#sorry i took so long AHHH this has been rotting in here all day

[ghosthoodie]

pleas draw acht all the time forever and ever i love this drawinty. im gonna EXPLODE b!!!!!!

SOME MORE ACHT FOR YOU…ive been drafting my own design for them lol

#ask #wooden speaks #fisheyezzz #sorry i took so long AHHH this has been rotting in here all day #my art #acht splatoon #splatoon #digital art #artists on tumblr

[courtlyharlequin]

Breathing Room

Warnings: fluff, no plot just brainrot,  lowkey horn knee, feral and angry Taku coming from nine o’clock because I squeezed too much of her favorite tropes into this

Summary: Humans are strange. Their hobbies and customs are bewildering, but nothing Jade couldn’t handle as he was quick to adapt. Sometimes, he might even partake in said activities. Case in point with hiking. And you, knowing Jade for a decent amount of time as his significant other, came to terms with the fact that he would decline a request to participate in something that didn’t pique his interest. So when you proposed that he play the pocky game with you, you were certain that he would decline. But he didn’t.

A/N: Happy birthday to the Jade simp, @takuyakistall​~! I’m so sorry that this was posted late but you’re already wary of that and thank you for supporting me through such a tough time. Ahhh life just doesn’t want me to simp for my hair wife! I tell you this a lot but I’ll say it again: I’m quite attached to you since you were my first tumblr friend. I didn’t have any in real life or online friends who like twst before meeting you so you mean a lot to me as my first. You always make me laugh whether it be bullying you or rotting over our mains together. Even when we get serious, I still love talking to you. You’re that amazing.  I hope you have an amazing day, one just as amazing as you are. Eat lots of cake and pocky. I love you ♡

“Jade,” you said, tugging at his sleeves.

He sighed through his strained smile as he set down a glass he was polishing. He tucked his hair behind his ear and dusted off his slacks as if he was brushing away invisible crumbs off the garment. It was an ungodly hour. He was working overtime for Mostro Lounge. Today was unusually busy. As vice prefect, Jade took it upon himself to bite off more than he could chew. And he could chew a lot actually. He was a moray eel with two sets of jaws and an immense appetite. In his human form, he only had one set of jaws yet the appetite remained.

The lounge was deserted. Students shuffled to the mirror chambers and headed to their respective dorms to retire for the night. Jade, on the other hand, was sitting on a barstool with an array of glasses and creased brows. You sat by his side, doing your assignments and engaging him in idle chatter here and there. He had promised to help you with your alchemy homework, but alas his duties called for him. In a way. You didn’t mind per se since he helped you understand the material within minutes during his short-lived breaks.

They were about three minutes long and Jade only took two breaks ever since his shift started. You weren’t an expert at reading people like he was, but even you could tell he could use some rest or a pick-me-up at least. Perhaps the latter. Jade was stubborn. He wasn’t going to head to his bedroom until he was done.

“Yes, (y/n)?”

You reached into your book bag and pulled out a small box of biscuits– pocky to be exact. You held it in front of his gaze. He cocked his head.

“Let’s play the pocky game.”

“Maybe later. We can play after I finish. Or tomorrow. It’s late so you should return to your living quarters and get some rest,” Jade said as he turned his attention to his task.

“Please? Think of it as a break. Your last one was about three hours ago.”

“Well, if you put it like that then I shall indulge you, my dear.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as he spun the barstool to make direct eye contact with you. You avoided his gaze as you opened the box, selecting a random stick of pocky and holding it in front of him. He took it and examined it with a perplexed expression.

“What is this?”

“Pocky.”

“Which is?”

“It’s like a cookie biscuit thing with a chocolate covering,” you said, getting yourself your own stick.

“I see. So this ‘pocky’ edible.”

“Yes,” you nodded, biting the pocky.

He mirrored your actions. You watched him chew it thoroughly. His eyes wandered around the ceiling of the lounge. You held your breath as he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“It’s delectable.”

Your shoulders relaxed and he chuckled under his breath. It would have been disappointing if Jade didn’t like pocky. That would mean you couldn’t persuade him to play the pocky game. You looked into his eyes lovingly while he nibbled on the remainder of the stick.

“And what is ‘the pocky game’?” Jade mused.

You took out another biscuit. His brows arched as you waited for him to swallow the last bit of his current pocky stick.

“The objective of the game is to be the last to hold onto the stick as we each take a bite and move closer to the center. Whoever is the last to pull away wins. You take one end and I’ll take the other. I’ll let you have the chocolate end because it’s your first time playing.”

“My, my how kind of you. I almost thought you were the headmaster. All you needed was to comment on your kindness.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned.

He brought his hand to chin. He feigned curiosity.

“Though… if you wanted to kiss me you could have just said, (y/n),” Jade gave you a toothy grin, ones he shot at the poor unfortunate freshmen souls that tried to escape the conditions of Octavinelle’s yearly exam contracts before chasing them down the hallways with his brother.

“I-I.. It would be more fun?”

“I jest, my pearl. There’s no shame in wanting to engage in intimacy. I shall indulge you. Though, I have a feeling that I will win every round– seeing as you get flustered even when I embrace you without warning fufu~”

There was not a shred of innocence in his voice. Jade knew where this was going. He was going to do everything in his power to win. He was good at that sort of thing, small ministrations that drove you wild.

When he found out that you were sensitive to neck kisses, chaste or not, he greeted you every morning outside of your first period threshold with a peck on the side of your neck. The first time he did that, you were reduced to a puddle of empty thoughts, a spasm of spiraling emotions and heated cheeks. The following incidents featured your hand instinctively shooting to the spot he kissed, cheeks still hot and bothered. When you had adapted to his rhythm, he kissed your neck in the halls, during lunch, and when he walked you back to your dorm. They were spontaneous and sporadic. They ceased when winter began and you wore a scarf around your neck all day, every day. Of course, that was months ago. The routine faded as your relationship developed. Jade had his share of teasing and came to understand that setting your nerves on fire on a daily basis despite your protests wasn’t exactly healthy. He also came to understand how people might get the wrong idea from neck kisses. He teased you for hours on end for being so lewd, but digressed when you were on the verge of tears due to embarrassment. That didn’t stop his other methods of teasing, but at least you were free from public surprise neck kisses.

Jade loved to tease. He was good at it too. He knew you and your ticks like the back of his hand. You were certainly going to lose this game, but it was better not to let your true feelings show and give him the upper hand.

You inserted the biscuit between Jade’s lips and took a deep breath before taking your end. It was more so a hybrid of a deep breath and a yawn. It was late after all.

Jade’s eyes widened and the stick broke in half. Your eyes widened as well.

“You’re supposed to hold onto the stick for a long as you can, silly.”

He closed his eyes: “Yes, my bad. Shall we try again?”

“One to zero,” you said as you slipped a biscuit into his lips.

“Did that count?”

“Of course it does.”

He pouted as you inhaled and exhaled deeply before taking your end of the pocky. It snapped immediately.

“Jade,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“Apologies, my dear. It seems to be instinctive for me to bite the stick.”

“You can bite. It’s just that the pocky keeps breaking in half whenever you bite it. Maybe try to be more gentle?”

“Two to zero.”

“You’re so cruel, (y/n).”

You giggled as you handed him the stick. He pursed his lips and held the stick out for you to take a bite from your end. You closed our eyes and opened your mouth to take a deep breath once more and the stick snapped before you knew it.

You looked up at Jade to see the pocky awkwardly sticking out of his hand which was covering his face. Mostro Lounge’s dim lights made it difficult to make out many details, but you were positive that Jade Leech was profusely blushing.

“Jade?”

“C-Could you not do that*?”

“Do what?”

What could have possibly reduced him to such an adorable state? He’s usually so composed. He was never this flustered. Out of all the times you tried to get him to break, he was resilient. And here you were, not having any idea as to what you did to make him blush.

“O-Open your mouth.”

“Pardon?”

A yawn escaped from your lips. Jade spun the bar stool around and stared at the glasses with sudden interest.

“Could you not do that?”

“Yawn?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

He mumbled something under his breath.  

“Jade?”

“(y/n), you should have just asked for a kiss.”

The eel stood up curtly from his seat. He towered over you and his eyes glowed in the dark lighting. He pulled out a pocky stick from the box in your petite hands and slipped it in between your lips. There was a small pause before he came crashing down. If he hadn’t been holding your shoulders so firmly, you might’ve fell over from the force that he exerted. He came barreling towards your lips. You weren’t sure if he had even bit the pocky. You felt it snap, but when you parted your mouth to allow his tongue to entangle with yours, you could not find a single trace of the biscuit. The flavor lingered in his mouth, but the pocky itself was nonexistent. Did he swallow it whole?

He did not leave your mind to wander too far from him. He kissed you hungrily and nipped at your lips. His sharp teeth grazed your flesh and you mewled into the kiss. You could hear him growl faintly as he held onto your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He tiled your head for a better angle. You pushed him away. You needed to catch your breath.  A string of saliva fell from your lips.

“Jade,” you gasped as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

“It would be in your best interest if you don’t do that again, especially during mating season. I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself next time. I might break you in half, dearest.”

Your cheeks flushed as you nodded absentmindedly. Mating season?

He bit your neck.You yelped and wriggled out of his embrace.

“Jade!” you hissed, clutching your neck.

“Consider that a small price to pay,” he chuckled.

You huffed.

“I win this time,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah…”

He packed the glasses onto a shelf.

“You’re free to go now. I’ve finished here so you don’t have to keep me company anymore. Would you like me to escort you?”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Jade. See you tomorrow.”

Though you had agreed not to yawn, it escaped your lips. Luckily, your back was facing Jade as you exited the lounge so he didn’t see you yawn, but rather heard you yawn. You heard a distant bang on the counter as well as a faint “dammit” from a voice you knew all too well.

It took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from turning around. You knew all too well that if you turned around, he would’ve rushed towards you and snapped you in half just like a pocky stick. It was best to give him a little breathing room even if you were hot and bothered yourself.

*Note: To initiate the mating process, moray eels open their mouths very wide at each other to signal the start of it. This trait carries over to when (y/n) yawns as Jade took it as a sign for his eel-y instincts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

[orangepurin45]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫!! - 𝐂𝐨𝐩! 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐗 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏.𝐭 1

WARNING: Guns, some Yanderish themes (Oikawa is protective of Bara-arms), Blood, Drug dealing delivery, 🔞triggering sexual content 🔞, Angst, Fluff?, Slight!IwaOi, Mentions of past humiliation & trauma (high-school bullying)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is my first time writing btw. Happy Reading! if not the exit is over there 👉🚪.

Papers sprawled all over the desk, strings attached each other to another. A loud sip from the bulky man and a paper flip to side then eyes rose up to the photo of you grinning like a mischievous fox with red lips and taunting eyes screaming "CATCH ME IF YOU DARE," vibe Hajime grit his teeth glaring at your dirty face.

L/n Y/n, also know as the dark phoenix, Japan's most notorious drug dealing, homicide, and man-woman torturer and murderer in the whole country.

Everyone fears you.

Everyone obey at you.

Everyone believes you are the end.

Everything they think, you were responsible of all of this.

"Iwa-chan! Chief wants you to-..." Tooru spokes but was stopped by the sound of Iwaizumi's chair screech. He stood up, shadow loom under his gaze as he walks out the door.

"Wait! Iwa-chan I was supposed to...!

SLAM!

Inform you, " he finished, his lips turned downwards at the cold room, his chocolate eyes scanned every detail of the room then stopped to your portrait of your scary taunting face.

"Thanks a lot, Y/n-chan... But I didn't know you were into kind of... mess, " he smiles sadly, tracing his fingers at your photo. Lips tighten softly at the flashback, of yourself and the other 3rd years. How ironic to see your sweet, sweet smile in the memories compare to your now scary one.

"But I'm not letting you hurt Iwa-chan...That's a promise!,"

He points at your portait, eyes of determination and protection to swearing to blood to bone of himself not want his childhood friend be hurt. He turned away as long he lives

He will never let Hajime's life on the line.

Blood splatter, and small packet of white powder in the sachet all over the floor. Blowing your gun, hot steam coming out of the hole. Soft red lips upturned wickedly, your loyal subordinates gathers the small plastic packets inside the black bag.

"Bring it on the trunk immediately," You grinned as they nodded, immediately running towards your car.

Although, all happiness and rainbows has to ended when your car exploded and a familiar gunfire break a loose killing at off your men in sight.

"Oh dear... here we go again," You giggled then smirked, eyes delighted to see the man, who is obsessed of you being arrested.

How cute! 💕

"DARK PHOENIX!!!," Hajime yelled, eyes filled with fury and justice glaring at your calm figure. His teeth angrily clench pointing his gun at you.

"What a pleasant surprise!... I never thought you were such a party pooper, Iwaizumi-san! I'm absolutely...hurt," you pouted furrowing your brows playfully at him, to which he just flinch remembering a memory, looking down at the thought.

But you took this opportunity to snatched the gun off of his Iron grip by sitting on his shoulder then do some acrobatics before jumping off his broad shoulders then before jumping back then throw him on the ground with a headlock.

"You know it was all good~ back in the day! My mom always taught me to take care of what mess it was...And that was me she was talking about, "

He grunt, trying to wiggling his way out of your grasped but no avail the tightness is stronger than he expected.  You giggled when you heard him yelped.

“Let ME go this is instant! I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna rot in prison!,”

He shouted, throwing his saliva right at your face at each sentence he threat for you. But you only grinned, eyes in mischief and raising a brow at him.

“Oh please~ Cry me a river! Your the cop here aren’t you gonna do it but instead you’re just laying under me...shame on you Iwaizumi-san,” 

Silence  ... You saw how he looks down and saw sorrow at his face, seemingly remembers something, you hummed a growing smile on your soft lips.                 

“Ne, Iwazumi-san Do you remember the day Oikawa-san humiliate me?,”  

He snaps out his trace, then looks at you eyes as larger as the china wares.

“You didn’t help me back then, instead you let him do what he did to me,”

Rains started to pour, as the steaming car slowly deflates it’s flame little by little by an hours. Hajime’s heart dropped at the statement.

Yes, It’s true he did only watched.

 He just...didn’t know

He didn’t know what to do If he did help you back then.

