. The pain was unbearable as you let out a cry, curling up onto the ground. You thought you heard Peter call out your name, but the ringing in your ears kept you from being sure.

The villain laughed as he kicked Peter square in the chest. He fell on his back, letting out a groan of pain. He still clutched his side, but it didn’t seem to be doing any help. You could see the blood leaking between his fingers.

“No,” you cried out, trying to sit up. But the excruciating pain in your side became too much, and you fell back onto your side. You moved your hand to press against it, and you could feel a thick consistency. You knew it was blood.

Like Peter, you thought.

You watched as Peter turned his head to look at you, and he tried to smile weakly. He took a deep breath before speaking, trying to be loud enough for you to hear him. “Don’t look,” he said, voice raspy and cracking in the middle of words. 

“No, Peter,” you tried to crawl towards him, but the pain in your side stopped you again. You could barely speak, let alone move. 

“It’s okay,” he said, and you saw tears begin to run down his cheeks. “Look away, (Y/N).”

He kept his eyes on you as you saw the Goblin hold his arm out again. But this time, he had a knife in his hand. Your eyes widened, and you looked back at Peter.

His face was red, and tears were the only thing you could see as he sobbed. He tried to put on a brave face, sniffling and still looking at you and not the Goblin. But you knew he could see the knife from the corner of his eye. 

You stretched your arm out, using it to drag yourself closer to him, inch by inch. You kept your eyes on his, and he tried to keep his tears from falling.

“Don’t look,” he repeated, shaking is head minimally. 

“Peter,” you began to cry, letting reality catch up to you. Your best friend was about to die. The boy you loved was about to die. 

And you saw his eyes widen, a sob escaping his mouth, and you both knew that the knife was no longer in the Goblin’s hand. You didn’t want to look, but you had to as you tilted your head upwards to watch as the monster flew away, his cackles echoing around him. You caught sight of the knife, and you let out an almost inhumane noise.

“Peter,” you said, and you didn’t care about the pain or the blood anymore. You sat up and crawled your way over to him. “Peter,” you said louder, and you didn’t know where this sudden strength was coming from, but you figured it had something to do with adrenaline.

You made your way to his side, and you sobbed as you looked at the knife imbedded in his stomach. “Peter,” you saw his head still tilted to the side, and you placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. His eyes were already drifting closed, and his face was deathly pale. With your other hand, you pressed down on the space around the knife, trying to keep the blood from escaping.

“Peter, come on,” he looked at you under hooded eyelids, and you held back another sob. “Hey,” you tried to smile at him.

“(Y/N),” he smiled lazily, eyes fluttering. You knew he was getting delirious, and you didn’t know what to do. You heard the officers far behind you calling for ambulances. “Get outta here, it’s dangerous.” His words were hard to understand, slurred together, but you made due. 

It was okay. It was okay.

“No, we’re okay. We’re okay now, Peter,” you smiled at him with watery eyes, and a tear fell onto his face. You wiped it off, but you didn’t think he noticed it in the first place. You stroked his cheek, trying to keep him distracted. And you tried to keep your gaze away from the knife inside of him.

“Oh, okay,” he let out a breath of air, and his breathing seemed to be getting shallower. His eyes fell closed.

“Peter, come on, keep your eyes open,” you patted his cheek lightly, and he reopened them, albeit somewhat reluctantly. “Peter,” your voice cracked, and you didn’t know what to say. What was someone supposed to say in a situation like this?

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” you said, and Peter’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I shouldn’t have, and it was stupid, and we should have just talked it out,” you began to sob halfway through, and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore.

“Don’t,” Peter said, and had to pause to take a breath. Your hands shook where they rested on his cheek and stomach. “Don’t apologize. It was– my fault.”

He tried to catch his breath, and the paler he got, the clammier he got, the more you cried. “No, it wasn’t. None of this was your fault.”

“(Y/N), I–” he breathed out heavily. “I’m tired.”

“I know, I know,” you stroked his cheek with your thumb, and you weren’t sure if it was sweat gathering on his forehead or your tears. “Stay awake for me, please.”

