#I WAS HOLDING THE DOOR HANDLE TRYING TO STOP IT FROM SLAMMING IN THE WIND

[ourlittlebear]

Can my wrist just heal!!! I miss weightlifting!!!! And my wrist hurts ALL THE TIME

So yeah you know how a fall on your wrist (or having your wrist bent backwards when having an impact injury) is like, the cause of all bad wrist injuries but generally they go "oh ye that's a fracture" or "oh ye that's a bad sprain"

Well how about tearing a fucking ligament? A tfcc tear? It's a lil legit triangle of ligaments and cartilage in your wrist that helps stabilise the ulnar side of your wrist. I now can't hold plates. I can't rotate my wrist so my palm is facing upwards. Its a struggle to turn door handles, hold my phone, or hold anything that needs the support of my little finger and the outer side of my palm. And it is THOROUGHLY DUMB AND I DON'T LIKE IT

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run Part 1

The Barn

mdni

cw: violent behavior, suggestive themes, i will get better at this i swear

It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal, massive Tibetan Mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how terrible it’s coming down you would have felt terrible.

But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.

You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.

But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and you're flying out of your bed.

Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.

You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.

The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your herd. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank open the double doors

Locked.

Your barn is never locked.

From the inside.

“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.

“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they hold strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.

You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.

“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.

You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.

The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.

Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.

You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.

“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.

He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.

Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.

Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth. Your gasp is muffled at the pressure of cold steel at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.

“Not. A. Sound.” A gruff voice barks in your ear, and your blood runs cold.

“Lock the doors back.” The man orders, and a sinking feeling overcomes you when you hear a new set of footsteps. You stumble as you’re jerked back, Dixon barking as you start to thrash, kicking your feet, but the grip around you tightens.

“Fuckin- Knock it off!” He growls, pressing what you can only guess is your carving knife painfully against your throat and Grimes lets out a guttural sounding bark before lunging, only to yelp when a foot shoves him back, and you thrash harder, attempting to nip at this man’s hand.

“Stop you little fuckin-SHIT!” He bellows as your teeth sink into his palm, not releasing until you taste his blood splash over your teeth, and then you’re on the ground.

“Little bitch!”

“Don’t touch my fucking animals.” You spit, turning to stare up at the intruder, just to be met with a ski mask and cold eyes. You can’t help but freeze, the carving knife glinting in the low light of the barn.

He’s quick, and you try to stumble to your feet, but you're once more in his grasp. You go for a punch, but he catches your wrist easily, pinning your arm behind your back with one hand and yanking your forward with the other, pinning you against him, and the knife is at your throat again.

“Let’s try this again.” He says between clenched teeth, tightening his grip till you whimper.

“Ghost. Lighten up.” A voice pipes up, raspy and stern with a commanding tone. The masked man, Ghost, rolls his eyes, but loosens the hold he has on your wrist.

“Who else lives here?” He questions, and it feels as though a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you.

“No one…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut when his grip tightens once more. “Don’t bullshit us. Who else lives on this land with you?!” He’s in your face, making you open your eyes, tears blurring your vision.

“It’s just me I swear!” You sob, feeling the tip of the knife digging into your skin. “I swear to god it’s just me, you can go check the house-“

The pressure of the knife is gone, and the shock of your bare knees hitting the barn floors barely phases you as Dixon and Grimes dart to your side, whining softly as they nudge your hands with their heads.

“Think she’s telling the truth?” A new voice speaks up, a thick Scottish accent ringing in your ears as you try to put distance between you and the four, you are finally able to count, men standing in the middle of your barn.

“Explains the massive mutts.” Ghost grunts, glancing at the four mastiffs, who you push behind you, shielding them, trying not to let your fear show more than it already has.

“They aren’t mutts.” You hiss, Judy nuzzling her giant head into your back as you shuffle them back, away from these men.

You hold your head high, but your lip can’t help but tremble when all their eyes turn to you.

“You sure there’s no one else in that great big house?” The older man with scruffy facial hair asks with a tilt of his head, and a spark of agitation flares in your chest. Why did they want to know so badly? if they were going to…

If they were going to kill you, surely they would have done it by now, right?

“I swear on my life.” You plead, voice cracking. You’re horrified when you realize your nightgown has been soaked through this whole time, noticing the way the one with the mohawk, the Scot, keeps eyeing your bosom. You look away, cheeks burning as fresh tears prick your eyes.

“Soap, Gaz. You two go check the house. Report back to me, I want a moment with her.” The unnamed man ordered.

Mohawk and a dark skinned man nodded, heading out of the barn. Ghost passes one of them the carving knife, and your fist curl in your lap.

“What do I do Price?” Ghost asks, and the man, Price, waves a hand, eyes trained on you. “Search the surrounding area, look for anyone hiding on the property.”

“Understood.”

And then you were alone. The barn has settled, most of your animals having made their way to the farthest wall behind you. He approaches you slowly, cautiously eyeing Dixon who raises up, baring his teeth, but you click your tongue, and he steps back immediately, sitting at your side like a statue as the others guard the flock.

You feel a puff of air breath against your head, and you can’t help the wet laugh that bubbles out when you realize Sebastian is standing guard over you.

“Seems you’ve got yourself quite the protection.”

He muses, eyes bouncing between the animals.

“They were abandoned when I found this place.” You confess, a slight tremble to your voice as you watch Price crouch in front of you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over your form and you wrap your arms around your middle.

“If my men are walking into a trap, whoever is there will be killed.” He says simply, tone almost bored and you feel your face pale.

“They’re not! This is my land! Mine!” You insist, frustrated tears falling freely as you flex your fingers, muscles tense.

“Tiny little bird like you, all by herself?” Ghost scoffs as he returns, and you feel your ears burn.

“What did you find?” Price asks him over his shoulders.

“Can hardly see shit in this rain but I found no one. There’s a truck around back but the engine seems shot.” He shrugs, eyes peering at you through that ski mask and you avert your gaze.

The doors open against, the other two rushing in, soaked to the bone.

“The house is clear sir. Only one room looks lived in, two guest rooms down the hall on the upper level and a small library on the ground level. Gaz found a shotgun by the front door.” The Scot, Soap, you gather, reports back to Price.

“I told you. It’s just me out here.” You mutter, and this time Ghost is crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“You hiding from something little bird?” He asks, cocking his head to the side

“You’re the ones breaking into my barn and scaring my animals!” You snap, trying to get out of his grip, but he only holds tighter.

“You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” You see his eyes crinkle, and you're shocked this man even knows how to smile under that mask.

He releases you, standing up and stepping back to stand with the other three men, who still loom over you. You feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter house, and you bury one of your hands in Dixon’s thick fur to ground yourself.

“Please-“ You start, voice shaking, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.

“I don’t have much, there’s maybe three thousand dollars in the safe in my closet. I’ll give you the code just…” Your voice trails off, a sob slipping past your lips and Dixon whines, low and sad as he places his giant head in your lap.

“Please don’t hurt us. D-don’t hurt my animals- I won’t even call the cops, it would take the nearest deputy three hours to even reach my house.” You beg, exhaustion and nerves taking over as your shoulders slump, trembling with your quiet sobs.

You see Price’s boots approach you, and he tilts your chin up, and you flinch when he brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Stop all these tears pretty. We don’t want to hurt you or your little farm.” He coos down at you. Confusion swirls in your head, making you dizzy as another sob can’t help but slip out, Price cupping your cheeks, shushing you softly as he wipes your cheeks.

“I don’t understand…” You whisper, searching this strange, terrifying man’s face for any sign of deceit, but he just grins at you.

“You told us the truth. Very good.” It sounds almost like praise the way he whispers it to you, and you whimper, shame filling your stomach. You look away from him, taking a shuddering breath as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Let’s get you back inside hm? Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tsks, and before you can argue, you’re being lifted into his arms, tucked against his chest. You try to struggle, but the adrenaline has worn off, confusion left in its wake as these strange men usher the herd into their correct pens, Soap barley escaping one of the Roosters pecking at him in defiance, before pausing.

“I don’t think I want to mess with this guy.” Gaz mutters, the three of them staring at Sebastian, who stares back, as though daring them to try and corral him.

“He.. He’ll go back in his stall once it’s quiet… You scared them…” You mutter, tired as you give in, resting your head against the strong chest you’re pressed against, and you feel Price’s grip tighten.

“You’re freezing sweetheart, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” He murmers, and your heart skips.

“I can do that myself.” You hiss, staring up at him with narrowed eyes, despite the fact you can feel your cheeks burning.

He just laughs.

[b00kdiary]

Stay With Me | Rhysand

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord.

‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image thoughts, blood and gore, and smut (Hint: Wing play)

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART TWO

PART THREE

I couldn't stop pacing.

That's what I did when I was nervous, and on edge- I paced. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again, until I wore through the carpet and my entire body was thrumming with dread.

It had been four hours.

Four hours since Rhysand left to track those Hybern soldiers through the forest, hoping to be led back to their camp. For several weeks we've been dealing with Hybern forces infiltrating our land and yet we had no idea what they were planning.

It was the unknown that had made Rhysand go out tonight.

I had insisted I come, to help, to watch his back, something- but with the heavy snow and rain, he had been adamant that it would be easier to fly alone. Though I knew it was an excuse to keep me here, safe, and unharmed, while he was out there risking his life.

And now he was missing.

Four hours of silence and I was starting to feel violently sick with worry. I contemplated leaving the cabin, trekking on foot through the forest in search of him, but with the weather so furious and the fact he had been flying not walking, I knew it would be futile.

And Rhysand would kill me if he knew I had gone after him, especially when he had specifically instructed me to stay here.

"Stupid, arrogant High Lord," I cursed under my breath and despite the log fire crackling before me and the layers I wore, I still shivered from the brutal cut of the cold wind. My heart seized at the thought of Rhys out there in the brunt of it.

Hybern soldiers were ruthless and their hatred of the Night Court, of Rhysand was known. They could do anything to him; ash arrows, Faebane, dark magic, and Mother only knows what other weapons they have we don't know about.

"If he thinks I'm going to sit here like some kind of damsel," I scowl, my hands shaking as I yank on my discarded sword belt and daggers, "Then he is a bigger idiot than I thought possible."

I try and let my anger bubble over and overtake my fear as I make my way toward the heavy wood door, the sound of the whistling wind and perilous skies getting louder the closer I get to it. I'm trembling as I grip the handle, yanking it open with effort, the hinges stiff with the cold.

I stumble back a step at the sight of a tall male slumped against the door pane- blood pooled around his feet, stark against the white snow.

"Rhysand!"

All thoughts eddy from my head at the sight of him- his skin pale and dull, his midnight hair in disarray, his armour torn and filthy, and an agonised grimace lining his lips. A groan slips from him when my hands come to his chest, and my stomach turns at the warm blood that coats my palms.

"Cauldron, Rhys," I gasp, my throat closing as I stumble back into the cabin, his body weight half-leaning on me and every step he takes is slow and staggered, his face twisting as I guided him back with me. "What happened?"

"Hybern soldiers are assholes," Rhys grits out, a rough laugh slipping past his lips, but the sweet sound soon melts into a pained hiss when I turn so I can slam the door shut behind us- and I see why he's bleeding so goddamn much.

"Rhy- Rhys," I stutter, my fingers tightening into his suit, his muscles rippling under my touch, every breath he takes deeper and faster than the last. "The arrows, holy shit, there's so many-"

Five.

He had five arrows embedded into his back and wings.

"Really? I didn't notice," He grins, his heavy head lifting and those violet eyes meeting mine- though upon seeing the ire and worry on my face, that grin falters, "Hey, c'mon don't look at me like that, I'm alright-"

He sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes screwing shut when I begin to move back toward the sofa and I try not to let my body lock up when his hands fall to my waist and hips, long, ringed fingers digging into my flesh for leverage.

"Huh, I knew you wouldn't listen to me," He scoffs out a laugh, half-amused, half-breathless and my face burns with heat when he runs his hands idly down my sides, grazing pointedly over my sword belt and daggers. "You know it's an offence to disobey your High Lord, right?"

"Well since you're wounded and I'm the only one here to help," I grit out sardonically, ignoring how close his face is to mine as I guide his front down onto the sofa, careful not to touch his wings as I move behind him, "I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive me."

I frown at the amount of blood seeping out from his wounds, and I can feel how rigid his body is under my palms- he always was good at hiding his true emotions, masking his pain with an arrogant smile, or teasing words.

My breathing is shallow as I climb onto the sofa behind him, my soft thighs brushing his strong ones and my heart racing as I settle on my knees. His wings are limp on either side of him, one drooping down to the floor and the other sprawled over the cushions.

"You need to rip them out, darling," Rhys muses gently from under me and as if sensing my worry, his voice has lost all sense of humour. "No need to be gentle, I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"We both know you're a big Illyrian baby, Rhys," I tease, though my voice is strained and when he shifts his head sideways, looking over his wide shoulders at me, I see the small smile tilting his lips too.

I swallow the lump in my throat, shifting forward and placing a trembling hand on his back. To the arrow embedded at the junction of his wing and spine.

His hand slips back and curls around my thigh, fingers sprawling around the flesh and digging in as if he were bracing himself. The touch is distracting but I focus on my fingers wrapping around the arrow, a few inches from the entry point- and I hate how Rhysand's body flinches at the soft touch.

"Come on, darling," Rhysand sighs, his grip tightening around my thigh as I release a long breath, "Amren's going to kill me if I get any more blood on these cushions-"

I rip it out mid-sentence- and Rhysand's whole body jolts as I tear the arrow free from his flesh, a grunt of pain muffling into the leather beneath him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whimper, my hand clamping down and applying pressure on the wound, the arrow discarded on the floor beside us. Rhysand trembles under me, his jaw locked so tight I can hear his teeth gritting together, "Shit Rhys, I'm sorry."

"It's- it's okay, it's okay," He pants, and I watch his face from the side, seeing him get paler and paler. He squeezes against my thigh, once, twice, and his eyes blink open, those violet eyes dark. "Keep going darling, you're doing so good, keep-keep going for me."