Because of a certains rumors that you seduce your father, your uncle, other male students in any campus. That’s what Oikawa made up, He thought realising it.

You rejected Tooru because you view him as a brother only and nothing more.

“Isn’t because of Oikawa...was it?,”

“All of that wasn’t true SHUT UP!!,”

Unrealising you let him go and back yourself away from him, giving Hajime to sit up then slowly stood. He saw suprising seeing you hitting your head, slapping and punching your head. Snot and tears and all, pulling your hair out, heavily breathing then whimper and cries. Hajime was about to approach you giving the comfort you deserve, you  deserve long time ago that he was going to give if he helped you.

But being a fucked out mentally ill you are, Throwing your head back flash of lightning. Red eyes and nose all bloodshot. Wet Hair stuck on your face.

“FUCK THEM ALL FOR BEING NAIVE ASS BITCH THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!!,”

“Y/n I-,”

All of the sudden a hooded man engulf you in an embrace then took  you, jumping in each delivering cubes. But before he left, he shot Iwaizumi by the calf making him grunt then kneel down to hold where the shot is.

“IWA-CHAN!,”

Oikawa runs afront of him, and by anger he tried firing his bullet back at the hooded man but failed when he fired back to disarm him then fled at the scene.

“That bitch had company I see... Iwa-chan are you alright,”

After the rage diminished into concern laced tone, he pulled Iwaizumi up throwing his arm over his shoulder. Gazing in greater concern at him.

Or Love, so to speak.

“Everything will be all right, Iwa-chan I already called back-up,”

Hajime grunt, he unlatch himself off Oikawa suprise at the action he give, he stumbled and winced but he then glared at Oikawa.

His heart ache’d at the facial expression, shattering to him into pieces.

“Get off me I can take care of myself, I’m not some type of baby being taken care of,” He explains, he took a second to look where you feld and the hooded man went, A breath escape his lips and just stumble ahead.

when the back-up came, they help him guide back inside the ambulance.

“I told you I can take care of myself! Lay off!!,”

“Japan needed you Iwaizumi-san...So you’ll be needing our guidance for now,” The medic discipline and explains The Cop as he guided Hajime at the back of the ambulance.

He click his tongue before the paramedics lift him up in ease onto the ambulance.

Oikawa on the other hand, chocolate-colored eyes darkens at the moment of Hajime's pained expression when he taken the bullet that strike his calf.

And the sorrowfulness of his face when he was about to hug you.

His staring directly at your self-hate state as if he was that main guy at a certain love story, but a fucked up one.

He wanted to comfort you so badly that he might forget you'll stab him by the back. He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white at point of view of your being.

But first he had to make sure you will be torture to hell where you belong.

"Oikawa-senpai! Is everything is going to be alright?"

A turnip head guy pops out, eye'ing in concern at the ambulance where Iwaizumi resides in, left the scene. Tooru took a deep breath, as he face his youngest colleague with that well-covered smile.

"It's alright! There's no need to worry! Cause' He will have the greatest care in the hospital... For awhile I think"

"Oikawa-senpai... Your palms are bleeding"

Kunimi pointed out, staring boredly at the fresh wound that have his blood run down his fingers to his knuckles.

He hadn't realise in mad anger, he clawed his palm so bad at the thought of you gonna ruining Iwaizumi's life.

"Ahhh! My hand slipped in the strawberry jam! My bad hehe"

(；^ 3^）✌️even though it was rather darker than the sweet jam itself, Kunimi could tell it was a lie. He could tell the deep nail marks on his palm and blood mixing under his nails too.

"Uh... Okay I guess..." He pretend to buy it, much of Oikawa's satisfaction.

"Okay back to work! We need to investigate this piece of shit of a burning car!" He grin happily as he skipped towards the steaming car, not caring about the rain pouring down.

Hope you rot in hell Y/n dearest or else one touch on Iwa-chan and you are gone he thought with a deep frown thinking about you makes Oikawa sick upon his stomach but hopefully that one day, you'll be captured and rot in jail.

Or maybe suffer in death sentence because of the multiple crimes you make.

Hope you suffer He thought with sadistic grin.

-End P. T 1-

That was not I expected, but judge all you want all because of the grammar I've been working is still under- construction and I've been using writing stuff like this because of a certain mental stability I've got... Not all that set aside. Thank y'all for reading don't forget to leave a heart or not because due to my ungrateful grammar that make you sick... I'm sorry about that and I apologies for being born... Is all

-orangepurin45

#iwaizumi x y/n #slight iwaoi #first writing #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #x reader #criminalxpoliceau! #Minors don't interact #blood #imnervousethisismyfirsteverwritinghereintumblr #skskskksks #yandere oikawa

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Legend of the band; AU Ghost! Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well this is a story that's been going through my head for a few days. I was originally gonna save this before Halloween but I figure I just go ahead and post this now in case I lost it amongst all my other writings in the near future. So background on this story it takes place in present day and the band members of Queen are ghosts.  Now I want to also put this out, I've inspired the ghosts designs from Guillermo Del Toro's film Crimson Peak. So just type in how the ghosts look and you'll see just why I've made the boys ghosts different colors.

Warnings: Swearing, death, slight attempted of assault (ALWAYS ASK PERMISSION BEFORE YOU TRY TO KISS SOMEONE), some horror elements?, fluff and angst.

*EDIT 7-27-20* NEW PARTS DOWN BELOW!!!

Part 2

Part 3

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@platawnic​

@geek-and-proud​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@kairosfreddie​

@eileen-crys​

_________________________________________________________

It started off as a dare-pact that my friends wanted to do.  Every year around Halloween we try to do some sort of Halloween dare together whether it was going to a graveyard, using a Ouija board, or crashing a Halloween party in one of the upper class neighborhoods dressed as monsters and scare the shit out of them.

It was either one person or we would do it as the entire group and this year we decided to do our next Halloween dare as a group.  The ringleader of the group Aaron gathered us up in our private clubhouse (his basement) and we were all gathered around to discuss just what we were going to do.

“Right, I call this meeting of the Halloween dare to order.” Aaron proclaimed.

“So what’s the plan for this year?” asked Brandon.

“How bout we go downtown and scare the little kids at the daycare during their Halloween party?” suggested Jake.

“No that’s just cruel even for us.” Said Amy.

“I agree.” I added. “Besides you just want to do that cause you’re little brother’s gonna be there, right?”

“So what? The little asshole got me into trouble last week. He deserves some payback.” Jake hissed.

“Alright Jake settle down. Okay so we had Amy and Susan do the Ouija board last year.”

“Which I still don’t forgive you guys. I swear I think my house is still haunted.” Susan said.

“Oh I’ve got it!” Proclaimed Brandon.

“Lay it on us Bran.” Aaron said.

“Three words for you guys. Rockfield. Farm. studios.” At that point everyone went silent.

“ARE YOU INSANE!?!?” exclaimed Amy.

“Yeah Brandon do you want to commit suicide or something!? Do you hate life!?” Jake snapped.

“Brandon, why in the fuck would you suggest that?” I asked.

“Oh come on! We’ve done practically the same stupid shit every time. Yeah sure the Ouija board could do some serious things but never have we actually tried to go to a real haunted house. So why not Rockfield farm?”

“Wait, I don’t get it. What’s Rockfield farm?” Susan asked.  Susan was the recent member to join the horror crew when she moved here from Michigan. Almost no one wanted to speak that was until I finally told her the legend.

“Rockfield farm was used as a recording studio a long time ago. Like back in the 70’s. Anyway there was this up and coming band called Queen. You know the ones who made the song Killer Queen?”

“Oh yeah my mom still has her vinyl record of that album.” Susan said.

“Well anyway, in the summer of 1975 they went to record their next record. Legend says it would’ve been their greatest album yet. It could’ve really made them even more famous than they were. But—an accident occurred at that farm.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well that’s where the story gets a little iffy. There have been several theories throughout time on what happened.” I explained.

“One theory is that an electrical fire happened while the band was in the studio, and they couldn’t escape in time and ended up being burned alive.” Jake said.

“Another theory is that someone broke into the property and slaughtered the band mates in their sleep.” Amy said.

“A slightly different version to that theory is that it was actually the band’s assistant that killed them in cold blood. Apparently he was in love with the front man. And in rejection he slaughtered the whole band before killing himself.”

“Whichever story you choose to believe in, it is said that the ghosts of the band members still haunt the property to this day. And anyone who has entered inside, is never seen again.” Aaron finished.

“Which is why not even I will go there.” Jake emphasized.

“Oh what’s wrong Jake? Don’t got the balls to make a drive up there and spend the night in the haunted farm?” teased Brandon.

“Shut up arsehole! At least I have balls.” Brandon was just about to pounce on Jake when Amy stopped the two of them by pushing Brandon back onto the floor and I said.

“Look, I thought it was foolish enough to go to the graveyard at night. But this—this is foolishness. No way am I gonna be possessed by a ghost or anything like that.”

“You know what you guys are all chicken!” Brandon exclaimed. “We’ve done almost every single Halloween dare known to man and you lot are scared to go to a little haunted house in the country and spend the night there.”

“He’s right.” Aaron finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry what?” Amy snapped.

“He’s right. We’ve been pulling out the same stuff every year but with different people. There’s no real haunted places here in the city but Rockfield is the closest thing we can get to.”

“Thank you!” Brandon exclaimed.

“Aaron, I swear to god if you make me go to that place we are finished! Do you hear me finished!” Amy snapped as she walked right up towards her boyfriend of 3 years.

“Sorry babe, I’ve made my mind up. We’ll leave in 2 days. Meeting adjourned.” Oh god what has Brandon done?

Later that night I was staring up at the full moon from my window when my nana came in.

“I thought I had told you to go to bed sweetheart. You’ve got school in the morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep nana.” I said solemnly.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” she said as she came up and sat down next to me.

“Just something my friends want me to do.”

“Those troublemakers that always make you trespass on private property? Or crash a party? Honestly (y/n) I don’t know why you hang out with kids like that.”

“They’re my friends nana. They always got my back when I need them.” She sighed and surrendered.

“Alright, alright. But what’s gotten you so rattled up?” now I couldn’t really tell her just what was going on.  She’d never let me go on a road trip to Rockfield farm so I had to think of something.

“They—they suggested going on a trip and…..I don’t like to leave you alone.” She smiled at me and tucked a strand of hair.

“Oh poppet. I maybe old but I’m not frail. How long are you planning on leaving?”

“It’s just for Halloween. We’ll be back the next day.”

“Okay then. Now even though I don’t approve of your friends behavior, I can’t stop you from going out Halloween night. Just promise you’ll stay out of trouble.”

“I will.” That’s a promise that not even I know how to keep. “And you’re sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, yes. And don’t worry, your father won’t hear a thing from me.”

“Really?”

“I’m his mother. I don’t have to tell him anything.” She winked at me. “Now go to sleep.” She lectured me before giving me a kiss goodnight and we both told each other I love you.

Two days later it was time.  Right after school, we all piled in Brandon’s RV and we drove the long drive to the country side to Rockfield studios.  Just as the sun was about to set, we finally arrived at the farm.

God it looks even more desolated and frightening than the pictures.  The entire housing was swamped with vines, weeds, and any other ounce that Mother Nature could throw at it.  The bricks at certain spots were chipped away or even rotting away (how that’s possible I don’t know).

We slowly walked up towards the main house and we just stood before it fearfully.

“Whose gonna go in first?” Amy asked.

“I vote our raining president of this idea Brandon.” Jake said.

“I second that.” Amy replied.

“Ditto.” Said Susan.

“Fine I’ll go in first.” Brandon said as he walked up the steps of the deck before standing before the front door.  He just stood there, still as a statue before Jake cried out.

“Well go on smartass and go in already!”

“I’m going I’m going!” Brandon snapped back.  He took the door handle and slowly opened the door which made an eerie creaking sound. He took one small step into the house before he was suddenly pulled in.

“BRANDON!” we all cried out.  Soon we all piled into the house and it was so dark you could barely make out what was in front of you.  The door suddenly slammed loudly behind us which made a few of us jump.

“Come on Brandon, this isn’t funny!” Jake called out.

“Brandon?” Aaron spoke up.

“Brandon seriously if this is a joke it’s not AHHH!!!” Amy spoke before suddenly screaming as something grabbed her.  We all soon began screaming before a laugh rang out.  Coming out from underneath a white sheet was Brandon.

“You guys should’ve seen your faces!” he laughed.

“You sick fuck who does that!?” Amy said as she began to punch him as hard as she could.

“That wasn’t funny Brandon.” I scowled.

“It was pretty funny!”

“Guys I think I found the light’s switch.” Susan said as she then flipped a switch on and soon the lights came on.

“Okay so we’re here now. Why not have a look around?” Brandon suggested.

“Man do you not know your horror film goofs!? If we split up, the ghosts will hunt us down one. By. one. Starting with the good looking comedy relief guy, me!” Jake proclaimed.

“Get a grip Jake! We’ll split up into pairs. Amy and I will go together and take the barn. (Y/n) you and Susan…..”

“Oh hell no. I can’t even stand to be near Brandon right now!”

“Oh what you a wittle scaredy cat Jakey-wakey?” Brandon teased.

“SHUT UP!!!”

“Alright! Jake you and (Y/n) go take the living room, and Susan you and Brandon can take the upstairs.” Aaron said breaking up the fight with the boys.  I rolled my eyes cause I knew Jake was gonna try to flirt around with me (he’s been doing that since the start of secondary school).

“I can dig with that.” Jake said as he came right up beside me.

“Do you seriously hate me Aaron?” I muttered before we finally split up.

Jake and I came to the living room and saw a small piano right there in the middle of the room, and jointed next to the living room was the kitchen.

“Pretty spooky huh? Just imagine if this piano started playing on its own. But no worries (Y/n), if you get scared you can hold onto me and I’ll protect you.”

“My hero.” I muttered sarcastically.  It was then something caught my eye.  I walked towards a table to see what looked like an old photo album.  I blew away the dust and wiped the cover to see the writing say.

PROGRESS ON LATEST ALBUM

“Whatcha got there?” Jake said as he came up to me and shined his phone flashlight down on the photo album.

“It’s an old photo album book.” Jake scoffed.