When he didn’t respond, and it almost seemed like he was staring into space while breathing erratically, you slapped him lightly. He startled, and you bit your lip to stifle a cry. “Yeah,” he whispered. You could see the fear slowly catching up to him again, and you needed to distract him again.

“Hey, look at me, Peter,” he didn’t listen, and you weren’t sure if he had even heard. “Peter! Look into my eyes,” he complied, his brown eyes looking too glossy for your liking. It was almost like he wasn’t completely there, like it wasn’t him behind those eyes but someone else entirely.

“I love you,” you said, voice shaking so much that you were worried he wouldn’t understand you. So you repeated it. “I love you, Peter Parker. I will always love you.”

A smile formed on his face, barely there, but it made you give him one back. “Really,” he said, breathing heavily still. He blinked rapidly, although you could feel his heartbeat slowing under your hands. “You, love, me?” He spoke between breaths, and he was barely audible now.

“Yes, Peter,” you cried, and your voice wouldn’t stop cracking. “I love you so much.”

“Good,” he said, laughing slightly, but then he began to cough. You looked at him with wide eyes, wondering if this was it, because he clearly couldn’t catch his breath. 

But you weren’t ready. It wasn’t supposed to be his time yet. This wasn’t his time. It couldn’t be.

“Peter, breathe,” you said frantically, running your fingers through his hair to come him down. “Breathe, breathe,” you brought him up higher in your arms, and he immediately started breathing again. You sighed in relief, but then saw a streak of red flow down his chin.

It was blood.

You whimpered quietly, wiping it away with your thumb. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” you said repeatedly, and it reminded you of when Peter was whispering the same words to you on the ferry when he saved you. It’d only been a week since it happened. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You love me?” He asked again. Your heart was breaking into pieces at the expression on his face: hopeful, scared, and oblivious all mixed into one.

“Yes, I love you,” you cried, and repeating it for him just made your heart hurt all the more. “I love you, I love you.”

“Good,” he said again, and you sniffled. This wasn’t a good sign. His breathing slowed, and his eyes took one last look at you before fluttering multiple times. “Because, because,” he tried to catch his breath, but it didn’t seem like he could. You stroked his cheek, trying to calm him. “Because I lo…..”

He stopped, trailing off on a breath, and his eyes were closed. His body was limp under you, and you couldn’t feel his pulse under your fingers any longer.

“Peter,” you yelled, hysterical. “Peter!” You shook his shoulders, trying not to hit the knife still in his skin. “Peter, wake up. Wake up!” You sobbed, and you screamed, and you cried. 

You cried for the boy who would never get to go to MIT like he always planned, and you cried for the boy who was so innocent and kind but held a secret that was so dangerous for him, and you cried for the boy who would never get the quiet house in the suburbs with a spouse and children that he always told you he dreamed about.

You cried for the boy who never opened his eyes, and who never got to finish the words he so desperately always wanted to say to you.

Well I’m crying. Are you guys? I’d really love some feedback on this part, so please let me know what you think. Requests are open :)


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Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 31


In hindsight, I probably should have expected a trap right away, from the moment I heard the voice. High and light and familiar, and shrill with fear.  Agatha.

           I’m running towards the Wavering Wood before I can take too much time to think about when I’ve last seen Agatha.  If I’d been thinking, I would have remembered seeing her at lunch and in classes, and that she’d only gone back to her room after lunch to grab a book or something, not into the Wood.  But here I am, following her voice, summoning the Sword of Mages as I run.  Because what if?

           “Agatha, where are you?”


           “Where are you?”


           I always thought that monster attacks only happened deep in the Wood, if you stumbled into a lair or something, not that they would seek people out, and not this close to the edge of the Wood.

           But apparently I’m wrong.  

           Because before I’m even four trees into the shadows, something explodes against the back of my head and I drop like a stone.