I feel the familiar burn of tears in my eyes as I lean forward, my fingers slippery with blood and gore as I curl my hold around the second arrow, this one just barely stuck near the very bottom of the left wing.

Ash arrows were notoriously dangerous, known for splintering within the flesh, one wrong move and Rhys would have pieces of the wood stuck in his wings and those would be near impossible for me to remove on my own.

I grit my teeth and pull, swift and brazen, not giving him or me a second to think about it. Again, Rhysand grunts, body viscerally jumping but he seems to bear the pain better the second time, his thighs clenching around mine for support.

"Forget what I said, I was wrong," I clear my throat, trying to force some ease and comfort into my tone as I run my hand up the muscles of Rhysand's back and I feel relief when he sighs, his body melting into my touch. "You're not a big Illyrian baby, you're a tough, strong male."

"What finally convinced you? The very manly way my body is shaking right now?" He released a long exhale, his mouth tugging into a smile and I can't help but laugh when his eyes glance back to meet mine. "Or the groans that keep slipping out no matter how hard I try to contain them?"

I laugh softly, my blood-stained hands running across the planes of Rhysand’s shoulders and back, the pad of my thumbs and forefingers circling around the stiff muscles, trying to get him to relax. He sighs, and his hand pulls against my thigh coaxing me higher up his body, closer than before.

"Nothing wrong with being vocal, Rhys, I would have thought five hundred years of existence would have taught you that," I run my finger across the membrane of his wing, feeling the soft, leathery texture as I move to the next arrow. "Females love to hear how you feel."

"Cruel, wicked thing," Rhysand mumbled, his breath hitching at the tender touch I grazed over his wings, and it was a very different sound to before. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having me at your mercy."

I wrap my hand around the arrow stuck in the middle of his wing and his body tenses- knowing what was waiting. I frown, hating that he is in pain and unconsciously, my left hand moves to his other wing, and he gasps, eyes widening when I run the pad of my thumb over the talon at the tip- a spot I knew was sensitive.

I tear the arrow out of the right wing with one hand, while my other rakes down the curve of his left wing, my nails scratching softly against the tender flesh there. Rhysand groans, louder this time, and it's a sound that I feel through my body.

"Are you- are you trying to make it feel better, darling?" He asks quietly, his breaths loud in the silent room and his hand at my thigh caressing, his thumb swiping soothingly back and forth.

"Yes," I reply, equally as soft, and my heart is racing as I edge closer, my core and ass settling over one of his burning hot thighs. "Is it working?"

"Yes," He swallows, an audible sound and I see his Adam's apple bobble, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as I reach for the fourth arrow. "Yes, it is, don't- don't stop." There's a slight tremor in his voice, a neediness that makes my head spin.

His body vibrates under me, but for a completely different reason now and it seems the more my idle hands wander curiously over the dancing veins and soft membranes of his wings, the less control he has over himself.

"Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?" My voice is hoarse, and I ignore the sweat coating my skin and heat burning through me as I grab around the arrow, my shoulders bracing for the strength needed for this pull.

"Why are you and Cassian talking about the most sensitive parts of a male's wings?" He grits out, his thigh muscle tensing, and I feel it brush against my centre- wet and aching with need. A smile tugs at my lips at the darkness in his tone, that smile broadening when his wing twitches violently against my fingers.

"He also said that males can like having their wings touched during sex and that a brush against the right spot can make you climax, is that true?" His nails dig into my thigh at my whispered words, a moan slipping past his lips when I grip around the talon with a firm hold.

This time when I rip the arrow free, he doesn't feel the pain- too consumed and dizzy with pleasure.

"You're killing me, Y/N," Rhys chuckles, his body shaking with the laugh, a sound that travels through the air and over my skin like a phantom touch. I circle the heel of my palms into his shoulder blades, massaging out the tension and Rhys moans appreciatively, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest.

"Only one left, Rhys," I say encouragingly, and he mutters incoherently in agreement as I lean forward, the last arrow embedded in his upper back- much deeper than the rest. I frown, rising onto my knees, already missing the strength and heat of his thigh between my legs. "This one's gone all the way through, I'm going to have to dig it out the other side."

"Just when I thought this couldn't get any more fun," Rhys jeers, his hand grazing along my thigh as I sit up as if needing my touch as reassurance.

My eyes narrow at his remark and suddenly the blood and the arrows and his pained face hold no bearing with me, the sympathy vanishes- replaced by the anger that had me ready to march out into a storm to look for him.

"That's what happens when you go chasing the enemy with no backup," I mutter stiffly, and this time when I grab the arrow, I don't give Rhys any satisfaction or comfort- no, I break the arrow in two with an easy snap of the wrist, dropping the fragmented piece to the floor with a clink.

He winces, and when I hover above him, his head turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.

"I take it you're still upset with me then, darling," Rhys muses and the ting of humour in his words makes me scowl, my touch no longer soft or soothing, my body no longer enjoying the hard, perfect feel of him.

“Turn around,” I order, dismissing him as I rise from him and onto my feet. His hand reaches for me, trying to grab me, a yearning in his touch, but I move away from him stiffly. “I need to dig out the arrow from the front.”

He purses his lips at my cold words, and I almost feel bad for him when he hisses in pain, his muscular, lean body so frail as he rolls onto his back, his sore wings moving slow and deliberately, barely able to lift higher than his shoulders before sagging back down again.

“Y/N,” Rhys sighs, a deep frown tugging at his lips as he drops his head against the armrest. I stare at him in silence, seeing him splayed out before me, chest rising and falling in harsh waves and those violet constellations unwavering upon me.

"You could have been killed, Rhysand," I grit out, and I hate the tears I feel prickling my eyes as I stare at him, at the blood coating my hands, and the sofa and the floor, the wound puncturing through his left pectoral. "If you don't trust me to have your back-"

"Don't say that, never say that" He rises faster than I can protest, and my hands shoot up to stop him, but he doesn't relent, his face harsh with discomfort but his eyes burn with determination as he sits up. "I trust you more than anyone, more than myself, don't ever think that Y/N."

"Alright, okay Rhys," I sigh, shaking my head and my hands are weak as I place them on his solid shoulders, trying to guide him to lay back down. His eyes never once leave mine and I can see the hurt in them- that I would even think such a thing. "I'm sorry, just lay down, you're still hurt."

His face tightens severely, and he looks so at odds with the male known for his easy smiles and bright stary eyes- but he obliges me as I guide him back down. His hands curve up my thighs and rest on my hips, and he doesn’t speak as he yanks me down, dragging me so that I straddle his waist.

“Rhys-“ I suck in a sharp breath when he settles me, forcing my weight to sit atop him, my thighs clamped around his hips, my core settled just under his belly button and his calloused hands kneading the flesh at my sides.

"I told you to stay here because I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," He whispers, eyes unbearably soft, and his touch igniting something hot in me, "If they did something to you if you got hurt... I don't know what I would do, Y/N."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest as I bring my hands forward to the front of his leathers, my fingers stumbling as I unbuckle the belts and slip off the buttons one by one, revealing the acres of tan skin and the dark whorls painted across his chest.

I gnaw on my cheek as I tug back the shirt, Rhysand silently watching every action, every breath I take, and my face falls at the wound leaking blood above his left pectoral, the arrowhead peeking through the gore.

“And what if something worse than this happened to you?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion and when my eyes meet Rhysand’s again, his face tightens at the tears in my eyes, “What do you think I would do? How would I be able to live with it?"

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhysand swallows thickly and I watch as he grits his teeth, his body pulsing when I run my fingers over the wound, gauging how deep I have to feel, how best to remove the arrow in one piece.

“I need to dig it out with my fingers to get it to the surface first,” I clear my throat, ignoring the thick prolonged silence and taut tension between us, “It’s going to hurt, badly.”

“I know,” He locks his jaw, the strong angle sharp and I see the grim anticipation on his face when I move my index finger and thumb into position over the exit point. But without speaking, I move my body, lower, until my core settles over the front of his breeches- over his long, hard length.

“Y/N, you don’t have to-“ His breath hitches at the contact, his violet eyes widening and latching onto mine in surprise.

“I want to,” I whisper, need spreading through me at the feel of him under me, the smell of his arousal and mine wafting through the air, making me dizzy. “I’m trying to make it feel better, remember?”

I roll my hips, ever so slightly, and the electricity that shocks through my clit at the contact makes me gasp. Rhysand grunts, a low, heady sound, and the way he lifts his hips up to dig his cock into me is almost desperate.

“Cauldron,” He curses as I dig my fingers into his wound, the metal sharp and hot against my fingertips as I try and get leverage around it. His face twists but when I rock my hips again, dragging down his length, his pain dissolves into something carnal. “Cauldron, Y/N-“

“There we go,” I whisper, my fingers gripping around the arrowhead firmly, twisting it a few inches higher so that it protrudes out of his chest. I bite my lip to contain any sounds as I rut against him, my underwear and trousers soaked through, seeping into Rhysand’s slacks, making it easier to rub over his twitching length. “I’ve got it!”

He moans- the most erotic, lewd sound rumbles from him, low and loud, echoing through the room. I pant as he runs his hands over my body, over my thighs and hips and waist, kneading my stomach and love handles, before settling over my ass.

His nails carve crescent moons into the flesh as he palms me, the control he was so used to wielding in the bedroom not dwindling as he guided me back and forth faster and harder against him.

"This is the best pain I've ever felt, darling," Rhysand purrs, his voice like melted chocolate against my senses and the fire burning between my legs fans at his words. I lean forward, my breasts brushing his chest and my stomach settling against his- and I run my free hand over his sprawled wings.

"I'm going to pull it out now, yeah?" I mumble against his cheek, and I know his head is spinning, the pain and pleasure so at odds, so damning that his canines flash at me, his fingers bruising against my ass and his hips jolting up violently to meet mine.

“Do it, daring,” He commands, the role of the High Lord imprinted into him no matter the situation and almost as if it were programmed in me to obey, I kiss his cheek tenderly- and yank the arrowhead free in one go. “Shit, shit-“

I drag my centre over the tip of his cock, rolling my hips in fast, sharp strokes and Rhysand crumbles at the action- his eyes screw shut, his body stills like stone, and the filthiest, rawest cry tears from his lips, louder and fragmented when I rub at the tip of his talon with my palm.

I whimper at the feel of every hard inch of him cemented against me, the warmth of his hot seed leaking out and soaking his slacks, mixing our arousals, getting messier the more I rub against him.

“Y/N,” He moans my name into the crook of my neck, his teeth scraping against my pule point and his hands curling around my ass, forcing my hips to stop. Instead, he clamps my body flush to his, my tits pressed to his chest, my face buried in his soft hair, and I feel his cock pulsing and tremoring hard against me as he rides out his orgasm.

I feel Rhysand laugh roughly against my neck, the sound of his ragged breathing and the erratic rise and fall of his muscular chest against me making me sigh. His hands don’t loosen, in fact, they get tighter, guiding me until I’m laying flat, his arms wrapping over me and keeping me to his chest.

He was holding me like he didn’t want to let go.

There’s a long silence as I lay with him, our bodies melting together and his touch unrelenting upon me, holding onto my flesh for dear life, feeling me against him and sighing at the comfort. His breathing starts to deepen, turning heavy and I blink, shifting to move my weight off him.

“Don’t,” He grumbles, his arms drawing me back to his chest, a deep groan escaping him as he shifts so that my body slips between the gap of the sofa and his side. His eyes flutter closed again, and I watch his face ease into serenity as I lay my cheek against his shoulder.

“Stay with me.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico

A/N:

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

Should I make a part two??? part two here

[queenbees21]

Day one — ʀᴇᴅ: ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ ᴅᴇᴋᴜ; ᴍʏ oɹǝɥ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴀ

Here’s the list prompts <3 ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ : ❤︎ , ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ : ★?

Villain Deku chooses! ➢ ★

⚠️Warning! : Grammar errors, Not proofread, Yandere deku, Ooc Deku, pervy! + possessive Deku, kidnapping - slight dark content - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/n : these little prompts might be a little short, but I’ll try to make them last longer! 🙇‍♀️

[February 12, 2023 __ 11:45 PM ]

“Alright, I heading out now!” You called out to your co-worker. They waves their hand goodbye with a “Safe travels,” as they processed to clean the countertops of the bar.

You head out the door of the club; swinging it open and walked down the hall while tracking your bus. As you waited for its arrival, you hadn’t noticed two pairs of emerald orbs watching you.

[February 12, 2023 __ 11:56 PM ]

You, softy, closed your door to your apartment complex while shrugging off your coat. You place it in the coat rack and walk to your dark kitchen. Throwing your keys on the island and switching on the light, although; as you did, you didn’t notice the company that was making it—himself comfortable in your chair. “Welcome home precious girl~”

You shudder in fear but kept your brave face on, “what are you doing here.” You mostly stated and then asked a general question…

He chuckled playfully but it sounded dark from afar, he place his foot down for he had it across his leg, stood up; walking towards you. You suddenly felt small compared to him and, as always he wasn’t giving you any personal space; whatsoever.

He gazes down at you with an unreadable expression. He just stood close doing nothing, no sudden movements were made. You gasped in surprise as he swiftly pulls you close to him and lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder.

You felt your face heating up and tried to kick your way out of his arms. He struggles to handle you, as you kicked and tried to punch your way out of his grasp, although; that soon stopped when you suddenly felt a smack against your thigh.

Now you are pissed off and at the same time flushed. You curse Deku out in your native language and still processed to smack and kick him in his back, and again it did nothing to prevent him from holding you still.

You suddenly felt the fresh breeze of the wind of the night and heard the slam of a door, ‘He’s kidnapping me!!’

Deku again opens another door and throws you in the passenger seat of a car, as he struggles to put on your seatbelt.“Help Me! he-mph!!” He covers your mouth and swiftly closes the door preventing you from escaping. Before he left, he turned on the cars AC. As you try to open it, it only made a taping sound…. ‘Child lock’.

He somehow managed to get the door to close and looks towards your… co-worker! at the bar!! They both talked for a little while, you only heard mumbling. Their noises drifted off, you heard nothing... Deku paid the said co-worker and shooed them away.