“Wow. The only person who has stuff like that are my parents. Man thank god we have technology nowadays. Otherwise no one would get to see my handsome face.” Why does this man even exist? Seriously I don’t see why all the girls on the cheer squad go for him?

“And what a shame that would’ve been.” I muttered as I opened the book up.

“I know right?!” I turned the next page and there were a few photos of Queen inside a recording studio of sorts and below it a caption that spelled,

AT HARD WORK WITH THE LADS. R.M.T.

“What does RMT stand for?”

“I don’t know. Could be some sort of acronym or something. Maybe initials for a name.”

“Well you’re an expert on all those old guys that existed back in the Medieval ages. What were the names of the band that died here?”

“It wasn’t the Medieval ages Jake. It was 40 years ago. And I don’t really know their names. I just know them as Queen.” I flipped to the next page to see a man with long black hair at the piano and the caption under that said.

FRED AT PIANO - Bri.

“Fred huh? He doesn’t look like a Fred to me. And who signs off with Bri?” I shook my head and continued to flip through the pages.  Each picture were of the band doing certain things while recording or just being around the farm, and each picture was signed with initials RMT, JD, FM, or BRI.  Finally the last picture was all four of them together.

“Check out the date.” I said.  In the picture it read 8-13-75. “This was taken the day when the band died.”

“Holy shit you’re right. They must’ve taken this picture just before whatever happened, happened.”

“They look so young.” I said solemnly.

“Yeah. But if they had lived they’d be like—our grandparents by now.” Suddenly I heard a voice.

No wait it was—singing.  I looked around trying to find out where the singing was coming from.  It was—beautiful. Hypnotic almost.  It was the most beautiful sound I ever heard.

“(/n). (Y/n)! Oi (Y/n)!” I was snapped out of it by Jake. “Jesus you looked like you were in a trance or something.”

“Was I? Sorry I….”

“No need to apologize. Hell if it was all about me, then maybe I’ll let it slid.” He said as he stroked up my arm.

“Jake! I’ve tried to let you down easy but please for the last time. I don’t like you that way! So stop with the flirting!”

“Oh c’mon (Y/n). What is there about me that you don’t like?” Gee where do I begin? “C’mon just give me a chance.” He walked closer to me but I tried to push him away.

“No Jake stop! Back off!” suddenly the fireplace just a few feet away from us ignited.  The flames reached as high as they could and call my crazy but I thought I could see someone’s face in the fire.  Jake jumped away from me and that’s when we heard the piano being played.

Play video

It was a random play on the keys at a very fast pace on the upper keys while also hitting a couple of the lower keys every now and then.  

“What the f—” the piano then hit a single key for a couple of beats before finally changing tune to that of a marching tune.  Like someone was coming towards you and you could just hear the beat of their footsteps.

Getting freaked out by the piano, Jake ran screaming out of the living room while I was just frozen in place.  The fireplace suddenly turned off but there was still some sort of light.  I slowly turned around and saw a yellow light ball shining right there.  But it wasn’t just some random ball or something.

This was some sort of spiritual ball because I could see smoke slowly dancing around it as it floated before me.  I wanted to run but I was either too scared or stunned by what just happened.  It was then I heard the singing come back, and it was coming from this spiritual matter in front of me.

And I don’t know how or why but—it made me feel safe.  Listening to the singing that came from this ball, it was like being wrapped up tightly in a warm hug.  Or sleeping in your own bed, like the weight of the world has been dropped from you.

I soon found myself walking towards the yellow spirit ball.  It moved backwards as I walked towards it.  It floated towards the fireplace and I wouldn’t have known if I weren’t in my trance-like state once again, but the fireplace opened up to reveal a long corridor.

*3rd Person POV*

As Jake ran on ahead he soon tackled into someone and that someone ended up being Amy.

“What the hell Jake!? Get off me you perv!”

“Guys! Guys! Guys! P-p-p-p-pi….pi-gh…..(y/n)…..”

“Stop your blabbering and tell us what happened!?” Aaron said as he forced Jake off his girlfriend and helped her up.

“Piano……playing itself. Fireplace……flames go up.”

“What’s he blabbering about?” Brandon’s voice soon spoke up as he and Susan came around the hallway.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Susan asked worriedly.  They all looked at Jake who still had a look of fright on his face.  They quickly raced towards the living room and they all gasped to see (Y/n) just about to turn right of the long corridor that stood them.

“What the hell!”

“Why did you leave her you dumbass!?”

“(Y/n)!” her friends tried to run after her but the fireplace soon closed back up and the flames were once again fully ignited.  Soon coming out of the flames was a pure white figure.

His hair was all curly and long like a poodle.  He wore a few necklaces 2-3 which were wrapped around his neck while the other one draped over his bare chest due to his shirt having a few of the buttons undone. But what had the kids most horrified was that this man was transparent.

Gentle wisps of smoke flowed from his hair, fingers, and even the cut along his cheek which seeped out small amounts of ghost blood.  His eyes which were a pure dark grey stared right at the young teenagers and he let out a haunting whisper.

“She belongs……to us!” at that phrase the teens all screamed and ran off.  The girls ran towards the backway while the boys ran up the stairs.  The girls raced out towards the barn and hid underneath a hay cart.

“Was that a……” Susan started off.

“No! It couldn’t have been! It’s impossible!” Amy exclaimed in denial.

“Oh it’s entirely possible.” A male voice soon spoke up.  They slowly turned their heads and saw another ghost.

Unlike the one they saw earlier, this one was a blue spirit with haunting ocean like eyes.  His hair was long and flowing and he wore a smug grin on his face.  Susan and Amy were in gawk at this ghost. “Now, now ladies I know I’m a looker but there’s no need to stare.”

They then screamed as they tried to get out but just before they could leave the barn, the doors suddenly shut.

“Leaving so soon? Oh that’s not fair. Not before I’ve had the chance to know your names. God it’s been so long since female company have come to this farm.” Susan and Amy were terrified at the point.  They tried to get the doors open but it was all in vain.  

Suddenly they felt themselves being levitated up in the air and the ghost appeared before them and said in a low, haunting tone.

“And the three of us are gonna have such fun together.” Only the piercing, terrified screams of the girls echoed through the barn.

Back in the house, Brandon, Jake and Aaron all headed for the basement in one of the tightest rooms the house had.  They all panted heavily and Aaron said.

“Did—you guys see what I saw?”

“You mean that curly haired ghost that just said (Y/n) belongs to them. No.” Brandon said.

“Same.” Jake said. The room suddenly got colder than it was, so cold in fact that the boys could now see their breath.  It was then Jake suddenly felt something pick him up by his throat.  He squirmed in the grip of the invisible force.

“Jake!” Aaron called out but then suddenly he and Brandon were pushed up against the wall and they couldn’t move.  No matter how much they squirmed, they couldn’t budge an inch.  Suddenly Jake was thrown down onto the small rickety bed and that’s when he appeared.

A fully black ghost with long hair.  He looked younger than the last ghost they saw but there was something about him that felt—angry.  The young black ghost turned to Jake and his voice which was a soft, honey like tone say.

“If I remember, No always means No. No matter who it is.” He slowly crawled on top of Jake pinning his arms down. “But since you can’t seem to understand what it feels like to be in such a vulnerable position, maybe I should show you.” by the end of his statement his voice suddenly got lower, darker.  Almost sinister.

Through Jake’s eyes he saw as this ghost’s face actually morphed into the Devil himself. Burned and scarred with pure red and black eyes.  Jake screamed in pure terror.

*My POV*

I kept following the light as well as the voice.  The beautiful, soulful, most angelic voice.  God it was—almost inhuman of how this voice could sing.  With such gentleness but also control it when he belted out a note or a phrase.

The light ball quickly faded away and had now become a record player with an album that stood right up against it.  I slowly reached out for it and it read.

QUEEN

A NIGHT AT THE OPERA.

As I held it in my hands there was a moment where I heard screaming.  Wait my friends? They were……

“Play the record darling.” The voice soothed me.  I felt a gentle caress under my chin.  I closed my eyes and took out the record and placed it on the record player. “Play it, play it. You know you want to.” The voice continued to coo.  I turned the record on, lifted the needle but just before I could place it at the top the voice whispered to me again, “Lower.”

I adjusted the needle as the voice continued to whisper lower again and again softly in my ear.

“There!” it suddenly hissed out which frightened me and forced me to let go of the needle and soon a quartet of voices soon began to sing with no instrument backup.

Play video

My god. This……this really was Queen.  I mean I’ve only really heard a few of their songs but this was definitely them.  The way their voices melded together in perfect harmony.  The piano soon came in and I sat down by the record player and just took in this song.

I literally felt like my soul was being sucked out as the vocals took me on a trip.  Then the bass picked up as the leading front man started singing the song, the very voice I’ve been hearing from the spirit force earlier.

As the song continued to play and went on a brief instrumental break, I looked at the record to see just what this song was called because I hadn’t heard a single word that stands out except Mama.  I then saw a finger point to the second to last song.  I looked up and shocked to see one of the band member’s ghost right there with me.

His entire ghost form was the same yellow color as the spirit ball from earlier, his wild hair went down to shoulders and he had an overbite but somehow it worked on him. He looked pretty exotic (by that I knew he wasn’t from London, maybe India or something).  He nodded and gestured to the song again.  I looked down at it and read it out loud.

“Bohemian Rhapsody?” he smiled happily and soon a guitar solo came on.  But along with that, I heard the same guitar playing the same notes, almost as if—holy shit!

A curly haired pure white ghost soon held a red guitar and began playing the exact guitar solo right there.  I turned to the ghost beside me who was still smiling devilishly and he gestured for me to look back at the guitarist.  As I watched the white ghost play the guitar, I was amazed and mesmerized by how he played the guitar.

As a Classic Rock fan I’ve seen the greatest guitar players such as Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Alex Lifeson, and Eddie Van Halen, but this guy—this was unlike anything I’ve ever seen a guitarist do or even play.  It was like his guitar was actually singing a solo, instead of just being an instrument.  Like it was a person, and she sang beautifully.

The song then went quiet as the lights went out and only a single piano note was now playing over and over.  Soon the silhouette of the ghost that led me here stood before me as a single spotlight hit him.  And I don’t know whether the vocals suddenly turned off or whatever but I could actually hear singing right there.

Next thing I know, the yellow and white ghosts are now joined up with a soft blue and pure black ghost.  The four of them standing together in like a diamond shape patter with the yellow and white ghost at top and bottom respectively, the blue ghost was on my right while the black was on the left.  

The four of them once again jointed in a quartet harmony before suddenly their voices boomed out like a canon firing.  And I know it sounds crazy but I swear I think they duplicated themselves about a dozen times to get that full powerful choir sound.  The blue ghost then started to sing in a really high falsetto tone while the yellow ghost backed him up on the lower range before making his voice waver.

This pattern continued as the front man sung again softly and then the other three ghosts (or copies) backed him up.  Wow this song it’s—literally unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.  The way it started soft before BAM exploding right in your face. Just like an Opera.

I bopped my head along to the beat softly to the beat and then when the rock out section came on. I’ll admit I banged my head as hard as I could (may come to regret it later but I didn’t care).  The setting soon changed to an actual rock and roll concert stage and I saw all four of them up on the stage.  

The black ghost on bass, the blue playing the drums, the white playing his guitar and the yellow one center stage, well more like everywhere as he strutted around and sung as loudly as he could.

I smiled and stood up and couldn’t help but jump up and down as I rocked out along with them. The yellow ghost soon went back to the piano and began playing it and as the four ghosts vocalized softly, the song slowly died off the hard rock and grew soft once again.  The yellow ghost sang the last verse as the piano solely took over now just before the white ghost played his guitar for the last time.

Then when the soft bang of a gong, the song ended and the room went dark once more.

“That’s it? Oh come on please that can’t be the end of the song!” the lights soon came back on and I now found myself in a recording studio.  The four ghosts all standing there.  The yellow one came up to me with a soft smile and gently touched the center of my forehead with his index and tall fingers and I felt this warmth come over my yet again.

“We’ve got more songs than that dear, believe me. But this is the one we’re most proudest of.” His normal voice spoke to me.  

“It was either that or I’m in love with my car.” The white ghost groaned out.

“I told you before Brian it’s a metaphor!” the blue ghost snapped.

“After all these years Roger it’s still unusual. What exactly are you doing to that car?” the black ghost sassed.

“Ignore him darling. He’s just a little peeved that after all the fussing and locking himself in a cupboard, his song didn’t get the chance to go on the B side to our single. Which is my masterpiece.” The yellow ghost told me.

“Umm…..not to sound cruel but, I mean I know you guys are Queen but uhh—what are your names?”

“Oh yes that. Silly me. You my darling may call me Freddie Mercury.” The yellow ghost introduced himself with a twirl.

“Brian May. Thank you again for giving us a chance to show you our hard work.” The white ghost introduced himself.  Wow he sure was polite.

“Roger Taylor. And I must say my dear, you are quite adorable, especially when you let loose and rock out.” The blue ghost gave me a wink.  Normally I wouldn’t give flirting a second glance, especially after Jake’s insistent flirting, but for some reason I couldn’t help but blush at his compliment.

“Please forgive him. He always goes crazy over a pretty girl. John Deacon it’s lovely to meet you.” The black ghost said as he gave me a greeting bow of his head.  Freddie, Brian, Roger and John, these guys were the men behind Queen.

“It’s—an honor to meet you four. I’m (Y/n). So—all the times people have been coming into the studio, all you wanted was for someone to listen to your album?”

“Yes, but no one would stick around. All because we’re ghosts.” Freddie whined as he pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And you were the only one who had any sense of musical taste.” Roger pointed out my Hendrix shirt.  I rubbed the back of my neck and said.

“Yeah, kinda a music geek. Mostly through classic rock. But none of my friends—oh my god my friends! What did—those screams from earlier. What did you guys do to them?!”

“Take it easy lovie, your friends are safe and unharmed.” Roger assured me.

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean minus the fright we might’ve caused them, they’re completely fine. They’re passed out in that van of yours outside right now.” Brian said.

“Though Deacy dear, I must admit you truly traumatized that one young boy earlier. I could barely keep my hold on (Y/n)’s mind to bring her here cause of the screaming you had that boy doing.” Freddie said.