           When I come to I’m face-down in the dirt and something with deft fingers is securing the knots in the ropes around my wrists. I start to thrash and find my ankles bound as well, and I receive another smack in the head, which almost has me losing consciousness again.  I wait for the stars to pass from my vision and go still, even though every part of me wants to kick, fight, escape.  Instead I listen.

           Whatever has its foot on my back (at least I think it’s a foot) is human-shaped, but that is not to say that it is human.  It has long, spindly fingers that seem to shake as they tie.  It breathes loudly and quickly, like it’s in a hurry.  I hear a twig crack to my left, a little way off.  Something else is here.      

           “There you have it, then.”

           The voice is cool and familiar, and my heart sinks like a stone.

           “As you said,” comes another voice, this time from the creature on my back.  It’s gravelly and high like nails on glass.

           “I didn’t lie.”

           “You did.”


           “You said you required no payment,” the higher voice hisses like it’s smiling.

           “I stand by the statement.”

           “Then you’re either lying, or you’re a fool.”

           “A fool how?”

           “A fool to come here.”

           There’s a dull thud, and then the crunch of the leaves as the body hits the forest floor.  I want to turn my head and look, but I can’t reveal that I’m conscious.

           The harsh, loud breathing continues, this time scuttling around to my left, no doubt tying another set of wrists and ankles.

           Something crawls across my hands, maybe a spider, and I shake it off without thinking.

           I can actually feel it when the creature catches me moving.

           “Nighty-night,” it sings in Agatha’s voice before its foot connects with my head and everything goes black.


I don’t open my eyes right away when I wake up, my head aches too much.  Like there’s a needle from one temple through to the other.

           I feel something shift against my back there’s the stink of sweat and long-dead meat.  The air is cold and damp and for a minute I think I’m in the catacombs.

           Then I remember.

           I open my eyes slowly and to my relief there’s no blinding light to aggravate my headache.  I’m staring at my navel, and I’m in a sitting position, my back against something warm and solid.  Rope stings my wrists and when I lift my head I see it wrapped around my torso and ankles as well.  The ground around me is cold stone and scattered with bones and tiny, sharp rocks. Moisture trickles down the stone walls, patchy with moss and spider webs.

           A cave.  It’s brought me to its cave.

           And not just me.

           Snow shifts against my back again and I have to roll my eyes, even though it burns.  It tied us together.  Figures.

           “Waking up, are we?” comes the goblin’s rasping voice from behind me.  I don’t turn my head to look at it, I already know what it looks like.  Short, pale, gaunt and wide-eyed, with graying brown hair in a mess on the top of its head.  An old-looking suit that’s covered in mud and bits of dried-on… well, let’s just say that goblins aren’t elegant diners.

           “Let us go,” Snow growls at it, and I can picture his defiant glare.  It’s been directed at me more than once.  It’s actually kind of cute, if I weren’t so often on the receiving end, I’d turn to mush inside.  As it is, I can’t help but smile a little.  Stupid, brave Snow.  No wonder he’s the Mage’s Heir.

           “Why in the name of magic would I do that?” the goblin laughs.  “Look at me. Look at you.  You’re not just any old snack, are you?  You’re the Mage’s Heir.”

           “Which is exactly why you should let us go before you get hurt.”

           “You’re not going to kill me.”

           “That so?  Why not?”

           “Because I’m not going to kill you.”

           I can almost feel Snow balk in confusion.

           “Not yet, anyway.  I’ll say it again: you’re the Mage’s Heir,” the goblin goes on, “and do you know what happens to the lucky goblin who kills the Mage’s Heir?”

           Snow doesn’t say it out loud, but he knows.  I know.

           “So why wait until now to attack?” Snow questions.

           “Unfortunately, your little school has some pretty strong magical defenses.  I couldn’t get close enough until someone let me through.  You can thank your little friend for that.”

           I grit my teeth and don’t say anything.

           “Why not just kill us now, then?” Snow spits. “You’ve got us where you want us.”

           “Ah, but who would that convince?” the goblin chuckles.  “Anyone could claim to have killed you, and believe me, many have tried.  No, a simple claim won’t do.  You’re coming with me to the goblin court, where I will kill you, and your meddling friend, in front of many witnesses, and no one will be able to deny that I have killed the Mage’s Heir.”