….. Then realization came crashing down…Your co-worker… It’s no wonder now, how Deku found out where you lived; it’s simple really. Your so-called “loyal” co-worker, rat you out and yet in the end he’ll be the one to get punished...

Deku hates tattletales…

But before you can think of anymore about this hectic situation. You suddenly felt dizzy, tired, and can feel an incoming headache arrive- wait.…

The.. air… AC…

Dame it…

[February 13, 2023 __ 1:30 PM ]

Red

Red is… I see red…

All I see is.. red

But revenge is best served… cold

“ Aw Baby girl no need to worry about me~ it’s just a little paint~” he once said

___

You wake up with chills running down your spine. You panted in fear, quickly you stood up from the bed. Wait? bed? You hastily looked around; trying to remember where you were.

Air..

Of course, Deku must have put chloroform in the AC! That’s dame bastard! dame him and his clever schemes! You wanted to bang your head for not thinking straight or even way around that situation.

As you were contemplating with yourself, you hadn’t noticed a certain presence; watching think to yourself. He smirks, but how can he not? When he has a beautiful angel in his bed.

“Good morning Precious~ or should I say afternoon instead,”

Oh my goodness, No.

“Stopping calling me that! And no it’s not a good morning or afternoon or whatever is it!” You slipped your legs off the comfort of the warm bed and met the cool air, breezing your exposed legs.

“It’s afternoon baby,”

“Whatever!” You huffed, crossing your arms and turning your head to the side. As you did Deku just gazes at the soft skin of your neck, and without thinking he leans towards your neck peppering kisses down your neck. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden contact, feeling your eyes get slightly droopy and you breathed out a shaky sigh.

You tried your best, not to let any sort of noises that might make him feel ‘accomplished’. Well rather it was noise or whatever, if he was able to get you to squirm a little then he’s done his job right.

Deku hums against your neck as he pulls you close to his body. He slowly but surely, wrapped his arms around your waist; bringing you close and sitting on his lap.

He felt warm against you. You slowly wrap your arms around his muscular frame. Or at least tried to, for the palm of your hands reaches up to his spin; trying hard not to fall; although, Deku has  prevented that from happening.

He held you with caution, and for a spilt second, it almost felt like he cared but, it was only for a mere moment.

For some reason, in the back of your head; you knew this was wrong. You knew you had to stop but you couldn’t, you knew you had to let go, although; he didn’t let you. You knew and yet neither one of you, not even for a mere moment, let go of one other.

There is no guarantee that you might one day, up run and leave Deku again, like last time. From now on he’ll make sure you never leave. He’ll make you, that you only look at him, seek Him, love him, and no one else. He’ll make sure of it.

As you both pull away for a breath, you panting for air. Deku places his forehead against yours as he rubs his nose with your own. He smirks at your flushed features, and he quickly kisses you once more but pulls away just quickly before he loses it again.

Red is what he sees in both your futures, although; it won’t be red of the drips of blood; within the palm of his hands, the blood of his enemies.

No, it’ll be the red roses in the garden, with you dressed in white. With the red rose on the crown of your hair. Ready to be wed, and red petals placed everywhere on the bed only. Yes. Thats the red he’ll be looking forward to.

A/n: Sorry if it’s short! And weird 💀 but I thought this was cute (kinda) and it’s been on my mind for a while, and I couldn’t figure out how to end this without leaving it in a awkward position… But with that being said,

[rs-hawk]

Ok, i saw the god husband and disabled husband head cannon thingy you wrote and immediately had this idea. God husband patiently holding hubby's hands as they try and get him to walk, like full on comforting words, gentle massages to disabled hubby's legs after physical therapy, disabled hubby crying into god daddys chest, the whole shebang. Fluffy angst babe, FLUFFY ANGST

This is so cute!

Part One

You know you’ll never be able to walk unassisted again. At least, not for long periods of time. It doesn’t matter how hard you work because some things are just unable to be changed. You have to acknowledge how you have to give up things you’d taken for granted. Hiking. Camping. Soccer and tennis on the weekends. Hell, even just carrying two armloads full of groceries up the stairs.

You try not to let it bother you too much, and despite growing up to realize how toxic your parents and the Patriarchy are, you can still hear their voices in the back of your head.

You’ll never be a real man.

Real men don’t play the victim.

Suck it up like everyone else.

A real man wouldn’t let this stop him.

You have to swallow it down as much as you can because you don’t want your Husband to know how much it hurts you. You still struggle with saying His name in His native tongue (learning a whole new language is hard after all), so you’ve taken to calling Him 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ or “Land”. Every time you call Him this, He grins. Green, cool lips spreading across His face as He looks over at you. The warmth and love in His eyes makes you flush slightly, but that only makes you find excuses to say His name.

He starts insisting that you start physical therapy. You cringe at the idea. You know it’s wrong. You know it’s not true… but you can’t help but feel like that’s admitting weakness to strangers. Surely you can handle this on your own, right? 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ frowns each time you tell Him you don’t want to, or come up with an excuse to get out of it. Eventually you relent after noticing His leaves and flowers wilting. He immediately brightens up when you say you’ll go.

Of course He has to wait at home, but when you get back, He starts asking what exercises you should do at home. Is there anything He can help with? He’s so proud of you for taking this step. From then on you both have a routine of Him rubbing your legs and lower back before and after physical therapy. He also stops holding you in His lap so much (despite Him clearly still wanting to) because He understands you still want your independence.

Once you can start to walk somewhat, He holds your hands, letting you take small steps across your living room. He’s in full bloom, literally beaming with pride as you make it across the room for the first time. You chuckle and tell Him how cute He looks like that. You think you notice a darker green tint to His face. Is He blushing?

You think you’re making great progress, until you take a turn. Suddenly even standing makes you feel weak and your knees give out. Your doctor explains that this happens sometimes, but you could still start to improve again. It just depends.

That night you don’t even greet 𐓀𐓘͘𐓻͘𐓘͘ when you get home. He’s waiting for you excitedly, flowers tilting towards you as if you are His sun, but you brush it off, rolling past Him. You slam the bedroom door, pulling yourself into bed. You choke back a sob, but when He comes in and asks how you’re doing, you can’t hold it back anymore.

Fat tears roll down your face as you hiccup out that choked sob. His face is unreadable, and after a moment He wipes it off completely. He always does that when He’s upset. He curls up to you on the bed, His long legs hanging over the edge even as He curls around you, holding you to His chest. He presses the side of His head to the top of your head.

“Time and progress is such a human concept,” He whispers, sounding like the wind blowing through the trees. “Nothing is set in stone, even if it’s the only outcome anyone can see. Everything can be changed, but even if it’s beyond your means, it doesn’t mean that you have failed. You are more than just your present. You are your past and future as well. This moment isn’t the only one that exists. You live every moment at every point in your life. Your highest and lowest exist all at once.”

You sniffle, furrowing your brow. “What does that even mean?”

He still refuses to put on a face, but you can still tell that He’s looking at you when he cups your cheek. “You might feel like this is the lowest point for you, but I still see your best moments, even those yet to come.”

You wipe your face, as if trying to hide your tears. “Yet to come?”

Now is when He makes a face again, smiling softly as He brings those cool, green lips to yours. “Your happiest moment is yet to come. This is not your ending. It is a new beginning.”

[xxkingrayxx]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖚𝖘

Eddie was never there. Not since the upside down. He sat in his bed, staring at a wall for months. Then when he got up, he couldn't shower, couldn't eat.

"Eddie, I love you, im worried!", You sobbed, hugging yourself at the edge of the bed. You had walked in on him changing, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw his collarbones, his ribs you could count, his hips. He stared at you blankly, and put a shirt on. He never answered you.

Wayne and you worked your asses off trying to find the best specialists to help him, telling them he got into a traumatic car crash. They gave you strange, knowing looks, but you slipped enough money to keep their mouths shut. Slowly, very slowly, he got better.

He smiled more. Started going to Hellfire again. Got out of bed and showered daily. It was as if you could see the color seeping back into him. He was your Eddie again.

A few months after his therapy finished and he was cleared overall, they opened the trailer park back up. Eddie insisted on going to see the site of his old trailer, the ruins still standing. Without warning, he briskly walked up, slamming the door open with a leather clad arm. His hair blew in the harsh wind as he stepped inside, disappearing into the trailer before you followed. He stood in the living room, staring at the gaping hole where the gate used to be. El had gone with Steve to close it, but the gnarled metal of the floor stayed. He was deadly silent. "Eddie?", you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. "Eddie!", you say, choking slightly on tears before you curl into yourself on the floor. Memorys flashed behind your eyelids, him staring at the wall, staring at his dinner plate, his ribs, waking up from night terrors, tears running down to his chest over his scars. Him crying when he saw himself in the mirror, him crying when he saw you. You were there too. You were covered in matching scars. You couldn't handle him not being him again.

Sobs wrack your body, shaking roughly on the floor of the trailer. "Baby! Baby im here!", Eddie says, his hands on your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. He smooths your hair, holding you as you shake and soak the front of his shirt in your tears. "Its ok baby. Im not leaving you. Never again."

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss I austin!elvis x oc (part 1)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana's most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he's just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she's on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 3477

warnings/notes: violence, blood, fighting

 Chapter 1

 “Where are you goin’?!” my daddy yelled after me as I moved with my bag and my sweater towards the front door. I didn't have time to hear my father's outraged words about my disobedience because I was already running late to meet up with my friend.  He would have rather that I had always remained indoors and isolated from the outside world. He would claim that it is for my security. I believe he is attempting to use me to protect what he long since lost.

              Even though he was just behind me, I yelled out, “With my friends! The Louisiana Hayride is still in town and I wanna go.”

              “You didn’t permission to no where, little girl! You know how I feel about you going out alone!”

              “I am 17 years old, Daddy! You can’t keep sending one of your men to babysit me anymore!”

              “Laura Jean Walker, you stop right there or I swear to God---”

              “What?” I turned to face him while keeping one hand on the front doorknob. “You’ll do what, Daddy?! Lock me up? Punish me like you do everyone who disobeys you? You might have been able to convince me I owed you somethin’ when I was a little girl, but I don’t. Because I don’t work for you.” I walked out, slamming the door behind me after opening it. I had the distinct impression that he would pursue me and push me back inside. But in all honesty, I was sure he wouldn't. Later, I'd have a rude awakening and might even get grounded, but I wouldn't pay attention to that anyway.

              This wasn't always the case. Me, Mama, and Daddy used to be a happy family. The Louisiana Mafia, the most powerful mafia organization in the entire state of Louisiana and possibly the entire country, was led by Daddy. He was involved in a significant amount of Louisiana's building and land development. Daddy could handle any off-the-record task that any of these companies' top executives required in a stealthy and competent manner. His rivals dreaded him, and those who shared a bed with him knew better than to disobey him. I basically grew up as a princess as a result of this. I had everything I needed. I paid for nothing. I had the best teachers to teach me. I wore the priciest outfits. My father gave me the royal treatment. I had no idea what was always going on in Daddy's office while the doors were closed. Not up until that day.

              My parents had been traveling across the countryside as they normally did on Sunday mornings when I was 12 years old. Due to the fact that Mama enjoyed having the wind rip through her golden hair, Daddy recently purchased a topless vehicle. She may have simply perceived the wind as an old friend because she had always been as happy and brilliant as the sun. As they made their stop at the gas station, they were on their way back home. The only car that entered the parking lot was theirs. Others have told me that it happened so swiftly that only The Flash could have responded to it. A different car drew up and fired some shots at the car. They arrived, pulled up, and left as swiftly as they turned up. Mom wasn't as fortunate while merely seated in the passenger seat, but Daddy managed to escape with a bullet in his shoulder. Daddy was all business after that. He stopped talking to me and stopped taking me places. One of his men was always keeping an eye on me if I had to walk outside. Now, I learned everything inside. I was confined to my home for years, missing my mother, and I blamed my father for taking her away. That is, up until I started breaking his rules and daring him to take action. Yet we just were fighting.

              The hayride wasn't far from the farm my daddy owned, so I walked there, guiding myself by the dazzling lights of the carnival illuminating the sky. By the time I arrived, it had already become crowded. Lights, laughter, and people were all things I craved after being locked in my tower.  I took a few steps around the carnival side of the front entrance till I saw my friend Anne waiting for me by one of the cotton candy machines. I dashed over to her and gave her a bear embrace.

              “I thought you weren’t ever comin’,” she said in her sweet high pitched country twang.

              “My daddy was fussin’ again. I swear he thinks I’m a China doll he can just keep on the shelf to stare at.”

              “So, you snuck out…again?”

              “I did not sneak out. I just walked out the front door. I’m a grown woman now, Anne. I don’t have to ask for Daddy’s permission to go everywhere.”

              “Now, Laura Jean, you know you’re different. Your daddy is---”

              “Not the boss of me.” Anne was the daughter of one of Daddy's employees. We'd known each other for most of our lives, and she was well aware of how deadly my father was. Regardless, we became best friends. “Now, quite your grippin’ at me. Let’s go have some fun.”

              Anne took a long breath and decided it wasn't worth debating with me, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to think about Daddy as I was attempting to get away from him. We wandered around the carnival for a time, collecting popcorn and hot dogs and failing badly at a few games. Finally, we came upon this tent with people sitting on seats and bleachers inside. HANK SNOW! said the sign outside. Starring Elvis Presley, the radio's newest hit. I came to a halt, bringing Anne with me. “Let’s go in here.”

              We shuffled through the crowd, eventually squeezing into the front row on a bench near the microphone. “This looks excitin’,” I said with a smiled.

She looked about uncomfortably at the other teenage girls who had gathered around us. “I don’t know if we should be here, Laura Jean.” She was muttering as though someone was recording her presence in the seats. “I know about Elvis Presley. I heard his song on the radio with my daddy. He said his singin’ is sinful race music. Usin’ negro rhythms and such.”

“Really?” I know she wanted to discourage me from watching the show, but all her words did was pique my interest.