“Who? You mean Jake?” I asked.

“What he did to you back there. It—wasn’t right. If a woman says no, it means no.” John growled softly.

“Thanks John. I’ve tried telling him for years I never once liked him like that, but any chance we’re alone he tries to come onto me. I was getting sick and tired of it.”

“Well not to worries dear, I think from what John did to him, he’ll never bother you again for a long time.” Roger said as he ruffled John’s hair up.  John pushed his hand off his head and he came up to me and asked.

“You sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m fine, really. I’m okay.” He sighed in relief.

“Hey guys,” they all looked at me giving me their full attention. “I—I don’t mean to get personal with you all. But uhh��…How did you guys…..forget it. You don’t have to answer it. It’s probably none of my business.”

“It’s not? Then why so interested?” asked Brian.  He didn’t ask it out of annoyance, I could genuinely hear the concern in his voice.

“Well I was gonna ask, how did you guys—you know……”

“Die?” they all said together.  I nodded.

“Well dear as much as we would like to tell you, we can’t.” Freddie said.

“Yeah I get it. I mean if I were in your shoes I wouldn’t either.”

“It’s not that (Y/n).” John said.  I looked at him confused, “See while we remember some parts of our lives as humans. The day we died—that part’s fuzzy.”

“For decades we’ve tried to remember what had happened but every time we try it just—doesn’t come around.” Brian finished.  Oh wow I never knew that that could happen when you become a ghost.  Not knowing how you die and have to remain here on Earth.

“Tell us dear, what all has been said about our deaths?” Freddie asked me as he leaned sat down on the chair and rest his chin on his hand.

“Well there are several theories. The ones I know about are an electrical fire in this studio and you guys being trapped inside.”

“Sounds boring.” Freddie bluntly stated.  The other three looked at him questioningly.

“What else?” asked Roger.

“Well another theory is that someone snuck in and massacred you guys. Some people even go into detail about the homicide and what happened to each of you. I—I was honestly heartbroken hearing that and cried.”

“Aww you sweet thing.” Freddie and Roger cooed.

“A slight alteration to that theory is that it was a—day to day manager you guys had was the one to kill you guys.”

“Oh him. Well we’re proud to say he’s no longer with us anymore.” Roger said.

“I think I remember that he also died along with us. And if he did, he’s right where he belongs cause we haven’t seen him since our death. Thank god.” said John.  I softly smiled before letting out a soft yawn.

“It’s getting late, you should get some sleep.” Brian said to me.

“Where can I sleep at?” I asked.

“You could pick one of our old rooms.” Roger suggested.

“Just hope you don’t mind sleeping on rickety old beds.” Brian softly laughed.  I softly laughed and said.

“Okay uhh…..John do you mind if I take yours?”

“Not at all. Follow me.” I followed behind him and we walked out of the recording studio and back to the main house.  He walked down the steps to the basement and he said, “Just a word of warning, it’s small and it gets colder than the other rooms. You sure you still want it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” We came to the bottom of the steps and I saw that it was indeed a tiny room. Kinda reminded me of my childhood room when my parents and I were living in a small flat.

“Again I apologize, I didn’t choose this room. Yet I’m bound to it for all eternity.” He said as he placed his hand on the dresser but it went right through it. “Kinda the price for being the youngest and most forgetful member of the band.”

“I never thought that.” He turned towards me. “From the songs I’ve heard on your three albums, your basslines are unique and easily recognizable. Especially this one song uhh—god it’s been awhile since I listened to it what’s it called…..Lies?”

“Liar?”

“That’s it! That solo is phenomenal.” He softly smiled and thanked me.  I walked towards the small bed and tucked myself in suddenly feeling tired than I was before.

“Thanks again for allowing me to take your room tonight John.”

“Anytime. Sleep well (y/n).” I then shut my eyes and finally fell asleep.

*John’s POV*

I don’t know how to explain it.  Normally I’d never allow anyone to try and sleep in my room.  All the humans that have entered this farm whether on a dare or trying to discover the secrets of this place, I’ve made sure to keep out anyone by frightening them away.

But this young girl there was something—familiar about her.  Was she—no. No that’s impossible.  I’m crazy for even suggesting it, there’s no way that’s possible.  It’s a one in a billion chances.  I sat there in the corner of my room and watched her sleep, while trying to make sense on why I’m feeling this strange pull towards her.

*My POV*

2 weeks after that night, the guys actually gave me the Night at the Opera record and I was just amazed by all the songs it had, but my favorite song will always be Bohemian Rhapsody.  But there was another song called ‘You’re my best friend’ (written by John) that had a special connection with me.

Right now I was helping my nana with some reorganizing in the attic when I came across an old box of stuff.  I opened it up and was first greeted with some dust.  I let out a sneeze as I wiped the dust out of my face before pulling out a beautiful wedding dress.

“Nana! What’s this?” she climbed up the stairs and when she saw me, her face grew solemn. She walked up towards me and knelt down beside me.

“Now this is something I haven’t seen in years. This—was my wedding dress.”

“It’s beautiful.” I said as I stroked through the fabric.

“Yeah. But oh did I look like a balloon in it. I was pregnant with your father at the time I got married.” She went through the box and soon pulled out a photo album and opened it up. “See, this was me on my wedding day with—with your grandfather.” I looked down and I was shocked.

There was her and John standing together.  The two of them smiling as the picture was being taken.  Her back to John’s chest and his arms wrapped around her pregnant stomach.

“It was a surprise, the pregnancy. And we were incredibly young but—John praised about becoming a father. But then…….” She stopped and wiped away her tears.

“Nana are—are you okay?” she sniffled and dabbed her eyes and said.

“Yes. Yes poppet I’ll be okay. Sorry. It’s just—so hard, even after over 40 years. He was my best friend, the love of my life. I wish your father talked more about your grandfather to you. Oh he would’ve loved you soo much dear. Spoiled you rotten probably.”

Oh if only she knew. Wow so—my grandfather is John Deacon. Wow that’s—not everyone can say something like that.

“What….what was grandfather like?” I asked her.

“Well, we met way back in 1974 at a Disco club. My friends and I were out for a girls night out when—” she then proceeded to tell me the entire story of how she and granddad met and fell in love.

Hearing it from her own voice, it was like something out of a fairytale.  She and John really did love each other and it seemed like they would’ve stayed together forever had what happened to Queen not occurred.

“Did—the police ever tell you what happened?” I asked her.

“For years I tried to get them to give me an answer. But the case went cold and they just ruled it as accidental. I had to live with that heartbreak ever since. So I raised your father as a single parent because there wasn’t anyone like John Richard Deacon.” I leaned against her shoulder nuzzling her arm.

She wrapped her arm around my head and gave me a soft kiss to my head.  Together the two of us sat there and she told me as many stories as she could remember between her and John.

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[sneezedarling]

One of a Kind- MacCready/m!Sole Sneezefic (Fallout 4)

Hey guys! Sorry it took so long but I’ve written it. If anyone has any Fallout 4 or other video game requests send ‘em in! Anyways I hope you guys enjoy some allergic!MacCready.

MacCready usually agreed with the judgement calls Sole made, they were mostly sound, logical and fair in his eyes. But sometimes Sole was too curious for his own good. They had been walking through Diamond City Market, trading their loot from their travels for supplies and ammo when a guard had commented on The Museum of Witchcraft and how strange it was.

MacCready had immediately groaned as he watched Sole’s emerald green eyes light up at the prospect. Sole had shoved last of his ammo into his bag and stopped the guard to ask a barrage of questions and mark the location on his map. As they left Diamond City, Sole was still studying his PipBoy intently to work out the fastest route there.

“We’re not seriously heading there, right?” MacCready groaned.

Sole glanced up at him, “Why not? Maybe we’ll find something cool.”

“Or we’ll walk for days and find a creepy, crumbling building,” MacCready counters

He finishes examining his PipBoy and smirks, “C’mon, Mac, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Adventure doesn’t bring in caps.”

“Hey, I’m paying you what are you complaining about?” Sole objects, with no real fire.

It had taken a few months, but they’ve finally gotten to the point where MacCready says more than just standard agreeance in conversation and Sole’s sarcasm and witty commentary has become a light-hearted distraction rather than a point of annoyance.

MacCready just sighs and begins walking in the direction of the museum because sole leads, and he follows, that’s the deal.

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

It’s dusk when they approach the Museum of Witchcraft. It’s a large gothic building, looming and creepy by itself, but especially so in the fading light. MacCready glances at Sole who looks like a kid on Christmas and has to fight the smile working its way onto his face.

“C’mon, this is kinda cool,” he insists.

MacCready rolls his eyes, “Yeah, a big, creepy building, very inviting.”

Sole just grins and heads toward the back of the Museum, “stay outside if you want, I’m going to have a look.”

MacCready jogs to catch up with him only to stop short when he sees Sole’s boyish smile fade and become replaced by a hard frown as he reaches for the gun at his waist. The ground before him them is littered with the bodies of dead Gunners. As they loot the bodies, they shift into a familiar silence. Although Sole was all smiles and jokes usually, he was always dead silent when it got serious. It had taken some getting used to.

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

After listening to a horrifying holotape, they head inside. There’s a low rumbling that MacCready can’t identify, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The low visibility due to the darkness and copious amount of dust filtering through the air puts him on edge and he’s following Sole a lot more closely than usual. Suddenly, there’s an unmistakable and deafening roar from above them.

“And that’s a Deathclaw, so we should be going, right? Sole?” MacCready whispers, gently nudging sole, eyes trained on the rotting ceiling.

Sole shushes him and inches forward, trying to see through a hole in the floor above them. MacCready feels him flinch as there’s another roar followed by a loud thud as a dead body is thrown to the floor, mangled from the damage of Deathclaw jaws. Dust cascades down as the horrible noise of the Deathclaw finishing his meal fills the air.

MacCready draws in a fearful breath before realizing his mistake. The dust-induced tickle spreads through his nose immediately, his heart rate picking up as he scrunches his nose, desperately trying to quell the itch.

The Deathclaw above trudges away, sending more dust raining over them. MacCready’s eyes begin to water as his breath catches in his throat. Sole is blissfully unaware as he rubs dust from his own eyes and inches forward.

Sole peers through the floor for a few seconds before whispering, “If we catch it by surprise, we can avoid most of the confrontation. We might even be able to sneak past it to have a look, or we can go, I guess.”

MacCready reaches up and scrubs at his nose, breath hitching sporadically, “S-sole, you know I-ahhh I love a f-fight but whaa- what’s the point?”

“The Deathclaw will kill whoever strolls in here, how long until its someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Sole doesn’t seem to notice MacCready’s predicament as he examines the dismembered Gunner, scowl on his face.

MacCready curses internally at Sole’s stupid sense of civic duty as he pinches his nose closed but its too late, the damage is already done as the sneeze makes its way from deep in his sinuses to the tip of his nose, threatening to break the tense silence hanging in the air. MacCready’s heart skips a beat as panic rises, his sneezes aren’t known for being quiet and will certainly end in them being Deathclaw dessert.

He holsters his sniper rifle to give him better access to his nose. He clamps both hands over it, pressing down as hard as he can, a last-ditch effort of sorts. His eyes water so horribly that Sole becomes blurry in front of him. In his hyper-focused state, he’s completely missed whatever Sole just said.

“Mac?” Sole says as loud as he dares, turning to face him and doing a doubletake at his dishevelled state. “Are you…crying?”

MacCready glares at him through allergic tears, the angry gesture dividing his focus, allowing the sneeze to break free.

“Ngxt-chhhoo!”

Despite having both hands over his mouth, the sneeze is still moderately loud and if MacCready wasn’t desperately fighting the next sneeze, he would have been anxiously searching for a charging Deathclaw. Realisation immediately floods through Sole, and MacCready studies his face, waiting for anger, annoyance or even fear, just anything, but it remains blank.

MacCready’s breath begins to hitch again, eyes closing involuntarily. The heavy steps of the Deathclaw edge closer, sending more dust flying. The creature may not have heard the last sneeze but it would sure as hell hear this one.

It’s right above them. The itch is burning ferociously, MacCready can only hold out for so long. Sole’s face is still completely blank. Sole grabs MacCready’s arm and pulls him into a crouch position, pressing him between the wall and Sole’s body, so close that he can feel that rapid rise and fall of his chest as the Deathclaw footsteps stop, replaced by a low growl. The Deathclaw finally seems to be moving on when MacCready loses the battle.

“Hgxt-choo!”

Sole clamps a hand over both of MacCready’s to muffle the sneeze. It helps but both men grow still, waiting for any indication the Deathclaw heard it. When nothing comes, Sole takes one look at MacCready, who still has one hand covering his quivering nose and is trying to breath as little as possible, and roughly drags his arm dragging him back the way they came.

The heavy weight of guilt lands squarely on MacCready’s chest, but is pushed to the backburner by the infuriating itch that returns once again. MacCready knows that it’s not leaving anytime soon, especially not until he has sneezed properly and multiple times.

Sole glances back once more, an unknown emotion in his eyes, and proceeds to move faster, one hand on his rifle and the other dragging MacCready’s arm. As they near the door, MacCready gives in, his hands leaving his nose. MacCready sniffs hard, aggravating the itch, his mouth drifts open and his eyes begin to close as Sole shoves him out the door.

“Aaah- Act’choo! H-Hutch’oo! Ehk’tchoo!” MacCready sneezes so hard his hat shifts and falls off his head, exposing his chestnut brown locks.

Sole raises an auburn eyebrow, “Wow, holding all that in it’s a wonder you didn’t burst a blood vessel or something.”

MacCready half-heartedly gives him the finger as he tilts his head back, “Ha’choo…ehh…Ehk’choo!”

“Bless you…bless you,” Sole watches, face emotionless and arms crossed.

“Jesus C-Christ…Act’choo! I-“

“Bless you.”

“Sooh-Sole I- Ehktchoo…Ichhoo!”

“Bless you…Bless you.”

“I’m sorry…ihhhh…Itchoo…Act’tchoo..Het’choo! I should h-ha-”

“Bless you…Bless you…Bless you.”

“Ehk’tchoo! Sol-“

“Bless you.”

“Would you stop doing that! I’m tryin’ to freakin’ apologise here! I nearly go-ohh…got us both killed.”