           “And you’ll become the Goblin King,” Snow finishes.

           “As is my right.”

           “You won’t get away with it.”  I roll my eyes again at the cliché.

           “Spare me the theatrics,” the goblin groans and I hear the flick of a switchblade.  Snow cries out in pain and jerks back, his head hitting mine and my eyes explode again. A scent fills the air, familiar and terrifying.  Blood. His blood.

           It’s a good thing he can’t see me because my fangs pop instantly at the smell.

           Snow yells again and I don’t know what the goblin is doing to him but it’s making my stomach sick.

           “Stop,” I growl.

           Snow gives a gasp of pain and the smell of his blood grows stronger.

           “I said, stop.”  This time I shout.


The goblin stops, leaving me to pant away the sting of its knife in my shin.  My head is pounding from the many blows in the past half-hour (maybe more, I don’t know how long I was out after the kick) and blood trickles down my cheek to my neck.

           I don’t know if Baz is trembling against my back, or if it’s me doing the trembling.

           The goblin pockets the switchblade and turns its attentions on Baz, kneeling beside him and speaking close to his ear.

           “What’s wrong?” it sneers.  “Don’t like the smell?”  It drags a grimy finger across the cut on my cheek and waves my blood in Baz’s face.  I feel him go tense and still, like he’s holding his breath.

           “I’m surprised at you, boy,” the goblin continues, “weren’t you the one who set all this up?  And now you don’t want me to hurt him?”

           “Just leave him alone,” Baz seethes.

           “Make up your mind,” the goblin tells him.  “Or would you rather I paid you more attention?” There’s a crackle and I turn my head to see the tiny fireball the goblin has conjured in its hand.

           I’m feeling more and more sure that Baz is a vampire by the minute, because even though he’s obviously trying not to react, he shrinks back from the flame automatically.  If so much as a spark hits his skin…

           “Get away from him,” I spit at the creature, “it’s me you want.”

           “And it always has to be about you,” Baz pipes up, sarcastic to the last.

           The goblin stares at me for a long second before extinguishing the fireball in its fist and standing up again.

           “You boys will want to get some rest,” it says, “we’ll be leaving at sundown.”


Goblins are nocturnal creatures, and this one has been up pretty late in the day, so it doesn’t take long for the wretched thing to fall asleep.  Somehow it doesn’t look as peaceful in its sleep as Snow always does.

           “Alright Baz?” Snow whispers to me.

           “What the fuck are you asking me that for?”

           “Thought I’d try some compassion, since we’re in the same situation, but clearly it’s a waste of my time.  Fuck you.”





           “Your move.”

           I feel him whip his head around.  “You have got to be joking.”

           “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

           “This is your idea of a practical joke?” he asks incredulously.  “Selling me out to a goblin?  And where does your own capture play into this brilliant plan?”

           “It doesn’t,” I admit, “I was going to kill it before it could do you any real harm.”    


           “I thought so.”

           “It’s not even your turn, you twat.”    

           “Thought I’d go for the element of surprise. Besides, you haven’t made your move yet today.”

           “Clearly you haven’t checked your closet yet.”

           My head drops forward and I sigh.  “Great.”

           “Don’t mention it.”

           “Seriously though, you’ve been slacking off.  Where were you on Monday?”

           He doesn’t answer.


           “I heard you.”

           “Well, then?”

           A defeated sigh.

           “You know those terrible nightmares you had that night?”


It takes a second for the penny to drop, but when it does it’s louder than a bomb.


           “It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

           “You cursed me into having nightmares?”  He sounds angry enough to burst into flames, which I’m not convinced he couldn’t actually do if he lost control.

           “It was an accident.”

           “So you just accidentally formulated a curse to attack me in my sleep.”

           “You were only supposed to have minor nightmares,” I insist, “not start yelling in terror.”

           “Sorry,” he snarls, “did I keep you up?”

           “That’s not what I mean.”