The stage lights came on a few moments later, and the announcer welcomed us to the Louisiana Hayride. He performed his own routine before welcoming Hank Snow and his band to the stage. They sang original country music, which I must say was rather good. I couldn't help but clap. Singing and piano were the only classes I didn't regret having as a child. For a few hours each day, music had been my happy place. I felt connected to it, as if if I didn't have a voice to talk with, I could at least sing and be heard that way. Mama used to compare me to a bird in a gold cage.

Hank Snow had finished, and the announcer had taken his place on stage. “He’s a young singer from Memphis, Tennessee. Got a song out on the Sun Label. It’s all over the radio. Give him a warm Hayride welcome to a Mr. Elvis Presley!”

Applause erupted once more, and the oddest and craziest looking boy went onto the stage. He held a guitar in his hand. His body was decked up in a pink outfit that I'd only seen individuals in negro clubs wear. He had a lovely face and blue eyes the color of a Louisiana summer day, which were outlined with eyeliner. His dark hair was long and slicked back, with the exception of a whisp of curl that hung on his brow. He appeared to be about to choke on his own breath, as if there were too many people around him and the stage lighting was too bright.

“Elvis how are you this evening?” the announcer asked.

“Just fine. How are you sir?” Through the microphone, his voice was rough and smooth, like brushing your hand across crushed velvet. He spoke with a heavy southern drawl.

“You all geared up with your band there to let us hear your songs?”

“I’m all geared up. But, uh, I’d like to say how happy we are to be down here. It’s a real honor for us to be…Get a chance to appear on the Louisiana Hayride. We’re gonna do a song for you we got out on Sun Records. Uh…” He turned to the announcer. “You got anythin’ else to say, sir?”

“No. I’m ready.”

Elvis exhaled nervously through his mouth. I could see his hand shaking as it lingered over the strings of his guitar from where I was standing. His breath was trembling as he peered out at the packed audience.

“It goes…It goes somethin’ like this,” he finally choked out. He began to sing timidly, the microphone feedback ringing around the room. One of his legs began to quiver, as if he was trying to shake off his anxieties during the performance rather than before.

“Get a haircut fairy!” came a voice from behind me. The audience laughed. I shifted my gaze to a clean-cut blonde lad with excessive acne and crooked teeth.

“Shut it! And let him sing.” While whispering, I poured as much hate into my remarks as I could. The boy merely smiled coyly at me, eyeing me up and down like a dinner plate. I swung around, disgusted, to stare at Elvis, who had ceased his song, sweat streaming down his face. And then, with a single dragged-out note, he transformed into a whole other person. It was as if he had gotten all the confidence in the world just by acting as if it were the only thing he was intended to do. He moved his legs and hips in mesmerizing motions more scandalous than I had ever been permitted to witness. Screams began to emerge from the seats, but not panic screams. These were cries of delight emanating from girls my age, who were approaching the stage like zombies ravenous for a meal. They were all around us now, and Anne and I had no choice but to stand or be knocked over and trampled by shouting girls. We were pushed all the way to the front of the most raucous crowd I'd ever heard. My chest was forced into the stage, trapping me between the girls and the boy they were attempting to reach. When I looked to my left, Anne was gone, swept away into the swarm without me. I looked up to see Elvis dancing and swaying to the beat of the song. The girls went even wilder. Those that could reach clutched at his garments, removing his jacket rather than clawing him to bits. Elvis dropped to his knees and sang into the microphone, his guitar having been left somewhere during the music break. In the midst of a crowd, his gaze fell on mine and lingered. With a half-smile on his face, he was singing directly to me. I wasn't yelling or grasping for a piece of him; I was just standing there listening to the music and watching the performance. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was diving further into the tide pools, enthralled in those eyes. Because he didn't look away, I scarcely noticed when he stopped singing. His chest was heaving up and down swiftly, and sweat was streaming down his face and neck. He had the appearance of a superhero fresh from battle. The curtain closed behind him, but he remained motionless. I couldn't stop myself from smiling at him. Hands from behind the curtain grabbed his shoulders and yanked him away. Even so, he didn't stop staring at me until the ruffled curtains were completely closed and we were both out of each other's sight.

I snapped out of the hypnosis I had been in as he left. He was captivating, everything and nothing at the same time. The crowd was starting to thin, so I decided to go find Anne, whom I hadn't seen since we were pushed up in the crowd. I walked out of the tent and waited for it to empty, but I didn't see her come out. This was perfect. What could have happened to her? I went away from the performance tent, peering in the gaps between the game and food tents in case she had been waiting for me there. I was looking in a particularly dim spot near the carousel and behind a massive sign when I heard a familiar voice ask, “So, did you enjoy hearing that fairy sing after all?”

I spun around. It was the boy who had been sitting behind me and heckling Elvis when he came on stage. He was taller than he was sitting, but not any more handsome. I stood firm, as if he hadn't just startled me. “Actually, I did. No thanks to you and your bad manners.”

He took a step closer to me. I tried to back up, but his legs were longer than mine, so he was able to bridge the gap between us. “What’s a pretty little doll like you doing wasting your time with sissy boys like that?”

“And I should be wastin’ my time with a boy like you who corners girls in the dark?”

“Come on now, doll. I know you got a little fire in you from the way you talked back to me.” He drew my skirt closer to him, and I pressed against his chest. “You like to have a little fun, don’t cha?”

His hot breath enveloped my cheeks, and no matter how hard I tried, he was stronger than me. When I struggled, he placed his arm around my waist, trapping me in place. He attempted to kiss me, but I was able to release one of my hands and slap him across the face. His head twitched, but it wasn't enough to get him to let go of me. “Get off me, you bastard!”

A scratch mark had formed on the side of his cheek, and he was no longer amused by my attempts to reject him. He appeared agitated. “You’re gonna pay for that, you bitch!”

He grabbed my hair and yanked it out of its ponytail. I whimpered as he seized a fistful in his palm and a new pair of footsteps joined us. I was able to release myself after the boy loosened his grip in attempt to see who was interrupting his assualt. I turned around to see who my mysterious savior had been. Elvis. He was dressed in the same pink slacks and lace top he had worn on stage, but he was no longer charming. He appeared to have fire in his eyes.

“Is that how you treat a lady?” he asked the boy.

The boy smirked completely, utterly unafraid. “Back off, Nancy boy. This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

“It does because…you see, my mama taught me how to treat a lady. And that means when she says, ‘get away’ you get.”

The boy was now face to face with Elvis. “Last chance. Mind your own business or I’ll mind it for ya.”

Elvis chuckled. “You wanna try that with me, boy? Because you’ll regret it if you don’t walk away.”

The boy did not back down. Elvis punched him in the right face and then in the stomach. Elvis' knee landed directly in the boy's face before he could even recover. Elvis went down with the boy when he slumped over onto his back. Elvis reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, which clicked open with a flash. He snatched the boy's hair and pushed the knife against his neck. He had such a hard hold on him that he couldn't move without slicing his own throat. “Now, apologize to the little lady,” he hissed.

The boy now appeared absolutely afraid, to the point that I believed he was going to pass out. “I-I’m sorry. A-And I’m sorry f-for callin’ you a fairy.”

Elvis pressed the knife into the boy's throat, causing a thin line of blood to form. “Please! It’s alright, I’m fine. Just let him go. He was bein’ stupid.”

He cast a glimpse over his shoulder at me, and I was frozen in that deep gaze for a split second before he returned to the boy he had still placed flat on his back. “If you ever cross me again, she won’t be here to stop me.” He pushed the boy's head into the dirt before standing up and placing his knife back into his pocket. The boy jumped to his feet and dashed through the crowd as quickly as he could.

It was now just me and Elvis. As he approached me, he dusted the dirt from his hands. I had picked up my dropped bag and was crushing it against my chest. The angry and protective man I had just witnessed was replaced by the shy boy I had just witnessed on stage. “You sure you’re alright, darlin’?”

“I’m fine. He was just some ill-mannered country boy.”

Elvis chuckled as he took a breath. He smiled at me again, a warm and deadly combination. “You’re not scared of me?”

I raised a brow. “Why should I be?”

“Any other girl wound seein’ me pull a knife out on somebody.” My back was pressed against the wood of the sign we were behind. He leaned against it and placed one hand by my head.

“I’ve been around people much more dangerous than you my whole life. It’s not the first time I’ve seen weapons drawn.”

This piqued his interest. I had the impression he wanted to say more on the matter, but thought it was better if he didn't. “You were in the front row of my performance,” he said instead.

I appreciated the shift in topics. “I was. You did really well. All those girls liked it.”

“Did you like it?” He appeared genuinely concerned about my response.

I gave him a small smile. “I did. You were amazing. Though it did get a little out of hand back there.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean for that to happen. This was my first time performin’ and I didn’t really know what to do.”

“Really? You could have fooled me. You looked like you knew exactly what to do up there.”

“Now you’re just butterin’ me up.”

“I’m serious, Elvis. You were magic.” And I really meant it. I'd never been more sincere about anything in my life.

Elvis's grin broadened. He was so attractive, yet so quiet and gentle, with a tinge of mystery that I wanted to unravel. I'd never met a boy like him before. I wasn't sure if I'd ever do it again. He leaned in closer to me, and I thought for a split second that he was going to kiss me right there. Instead, he asked, “What’s your name?”

For a second, I had completely forgotten what my name was. “Its—”

“Laura Jean!” Anne sprinted over to me. Elvis retreated while keeping a safe distance as she gave me a firm hug. “Oh my stars, where have you been? I lost you in the crowd and I’ve been lookin’ all over for you ever since.”

“I was lookin’ for you. And I got…sidetracked.” I cast a glance across at Elvis. Anne turned her head, as if she hadn't realized he was there. I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Anne, this is Elvis. Elvis, this is my friend, Anne.”

Elvis tipped his head at her. “Mighty nice to meet ya.”

Anne locked her gaze on him for a few moments, her whole body tight and her eyes wide. She appeared to have come across a ghost rather than the performer we had just seen. She grabbed my arm. “We should go. It’s gettin’ late and my parents will be worried. Your daddy too.”

I scowled, knowing she was only trying to get out of this mess. Still, she was correct. Her parents would freak out if she didn't come home soon. I didn't care what my father said about my still being out. “Fine. We can go. Goodbye, Elvis.”

              Anne drew me away till another hand grabbed my free arm. Elvis frowned at me. “See you later, Laura Jean.” And with another of those mysterious smiles, he softly let go of my arm, and I faded into the crowd with Anne as he watched me leave.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2! Click HERE to view!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

I hope I'm not too late, could I please get a Daryl Dixon fluff au with 'eyes on me' princess/knight protector au. Please and thank you

Man- FUCK. This hit me in the gut. I love it.

Gathering my dress between my fists, I rush to the door, listening to the screams of terror singing through the large, stone hallways. There was no warning of the attack, suddenly my home being set afire and my father was urging me to my chambers to hide.

My mind goes to Daryl immediately, wondering where he was last and my thoughts run rampant, creating images of him fighting for my family and losing his life.

His life would be lost and he would be lost from me in the matter of seconds.

A sudden pounding knock at my door startles me, my whole body trembling as my chest rises and falls in rapid breaths. The door handle jiggles a bit as I clutch my hands to my chest, backing up to rest against my beam in the middle of my room as scared tears drip down my cheeks.

"It's me." Daryl's gruff voice makes my heart drop, my feet immediately carrying me to the door without a second thought, my hands pulling the door open as he falls into the room. He looks winded as he steps further into my chambers, quickly slamming the door and locking it. "Are you alright?" He asks, his hands reaching out to rest on my arms, eyes checking me over for any site of injury.

Before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to me.

"Hey." He whispers, fingers brushing against the strings of my corset as I pull back to look at him, my bottom lip jutting out. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you." He cups my cheeks, forcing me to look up at him just as a loud explosion pounds against the door.

"I know but-" I huff, trying to look out my window but he stops me, his head dipping down to hold my gaze. My shoulders relax a bit at the site of his calming gaze, his thumbs rubbing my cheekbones softly.

"Eyes on me, alright? I'm not going anywhere."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw @admiringlove @witxhy-lexx @starlightandfairies

[krikeymate]

As requested, a continuation of Fictober 2023 Day 28 - “I may not get another chance to say this.”

Previous.

Sam.

I might not get another chance to say this.

Tara’s voice echoes through Sam’s head as she stares out the car window, scenery passing by in a blur, meaningless and grey. Her ears ring, dial tone on repeat, over and over and over. The noises of the radio, the frantic conversation happening around her, the wind whipping against the car as it speeds down the road – all muffled, unrecognisable, lost as she is in her head. In the memory of that last conversation.

What could be their last conversation.

I forgive you.

How dare she. How dare she.

Sam.

So Tara forgives Sam, but how could Sam ever forgive Tara? For giving up, for thinking that Sam would ever let her go, that she wouldn’t come for her?

Sam.

For thinking that she’d have to die alone, that Sam would let–

“SAM!”

Her head snaps to the side.

“For the love of god, pull it together!”

Kirby sits in the driver’s seat, shoulders tense, jaw clenched, hands white where she’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

“We CANNOT afford for you to lose it right now Sam. We need you. Tara needs you.”

The woman chances a look to the side, eyes imploring. Begging. Asking her to stay with us. She’s risking so much, Sam knows. Her job, her future, her freedom. All to help them, to help her. To find revenge in a world where justice has abandoned them.

Sam nods, closing her eyes for a moment. Stay with us Tara.

When she opens them again, she’s ready.

She looks down to her lap, where cold metal rests and runs a finger over the barrel of the gun.

It’s not her choice of weapon. They’re quick… impersonal… easy. Anyone can handle a gun, can kill with a gun. It’s too much, it’s not her. But for Tara, she’d be anyone at all.

“Samantha,” the dolled up little fucker croons, as if he’s not surprised to see her. He is, Sam knows. Oh she knows, from the way he jumped when she kicked the door in, the way he rushed to his feet, knife left unattended on the desk.

The sick little freak had been watching cameras, watching Tara.

Her only regret is she won’t be able to make this last.

“You’re too–”

BANG.

“Late? Yeah, I would have been here sooner, but you forgot to invite me,” Sam sneers to his bleeding corpse, kicking it as she steps over it towards the screen.

She scans it with urgency, watching the figure behind the black and white fuzzy output, trying to find– there, movement. A sign of life.