Sole just blinks before bursting into laughter. Like a proper, full laugh that is almost non-existent in The Commonwealth these days.

MacCready sniffs hard, wiping the last of the allergic tears from his eyes. “What’s-snff-wrong with you? You get hit in the head or something?

“Could you imagine the story we would have had man? ‘Yeah we just walked in and were going to leave the Deathclaw but then MacCready decided to sneeze his brains out instead’.” He’s still laughing, an easy smile lighting up his face.

God he’s beautiful.

The thought slips into his head without permission, turning his face red. He knows he must look like shi- crap right now, puffy eyes, red nose and blotchy face but Sole’s looking at him like he invented the sun.

“I’m sorr- Ehk’tchoo!-”

“Bless you.”

“I’m also concerned about your mental state right now. Are you okay?” MacCready sniffs and scrubs at his nose a few times.

“Am I okay? Are you? You sure you didn’t pull a muscle or bruise something sneezing like that? You lost your hat!”

MacCready bites his lip, embarrassment tainting his cheeks. “I thought you’d be mad or something.”

Sole laughs again and MacCready feels a pang in his chest as he dusts off his hat and hands it to him, “S’not your fault and we’re alright, no harm no foul.”

MacCready just shakes his head as he plops his hat on, “You’re-snff! something else, y’know?”

“One of a kind,” Sole steps closer. “You should consider yourself lucky, maybe show some appreciation.”

MacCready leans against the wall, arching an eyebrow, trying to disguise the hammering of his heart, “Should I now?”

“Oh, definitely.” Sole leans in, lips grazing MacCready’s.

“I guess I can agree with that.” MacCready reaches for Sole and smashes their lips together.

#Fallout 4 #sneezefic #allergy #dust #MacCready #blessyou #sneezes

[crystal-soba]

hihi i hope you’re having a wonderful day filled with sunshine n rainbows !! 🌷✨ could you pls write dbd ghostface/danny johnson with daughter ! reader ? perhaps where he’s the killer in the reader’s trial ? ooo or maybe where she finds out what he does n she gets scared ? 🥺💛

Heck yeah

.Danny found you in an alleyway, no stereotypical basket and blanket. Just a crying baby on the cold hard ground, cold and sick. You must have been abandoned there was no way a decent human being could allow you to rot in a cold alleyway. Screw work today, he felt a pull. Some sort of connection to you, he didn't know why. He wasn't one for children or kids in general.

.When he picked you up your crying didn't stop but it did quite down. How long have you been here? You felt cold, too cold. He took off his jacket and wrapped you in it. You must be hungry and afraid. He started to run to his house, he would have to call his boss later.

.When he opens the door to the house you were still whining, he walked to the kitchen and stared at the fridge trying to find something for you to eat. He sighed and opened his flip phone and called his boss, his boss had a son so he probably had an idea of what to do.

.He was getting ready to go to the store, a big list of supplies needed to give a three month old baby a decent life and you still being carried by him. He realized just how much he was unprepared, no clothes, you were covered in dirt and horrible smells and still starving. He sighed as he poured you a small bath in the sink. He scrubbed all of the mess off of you, he made a make shift swaddle for you made of one of his old shirts.

.As he walked through the Walmart he noticed all the strange looks people were giving you. He was doing his best, he didn't really know where these maternal instincts came from but they felt like something in his life was going to change for the better. He would eventually sort out all of the papers and certificates later but for now he was focused of making you a bit more comfortable. He wouldn't say it but looking for cute clothes for you was fun. He didn't care what other parents said or looked at you, he was going to make your life amazing no matter what.

.Six years have passed from then. He had gotten a different job, working as a journalist. You were his sunshine, his everything. The first victim of his was your real parents. He wanted to show them their mistakes and wrongs, he mad sure their deaths were painful and slow. After that he found it made great headlines for stories. Killing had become a side job.

.You were his main attention at all times, he would make sure you never found out about his job. The things he did were never going to be found out by anyone, especially you. You moved to different states constantly, never being able to have friends. You didn't have any other family, no grandparents, or uncles or aunt's, just you and daddy.

.your new house was smaller than the last one, you had a small room you were driving you and dad while watching a movie. He sat with you for a bit before going to his office. His office was where he wrote newspapers and did his job. You weren't allowed in the room, you didn't know why but you didn't want to fight with your dad.

.Danny sat in his office gearing up to start the next job, he grabbed his camera, knives, and suit throwing them in a duffle bag. He walked to you "y/n sweetie, daddy has to go to work. There's MacDonald's on the table and remember. Bed is at 7:00. I'll be back in a few hours." He grabbed his keys and left after you nodded.

.As he was stalking a couple holding hands he took mental notes. It had been a few hours of walking around their house until now. He was stalking them back to their house. Then he would kill them, just a simple quick few stabs then run.

.After he killed them he took a photo. Before he was going to leave he felt a cold chill as black mist flowed from the doors of the house. When he looked up he heard running and saw blood covering the forset floors.

.It was a week. A week without your dad, he said he'd be back later. When was later? You started to pack a bag full of snacks. You knew he was either lost or missing. You could find him, you looked at the map and tried to follow the streets, it felt like a maze of building and houses. You looked back and forth between the map and the forest. Maybe he went in to write about some animals?

.As you walked deeper and deeper into the woods you ft colder and colder. A dark fog made it hard to see where you were. "Now why is their a child in my domain?" The voice was dark and creepy. You couldn't see anything Infront of you. "I'm...I'm looking for my dad." You were scared "Ahhh. And who is your father?" You scratched your head "His name is Danny and he has black hair with blue eyes." The person chuckled "My child are you sure you want to see him? Where he is a dark place, no one is allowed to leave." You clutched your bag and nodded. "Very well."

.You woke up in a forest your head hurt a little before standing up. "Daddy!?" You called out as loud as you could. You started walking around the forest. You bumped into someone, you looked up "Daddy?" The old man standing there was surprised when he saw a child. "Can you help me find my daddy?" Bill didn't know what to do, this was no place for a child "What does he look like him?" You pulled out the drawing "He's my dad. He has short black hair, blue eyes, uhhhhh he likes to write stories." Bills sat down, maybe Dwight? "Does he have glasses?" You shook your head.

.Bill walked with you while holding your hand, he doesn't know what to do. He can't leave you alone with that maniac running around.

.That maniac he was talking about was walking towards him, he told you to hide behind the tree. The man had a black robe and a dropping ghost face. You watched Bill, The man also had a sharp bloody knife trying to stab your new friend.

.Bill tried to fight him off. Successfully ripping of his mask, Bill stoped. It was exactly how you described your father. He was shocked.

.It was daddy! Be was here. You got up to see him walking out of your hiding spot. Just before you ran to him Bill was stabbed in the chest. You watched as Bill's blood hushed out of his chest, daddy sat up and wiped the blood off of the knife.

"Y/n?" Your eyes were giant as you breath had quickened. "Y/n what are you doing here?" You were scared no horrified. You watched your father kill Bill. Tears filled your eyes and slipped down. "Y/n it's.... Init what it looks...looks like." You started to run away still crying.

.Danny watched you run away from him. He fucked up to whole new level. How would he convince you he was still alright. He had to stop you before you hurt yourself. He ran after you, he can still hear the crying coming from you. He started to cry, you were scared of him. And it was his own fault.

.You tripped over a big rock tabling down. Danny caught up to you, he picked you up. Your face was dirty and scratched your nose bleeding. He hugged you tight not letting you go. "Y/n please. Daddy had to do it, don't be scared daddy won't hurt you." He was still crying. "Why....Why did you have to..." You cried stuttering. "Because if I don't, I don't get him I would be punished. And I won't get to see you again. Don't worry he'll come back. It's like tag." You wiped away tears. "Tag?" He nodded fast. "Yeah I have to get the other people so I don't get in trouble."

.It took a while for you to stop crying. "Why are you here." He shrugged "I don't know." He picked you up rocking you. You held onto him. "Is he...okay?" He had shakey breaths and nodded. "Can we go home?" He was unsure as of what to say "I...I don't know sweetheart. But it's okay, don't worry." You nodded holding onto him tight.

.You both walked through the woods calming down "promise me you won't hurt anyone." He nodded "promise." He would have to do it when you weren't around the trials. Wipe the blood off his suit and possibly have someone taking care of you while he was busy... Oh well everything would be okay as long as you were safe. He knew life wouldn't be the same here but he was fine with it. You would be fine without certain things like tv or movies.

.He let you sleep on him, not being able to run or chase after survivors with you in his arms was impossible. He'd have to let most of them go this time. He watched you breathe, you were so peaceful. He can't let anyone or anything hurt you. That was finnal. step up his game and work harder for you. he smiled while looking up at the moon, he looked at the drawing close to him.

.You were everything to him, his little ray of sunshine. He's going to do everything he can to make you happy. Even if he has to somethings he will regret. It's all for you, the one good thing he's ever done right by.

So how was this? I really hope you like it. Sorry if it took a while, my first request and I want to do more so hit me with em

#oneshots #scenarios #reader insert #ghostface

[just-some-random-blogger]

Angel Bride

SHINee Pirate!Lee Taemin x Reader Characters: Lee Taemin, mentions of Choi Minho Summary: Unwanting to get married, you stow away in a ship called Shinee, unbeknowst that it held the sea's worse pirates and the most viscous captain, called Sea Serpent. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Old-ye misogyny,  kinda graphic, fluff, smut if you squint, TYPOS cause they always escape me, etc.

A/N: once again i dunno how to write smut so ??? ALSO I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO THIS @skylions-den ASHDJEKSKNDMSOSOKSMSM and if pirate!taemin took you off guard bwahahHAHAHAHHA

The man gripped my wrist tightly, even through how weak he was in his fever. The man was thin, and surely if he was not so sick, he would twice more as handsome as he was now. “Are you a dream, angel? Am I dying?”

I knit my brows at the urgent, somehow demanding sound of his voice that contrasted to the expression he held. For a moment, I was confused as to how he wondered I could be such a creature, up until I saw his heavy gaze on my body. I found myself chuckling dryly at the white wedding dress clung around me.

How could I forget?

I shook my head, “No, I am stowaway on your ship, pirate. I did not want to get married.”

“Married,” his voice hardened, “To whom?”

I rolled my eyes at the memory and huffed, “Lord Minho of the Chois.” I think of the said man’s handsome face, broad shoulders and unmissable cruelty and discrimination, then scoff. “He wishes to tame me into becoming a perfect wife, or so unkindly put, a diligent maid.”

It was then that I found the sense to try and pull my wrist away from the man’s hand. I turned to him with knit brows and tried to soothe his anxiety over me, “I am only trying to help you?”

“Help me?” he chuckled and found a small cough in the end, “You are bad luck, angel of death.”

My face fell and I released a breath. “I already told you, I am no angel.” I tried to pull away again but with much more persistence. “I cannot believe with how high your temperature is, your head still has enough fight in it to blabber on about such senseless hullabaloo.”

It was then I finally got out of his grip.

I rubbed the captured area.

  Though he looked at me with such stark eyes, I continued on my initial actions of wiping his face with a towel and warm water. Now, how I got this towel, this warm bucket of water, and how I wound up in this sick pirate’s quarters are stories for another day for it is so unbelievably long and complicated.

I dabbed the man’s face with a lot more force than I had originally, just to put across the message I was not pleased with him. However, when he pulled a pained reaction, I found myself falling guilty and my motions becoming once again kind and gentle.

  I frowned at him and decided to speak, “You can throw me overboard, if you like, honestly. I have nothing to come home to nor to live for anyway at this point. Tell your captain I fear not death.”

The man found it in himself to scoff though I knew from how he sounded, his throat was not in good conditions. “You think the captain would pity you? Pah! He is the famed Sea Serpent, whose blades have slit the throat of his enemies.”

As he spoke, the man swatted my hand away from his face. I growled lowly and gave up on him wiping his face at this point.

I knew he meant every word he spoke about his captain. I had heard the terrible stories of this man who allegedly had only one eye left and one foot. However, I was only annoyed with his reaction.

Perhaps it was his soft and feminine features that made his words seem lighter, but I could not find it in myself to cower over them.

“Why do you treat my words as if I spoke in riddles, boy?” I raised my voice and threw the towel into the bucket.

“Boy?!”  he let out yet another painful scoff, “Women are bad luck at sea! You are probably the reason why I am sick in the first place.”

I let out a hearty laugh, “Ahhh, and I suppose your filthy kitchen and dirty handed cooks have nothing to do with it. Oh, and the fact your soup is made with spoiled ingredients doesn’t mean a thing, does it?”

“Ha! The food is rancid for you have cursed us, hag!”

“I cursed you? I suppose all thinking women are a curse to dim-witted men. Tell me, you leave your vegetables out to get wet by the water of the storm and rot, and yet you eat them! You should set them aside somewhere safe and dry.”

“The storm is your fault! The skies frown upon your face.”

“Alright, if that is true then explain how it has only rained two days ago and not on the start of our journey? If what you say truly is true, then the skies should’ve frowned on me since the beginning.”

“It is because you were hidden!”

“Hidden?” I laugh, “Hidden from what? I have not hidden that I am a woman once! And it was not as if a member grew between my thighs and fell suddenly, and now the sky is angry.”

  It was here the man fell at a loss for words. I find my insides smiling at his silence.

“What difference does it make a woman on land and on sea?”

“I get it, angel. Pardon me for not being learned.”

I pull my head back, “I am not learned! Women are not allowed to learn, shamefully. All I know is from experience. Everyone expects a woman to a good mother and yet no one will allow us to learn about the things our children might ask about.”

The quiet man looked at me for a long while, up until his eyelids grew heavy.

  “Why then, angel, do you help a sick, unlearned pirate?”

His eyes close in exhaustion and my lips part at his degrading statement. “You may be a pirate, but I am sure you have a family.”

He laughs, and suddenly his chest racks out a violent cough. My brows and hands rise in concern.

Once his barking subdued, he lets out a long breath, “I am an orphan. It is why I am a pirate.”

“… well your pirate ship will be one less pirate if you are gone. I’m sure they cannot like that idea.”

The man says nothing.

“I have always wanted to help the sick. My heart always bled for others and when my own mother was taken by a fever, I was determined to help those that I can and save their families from the heartache this illness brings.”