           “I cannot fucking believe you.”

           “You took my voice,” I shoot back, unable to keep the childish defensiveness out of my whisper.  “That’s practically unforgiveable.  And now you’ve almost gotten both of us killed, and you didn’t even know that I was responsible for the nightmares.”

           “The moment we’re out of this cave, you are dead.”


           “So if you wanted me to have nightmares, why did you wake me up?  Why not just let me suffer?”

           “Because you were terrified, Baz,” I say like it should be obvious.  “You were crying out for your mum and it was awful.”

           He’s quiet for a second before replying. “What else was I calling out for?”


           “Nothing.  You just kept saying ‘no’ a lot.”

           Baz lets out a long, shuddering sigh like everything he dreamt about is rushing back.  They must have been some of the worst nightmares of his life the way he’s reacting.

           I should have held him.  I should have comforted him.  I wanted to comfort him.  But I didn’t.  Because I was too proud.  I was too scared.

           I want to comfort him now, but we’re tied up. That and he’d probably vaporize me if I tried.

           “I’m sorry.”


           I take a deep breath.  “It was wrong of me to give you nightmares.  I should have known better, or I should have told you that it was me, I…” I’m almost too afraid to say it in a register that he’ll hear. “I’m sorry, Baz.”

           He’s quiet for a long time.


           “Don’t expect me to forgive you.”

           “I don’t.”


           “But thank you.”



           I breathe a sigh of relief.


“So,” Simon ventures after a heavy moment, “what now?”

           “We wait for the goblin to kill us.”

           “Yeah, right.”  I can practically hear his eye-roll.  “We need to get out of here.”

           “Any ideas?”


           “Let’s hear it.”

           “We’ll need to work together.”

           Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.  “How inspiring, Snow, I thought you said you had a plan.”

           “Any plan we come up with is going to require teamwork,” he explains in a whisper.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re literally tied to each other.”

           “I had noticed, thanks.”

           “So, we’ll have to work together to get out.”

           “You have a sword,” I reason, “can’t you use it to cut us free?”

           “I can’t summon it without spearing you,” he says, “it would appear in my hand, the blade would probably end up in your stomach.”

           Two birds with one stone, my mind supplies darkly, but I push the thought away. “Maybe I could burn through the ropes.”

           “Yeah, and send us both up in flame.  Great idea.”

           “Got anything better?”

           “Where’s your wand?”

           “Back pocket.”

           “Can you reach it?”

           “If I could, we’d already be out of here.”

           “If I can get it to you, could you spell the ropes off?”

           “Any chance to get your hands on my arse, eh Snow?”

           “Fuck off.”

           “Yes, I could spell the ropes off.”

           “Alright, what then?  Sneak out?”

           I cast a glance at the sleeping goblin. “Not until we deal with Goblin King over here.”

           “You have a plan?”

           A grin spreads across my face.  “Oh, I have a plan.”


Baz insists that I make a noisy show of escaping, to wake the goblin.  Why he would want to do that, I can’t imagine (he hasn’t told me all of the plan, which should probably make me suspicious), but he seems to be getting more excited about whatever he’s going to do by the second.  The smirk I’m so familiar with is glued to his face, but instead of making me feel sick, I’m buzzing like I’ve had too much sugar. Maybe because he’s not directing it at me this time, but sharing it with me.

           I have to wonder why we’ve never teamed up before.  Granted, we’re usually at each other’s throats, but something about this, the working together, the shaky alliance, is making me giddy.  I’m almost giggling as I throw the ropes to the cave floor.

           Baz has already disappeared from view as the goblin wakes up, turning to find me frozen on my way to the cave entrance.

           “Where do you think you’re going?” it sneers.

           “Goblins,” I shake my head, “you really are as stupid as they say.”

           The goblin pulls its blade from its pocket again, but doesn’t respond with any more than a growl.

           “You see,” I go on, “you were smart to take us both.”

           I can’t help but watch Baz as he appears behind the creature, silent as a wraith.

           “But you were a fool,” I grin, “to leave us both alive.”