Sam almost collapses forward from the weight of the sigh of relief she lets out. But she doesn’t have time for that, doesn’t know what state her sister is in. Every second counts now.

By the time Kirby reaches the scene, Sam’s already shot off into the facility, leaving behind only a body and the echo of slamming doors.

She moves to take the freshly vacated place in front of the cameras, eyes darting between the feeds. She spots Tara, then barely a second later, Sam’s there, embracing her.

Kirby lets out a deep breath, lungs replacing fear with relief. She doesn’t know what she’d do – what Sam would do – if anything happened to the kid.

Stepping back, she stares down at the corpse for a moment, before kneeling beside it. Sam has her sister covered, now it’s up to Kirby to cover the rest.

“I’m so fucking mad at you,” Sam snarls through gritted teeth, tears slipping from her eyes as she bundles Tara into her arms.

“You’re not allowed to say that to me, I’m dying,” the girl chokes out, strangled laughter slipping from her lips.

Sam growls – actually growls – at her, frustrated when it only makes her sister laugh harder. “Stop it or you’ll bleed to death!” she demands, rising to her feet holding Tara like she weighs nothing. Like she’s not cradling the entire world to her chest.

“I- I c-can’t,” the girl giggles, a bloody hand with crooked fingers resting against Sam’s chest. The sensation of the heartbeat beneath her skin seems to calm her.

The fall to silence is so sudden that Sam fears the worst, head snapping down, only to find her sister staring up at her with hazy eyes, as if she’s in a trance.

“Is this real?” Tara whispers, hand trying and failing to reach up, to touch skin.

Sam’s throat feels tight, like there’s a hand wrapped around it, squeezing and squeezing until there’s no air left, only pain. She aches to stop, to sit down and comfort Tara in the way she needs right now. But she can’t. There’s no time.

“It’s real love, I’m here, and you’re going to be okay, okay?”

Only silence responds.

“You’re going to be okay.”

[jeysecretive]

So, this story was written on inspiration from those fics: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411574/chapters/72254715

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53701390

You also have to give credit to the music: https://youtu.be/IW-oVKrHupY?si=cPkeacsJjVej10id

And most importantly, who I wrote it for. @blu-ish , this is for you :)

Important Mention!!! This chapter mentions injuries and the use of weapons! Plus, this fic is kind of OC × canon. THE TITLE OF THE FIC IS EXPERIMENTAL!

The Dark Secrets

of the Deep Sea

Chapter One: The Hunt

Chapter two

Important text notes!:

🔵= Sonic

🔴= Shadow

🟣= Indirect characters

🟢= Omega

💓= Rouge

italic font + bold font = Capitan Ghost

Italic font + any color = Thoughts

Simple italic font = special moments

Bold font = special moments

"Oh, come on! Can't a marvellous captain like you take down such a lowly opponent!"

A bullet flew over the head of the hedgehog who said those words with a howl, nearly taking off his ear. But he was abruptly torn backwards by a red echidna, shouting "Look out!"

With an offended snort, the hedgehog struggled to roll to the other side of the deck to continue his taunts.

***

A storm was raging at sea. Huge waves were rising and crashing down, threatening to sink the two ships as they circled round each other in a frenzied dance.

But it was as if none of the captains of these ships paid any attention to the storm, and continued to fight. Though only one of them was really fighting, the other was manoeuvring between the shells and trying to strike at the most important parts of the enemy sailing ship.

"Go Omega, show them your strength!!!" A young hedgehog with dishevelled blue quills exclaimed in a fervour, slide across the boardwalk deck on one foot.

In a threat to his life, he was leaping all over the ship and teasing the men from the other vessel, as if he didn't notice the shells whistling over his head.

A huge mechanism made of ship's debris and covered in iron hoops threw up its arms in protest at the young man's frantic plea.

"We're running out of shells, sir! There's no way cap will allow us to waste them on this!"

"WHAT?! WE HAD PLENTY OF POWDER AND NUKES WHEN WE SAILED!!!"

"You wasted half your war supplies on a game of 'who can shoot the furthest', sir! AND IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!!"

"But you did enjoy being a part of-AAA!!!"

Hedgehog was grabbed from behind by the scruff of his neck and dragged towards the bilge. As he tried to fight off the strong hand squeezing his scruff, he heard a venomous hiss.

"Oh, come on, captain! I'm not done sending them curses yet!!! If you weren't mute, I swear you'd like it too!"

Instead of answering, the hedgehog was shoved sharply down the rickety stairs. The hatch cover slammed sharply over his head.

"Oh, well no! Sonic the Hedgehog is never left out!!!" Screamed the kid, trying to open his way out with his fist. But the boards stayed in place, proving that the hold door was securely locked from the outside.

"Hey! That's not fair! I want in too!" he wailed, hammering on the lid as hard as he could. But when he realised he couldn't get out that way, he sighed and put his hand on his hip, feeling the hilt of his blade with his hand.

***

The wind tore at his cloak as the captain of the brigantine called the "Black Wind" made his way to the helm.

The steering wheel was not occupied by the helmsman, for in times of battle or storms, the control of the ship was entrusted to the captain by default. No one could handle the "Wind" better than its master, and the crew understood that very well.

"HEY GHOST!!!" he heard a loud roar from the side of enemy frigate "STOP YOLOING AND FIGHT LIKE A TRUE FIGHTER, OTHERWISE THE WHOLE SEA WILL KNOW YOU'RE A COWARD!!!"

He snorted contemptuously upon hearing the voice. He had many names whispered by people all over the world, but this one specifically was used quite often. Threats didn't bother his hearing, it was far more important right now to fight off the enemy and keep the people on deck alive.

***

There wasn't a sea on this planet he hadn't sailed, and there wasn't a kingdom whose vessel he hadn't managed to plunder from. The fastest ship in the world belonged to him, and the captain of the "Wind" was elusive.

Despite the fact that he had only appeared on the open ocean about a year ago, the Cap had instantly become a household name as an outlaw.

He worked alone almost all the time, and getting on his ship as an employee was a big hit with the pirates.

No one knew his real name, but he was most often called "Ghost" or "Spirit". Not so often referred to by the simple name "Jack", but his rank and fame as an undead remained unchanged.

Rumours spread across the land that Captain Ghost possessed the most powerful spells in the world, thanks to which he always came out of any situation victorious and kept his ship intact. For this reason, he was constantly hunted, wanting to get the power he possessed. But no one had ever managed to learn his secrets. Perhaps it was the merit of clever magic tricks, but no one knew the exact reasons.

"Black Wind" and its master were covered with legends and tales like an old barque with clams, which made them even more desirable prey for all the pirates and sailors in the world. And perhaps that's the reason why this battle began.

***

Turning sharply to the left, the "Black Wind" nearly toppled over on its side. A hook with four iron claws was sharply thrust at the spot where the bow of the ship had just been. With a loud gurgle in the abyss, it attracted the attention of several crewmen.

"IT'S THE OTHER PIRATES! THEY'RE BOARDING US!!! Shrieked one of the crew. It was so obvious that the cap's tongue clucked unhappily.

But on the other hand he knew that ordinary people were not as observant as he was, so he continued to manoeuvre between the crests of the waves, shuddering unhappily at the rumble of thunder and the shouts of the people around him.

Something was wrong... He couldn't recognise what it was. The danger of being a prey to the waves did not let him forget about himself, and with all this it was necessary not to fall into the trap of "neighbours" and to keep an eye on the condition of "their own". But the sensation of a chill running between his vertebrae was so tightly lodged in the captain's soul that even now, fully absorbed in the battle, the alarm of unknown danger still tickled his nerves.

***

This crew he had taken to his ship a fortnight ago. The pirates, who introduced themselves as 'sea vagabonds', needed to cross the Sol Sea to meet up with, they said, old friends. Ghost knew that such explanations usually amounted to the phrase "it's none of your business," so he didn't go into detail.

These guys were generous with their pay and helped him with the ship, even though the cap was doing just fine on his own.

He hated being around people, and knew that anyone on his ship was a threat.

Despite their friendliness, all these pirates, including their blue-quilled leader, looked at him as dainty prey, and he could feel it.

A target for everyone he met, a target for the whole world.

But the money pouring faithfully into his coffers helped keep him in check.

Being dependent on bits of metal was horrible, but the brigantine needed immediate repair and maintenance after each adventure.

***

Which was why the captain now stood on deck, clutching the helm and trying to get away from the enemy. The pirates of the Wind, securely fastening themselves to the deck with ropes were monitoring the condition of the masts.

Another hook, this time on a longer rope, broke through the railing near the captain's cabin.

Damn it!

If the storm had cleared, he would have had no trouble rounding this frigate and disappearing into the distance.

At the thought that the ship might be captured, Ghost hissed quietly.

His passengers were favourable customers, and there was no desire to surrender into the hands of the enemy just yet.

At this time, a huge wave came up from behind, causing the Black Wind to tilt nose down. Feeling gravity pulling his body closer and closer to the edge of the ship, the captain used his secret weapon. His embossed-soled boots skidded across the deck, but the black cape wearer take some time to slamming them against each other. With a metallic click, sharp spikes came into view, catching tightly on the planks.

Tilting the helm as hard as he could, he tried to leap off the crest of the wave to keep the Wind from being turned into splinters.

But suddenly he was struck from behind, and Cap let go of the helm to avoid breaking it. Almost beside the helm was a hole from a cannon-ball.

At the same moment the sailboat tilted, losing control.

Realising that it was time to prepare for the worst, everyone on the Black Wind grabbed with all their might at the handrails and ropes by which they were tied to the main mast.

***

But a sudden cracking sound made everyone jump.

The sailboat suddenly levelled out and jerked sharply.

The ghost recognised the sound.

They were being hooked.

A thousand devils... Now we'd have to deal with three times as many problems.

Seconds later, hooks rained down on the deck in a hail, ripping boards and making holes in the hull.

A low growl rose in the captain's throat.

Glancing around, he realised that the storm was abruptly ceasing.

Of course it was the enchantments!

If he had more time to sleep, he would have been able to smell and dispel them.

But now...

It was a hopeless trap.

***

A huge frigate was approaching the Black Wind. The inscription on its bow said that the ship was called the Threat of the Seas.

Ghost recognised this ship.

It was worth preparing for the worst.

The pirates huddled together on the deck stared hopelessly at the approaching behemoth.

"We're screwed..." Rattled Omega in terror. The others murmured fearfully in agreement.

This ship's fame spoke for itself: sunk fleets of the Kingdom of Eggmanland, many robberies of Soleanna merchant ships, and a rumoured kinship with the leader of the Pirate Community.

Attacks on peaceful islands and robberies of other pirates were not uncommon either. All of their atrocities could be listed forever, but to all of this there was a loud rumour that since time immemorial the captain of the Thunder of the Seas had been stealing other pirates and killing them with a painful death. Mostly it was about captains, but occasionally people mentioned ordinary sailors as well.

Legends said that the leader of the Thunderstorm thus wants to gain power over all the seas and become the only pirate captain on the entire planet. He calls himself "Shadow", and this nickname has fully justified him.

For three hundred years, he has been considered the main threat of all seven seas. Invariably he led his crew, remaining a constant danger to every ship he encountered. All pirates who managed to see the captain with their own eyes and escape alive spoke of a black aura hovering around him.

Rumours crawled around the planet that Shadow had made a deal with the devil himself to stay forever young. In return, he would bring the blood of the pirates he killed.

No matter how embellished the legends were, Ghost knew that somehow some of these rumours were true.

He prepared himself for an unpleasant encounter.

***

A large sand-coloured bear landed on board. Its weight made the deck shake slightly. He raised his huge club on his shoulder, and swiftly headed towards the pirates.

But he failed to fulfil his intentions as something black and clearly unstoppable came at him from above.

The big man roared in fright and fell to the ground, trying to throw the unknown creature off him. But suddenly there was a strong blow on his neck, and the bear fell motionless to the ground. The club landed close by, half breaking through the boards.

"Bilge!" Ghost signalled, urging the crew of the Wind to wait out the attack in safety. But none of them moved.

It was strange.

The air around the captain thickened slightly.

That's it. That weird sense of danger... It wavered in him more and more, but Ghost realised that he had to fight off the enemy first.

He stepped behind the ledge so that the next attackers wouldn't see him before his time. Cap glimpsed a glimpse of his crew. They all looked pathetic and confused. Everything inside him cringed.

A very strange feeling was emanating from the entire group. No, not hypnosis or suggestion.... But some bitter, long familiar feeling to the captain. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

It would be easier if these oafs would at least obey a little. Especially Sonic! The important thing was that they didn't find him. Or at least kept alive. He's the only one who handles the money in this gang. Even if they manage to get away without casualties, this youngster will definitely be pissed that his safety wasn't preserved...

But the captain was no longer sure of his thoughts.

This was too strange behaviour for everyone, and knowing the hedgehog, he should have gotten out of the hold almost immediately after being imprisoned.

Too many weird details...

***

Three more pirates jumped out onto the deck. From the looks of it, they were much weaker than the first guest. But unlike him, they were not going to attack the ship so quickly.

Respectfully, they gave way to the one who was honoured and feared by the whole world.

Captain Shadow, in all his splendour, jumped from the outstretched cable onto the planks of the Black Wind's deck.

His hair looked like tar in the faded sunlight, and Ghost could see that it was more like Sonic's quills in texture. Concluding that Shadow was also a hedgehog, Cap continued to watch carefully.

Something dark was indeed emanating from the hedgehog... Something incomprehensible and tense. And somehow it was connected to the change that had occurred in the pirates.

A feeling consumed Ghost and he tensed up, preparing to attack and choosing the right moment.

Something was going to happen.

Shadow slowly made his way towards the pile of Wind pirates. Stopping five paces before the group, he looked them over from head to toe. Even from this uncomfortable angle, Ghost observed the cold menace that cast the dark Capitan eyes.

The small red arrows on his upper eyelids gave his gaze the sharpness of a dagger. The same lancet marks were also on the ebony quills, but they looked paler. These marks were like needles digging deeper and deeper into Captain Ghost's mind.