The man, I think, did not hear my explanation, as he had already drifted off to sleep.

It was then I stood from this stool I sat on and went to the other side of the dim, candle lit cabin. However, a hot hand on my wrist yet again held me back. “No, do not leave me angel.”

I turn to the man laid on his small bed and find myself smiling a small smile. “I will not. I am only sleeping over there on your pile of clothes.”

His eyes open and turn to me, “You have been sleeping in my pile of clothes? You must not have had a pleasant sleep at all.”

“Actually, compared to the nets behind your crates in the kitchen, it is far more pleasant.”

“Well,” he then shifts to sit, “sleep here. I have slept—“ “No! You’re still sick! And if I were to sleep there now, I would be sick too.”

He crumbles back on his back. I place my hand on top of his. “Sleep pirate, and gain strength to scare the storm away.”

“As you say, angel.”

As cold, harsh waves crashed against me, the memory as to how I wound up bound in the middle of this ship’s deck left me.

“A WOMAN!”

“A WITCH!”

“SHE IS THE REASON WHY THE SEA SPITS US OUT!”

  “How have you come here, witch!” a tall, bearded man spat in front of my face. The sea spat on both of ours. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Though I wanted to answer him, the water gushing to me choked the words back down my belly.

  “SHE IS WHY WE’RE SUFFERING!”

“SHE IS WHY OUR CAPTAIN IS SICK!”

There was a loud and angry roar amongst them, and there was a defining statement that got everyone into a riot. “THROW HER OVERBOARD!”

It was then they started cheering and grabbed either of my arms roughly. It felt that my shoulders were going to give in as they ungracefully but efficiently brought me to the side of the side.

However the loud and piercing shriek from the crow’s nest above made the men all around me turn to each other in fear.

“ROCKS! ROCKS! ROCKS EVERYWHERE!”

They started to panic amongst themselves, whether to throw me out quickly or do something else entirely.

  Then, the sky cracked into lightning and thunder and a man emerges into the storm, instantly getting drenched in rain and sea water.

“UNHAND HER AND GET TO YOUR STATIONS, CREW!” he commanded just as sternly as the sky poured its fury.

The men dropped me and I cried in pain as my knees collided with the floor. I shook out of my binds and then a man went in front of me. “I forbid a hair be hurt on my angel’s head,” he spoke, grabbing my hands and standing me up. “Go inside and dry yourself up.”

I placed my hands on his face and felt his unusual heat, “But you are still sick, being out here is—“

“I command you!” he shouts, grabbing me by my shoulder and leading me off anyway. “I am not to see your face until we steer away from this danger.

  I was shoved back into the room I met the man who had some questionable authority. I heard screams and shouts from outside along with the sloshing of water and patter of rain.

I jolted at the sound of thunder and found myself shivering in cold and fear. I whine and try to dry myself, but only find annoyance in the heavy, damp dress around me. And so I pull it off and wear a long shirt I found in the same pile I slept in. The room was dark for the candle had already died out.

I moved around and looked for a match box, once finding one, lit the only candle capable of being lit.

  Moments melted away in tension and even more screams were heard from outside.

Suddenly, the door to his place opened, catching me off guard. The figure stalked to me, and when the fire revealed his face, I realized who the drenched man was.

“We have steered…” he starts, however his eyes drift down from my face. It was then I realized his shirt did not do much in covering my chest. I placed my hand on my heart and pull back.

“Angel…” he speaks stepping forward, “you look… holy in my attire.”

I open my mouth but find nothing to protest back.

His eyes turn back to me, but they looked at me in a different way.

“There are no more rocks that endanger us, angel,” he says, stepping closer, removing the boots on his feet with the other. My own bare feet mimic his, only instead of moving forward, they move back.

He then lifts his shirt and throws it away, revealing his lean and defined torso that made my face heat.

“What are you doing?” I barely ask.

“I am trying to dry quickly,” he says, still slowly walking towards me, “may you aid me, angel?”

“I—“ my back hits the wall, “I have no clothes or towel to give you.”

  The man places his palms on the wall behind me by either side of my head and I feel my pulse quicken drastically. “I am indebted to you, angel. By your hand health has found its way back to me. I, Lee Taemin, captain of this ship, the terrible Sea Serpent thank you.”

My brows raise, “You—you’re the sea serpent?”

He chuckles darkly, “Why do you think they listened to me then?”

“But you are no older than I.”

“It is my youth and wit that makes me so terrible,” he answers, lips curving, eyes turning to my own lips. “Never have I seen such fairness and kindness in one being, my lady. I understand wholly why such horrible men are drawn to your light.”

At this point, his face was a matter of inches away from mine.

“I wish to kiss you,” he says, “make love to you, and make you my own bride.”

  My chest heaves heavily at his words.

His hand travels down to my side, just above my right him and my body feels electrified. “Angel, you are deathly cold,” Taemin says in concern. “I can warm you easily, if you let me.”

My breath hitches, “How many women have you seduced before, snake?”

He throws his head back slightly at my words and once he turned back to me, he moved in even closer. Now his breath was against my neck. “I have never had to seduce a woman before in my life.”

“Then-“ I say, forcing the shakiness of my voice down, “-you should start trying.”

  Taemin laughs, “How then should I begin angel?” he speaks lowly and then plants a hot kiss on my neck, making a shiver run down my spine. He chuckles and peppers kisses down my shoulder, pulling his shirt on my out of the way. His hands travel to my back and push me against him.

“You taste like the sea, angel,” he hums. His fingers press against my skin and run down from below my shoulder blades to the bottom of my derriere. And from my neck, Taemin pulls away and places his lips on mine. In between his breathing, he moans out soft words, “I take your lack of retaliation as permission, angel.”

He then pulls away, just enough so his hands could then travel upward from behind me, to the side of my hips, to my rips, to my breasts and to my neck. The pad of his thumbs caress my skin and attempts to sooth the juncture by my jaw. His fingers that rest behind on my nap entangle themselves in my hair. “You are now mine to claim.”

  Swiftly, I was brought to his bed and laid before him like dinner. A cold gust of wind tickles my stomach as he pulls the cloth around me off.

He proceeds to scold me when hide, “Nuh-uh-uh, no treasure to be hidden from my eyes, angel.”

He slowly creeps up to me and plants another kiss on my lips His hands secure my thighs around him. I gasp when I feel him against me, and he let out a laugh against my lips. “My precious angel, I shall treat you with as much goodness as you have shown me.” 

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[devilgoat]

The Saw is Family

((We’ll see if this stays up? Anyways so I decided to combine both parts together, so here’s the entire fic in its 18k+ word glory because I hate myself but also Love Bubba Sawyer with my entire being. Find other works under my “devilgoat writing” tag! Do you like my work? Then maybe consider following the link in my bio and buying me a Ko-Fi!))

You can find Part 2, “Blue Rare” under “the saw is family”/ “devilgoat writing” tag

Leatherface | Bubba Sawyer x Gender Neutral Reader 

Sweat. That is what hot Texas summers consisted of. Sweat, heat, and rot. Sweat on your face, dripping down your back, and soaking through your shirt. Sweat, heat, barren landscape, rotting road kill. Road-tripping across Texas in summer was unpleasant, to say the least. What made it more unpleasant was the annoying company stuffed inside this tiny little car along with you. 

Summer break had begun for your university and it was time to head home. Unfortunately, home was 8 hours away and the road there led through the most boring, barren landscape you could imagine. Dry, crumpling hills made of rocks and dust littered the scenery on either side of you. And honestly, you would have preferred to be out there in the hot sun than the sweltering, stuffy car that had become a cage for you. You had needed a ride back to your hometown, and with no money, no car, and your family too busy with work and other things to come get you; your only option was Lana. See, Lana didn’t have a car either, but she did have a boyfriend, Sam. And Sam had a car. Turns out, both you and Lana were from the same town, and if it weren’t for that little piece of trivia, you wouldn’t have been caught dead in this car with the two of them.

To say that you weren’t friends with them would be an understatement. Sam was famous around your university, but not for the best reasons. Known to lie, cheat, and steal to get ahead, he was also known for sneaking into the university’s library to fuck his current hot date of the week on the second floor. During finals. In the middle of the day. He wasn’t very likable. Sam had also apparently never grown out of his high school bully persona because he continued his harassment and bullying far into his academic career. He took pleasure in it. His current paramour just happened to be Lana. And you knew if summer break had started just a week earlier or later, you wouldn’t have had this ride to begin with. And Lana? Well, she was something else. Known to acerbic, arrogant, and also just plain unhelpful during group projects, she had once forced her former roommate to move out because she wanted the whole room to herself. She drove the other girl partly insane over the course of weeks by cutting out her hair while she was asleep and then telling her that the stress of school was killing her. So yeah, it was fair to say that she wasn’t well liked. The only reason you knew this was because you were acquaintances with the poor girl she had roomed with, and she was just too tired with dealing with it to report her suspicions to the bureaucratic student affairs board. It was definitely not the place you had preferred to be in. But Lana had a ride and you both knew that you were from the same place. And now you were here. Your sweat had soaked through the entire front of your shirt. To be honest, you weren’t particularly excited to go back home, but you had nowhere else to go. Sam was driving, Lana in the passenger seat, and you in the back, stuffed with all the luggage. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and you weren’t even through the first three hours of driving. “Ahhh shit,” Sam muttered. Oh no. “What is it?” Lana asked. “We’re almost out of gas,” He sighed and lifted one of his hands off the wheel and ran it through his hair. “I thought you said you filled it before we left?” “Yeah I did! I did...say that.” He was silent for a moment but turned to Lana, not caring about the empty road ahead. “Awww come on it’s alright. I’m sure there’s a gas station somewhere close by. There has to be!” Lana pouted in her seat. Sam reached over and grabbed her chin, while making cooing sounds. “Awww are you mad at me?” His voice was thick with patronization and it made you sick. Lana laughed and slapped his hand away. “You better hope there is or you won’t be getting any tonight.” “Hey uhh,” you interjected for the first time. “I’m still here.” “Oh right, you.” Lana laughed and gave you the gift of faux embarrassment. She turned in her seat to face you and gave you a wry smile. “Sorry, I just get carried away sometimes.” You have a polite, curt smile and turned to look out the window. You knew she enjoyed watching you squirm. It was entertainment for her too. She and Sam were perfect for one another. You felt the sneaking sense of dread settle in the depths of your stomach. Now your worries were less about surviving this trip and more about finishing it at all. Without any gas, the three of you would be screwed out in the middle of nowhere.

“You know,” Lana began, “Sam and I were going to stay at his place for the summer. His family owns this great house by the lake. But when I heard you needed some help I thought, why not? I haven’t been to town for a really long time.” You wondered if she hated her family or if her family hated her.