           A flame appears in Baz’s hand.  In a flash he wraps an arm around the creature’s neck and shoves the fireball into its open mouth.

           Its eyes widen and steam pours out of its ears as the fireball takes the path of least resistance: right down the throat. The human illusion starts to disintegrate and I see flashes of the goblin’s true face, gray and leathery with red eyes and sagging, pointed ears.  It struggles but Baz holds on tight, until the thrashing stops and the goblin droops in his arms, and he drops it, limp and smoking, to the ground.

           He hasn’t looked away from me the entire time.

           I haven’t looked away from him.


It’s still light outside when we emerge from the cave, but we’re clearly much deeper into the Wood than before.  I don’t recognize anything.

           “Hang on, I’ll climb a tree and get our bearings,” I tell Simon.

           He gives me a quizzical look and unfurls his wings without a word.

           I shrug and take my place at the bottom of a tree.  “I bet I could still beat you.”

           “Come off it.”

           “You haven’t seen me climb a tree.”

           “And you haven’t seen me fly.”

           We stare each other down for a second, tasting this new dynamic.  Still rivalry, but different.  Less hateful, more fun.

           I leap into the tree without warning.

           I can see his eyes widen as he takes in my speed, and he kicks off the ground an instant later, but we reach the halfway point around the same time.  He beats me by seconds, perching at the top like a bird while I scramble to the branch below him.

           “See anything?” I ask, catching my breath.

           He scans for a moment before pointing behind us. “There’s Watford.  Not a bad view from here,” he says as I climb up a branch to meet his level, “we should climb trees more often.”

           I peer the few inches up at him, a strange expression on my face.  “We?”

           Simon meets my gaze suddenly, like he’s realized what he’s said.  “I, um… well, whatever,” he stammers.

           Is his face going red from flying?  Or from…

           I’m not used to looking up to meet his eyes, and he’s not usually framed by the pure white sky and the smell of pine and mountain air.

           I’m not used to him looking at me the way he is now.


I’m not used to being this close to Baz, or holding his gaze for this long, or letting down my guard with him, or seeing him framed by pine branches and treetops, or wanting to touch his hair…


There’s a fresh scar on his cheek from the goblin’s blade.


His hair is black again, and I still want to touch it.


His lips part slightly, and my heart stops entirely.


I don’t know what I’m doing.

But I lean in…


I’m just closing my eyes as the bough breaks beneath me and I fall through the branches.


He only falls about halfway down, but he hits just about every branch on the way.  I jump from my perch and dive after him, grabbing onto a limb where he stops his descent, groaning.

           “You alright?”

           “Perfect, thanks Snow.”

           We both climb the rest of the way down and head back towards the castle.  We don’t speak, and my head is still spinning with everything that’s just happened, not to mention what’s almost happened.

           “So,” I venture, “who’s turn is it again?”

           Baz shrugs.  “Tomorrow’s the first of April.”

           “I know.”

           We look at each other for a moment.

           “Fair game?” I suggest.

           He nods.  “Fair game.”

           We walk another few minutes in silence.

           “So, you’re not going to kill me for the nightmares then?”

           Baz shoots me a sideways glance, but he’s smiling. A real smile, not a sneer. Genuine.

           “Not today.”

(170203) Kihyun’s Fancafe updates
Monbebes what are you doing
I prepared this for Monbebes, for everyone who says and calls “Yoo Goblin, Yoo Goblin.” Great~ Do not laugh at me, please
스물아홉의 너는 계속 환하구나
하지만 니 옆에 나는 없구나
나의 생은 결국 불멸을 끝냈구나
내 죽음 뒤에 그 시간의 뒤에 앉아 있는 너는
내가 사라진 너의 생은
나를 잊고 완벽히 완성되었구나
(T/N: Kihyun is reciting lines from the k-drama Goblin)
I did not go out. I told you not to laugh but it looks like all of you are laughing???

translated by fymonsta-x ϟ take out with full credit.