It was definitely for a reason.

Suddenly, in the silence that hung over the whole sea, the tar hedgehog asked:

"Where is your captain?"

***

Space froze in mid-air. Thoughts and guesses exploded in Ghost's mind, causing his head to blaze.

There was something in that hedgehog's tone. He wasn't... An order. It was a tone one might use to ask a question about the weather, but not--.

He knew the tone one used when addressing prisoners. This one on the other hand was as if Shadow and these pirates were--.

"Right behind you, sire!" Rang out a ringing, cheerful voice behind Ghost's back.

"...Sonic."

He turned around sharply.

The peephole of a carved pistol was staring directly into his forehead.

"Ah-hu-huh, mate! You shouldn't make a move like that, you don't want me to take your brain away, do you?" the blue hedgehog said, chuckling merrily.

This was it. The feeling that haunted him.

All these pirate invasions were just cheap scenery.

It couldn't be said that Ghost was surprised. Disappointment was the overriding feeling in his soul.

How typical.

"Okay, now you're going to have to put your hands up, Cap. I don't want you stabbing me with a dagger or anything" said the blue hedgehog with a smile, watching as the dark cloaked figure noiselessly followed his order. "Oh, I know what you're thinking, mate: "Ah, why did my crew betray me! Were they so intimidated that they refused to listen to me?", weren't they? Well, Cap, I'm afraid to disappoint you further, but this whole mess was a set-up from the start!"

A smug grin spread across the hedgehog's face.

That was the signal.

***

Ghost. A nickname given to him for disappearing from the scene of a crime without leaving a trace. But there's a second bottom may to have every nickname, isn't there?

The flesh thinned to dust, forcing his consciousness to move to the object of his desire in a throbbing lump. Time slowly flowed and wavered as if it were a thick fog.

The bullet had no sooner left the muzzle when Ghost dissipated into the air.

Sonic didn't know what had happened.

The one he had held at gunpoint a moment ago had dissolved without a trace.

A blow from behind caught Blue off guard. He went face-first to the ground.

The gun fell out of his hand and landed with a clatter on the boards, but was picked up at the same second by a black-gloved hand.

Lifting the hedgehog by the scruff of the neck like a cotton doll, Captain Ghost walked to the edge of the ledge where he had been sitting. In his hand a weapon glimmered coldly.

Eyes hidden beneath the hood caught the bright red pupils of Shadow. In the fleeting meeting of the dark hedgehog's gaze glittered a fury almost elusive to those around him, but vividly discernible to the experienced eye.

The ghost realised how much this blue hedgehog meant to the dark one.

"What do you want?" The ebony captain asked calmly. But there was clearly an embittered animal growl in his question.

A flapping of wings was heard from behind. No ordinary man in the world would have heard it, but Ghost's ears felt the rustling as clearly as the splashing of the sea around him. It was clear that the trap was slamming shut.

***

A duplet sounded.

Two shells fired simultaneously from different guns raced towards the people standing on the edge of the wooden ledge.

"To let a stray bullet take a young life would be too low. No matter how violently this boy saw the world, his blue quills should have felt the wind of the sea, not rot in a coffin. Many things he had yet to see and do.

One was to pierce the spine, heading straight for the heart, the other to enter the lung. Death in forty-two seconds from pain shock, cardiac arrest, fear and loss of breath.

There's a 48.6 per cent chance my body would be unharmed. The wind did its job.

Let's hope I can still get out of here.... My energy isn't that durable."

With a sharp whistle, the two small balls flashed past each other and flew far out to sea. And five metres away from the boardwalk, space warped for a moment.

***

Sonic's head snapped up sharply. He didn't realise why his feet were now on the ground. Everything had happened too fast even for his supersonic mind. The dark figure beside him swayed to the side, letting the blue one go.

But there was something clear that Sonic could sense.

Two capsules launched through his body. He could feel their coldness.

But at the same time, he realised he was in one piece. No wounds, no marks. Only an eerie sense of consequence.

"What are you...?" Whispered the hedgehog in confusion, but he was interrupted by a loud whistle.

The bat that had been behind them only a moment ago was now hovering about six metres to the left, clutching a pistol with a perplexed and angry expression. Sticking two fingers in her mouth, she let out another signal before rushing to the attack.

"She shouldn't be there..." flashed through Sonic's mind.

In the next couple of seconds, he was pushed away by a strong arm.

Instead of pointing the weapon at Blue hedgehog again, Ghost forcefully pushed him away from him along with Blue and dashed in the opposite direction.

At exactly the same moment, the enraged girl struck the boardwalk with force, intending to punch her opponent in the head.

And Sonic realised with horror that she wouldn't have stopped, even if his life was in Ghost's hands.

***

Once again, a gunshot rang out. This time the source of the sound was very close to Sonic. Looking up sharply, he saw Captain Shadow standing on one of the zadarn planks left of the captain's cabin.

A blue smoke was billowing from the gilded muzzle of his pistol, confirming that it was the weapon that was causing the noise.

Tracing the direction of the barrel, the hedgehog spotted a dark cloaked figure standing in a fighting stance. Literally three centimetres from his fingers, Sonic discerned a small, sparkling copper puddle.

"Macarter blood. Instantly sedates and paralyses the victim for several days. So they want to take me alive."

"Let me tear him apart, sire!" The bat yapped impatiently, keeping his eyes on his enemy.

"There's no need, Rouge. He's already shown us enough." The black urchin replied in a level tone "...You're a smart captain who knows how to stand up for his own skin," he turned to Ghost. "And I'm prepared to offer you a choice: either you surrender to me, and I'll spare your life if you can be of any use to me.... Or, " his eyes glittered dangerously, "You can die nobly by my bullet and be buried forever in the ocean. Don't worry, the mere movement of your finger will be enough for me to shoot you, so the trick you pulled before won't work. So, what's your answer, Cap?"

A deep silence hung around.

Time seemed to start flowing three times slower again, but this time it only stretched for Ghost alone.

The first sound that rang out in that visceral silence was Sonic's exclamation.

"Oh my god, Shadow, did I forget to tell you about--?"

That was enough.

[thatgiraffefromtlou]

Do You Hate Me Now?

summary: this is the chapter that *that* scene is in. I will put a warning in *bold* right before it starts, and the same to mark the end of it.

wrd count: around 3.5-6k

warnings: cannon violence, david.

other: I hope you enjoy! :)

pt. 3. Els……

"I'm hooome!” you yell into the living room of your beat-down apartment. You reach around your shoulder to grab your bag, “You will not believe what I got my hands on!”

You step over to sit on the couch and start rummaging through your bag. “Dude, get your ass out here so I can show you!” You call out wondering where the fuck he was.

You finally wrap your hands around the surprise and look up, waiting for your uncle to show himself, but he wasn't there. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Yo, I'm not getting any younger out here!” you call out as you get up and make your way down the hallway to his bedroom.

You turn the corner and the room is empty. Your mouth turned into a frown, and your brows furrowed. “Uncle bud?” you call out. You make your way out of the room and to the bathroom. You knocked on the door, “You in here? Don't tell me you fell asleep on the toilet or something-” you laughed. No answer. “Dude?” No answer.

You reach down and wiggle the doorknob, it's locked. “I know you're in there, you can stop playing now!” No answer. “Seriously! I want to show you this.” No answer.

You continue to wiggle the door knob a little more frantically. “This isn't funny anymore!” You kick the door and sigh before you make your way back down the hall to your room, and grab a bobby pin from your nightstand.

‘Thank God we have shitty locks.’ you thought. You make your way back to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the door. You stick the bobby pin in and wiggle it around a little, and you finally heard the click. You grabbed the door handle with a little grin, and pushed the door open, but before you could fully open the door, something stopped it. You roll your eyes and start to poke your head in the doorway. “Dude, seriously give it-”

“Wakey wakey” you heard a voice speak as a hand grasped your arm, forcing you to your feet. Your eyes opened and you were met with a man pulling you out of the cell, and the weird creep David with one other man doing the same with Ellie. You immediately tensed up and attempted to resist the man as he spun you around, pinning your arms behind you, as he dragged you out of the cage.

“Come on,” a man grumbled to Ellie, but she fought too. “Let go!” she gritted through her teeth. “Stop!” she shouted before David started to reach his hand toward her face. “Don't you fucking touch her!” you demanded as you continued to try to squirm out of the third man's arms.

Just as he was about to make contact with her, she caught his hand in her mouth, biting hard enough to draw some blood. David yelped, pulled his hand back, and kneed Ellie in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. If that wasn't enough, the two men lifted her into the air and slammed her down onto a table. The same table that man was chopping up corpses yesterday.

“Ellie!" you called out to her. "Get off me, you dick bag!” you barked to the man behind you and continued to slash around. The man's grip slipped a little and was left holding onto the sleeves of your jacket.

They pulled her further up onto the table, and David raised his arm, revealing a meat cleaver in his hand, “I warned you.” He seethes and stared to bring the cleaver down on her.

“No!” You cried out and kicked the shin of the man behind you.

 “I'm infected! I'm infected!.... I'm infected.” Ellie shouted before the weapon made contact with her.

The whole room went still. 'How did you not know this?' you thought. 'Why didn't she tell you? omg, these fuckers locked you in a cell with an infected girl! But wait, she would have turned by now-' Your thoughts were going a mile a minute as you just stood there.

“Really?” David sighed in a sarcastic tone. “...and so are you,” Ellie said breathlessly. 'Omfg, this is real' you thought. 'What the fuck is happening right now?'

“Right there,” she stated as she motioned to her arm with her head. “Roll up my sleeve… look at it!” David laughed at her antics, not believing her. “I'll play along,” He exclaimed, and slammed the meat cleaver into the table right next to Ellie's head, causing you to both jump.

He rolled up her sleeve, and you moved to stand up on your tippy toes to get a better look, causing the back of your head touch the cheek of the man behind you.

She was bit alright, but something was off. You hadn't made contact with any infected since you met her, and if she got bit before you met, she would have turned by now, or by some miracle would have been extremely sick, and that bite would be oozing with pus, and more red, than a bamboo's ass.

But no, it looked like the bite was healing. Well, it still looked awful and disgusting, but it wasn't red and practically healed shut.

You fell back down on your heels, confused and defeated. “What’d you say?” Ellie asked, “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

David just stared at her arm, and the room was silent aside from everyone breathing heavily. The man on the other side of Ellie broke the silence, "What the hell is that?” he asked while pointing at her bite.

David leaned over and faced the man. “She would have turned by now. It can't be real!” he stammered a little, and the other man quickly replied in a panicked voice, “Looks pretty fucking real to me.”

The man let go of Ellie, and the fresh bite on David's hand distracted him, and Ellie took her chance. She grabbed the cleaver by her head, pulled it out of the table, and swung it into the panicked man's neck.

You took this as your sign and stood back up on your tippy toes, bent forward, flew your head back up as hard as possible, and slammed it into the nose of the man behind you. He quickly let go of you and brought his hands to his nose. Ellie dodged down below the table, and you darted for the door of the room.

David shot at you and missed as you rounded the corner, putting your back to the wall. You looked around, slightly hyperventilating, and saw that Ellie's knife was shoved into the wood of the shelf next to you, and you pulled it out, just as you heard another gunshot. You spun back around to meet Ellie.

You grabbed her arm and dragged her over to an open window, ushering her out of it, and quickly followed her. You both landed and were immediately hit with the strong wind and blinding snow.

You both lifted your arms in front of your faces to block the snow as best as possible. “Shit.” She breathed. “Yeah. shit.” You agreed before you quickly grabbed her hand and took off. “What the fuck is wrong with these people,” she complained.

“Where are you going, Ellie?” You both heard David shout, followed by a gunshot that landed to your right. You veered off in the opposite direction of the bullet and made your way down a weird alleyway-looking place.

“This is my town!” you heard David yell as you were met with a dead end in front of you. You turned to your right and saw a door connected to a building, and ran straight for it.

You removed your hand from Ellie's and tried at the doorknob, and it opened. You ran into the room and did a quick sweep with your eyes. “I need a gun.” Ellie sighed, and you turned to her, finally starting to process what just happened.

Was she genuinely infected? You wanted to ask, but you knew how to read a room, so instead you handed her her knife. “Will this do for now?” You asked with a little bit of a grin. “For now.” She dryly laughed as she took it from you.

You walked over to a weird cart thing and pulled it out from in front of a boarded-up doorway. “What the fuck is this thing?” you huffed, more to yourself than anyone.

You looked down and saw it had a little opening at the bottom. “Hey, through here,” you said to her while crouching down and making your way through the hole.

You were met with what looked like an old pet store before the world went to shit. You crawled and made your way behind a counter, looked around, and saw the silhouettes of two men on the other side of a window in front of the pet store. "Looks like there's only two right now,” you whispered and looked at Ellie. You could tell she was trying to be brave, but her face faltered a little when her eyes met yours.

“Hey, we got this. Okay?” You reassured her as you reached out and touched her arm. She nodded her head and smiled. “We heard gunshots!” The two of you heard a man from outside, causing both of you to focus your attention back on the situation. Then another man's silhouette came into view from the window.

“Infected,” the man stated, and you quickly realized the voice was David's. You peeked your head around the counter and looked around the pet shop, and your eyes landed on a broken bottle on the floor.

It could have been more practical, but it was better than your bare hands. So you grabbed the bottle and looked back to the window where the three men stood.

“Alright, I need you to round up everyone who isn't armed, and get’em clear out of here. We're gonna find that girl, and we're gonna kill her.”

Enough heard, you thought, "Follow me and keep your eyes open and your ears sharp".” you explained to Ellie and quickly made your way to a broken window to your left and hopped out of it.

You dropped down into another alleyway and made your way into the next building, Ellie right behind you. “Oh fuck.” Ellie huffed. “We're gonna find a way out of here,” you reassured her.

But you weren't sure if you said that for her sake or yours. You had no fucking clue what you were doing but pushed forward nonetheless. You snuck your way through the building and crawled out another window.

You landed in an ally and ducked behind a dumpster. “You see her?” a man yelped out. “She's not over here!” another barked in reply. And right as you were about to move forward, one of the men rounded the corner to the alleyway.