More dry rolling hills and nothingness. And then suddenly, like a mirage, a black dot appeared on the horizon. It wavered and sputtered in the heat, until it slowly grew and solidified on the side of the road. A hitchhiker? Yes, you were closer now and you could clearly see the hitchhiker off in the distance. You straightened up in your seat and stared him down. “Hey look at that guy!” Lana exclaimed. She pointed at the man in the distance and squinted her eyes. “He looks...weird.” A bit closer to him now and you could see what she meant. His movements were erratic, and you could barely see the manic smile across his face. He had his thumb out, asking for a ride, and it felt...wrong somehow. His shoulders were shaking with what appeared to be laughter. A chill ran down your spine as you felt the car begin to slow. “Wait!” You shouted at Sam. “You’re not actually stopping are you?” “Ahhh what’s the harm?” he responded. What’s the harm? Really? The car stopped right alongside the hitchhiker, and you were able to see clear as day how off-putting he was. He had a large red birthmark on his right cheek. It looked like blood. A camera hung around his neck along with a small pouch made out of some unknown animal. Lana rolled down her window slightly in order to hear him. He spoke quickly, as if he were in a rush or high. “Hey, man, mind if I catch a ride?” “A ride where?” Lana asked. “To my house! It’s just up the road there!” “Well why don’t you keep walking?” Lana sneered at him and Sam followed suit. The hitchhiker hesitated to answer the question. His face twisted in confusion and eventually defaulted into the same, off-putting smile. “Come on! Just give me a ride! I’ll make it worth your while!” To your absolute horror, he turned to face you in the back seat. His smiles grew wider as he noticed you for the first time. “Oh yeah,” he muttered. “I’ll make it worth your while.” You shifted in your seat and turned away from him. You could feel his eyes boring into you, prying you open and digging his hands inside. It was silent for too long as the hitchhiker waited for a response. He took in a breath to speak once more when Sam broke through the silence. “Yeah, umm...” he began. “The thing is, friend, we’re in a bit of a rush and running out of gas and we’d just like to get home.” The hitchhiker seemed to perk up at the mention of gas. His back straightened, and he tried to hide the glee on his face, and failed miserably. “Oh I uhh, I know a place! Yeah! Right up there! By my house! I can take you there if you want, just give me a ride!” Lana and Sam exchanged a knowing look, one that you had no part in. Lana turned to the hitchhiker and exaggerated her thinking process, letting out “hmm”s and “uhh”s and pressed a finger to her chin, her eyes rolled upwards in “thought”. “Hmm,” she “pondered”. “Nah! Good luck and don’t die!” Lana burst out laughing as soon as the engine revved. Sam slammed his foot against the pedal and you lurched backwards with the speed the car propelled itself away with. The tires squealed and kicked up dust. Once you regained your balance, you turned around in your seat to watch the hitchhiker fade away behind you, shrouded in dust. ——— “God, he was such a creep, wasn’t he?” Lana had a look of plain disgust and mockery as she asked this. She turned from Sam who nodded and laughed and turned you. She expected an answer. “Yeah I guess,” you said, forcing a fake smile. You agreed sure, the guy was a bit weird, but did he really deserve to be shit on like that? You tried not to dwell on it. You were long gone now, and the car was getting dangerously low on gas. Everyone was searching the shimmering horizon for some sign of civilization. You turned to your right and saw a dead armadillo on the side of the road. Your heart felt a pang of grief over the rotting carcass. It was a cruel world, you knew that, but you still felt like an innocent animal would be exempt from it. Just a few moments after seeing the poor armadillo, you spied a building between two rolling hills and a cluster of sad trees. A thin road stretched and winded towards a large sign that read “GAS” in thick, red letters. “Wait!” You shouted. “Down that road there!” Both Sam and Lana were shocked out of their concentration by the sound of your voice. Your frantic pointing gave the hidden road away and Sam jerked the steering wheel in order to make the curve in time. Both you and Lana held on as best you could, and your chest strained against your seatbelt. “Ow, fuck!” Lana yelled. She righted herself and smacked Sam on the arm. “You asshole!” Sam burst out laughing. He always worked best when he was able to get a rise out of someone. The car rocked over the unpaved, bumpy road. It took all you could not to bang your head against the ceiling. Lana was a bit less lucky. She hit her head quite hard against the window and cried out in pain. Sam ignored her. “Slow down, asshole!” She yelled. “Do you want to get gas or not, huh?” A few more hours. Just a few more hours and you would be home and you wouldn’t need to deal with this anymore. You didn’t want to be around when their relationship exploded. And it would undoubtedly explode any minute now. The car bumped and rocked up to the gas station, and came to a stop by one of the old, rusted pumps. “Last Chance Gas” was up in large red letters above the entrance to the small station. It was dirty and seemingly abandoned. Sam stepped out of the car and called out. “Hello! Anyone in there?” He quickly ducked his head in the car window. “Lana, come with me.” In response, Lana pouted and angrily shook her head, her arms crossed against her chest. Sam sighed and called out once more. You could tell he was getting exasperated. Right as he was about to call out again, undoubtedly louder this time, a man emerged from the station’s front door. You felt like if the gas station were a person, it would look exactly like him. He was older, worn out, his clothes were slightly grimy, and his hair was greasy, or at least what was left of it. You rolled down your window in order to hear what he and Sam were saying. “Hey, man, were almost out of gas here and we’ve got somewhere to be. Fill her up will ya?” Even when asking a stranger for their service, he couldn’t help but sound like an absolute douche. “Well, sorry about that, son,” the man said, “We’re all out of gas.” “You-you’re out? Of gas? You’re a gas station!” “I’m well aware of that, son, but we won’t be getting another shipment until the end of the day.” Sam groaned in response. The man brought up a placating hand. “Now, you’re allowed to wait here until then, if you like.” “No!” Sam almost shouted. He took a breath and calmed himself down. “Listen, is there another gas station around here? We need to be moving.” “Read the sign.” The man pointed up to the red letters behind him. “Alright then fuck this,” Sam said. He made his way back around to the driver’s side. “I’ll take my chances.” Before the man could get another word in, Sam was revving up the car and continued down the road ahead of you. “Wait, Sam,” Lana began, “Let’s just wait! If they say it’s gonna be in at the end of the day then let’s just stop here.” “I am not going to be sitting in this damn hot fucking car for who knows how long. We’ll just keep going. There’s GOT to be someplace ahead. It’s just a marketing tactic with that whole “last chance” bullshit.” Both you and Lana knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Sam got what he wanted when he wanted. And you in particular did not want to find out what happened if he didn’t. And he was probably right. There had to be a place somewhere ahead. You settled into your seat in a puddle of your own sweat. You were just thankful that the window allowed just enough of a breeze in to keep you going. You could feel the car start to sputter and slow as the needle drew closer and closer to the E on the dial. Sam’s knuckles were growing white against the wheel as his nervousness grew. You were wary of his eventual explosion, and there didn’t seem to be any salvation in sight. The sun was an unrelenting presence that was slowing siphoning away your energy, and soon enough you were in a daze. Your eyelids were growing heavy from the sun, the heat, and the road. Before you knew it, your body was asleep and finally able to let go of the tension set in your muscles. It would have been peaceful, if you were not robbed of it just moments later. “Look!” You heard. Your sleep-addled mind couldn’t process what was going on at first, but once your eyelids forced themselves open, you started to wrap your head around it. Lana was pointing towards the side of the road, trying to get Sam’s attention. The sun was in your eyes, so it took a moment to see what she was seeing. Amongst the trees and dusty hills was a very narrow road. And past the tree line and into the depths of the forest, you could see the roof of a very large house. “Maybe they’ll have some gas?” Lana hoped. She looked over at Sam and begged him with her eyes to pull over. He let out a strong and obvious sigh, but did not say a word. The wheel spun and the car turned onto the gravel road. Trees immediately flanked either side of the car and you could barely see past them, even in the sunlight. The rooftop grew larger and larger in front of all of you. It grew and grew like a menacing giant, ready to eat the three of you whole. The eye-like windows glared at you as they came into view. The poor house was incredibly run down. It seemed to slump into itself, sad of its own existence. The white paint was chipping off the exterior, which made the cracks look like veins spreading across its hide. The house was a creature, alone in the forest. What concerned you was that you didn’t know if it was alive or not. The car came to slow stop in front of it as it rolled over overgrown grass. Sam turned the engine off and stuffed the keys into his pocket. “Alright,” he said. “I’m gonna go check and see if they have any gas to spare. They must have some kind of generator or something way out here. I’ll be back.” Sam made no effort to invite you or Lana, so you made yourself comfortable. Or as comfortable as you could possibly be in the sweltering heat. Sam was halfway to the front door when Lana was suddenly spurred into motion. She climbed out of the car and ran after Sam. “Wait!” She called. “I’ll come too.” And like that you were left alone in the car.