Not your Queen (Thorin Oakenshield x reader)

Originally posted by thesedwarvesarekilinme

You shifted in your sleep, a feeling of uneasyness all around your body.

Since you had started your journey, you had been attacked by trolls, orcs and stone giants, not to mention the brief stay at Rivendell, which compensated all the dangers. Being a hobbit, the cozyness of the place was everything but hostile, a thought you only shared with Bilbo, your brother.

-Everyone! Wake up!-Thorin’s voice boomed inside the cave.

You were shaken from your thoughts as you noticed how the floor began to crumble to finally open, leaving you, your brother and the Company in a freefall.

After what seemed like forever, you finally landed, on top of your brother, with a grunt.

Hoards of goblins came toward you, screeching and ready to attack.

They started to pull everyone out and sending them to who knows where.

You pulled out your sword, but it was easily stolen by one of those creatures.

-Bilbo!Where are you?-You shouted, getting no answer.

Someone tapped your shoulder and you turned around, ready to scream. It was Nori.

He made a gesture with his head, signaling to where we had landed. As you looked, you saw Bilbo, scurrying away from the goblins.

-Wish I was him right now-You told Nori, as you were pushed from beside him, to beside Balin.

-Don’t worry lass, everything’s going to end well-He said with a reassuring smile, noticing your worried features.

-I really hope you are right-You answered, making a sad smile.

As you arrived to the main platform, there stayed the most horrendous creature you had ever seen: his deformed face with a smug smile, his big body that crushed smaller gobblins beneath him, not to mention his horrible voice when he had sung…Mahal’s Sake! What was that? That couldn’t be classified as music…

-Who has been so bold to enter MY kingdom?-Asked the Goblin King, eyeing us suspiciously.

-Dwarves, our malevonce-Answered one of the goblins.

After that, they disarmed us, and although I tried to hide from the creature, luck was never on my side, after all.

-And who is that?Come into the light, don’t be afraid.

You felt a hand over your own after that, pulling you back towards his owner. You looked up and saw Thorin’s blue orbs, pleading you not to go.

-I’ll be fine, don’t worry- You smiled, giving his hand a little shake.

As you stepped into the light, everyone started wolf-whistling.

-It’s a hobbit wench!-Said one of the goblins, smirking maliciously.

You looked around you, and horror made its way into your body, making you shake.

-I have to say, you are quite beautiful. You would make the perfect queen for me-Said the King, smiling.

You gasped at that.

How dared he? After what we had gone through, and now this…

-You know, lately I’ve been feeling lonely, and I could use company here-He continued smug.

All the goblins started laughing, wolf-whistling and speaking in foul language.

-STOP!-Thorin’s voice echoed in the kingdom, as he appeared- Nobody has the right to treat lady (Y/N) in such a vulgar manner.

-Look who we have here-Said the King, venom on his voice-Is the one and only Thorin Oakenshield, King under the mountain. But you don’t have a mountain, nor you are a king, which makes you…A nobody really-Said jokingly, earning laughs from the goblins.

-You know, scum-You started, really pissed-I’m fed up of people who think women are objects and property of someone. Guess what?I’m not-You continued, pointing an accusing finger.

After that, they prepared the torturing machines, only to be saved by Gandalf, again. When you had escaped the caves, with a lot of effort, you found Bilbo standing there, like nothing happened, after a good ranting courtesy of Thorin.

-You were really brave back there-Thorin commented, blushing.

-Oh, it was nothing, I don’t want to be his queen-You smiled mischievously-But maybe I want to be somebody else’s-You concluded, looking at him and smirking.

-And who might that be?

-I think I haven’t found him yet-You answered, brushing past him.

Then, he caught your wrist and spinned you around.

-Want to say that again?-He smiled innocently .

-Let me think of…-You were silenced by Thorin’s soft lips on your own.

-You know, I wanted to do that for a while now-He said, after he parted from you.

-I can’t say I hadn’t been looking forward it

-Be mine?-He asked, with puppy eyes.

-I’m yours, now and forever-You, smiled back.

Then, he kissed you again.