You looked at Ellie and she nodded, and as soon as the man made it to the edge of the dumpster, she sprung out and jammed her knife into his throat.

And before he even hit the ground, the two of you took off and out of the alleyway. On one hand, you were grateful for the snow, it was a great cover, but on the other, it wasn't very pleasant. It was working its way into your shoes, and it was also a good cover for the other people involved.

More men shouted at each other, but you found it easier to tone out their conversations and sneak past most of them. Bells started to ring, and you tried to tune those out too, but Ellie broke your concentration, “god they're everywhere.” She breathed nervously. “Just keep pushing forward,” you told her. Keeping your voice as calm and steady as you could.

You finally managed to tune everything out as you two continued to sneak through the town and kill anyone that got in your way. Slowly but surely, the two of you finally made your way inside another building, out and away from the snow.

You put your hand out in front of her to stop her from moving forward. “Shhhh.” you warned her. You listened very, very carefully, and nothing. “Okay, check this place for supplies, bandages, guns, anything. And make it quick and quiet.” You felt bad about how void of emotions that sounded, but she didn't seem to think much of it.

She nodded her head, and the two of you split up and searched the one-story building. You found some bandages, alcohol, and water. You quickly bandaged yourself up and went to look for Ellie. Upon further inspection, you realized this looked like an old country house restaurant.

It was kinda cool, you thought, almost untouched. When you found Ellie, you quickly bandaged her up and shared the water you found with her, finishing off the bottle.

After the two of you were done, she revealed the gun she had found and handed it to you. “It's only got a few bullets, but I'm sure it's better than your bottle,” she joked. You grabbed the gun from her hands and laughed, “Thanks.” Then you took a deep breath and looked at the door with a heavy exhale. “Okay, you ready?”

“As I'll ever be,” she sighed. “Alrighty then, let's get the fuck out of this shit hole.” And with that, you made your way to the door. Slowly opening it, you pointed the gun in front of you and were quickly met by David, grabbing your arms and pushing you back into the building.

He slammed you against something to the right of the door, and you let out a groan from the pain. He struggled with you to pry the gun from your hands. “You two are easy to track” he snarled before whipping you around again and throwing you to the floor.

Your hand lost grip of the gun, and your arm hit a lantern that was behind you. It fell with a crash, oil spilling out, causing the floor to if ignite. You landed a few feet away on your back and yelled out, “Fucking run Ellie!”

“Don't you move!” David pointed the gun toward Ellie and back to you. He held his eye contact with Ellie, and you took that advantage to slowly start getting up. “How'd you do it?” he seethed.

Your feet planted onto the ground and grabbed Ellie's arm, yanking her down behind a booth. “That's alright,” David huffed. He turned around and locked the door. You tugged on her arm, motioning her to follow you, and crouched further away from David's voice. “There's nowhere to go!” he shouted. “You want out? Gonna have to come to get these keys,” he taunted with a chuckle.

You turned around and held your hand out, asking for Ellie's knife. She quickly handed it to you, and you made your way to David. Sneaking up behind him, you pounced on him and jabbed her knife into his shoulder, accidentally missing his neck.

He pushed you off of him, and you fell to the ground. He aimed his gun at your head, but you quickly rolled over onto your stomach, barely dodging the shot, and ran for cover. You handed the knife back to Ellie and pulled her along with you.

As much as you would never admit it, that fall knocked the wind out of you, you needed her to take the next hit on him. Not to mention the fire was spreading fast, and the smoke was making it harder to catch your breath. He continued to chase the two of you around, taunting you two before Ellie managed one good stab to his abdomen.

This split the two of you up when you both ducked from his gunshots in opposite directions. This didn't falter his taunting though, trying to get on of you to show yourselves.

You were ducked down behind a booth when something hit you hard in the back of your head. You fell face-first into the ground, and your body went completely limp.

*Okay this is the warning for *that*. I will cut back in once it’s over if you would like to skip through it:)*

You felt his legs straddle you from behind, he grabbed your hair in his fist, and brought your face up from the ground. “Oh don't give up now…” he pouted.

“Where’d all that fight in you go? Huh? Did I knock it out of you?” he laughed. “Fuck you.” You coughed out at him, and before he could even react, you saw Ellie go in for another hit on David, coming from behind the booths like some kind of fucking ninja, and they both fell to the ground.

You tried to get up, but you couldn't move. The smoke was getting to you, you could hardly breathe as you let out small coughs. You didn't know what was going on as you watched her lay there. Ellie went to get up, crawling towards something, before David came out of nowhere and kicked her right in the gut, causing her to topple over.

“I knew you had heart,” He admitted a little breathless. ‘You know it's okay to give up. Ain't no shame in it,” he taunted her as she got up and continued to crawl forward. David chuckled, “I guess not... just not your style, is it?” he chirped before landing another kick to her stomach.

She coughed at the pain. “Els...." You managed to croak out, which threw in another coughing fit. David threw his leg over Ellie's body and straddled over her before he pushed her head into the ground, face first. “Stop.” You pleaded with him and managed to weakly move your arm towards the two of them.

“You can try beggin’,” he told her. “Fuck you!” she spat out. And you couldn't help but laugh to yourself, as you moved your arm to push yourself up a little, raising your head.

And of course, again, he didn't find that statement too humorous. He twisted her around to face him and got close to her face. “You think you know me? Huh?”

She struggled with him pulling her face as far away as possible, grunting and crying. He wrapped his hands around her throat and seethed at Ellie, “Well, let me tell you something. You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

Ellie snaked her arm out from under David and started to reach for something above her head. You let your eyes flow and saw what she was trying at. His machete, he dropped the fucker. HA! What a dumb ass. As much as you were seriously terrified shitless, this was your way to cope, laughing. And that’s what you did, well- kinda, more coughed than anything, but who was keeping track?

She finally wrapped her hand around the handle and didn't waste a second, before swinging it out from under the booth chair and bringing it down on David's arm. He recoiled away from it, got off of Ellie, and landed on his back.

She took her chance and crawled on top of him, and brought the machete down on David. She hit him repeatedly, not stopping as she grunted with every hit.

You just watched, wide-eyed. You could not believe what was happening. You shut your eyes tight and tried desperately to escape. Maybe this was just some fucked up nightmare? Maybe you'd be waking up soon. But no, you couldn't tune out the squelching of the blade digging into his skull.

*This is where Joel comes in. I consider that a good jumping-in point, but if this is also triggering then feel free to wait till the next chapter is out :)*

And then another man's voice booms in your head, “Ellie! Stop. Stop.” You opened your eyes to see the man grabbing her and pulling her away from David's body. She dropped the machete and tried to push the man away from her. “No!” she screamed.

You started to slightly feel all your limbs again, coughing as you pushed yourself to your hands and knees. “Don't fucking touch me!” she yelped, thrashing around in the man's arms.

The man started to shush her in a cooing voice, “It's okay.’ he whispered to her. “It's me. It's me,” he said to her as she straightened her up to look at him. You tried so hard to crawl toward her, but your limbs were shaking. You fell sideways onto your ass, your arms still propping you up.

You shook with every cough, tears started to blur your vision as you watch the scene in front of you.

He grabbed Ellie's face, “Look. Look. It's me.” She looked at him registering who was holding onto her, and broke. “He tried to-” she tried to say, but the man just pulled her into a hug. “Oh, baby girl… it's okay. It's okay,” he told her as he rubbed her hand up and down her back.

“Joel..." she sobbed, and it clicked for you. Your heart started to swell, and a lump formed in your throat. You suddenly felt out of place. All you wanted was for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

It was a very touching moment, but it made you miss your uncle more than you have in a long time. Your heart ached for that comfort and squeezed your eyes shut for a few short moments and opened them back up.

You wanted the earth to swallow you up even more, as soon as the man made eye contact with you. He turned back to Ellie, and your hearing cut out, ringing sounds filled your ears.

You were no longer there anymore. You could see him consoling her, you could feel the cold wood on your hands and the burning smoke filling your lungs, but you weren't there. The man then stood up and slowly grabbed your arm, and guided the two of you out of the burning building.

pt. 4

I’ve decided i have a deep fucking hatred for cliff hangers. I was gonna throw one at y’all, but decided against it. The fact that there’s more to the story is cliffhanger enough in my opinion LOL and this was again, hardly proof read 💀 so i’m sorry if it gets confusing at all-

Anyways, hope you enjoyed! If there’s anything special or specific you would like to see in the next chapter feel free to ask! I have yet to write it and i would like to know what kind of direction you guys would enjoy the most.

Also I am open to tagging anyone when I update the story, so if you would like to be put on a tag list I would also love to do that as well!

until next time!

[lonelyyinchicago]

“oh baby i was there for you, all i ever wanted was the truth” 

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS” james exploded suddenly, advancing towards the younger boy. “YOU HAD A CHOICE!”

“NO” regulus shouted back, finally finding his voice. “I DIDN’T.”

“you could’ve said no” james started flatly. 

“really?” regulus questioned, his snide tone clearly masking hurt. “it’s not that eas-”

“do you even try?” james asked suddenly. “you let people walk all over you and never say anything.”

“what am i supposed to do?” regulus asked, looking straight at james, as though he expected a genuine answer. 

“i-” james faltered as regulus continued to stare at him, raising an eyebrow as he waited. “i don’t fucking know but that’s not on me either.”

regulus remained still as james turned away, walking out of the dark classroom without looking back. only when he heard the door hinge’s creaking stop and the lock catch did regulus allow the tears that had built up to break free. he sniffed, slowly raising a hand in almost wonder to touch the slightly tacky, damp skin. it had been years since regulus had last cried - years since he’d had anything he cared enough about to warrant such an emotional response to disappointment. 

he exhaled shakily, pressing a hand over his mouth to prevent his cries from being heard. the tears refused to stop, regardless of how much regulus willed they would. he pulled out the nearest chair and collapsed onto it, his knees no longer supporting his body. he sat in the dark, tucking his knees up to rest his chin as he folded in on himself. he wrapped his arms around his body, finding them nowhere near as warm as james’ had been only days before. 

shaking his head with such vigour that dark curls fell forward, regulus stood up, his chair toppling as it tilted precariously for a moment on two legs. regulus sighed as he righted it, the wooden legs scratching on the hard stone floor. he made his way across the classroom, tugging at his left sleeve anxiously. he paused with his hand just above the metal door handle before closing his fingers around it, and stepping out into the corridor. 

the final two candles were still flickering in the candelabra above but the gust of wind that slammed the door behind regulus closed extinguished both instantly. wandering down the corridor, regulus turned the corner towards the entrance of the slytherin common room. he stopped suddenly, staring when his eyes landed on the slumped figure of james potter against the pale sandstone wall. 

near a fire bracket, regulus peered around one of the nearby suits of armour until the feeling of heat forced him to move slightly. he tripped over his own feet, clattering into the metal. the slytherin cursed internally as he heard james scramble to his feet, looking up and down the dim corridor with an expression of confusion on his face. 

regulus stepped out from behind the armour, watching with slight amusement as james remained looking surprised at seeing the younger black brother. james cleared his throat uncomfortably as regulus walked straight past him to stop directly opposite the engraved brickwork which was the entrance to the slytherin common room. 

regulus inhaled sharply as a warm hand was wrapped around his left wrist, preventing him from entering the common room. he turned to face james, something resembling a smirk at his lips. 

he looked from the hand holding him still up to the dark eyes defiantly. he waited for james to finish analysing his face, waited for him to say something, before looking away.

“can i see it?” james eventually asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“sure.”

“do you even regret it?” james asked, taken aback by the flatness of the younger boy’s tone. 

silence was the answer, broken only by the slight rustle as regulus pulled up his sleeve. the writhing of the dark tattoo initially captivated james’ attention but after only a few seconds, his eyes instead stared at the redness of the surrounding skin, the angry burn marks created by the incisions that had been made. 

“do you regret it?” james asked again, finally pulling his eyes away from the tainted skin. 

“i feel like if you’re to regret something, you have to have a feeling of guilt about something you’ve done and i don’t feel guilty about it because it wasn’t a conscious choice i made myself, so no, i suppose i don’t regret it.” regulus looked up at james before continuing quietly, “although i don’t think that’s the answer you really wanted to hear.”

“well” james began slowly, thinking. “you said it wasn’t a conscious choice so were you forced into it?” 

“does it matter?” regulus asked. “you’ll be disappointed either way. either because if i wasn’t forced and it was my choice you’d hate me for it but if it wasn’t my choice and i was forced, you’d be disappointed because i’m not like sirius and i didn’t stand up for myself.”

james paused, contemplating regulus’ words. 

“were you forced?” james asked, answering regulus’ question with one of his own.

regulus’ head dipped slightly, unable to look james directly in the eye. he gave a single nod before letting out a gasp of surprise as he was pulled into james’ chest by the keeper.

“why didn’t you say?” james asked. “why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

regulus pulled away, blinking back tears that were threatening to return.

“i did” regulus told him. “i said i wasn’t given a choice; i did say that, i did.”

james ran a hand through his hair, trying to recall their earlier conversation. the word choice returned to him and he stared blankly at regulus as the realisation of his own prejudices hit him. 

“i’m sorry.”

[showfall-costumes-department]

[Video transcript received.]

[Jenny paces around outside of the apartment complex, wringing her hands and muttering under her breath inaudibly. Owls hoot, and she paces faster.]

J: “God, okay, okay, that’s… Okay, everything’s going to be fine, stop worrying so much, it’s just hurting you. Worrying is what…”

[She stops in place, almost falling over from her momentum. Her sentence continues with extreme unease.]

J: “… Worrying is… What killed Daffodil…”

[She stands still for a moment, and all that can be heard is the wind… Then she keeps pacing. Faster. Her breathing grows heavy.]

J: “God, why would I come back? They’re not going to let me in, I… It’s going to be just like the hospital, I won’t be allowed in, they’re going to have found my fingerprints or something in Daniel’s apartment, and I’m going to be charged for murder, and even if I’m not, will Edgar even let me in? I heard he wasn’t doing too well, what if…”

[Jenny stops again.]

J: “What if he’s…”

[Jenny races up to the front doors of the apartment complex, placing her hands on the handles, ready to yank the doors open… Then she stops… And listens.]

J: “… That…”

[Faint singing is heard in the woods, the lyrics impossible to make out, if there are any.]

J: “… That’s been happening for a few nights now, it’s driving me crazy… What is that…?”

[As Jenny goes silent, lyrics are audible. The voice behind the lyrics is soft and slightly shaky.]

?: “… While life soon will fade, I’ll meet you at the masquerade…”

[Jenny inhales, recognizing the music. She shivers.]

?: “While our hearts swinging to violins singing ‘til dawn…”

[Song identified: Masquerade by Jack Hylton & His Orchestra.]

J: “… Oh hell no, that’s from The Shining… Absolutely not, terrible sign… Maybe S is right…”

?: “… Lady dressed in jade, hold me tight at the masquerade…”

[Jenny slowly looks down at herself, then sighs in relief.]

J: “That would’ve been freaky… Ha, it’s blue, jokes on you!”

[Jenny jokes around, but her voice holds heavy anxiety.]

?: “If the music halts here then my heart will waltz here, right on…”

[Despite Jenny’s clear disapproval of the situation, she moves closer, hiding between thick curtains of trees. She sighs, muttering.]

J: “This is a terrible idea, Jen…”

?: “… Twelve o’clock is chiming on the clock up above…”

[She stops behind a larger tree. After a moment, Jenny glances in the direction of the voice, her curiosity getting the better of her… “Oh, you fool...”]

?: “… Now if you unmask your heart, I’ll love you, love you…”

[Jenny gasps sharply, unable to breathe, unable to speak. Her heartbeat quickens, and she brings a hand to her mouth. She would have accidentally screamed if she could have made noise.]

?: “… Midnight shadows fade…”

[Jenny’s breathing is uneven, caught between sobs and hyperventilation. “Your curiosity has doomed you”.]

?: “No one’s left at the masquerade…”

[Jenny backs away from the musical figure, emotions evident as the camera shakes with her fearful trembles.]

?: “… Everything is through, dear… But my love for you, dear…”

J: “No…”

?: “… Lives on…”

[Jenny sprints away, breathing heavy. She finally stops at the wall of the apartment complex, slamming her back against it to try to steady herself. She coughs a bit, the run taking quite a bit of energy from her. She finally squeaks out a few words.]

J: “No… No, no, no, no, that’s all wrong… That’s not… It can’t be…”

[She struggles to speak, her voice strained as if she were being strangled.]

J: “No, no, no, that’s… No…”

[Hyperventilating, Jenny drops to a crouch, then to a curled up ball on the ground, back against the wall.]

J: “No, I was just seeing things again, I was just seeing things again, I was just seeing things again…”

[She pulls her legs to her chest. They tap against each other, causing clicks that are caught on the recording. Jenny hears the clicking, and raises her head to look at her legs.]

J: “… There’s no way they’re alive. I would know, I’ve been attacked by securities, I lost my legs because of them, I…”

[Jenny’s thought trails off as she stares at her legs… Her reflection in the dark metal like a mirror. She’s silent for a long time.]

J: “… ‘My name is mine’…“

[She mutters to herself quietly, as if reciting a mantra.]

J: “My story isn’t over… ‘My name is mine’… My story is mine…”

[She curls up further.]

J: “Then why is everything so foreign to me…?”

[End transcript.]

[bishop-percival]

@head-chef-watchdog-quincy

(prev) Very bold of this man to commit such a cruel thing while in such vulnerable position. Quincy watches the plate burn, his hard work insulted and incinerated beyond recognition. It almost brought him to tears however a much more powerful feeling overtakes this. He kicks Percival's chair in again, with much more force this time, possibly winding the bishop due to digging his torso so suddenly into the edge of the table. "...At least my steak isn't pathetic enough to cry over a pet rat." The chef shook there for a moment, many ideas began to run through his head. Quincy thought Percival was his friend, but a friend does not act like this do they? Did the rat really upset Percival that much? Whatever the issue Percival resorted with insults and cruelty and so Quincy did not feel very merciful now. In all of his life the one thing he has been passionate for, cooking, for his cooking to be insulted by such a snarky and babyish... Friend... How infuriating. He continues, his voice sounds much more restrained than before, he's seething as he tries to hold himself in place behind the chair. "It's a pet Percival, you calm down and I calm down, but if you can't calm down..." Quincy rummages once again through his coat and good god that's a cleaver "Then I won't calm down." To demonstrate juuust how serious he was being right now Quincy slammed the damned thing just about near where Percival's plate should be. It digs into the table. He's holding the chair with one hand which means he did this little demonstration with his one spare hand. Not two hands. Quincy is capable of cutting rather cleanly into a solid surface with one hand. He is trying, very hard, to be a polite person right now. He could have just gone straight for Percival's stupid little vulnerable fingers and made his way around from there however he must give his friend some form of chance. Maybe rats just make Bishop Percival so afraid and erratic, but even then, atleast one finger should be worth the damage Percival had done to the dish. It's the least that man could offer for ruining his dinner for friends. Quincy doesn't say these things but they're very persistent in his head. He would be lying to himself if he said he was not remotely tempted to dice that man. But that's not a way to think of friends... ..Is it? Is he a friend..? Quincy isn't familiar enough with friends to understand so well, so instead of overthinking it he asks bluntly. He does not move his cleaver. "The Most Reverend Bishop Percival, are you my friend?"

“PWOOHH!” was the sound of the wind getting knocked out of the bishop as he slammed into the table. The slam of the table startled Sherri Jr and she quickly clambered back into Bert’s labcoat. The charred plate fell from Percy’s hands and shattered, scattering the steak ashes around. Bert, who had been eating while tentatively watching this all unfold like a movie, then frowned after realizing he’s going to have to clean that up.

Percival slumped forward a bit, but did not flinch when the cleaver blade came crashing down an inch away from his face. He slowly turned his head to meet the eye of the chef. He took in a raspy breath in preparation to answer the chef’s question. But before anything could leave his mouth, the moment was interrupted by a “Stop, stop, stoppen! The both of you!”

Bert rose from his seat. “The both of you are being rude!” He pointed at the broken plate. “Percy! Glass mess I have to clean!” He pointed at the door. “Door handle mess I have to replace!” 

Bert then looked at Chef Quincy, brow furrowed. “And Chef Quincy!” He pointed at the cleaver wedged in the table. “Table mess I have to fix!” He opened the side of his labcoat to reveal the lump of green fur shivering in his pocket. “Sherri Jr mess I have to comfort!” And if Quincy got mad enough to cleave into that rotten bishop, that would be a blood mess he’d have to take care of… but Bert wasn’t going to say that one out loud.

But what Bert was about to say out loud, he didn’t quite mean it truthfully but just wanted to deescalate the situation. “I have been rude too. I did not know Percy was so so so afraid and scared of rats. So let’s please not hurt anyone. Because that is rude too.”

[tera-nyx]

Defenseless

“Hey Zoey!”

“Teraaaaaaaa!” she sings back to me through my computer. I’m sitting in the kitchen of a small house. The whole thing is quite small, but homey. There’s a one car garage that leads to the kitchen, where I’m sitting at the dining room table with a laptop in front of me. Outside the glass sliding door is a small yard with a light wood privacy fence.

My partner Ella is not home, she’s off at work today. The silence between greetings with Zoey yields to a click of the front door. I hear it swing open gently, and then silence takes hold again. “Hold on Zoey I think the front door blew open or something,” I get up to go look. The angle from the kitchen doesn’t allow me to see it until I come out of the kitchen. A wall separates the kitchen from the living room, and the living room is directly attached to the entryway. Next to the entryway is a stairwell that leads to the bedroom upstairs.

I come through the doorway between the kitchen and living room to view the front door. No one is there, there’s no one on the stairs next to it going upstairs. Wind? I thought I locked it, but maybe not. The door flails quietly from the mild summer breeze outside.

I close the front door and lock the deadbolt. Before even the first step back towards the kitchen, I hear another click. Shruffft. I swallow hard, and hurry back to find the sliding glass kitchen door open. I ensure no one is inside the kitchen and close the door, locking the door again. My hands tremble and a chill creeps down my spine.

“What’s going on?” Zoey askes through the video call.

“The doors are opening randomly, I gotta go, I’m gonna call Ella to see if she’s messing with me.” I hang up the call with Zoey. I hit call on my phone for Ella, and as it rings and a menacing click echos from the other room. I run into the convergence between the kitchen and living room to see that the latch on the sliding door between the living room and the outside is down, indicating it’s unlocked. The chills in my spine increase in intensity, panic solidifies, and tears begin to fill my eyes.

“Fuck, El, pick up,” I stammer. I stay in the middle of the house to watch the doors, fearing the unlocked living room door. Two more grating rings sustain over what seems like eternity.

“Hey love what’s up, I’m at work?”

“You’re at work?” My voice nearly breaks.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she replied with worry in her voice.

“The doors keep unlocking and opening and I don’t know what to do.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Like the doors keep -” another click at the front door. “Fuck no no no no no.” I involuntarily cover my mouth with my free hand.

“Hon, try to calm down, you're not making sense - what’s going on?”

“Someone is getting into the house Ella please help me,” my legs collapse beneath me. “I think they’re going to hurt me.”

“I’m going to contact the police, just get out of there,” she said gravely.

“They’re already out there, or in here, I don’t know!” Tears rush down my face.

“Hey stay on the line with me then, tell me what’s happen-” the front door flings open. I let loose a short scream. Adrenaline kicks into my legs and I sprint to the door. I slam it close and lock the deadbolt, and run towards the still unlocked living room door.

As I drop the latch into the locked position, I hear the front door unlock again behind me. Before I turn around, I hear it burst open violently and rapid footsteps ascend the stairs to the bedroom. I turn to see the door is ajar, and bouncing halfway back closed from hitting the stopper. My grip on my phone is painful, but all I can do to stop from dropping it due to the shaking. I slide into a fetal position underneath the handle of the living room door, staring at the front door behind the sofa.

“Tera! Tera! Talk to me are you okay?!” Ella’s frantic digital voice yells through the cell. “Tera?!!”

“I’m here,” I sob. “They are in the house.”

“Run!” Ella urges. “Just get out of there!” 

I gather the energy when I hear another click and the sliding of the kitchen door on the other side of the wall. There’s more than one.

“I can’t, they’re everywhere.” I revolved my gaze from the front door to the kitchen doorway to the stairway, and then back to the front door again and again. Upstairs I hear some sort of white noise press through the floor and bounce down the stairs. It gets louder, sustains, and then slowly trails off.

I remember there’s a rainstick next to the bed, the one that I was supposed to use when I’m panicking, but it has the opposite effect that it’s supposed to.

My voice comes out as if drained of life. “I can hear the rainstick.” It mocks the way I try to ground in the moment. Tears stream down my face. My lungs spasm. I’m drowning in terror. Nothing will ever be okay again.

“I love you El, I’m so sorry.”

[drewbacca2]

Starkiller Saga

44 BBY Chapter two part six

Weird looking Acklay

As we land in the residential sector, I recall Bar Lar gave me his contact info before I left Gungan Cargo's warehouse and was told to contact him when I find the "cargo" and then when I subdue it. We walk not even ten feet and Karrstag tells me. "I smell blood! Follow me!" I then start running behind Karrstag, with Meris behind me. We see scratches in the metal of the floors and walls. And we start to hear fighting coming from this door. I open it and we're in this courtyard with a bunch of people hiding and ten people hold the Kkorrwrot down with ropes. Then I see six civilians approach with makeshift spears and I approach and yell "No! Don't stab it with those! Me and my crew will stun it and have it taken away! Please let us handle it! But we also need help from you to hold it down! But more people are needed for that to work!" The civilians drop their spears and run. I pull Vengeance and Justice and I say "set them to stun guys!" We start stunning and I text Bar Lar from my hud and tell him that I found it and I give him my location. He says "Very good, I'll have a transport ready for when you stun it unconscious." At this point we have twenty stuns in and it's slightly showing signs of the stuns working.

I say "keep it up! It's starting to show signs of the stun working." It's at thirty five and it almost stabs a civilian. I look around and we're at a safe distance… I don't like that. I run up and I get under it, this should be more effective against it anyway. We get to forty and it's starting to get a little wobbly. I dodge many attempts of it trying to stab me with its legs. Fifty. I notice that it's about to fall. I say "everyone! Pull as hard as you can!" They do just that and I have to roll to not get crushed. I say "keep firing!" And as I say that it attempts to bite me, but I move out of the way.It finally stops moving and I call Bar Lar. "It's done. Are you almost here?" I hear wind on the comms and I hear Bar Lar above me. "Right on time Grozchal! We'll take it from here. The transport has a crane and a giant metal box which has air holes near the top. The people that came here are probably the contacts people. They look over the Kkorrwrot then give Bar Lar the thumbs up. They then hook up the Kkorrwrot and the crane lifts it up and puts it in the box and it closes up. Bar Lar turns to me and gives me 50,000 credits as promised. "Good work Grozchal. I hope to have continued business with you." I nod and we leave as well. As we walk back I give 10k to Karrstag and 15k to Meris totalling to 25k. In telepathy "Consider that paying you back some. Thank you, even though I told you it was ok not to." I get a feeling in my gut… someone is watching us. I look behind and for a second I see a hooded figure behind us. A civilian breaks my line of sight… did they have a lightsaber?! I put it out of my mind so I don't worry Meris.

We ride back to the Raven and we get up to the ramp but before I go up i get a chill down my spine, I look behind me and I see the hooded figure again. He's not escaping me this time! Especially not since he knows where we are! I run towards him as he draws his lightsaber and ignites it. It's orange. Nice color I guess. A cargo speeder slams on the brakes, almost hitting me. "Sorry!" I yell. I go past it and he's gone. "Damn it!" I yell. I wait till the cargo speeder drives off and I walk towards the loading ramp once again. "Are you ok?" Meris asks. "I'm fine." I say. "Not sure what I keep seeing." "Maybe you should get some rest. We'll let you know if you're needed." I nod.