Climbing over a small set of stairs, they stood by the door and knocked and called for several minutes. You were resigned to the house’s clear abandonment, but Sam thought he heard something. You could hear it faintly as well. He pulled the screen door open and stepped inside, with Lana glued to his side. You watched them enter the house’s maw. They disappeared into the darkness behind the screen door and you waited. You waited and waited and waited until you felt an unreasonable amount of time pass. They shouldn’t have been gone for this long. If they hadn’t found anyone, they would have come back out by now. If they had, they would have brought them out to the front with gas. Maybe it really was empty and they decided to take some “time together”. You groaned to yourself at their obnoxious behavior. Could they really not wait until they were back home to have their foray? Here you were, in the back of a suffocating hot car, waiting while these two jerks finished pounding one out. As time went on, you were a bit surprised with their stamina and the fact they had been at it for so long. Finally, enough was enough. They had been gone for so long that you didn’t care what you walked in on, as long you got kick them out and get you all going again. You threw the door open and slammed it behind you, hoping it would signal to them that you were on your way. With your feet in the grass, you realized how unkempt it really was. You saw small bugs jump off of the tips of grass and run off further into the vegetation. There was no way this house was inhabited. There was no sign out here that anyone had lived here for years. You climbed up the short, creaky steps onto the porch. You entered a bit of shade and felt an immediate relief. You allowed yourself to rest in the partial darkness for a few moments before you braced yourself. The screen door was in front of you, beckoning to you. You pushed it open and entered an even hotter, note sweltering environment. The house was tight and closed in. Dust had collected on a lot of the surfaces inside. It was dark, with only the natural light that flowed through the cracks in the closed windows allowed you to see inside. “Lana? Sam?” Your voice spread into each nook and cranny of the house. “Hey, you guys, come on!” No response. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you walked down the small hallway in front of you. The stairs before you called to you, but it would be better to check the first floor before anything else. A large steel door was at the end of the tight hallway. It seemed out of place in this home. It looked like it would be more at home in a slaughterhouse than here. You tried to open it, but it only jingled against its lock. You left it alone for now and turned left towards another part of the house. You called out once more to your traveling companions, but still there was no answer. You figured you would be hearing some type of moaning by now, but the house was passive in unsettled quiet. And then you heard it. A small squeal in a back room that was unmistakable for Lana. You followed the sound as best you could. You turned a corner and your feet stepped on something strange. It was soft and fluffy, but a hard piece lay in the middle. Your foot rolled over the object as it clattered away. You looked down. You were stepping on feathers. Piles and piles of loose feathers and…bone. The object that rolled away was a thin, bare bone. And there were more of them. Everywhere. Bones on top of more bones scattered and dumped without a care. Your body froze in place. You felt yourself begin to sweat, but the droplets came out cold and quick down your back. Your muscles tensed, but your eyes desired to explore the room around you. You didn’t want to look, oh no please don’t look, but they moved around anyways. They moved up from the floor of feathers and bones, up to the table full of rusty tools and even more bones, to the pieces of furniture that decelerated the edges and sides of the rooms made of...bones. Human...bones. Human skulls, femurs, and ribs were tied with chicken wire against the frames of shoddily crafted chairs and benches. There was no denying their human origin. The noise. The noise came again from the room to your right. The same small squeal. You knew both Lana and Sam were twisted, but they couldn’t be this twisted, could they? Could they really be here, amongst these rotting horrors and… You shook the thought out and followed the noise. You had to pull them out of there quickly. “Hey guys, quit it, let’s go!” You turned the corner and stopped dead in your tracks. Lana was there. And Sam too. Or at least parts of him. What was left of his body rested on an old, bloodstained table. His limbs were in a bucket in the corner. And his head, well...you couldn’t find it. But it was definitely him. The body had the same clothes, and despite missing its extremities, it still held an energy of callousness and arrogance. A large, bloody chainsaw sat next to his remains. And Lana. She was still alive. At least you thought. She was strung up, facing Sam. You ran to her, jumping over bits of bone and flesh, but when you touched her she screamed. You saw how she was being held up. A long, rusted hook had pierced her back, and every movement on her caused her to cry out in excruciating pain. Your heart began to race. What could you do? What happened? Who did this? It was all happening too fast. You couldn’t think straight. It was all wrong. Every movement you tried to get her off the hook only made her claw out in pain. And then you heard a sound behind you. It sounded like a large hunk of metal sliding up against itself. The screeching metal clawed itself open like a demon out of hell. The door. The door was opening and it was behind you and that meant whatever was opening it was behind you too. The hairs on the back of your neck would have stood on end if not for the layers of sweat pressing them down. Critical thinking was gone now, what was left was simply survival instinct. Your eyes darted from side to side, searching for a space to hide. There were layers of tanned hide — animal? Human? — draped over several chairs next to a table, with piles of animal parts on the seat. You crawled underneath the table and pulled the chairs in front of you to hide yourself as best you could. You were breathing heavily from panic, and after you realized this, you slapped a hand to cover your mouth. You pressed your eyes closed for a moment. You were a coward. A goddamn coward. Sure, Lana wasn’t a friend, but you could hear her desperate cries as she pleaded for you to save her. But you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. Your muscles had seized from fear, and when you tried to move them, they began to shake uncontrollably. Thump, thump, thump. Footsteps came closer. You could hear them clear as day behind Lana’s cries. And behind the steps you could hear a sound like a squealing pig. Whoever had done this was in the room. Your entire body tensed when you saw movement pass in front of the chairs. Dark pant legs approached Lana and the hooks. You could see the end of her legs frantically kicking. You tried not to imagine what that was doing to the hook in her back. She cried out for help. She called for you by name. Part of you hoped she hadn’t given you away, and you immediately felt bad for hoping that. The legs moved away from her and then to the large, bloodstained table in the middle of the room. You heard the sick thunk of Sam’s torso hitting the floor. Whoever was doing this was planning on doing the same to Lana that they had done to Sam. You wanted to stop it, but you couldn’t. Cold blood and sweat flowed through your body, and no matter how much you wanted you could not move yourself. You couldn’t stop it. You listened to the sound of Lana being placed on the table, and then you listened to the disgusting slam of a heavy object against what you figured was her head. Her strained cries turned into a gurgle. The gurgle turned into a choke. The choke turned into silence. Your eyes were wild and bulged out of their sockets. They stared into the coarse hairs of one of the hides in front of you. You heard silence in the room, and you could not see the pair of legs form before. You didn’t know how you would get home or when, but you knew you had to get out of here now now now. You moved your body in this cramped space as slowly as you could. A crunch. A bone snapped beneath you. The snap reverberated through your entire body and then the whole house. Or at least it felt like it. But you were safe. Nothing moved except for you. Then another snap. An even louder snap this time and you knew you had done it. The pair of legs appeared from around the corner. You held still as it came closer to you. You wished it away. You wished so hard that the sting of tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You were going to fucking die. The pair of legs and the figure it was attached to grabbed the chairs in front of you in a sudden fury. The creaky wood was whipped away from your shelter and you let out a scream you could not control. You pushed yourself backwards, squishing bones and feathers underneath you. Thick, pudgy hands gripped the lip of the table in front of you and lifted. The table wasn’t bare. It was stacked and piled with animal parts and skins and that must have weighed it down by a lot. Which meant that the being currently lifting it clear off the floor and tossing it aside had an enormous amount of strength. The pig squealing began again, and you realized it was emanating from the figure in front of you. You were blind with fear, and you couldn’t see much of them before you started to flee. Your legs tensed underneath you as they tried to propel you forward, but you weren’t fast enough. Thick, hairy arms wrapped around your body and lifted you up clear off the ground. The person holding you was big in every since of the word. You panicked and began to squirm in the vice you were in. You kicked at their chubby stomach and strong legs. You pushed against them and you were able to hook your feet against them and push away. Their grip weakened and you fell out of their arms. You landed hard on the floor, and the tough bones that littered it banged against your muscles as you hit them. You twisted yourself around and crawled away as best you could, but the door was nowhere near. You backed yourself into a literal corner and felt yourself press against the wall behind you. The figure was standing above you now. And they were bigger than you had thought. Their body heaved with the previous exertion and each step made a heavy thump as they moved their weight around. You grabbed a bone by your side and held it up. It was old and brittle, useless in a fight but it was all you had. Your need to fight hadn’t left just yet. You held it up between you and the large beast.   “Stay back!” You screamed. Your heart was blasting against your rib cage. You were able to see the full frame of the man in front of you. You stared up towards his face. A face that seemed…wrong, and loose somehow. The apron over his shirt and tie was stained with what was obviously blood and gore. The man took a few steps closer once more. You jabbed out with the bone and he flinched slightly. He was right above you, his body heaving and bursting with strength. The man kneeled in front of you. You jabbed out again, but the man squealed and flung out a big, meaty hand. He smacked the bone out of your hands and it flew clear across the room. Completely defenseless, you pressed yourself as hard as you could into the wall, hoping in some way that you could meld into it and disappear. But you were not that fortunate. You were face to face with the man. He lowered himself to your eye level, and kept coming closer and closer until he was mere inches away. His body and shape seemed to swallow the room around him until all you could see was him and his face. And that’s when it hit you. In another split second, your eyes took in the thick twine that pieced the mask together. The mask made of something slightly translucent. It was poorly stitched together, with flaps covering the ears underneath completely. Greasy black hair erupted from the top of the mask in tangled curls. It took longer to realize that it didn’t belong to the man himself. You could see into his eyes. Holes had been cut away from the mask’s eyes and mouth, allowing you to see the true skin underneath. He noticed you holding your breath, and stopped moving. You looked into his dark eyes. The sun that broke through into the room reflected off of them, and unlocked the honeyed brown kept in their depths. Crooked teeth exposed themselves from behind his chapped lips. The light pierced through the translucent skin he had wrapped around his own. Skin around his own he was wearing skin wearing someone else’s skin on his face. You wanted to scream. You tried to scream as hard as you could, but nothing came out. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye. You could feel your body shutting down. Its natural instinct to flee and fight was beginning to wear off and all that was left was limp flesh. And he kept staring at you. The man wearing a mask of leathery skin tilted his head from side to side. His tongue slipped out and ran over his teeth. He let out a small, pig-like squeal. The strangeness of him knocked some voice into you. “I’m so sorry,” you began, your voice a hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything. Please just let me go. I shouldn’t have come here. Please!” The man tilted his head once more. Your chances were slim, but you would do anything to get out of here. Pride meant nothing to you. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have been in here. You don’t have to hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.” One of his hands rose before your eyes. You turned your face away in fear of being struck. A hand so large and thick would do terrible damage to you, and your braced yourself from the pain. But instead of a slap or the feeling of the intimidatingly thick fingers wrapped around your throat, you felt a calloused hand brush against your cheek. It was rough, and almost hesitant to touch you. You let out a pained sound as you felt him touch you. To your surprise, he immediately pulled away. Your eyes flashed opened and you heard him let out a small whimper. You saw him immediately grow self conscious of his movements. He held his hands in front of him and shuffled in place. His head ducked slightly and that’s when you realized he was just as scared of you as you were of him. You were an intruder, a stranger who had burst into his home along with Lana and Sam. They had broken in, made loud sounds, and he felt as if his shelter was being invaded. He was defending himself. He was defending himself against you. You had hidden yourself in his house and had even threatened him. Yeah, he had killed two of your “friends”, but maybe in his mind, this was a natural reaction. He kept his head down and started his pig-like squealing once more. “Hey, hey, hey,” oh god you couldn’t believe you were actually trying to comfort him. “It’s okay! It’s okay.” He watched you from the corner of his eye; his head still to the side and tucked low to show his submission. He turned his head to look away from you and stood up. You pulled your feet close to your chest and pressed yourself farther into the wall. The man walked over to the corner of the room and picked something up. He came back to you, knelt, and then presented one of Sam’s arms as an offering. A scraggly sound of fear escaped your throat and you turned away to fully face the corner. Another tear escaped you. The man whimpered and made a sound that almost sounded apologetic. He went to put the arm back where he had first put it. You sensed him return. You felt his heat radiating from his body. You smelled his sweat and his scent filling the room. You heard a soft sound escape his lips. You slowly turned to face him once more. He held his hand out to you. His eyes glowed in amber against the sun. You dared to reach a hand out, palm up, to accept his gift. Very slowly and gently, the man placed a small bird skull into the palm of your hand. You had no idea what kind of bird it was, but it was still greasy after it rotted the rest of its flesh away. “Thank you,” you whimpered. He nodded to you and made an effort to smile behind his mask and crooked teeth. From what you gathered, he could not speak. The best he could manage was small babbling sounds and a pig-like squeal that sounded frighteningly real. You wondered if he was alone here. If you were alone here with him. Your questions were immediately answered. You heard the screen door of the porch swing open and slam against the inside of the house. “Bubba!” You heard someone yell. In that moment, the man’s body seemed to change. His gentle submissiveness was exchanged for manic fear. His back straightened and he sat up. He looked from side to side, as if wondering what to do. Had someone else invaded the home? Would he kill them too? And then his eyes landed on you. Nervous sounds began to spill out of him and he held out a hand as if to say, “Wait there”. He grabbed the toppled-over stacks of animal hide and draped them over you. He covered your entire body until all you could see and smell were the tanned skins around you. You heard the voice get closer. “Bubba! What the hell is that car doing outside?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. It was scratchy and dug itself under your skin. The voice was inside the room now. “What the fuck is this, huh? What the goddamn hell did you do?” The man with the skin mask began to babble incoherently, like a child. He was panicked and scared. And it scared you. If the man who had just chopped up your acquaintances was scared of this voice, how bad would this one be? This voice, like an old man... The gas station attendant. The old, wispy haired man. He knew the man in the house somehow. Why? Didn’t he see the bodies in the room? Wasn’t he scared? You heard the older man grab something heavy off of a table. “You goddamn bastard! Look at the fucking mess that you made!” You heard clambering and various objects being thrown to the ground. Their voices moved around the room as the older man chased the other, and you heard a hard thump as he hit the masked man with something. The leathered-faced man began to cry, deep painful sobs. The older man had hit him. For some reason, you felt you heart throb in your chest. “You got all of them, didn’t you?” The man made desperate sounds of his agreement. Yes, yes, they were all gone, nothing to see here. “Well, good! Now get this mess cleaned the fuck up!” The voice disappeared, and angry footsteps followed as the older man stamped down the hall and entered another part of the house. Suddenly, there was silence. Except for the man’s crying. He was sobbing, and you could almost hear the thick drops of tears land onto the creaky hardwood floor. You didn’t dare to move. You heard the man begin to move around the room, sniffling the entire time he did so. You heard the dripping of blood as he moved the bodies of Lana and Sam away. He righted the table and chairs close to you, and after a too-long silence, he carefully pried the tanned hides away from your face. The room was still a mess, but nowhere near as bad as before. The man pressed a finger to his lips and croaked out what could have been a shushing sound. He waved his hands, gesturing you to come closer. Tears streaked the cheeks behind his mask and left a trail of wet cleanliness behind his grime. You couldn’t go with him, could you? A man who killed your friends—alright well, tolerated acquaintances—was going to take you who knows where? But you found yourself more scared of the other man than this one. At least this one didn’t kill you right away. You scooted yourself closer to the man, and he picked you up and threw your body over his shoulder. You struggled to right yourself so you weren’t hanging upside down. But he shook your body and loosened your grip until you were hanging again. You allowed this to happen, but you wondered how you were going to get out of this room unnoticed. Then, the man approached Lana’s body. The front of her head was smashed in and you could see bits of brain and bone mixed into a pudding inside her skull. You almost threw up at the sight of it. Flies were already buzzing around her. The man grabbed her, or what was left of her, and threw her over his other shoulder. You realized what he was doing. He was disguising you as another corpse. If this was your only way out, then so be it. You played dead. You let your arms flap and swing down under you. All you could see was the floor and the bits of brain that fell out of Lana’s skull as you left the room. The old man’s voice rang out again, “Don’t get all that fucking shit over my floors!” And as quickly as it had come, it was gone, muffled in another room as he spoke to someone else you could not make out. It had somehow worked. He didn’t notice that he hadn’t seen your body before, possibly because he didn’t care, and left the rest of the dirty work to be handled away from him. The man carrying you turned and headed up the narrow stairs you had seen near the entrance. Fuck, the entrance. It was right there, so close you could almost taste it, but you felt the grip on you to be too strong to even try it. At the top of the steps, the man turned down a small hallway. He opened a door and entered a little room. He made a small grunt as he shook you off his shoulder and you landed on an old, creaky bed in the corner of the room. You righted yourself quickly and pressed yourself against the corner. The man pressed a finger to his lips and signaled that you should not move. You wouldn’t—you couldn’t—as you watched him exit the room with Lana’s body. The last thing you saw of her was the gaping hole in her head. The door gently closed behind him, and you were alone. You looked around frantically, looking for some way to get away. The room was generously decorated with more animal and human bones. Strings of femurs and ribs dangled from their nailed purchase in the ceilings. And like a bolt of lightning you remembered the small bird skull that you held in your hand. You slowly opened the desperate grip and stared down at it. You hadn’t realized that you still had it. You had held onto it out of fear, and its greasy texture coated the inside of your palm. You kept it in your hand as you looked around the unfamiliar environment. There was a large window to your right. You peeled yourself off the bed and took the few steps towards it. Thin, lace-like drapes allowed most of the amber sunset light blaze through the paint-chipped frames. You were on the second floor, that was obvious, and underneath you were scraggly dried branches of juvenile trees and the sharp, thorny brambles of bushes. You tried to dig your fingers underneath the window frame in an effort to pry it open, but the swollen wood couldn’t budge in this heat. You grunted and strained behind your full strength, but you couldn’t get it open. A faint jingling came from outside the bedroom door. You whipped yourself around, your eyes already searching for a new way of escape. The door swung open, and the man came in and closed it right behind him. The jingling came from a strange bracelet on his left wrist, and you wondered who had given it to him. The man was slightly hunched over, and his movements were wary. He shuffled towards you. He could not look you in the eye, rather, he came to you like a meek, punished puppy. Your heart could not help but to ache for him. The man was large, easily a full head and a half taller than you, but in this cowardly state, he only managed to be at eye level. Your body was frozen in place in front of the window. The man got so close that you were practically hugging the wall. His face inched closer to you and sniffed at the air around you. He finally managed to work up the courage to look you in the eye. He wearily brought a finger to his lips, and then pointed out towards the door. You could still hear the muffled voices from downstairs. He whined again, desperate to have you understand. Don’t make a noise, he meant to say, or they’ll hear you. You nodded slowly, and your teeth chattered with fear and dying adrenaline. His hands came up too quickly for you to react to. Their rough, working man’s palms rubbed against your flesh and squeezed. He pulled you over to the bed and had you sit down on the edge of it. He turned from side to side, frantic, as if he were trying to compute something within his mind. As if he were struggling to find the book inside that would translate his own communication to yours. His hands came up, palms forward. Wait here, it said, please wait here. He searched for some kind of understanding in your eyes. You nodded, and to your surprise, he seemed to beam at this. A large, crooked smile stretched from behind his mask. He squealed and reached for you. You flinched and backed yourself farther into the bed. The man stopped dead in his tracks. The smile disappeared, and his head sagged. He realized his excitement had scared you. In apology, he took the jumbled up blanket that hung off the foot of the bed and gently offered it up to you. He whimpered and lowered his gaze. You took the blanket from him and wrapped it around yourself. Despite the harsh heat still present in the stuffy house, you found yourself incredibly cold. Or maybe just in need of a little comfort. The man gave his wait motion once more, and then left the room. You felt as if you could breath again. The hanging bones and rotting flesh didn’t give the most pleasant smell, but you were alive. Lana and Sam weren’t, but you were. The small bird skull hidden in your grip was your trophy; it was the symbol of your survival. But as you thought about it, did you truly deserve to survive? Your mind tried to rationalize things. They were assholes, you thought. They were huge assholes that never have or would have done a good thing in their life. But even if that were true, you were at least partly responsible for their death. They had been giving you a ride. If you weren’t around, they could’ve gone off someplace else and never gotten stuck in road kill county. It was your fault. You couldn’t save Lana, the fear had taken over. You were a coward. You had done nothing. No, but you had tried. You had never seen a dead body before, what could you have done? You tried your best to excuse and reason with yourself. Your mind spiraled and repeated for the next hour. You were immobilized by your thoughts and by the sounds of voices emanating from downstairs. It was a repetitive cycle of guilt and rationalization, and you had no way of getting out of it or this room. The sunlight was slowly fading from the window, and as the last light turned orange and pink and purple, the man entered the room once more. He was hunched over, submissive, and had lowered himself from full height in order not to scare you. He was aware of his intimidating stature. However, his size was probably the least scary thing about him. He was hiding from behind his mask of leathered skin, but not in the way you first thought. He was not trying to hide his identity, no. What is more obvious than a large man in a mask made out of faces? Very few things, you would say. But he was trying to hide himself from the outside world either way. The mask was a part of him, a different face that he could show the world that despite its origin was more of a part of him than its original owner. He held a large plate in one hand, and a cup in another. As he crept closer, you were able to see more of what was on it. It was packed with mac and cheese, greens, and mashed potatoes. Your mouth drooled at just the sight of it. You hadn’t realized how desperately hungry you were. You were running on fumes since this morning, and your stomach twisted and flipped at the possibility of food inside of it. But the man was carrying it. How safe could it really be?   You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as he stood at the edge of the bed. With his head bowed, he offered up the food to you. It took a moment of him holding it to realize that he wanted you to take it. “Th-thank you.” You took the plate and cup out of his hand and placed the former on your lap. The man shifted from foot to foot and slipped a fork out from his apron pocket. He continued to shift from foot to foot as he waited for you to take your first bite. You stared at your food and debated. Was it truly safe? Could it be poisoned? Did you really have a choice? You raised your fork and began to pick at your meal. You looked up at the masked man, and his eyes shone bright with anticipation. You brought a forkful of mac and cheese to your mouth and ate it. Your taste buds exploded and your mouth coated itself with saliva. It was the best mac and cheese you had ever tasted in your life. Without pause, you began to take more and more food in your mouth. You didn’t know if you were that hungry or if it was just that good, but you did not hesitate with eating the rest of your plate. The man stared at you the entire time, his shifting growing quicker as he saw your enthusiasm. When you were done, you chugged down the rest of the old, slightly dusty cup and took a deep breath. You looked up at the man and managed a smile. “Thank you. That was–that was really good.” The man let out a cheerful squeal and took the plate and cup from you. As he reached down, you saw the large, purple bruises that plagued his forearms. Your heart dropped. Acting on instinct, you reached out and touched him. Your fingers grazed the dark discoloration on his hairy arms. He let out a high-pitched squeal and tugged himself away. He took a few steps back, as if you were the true danger here in this room. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You said. You brought up your hands to show that you meant no harm. “You’re hurt! May I see?” The man’s chest rose and fell with quick, nervous breathes. He set the plate and cup down on a small table nearby. Like a meek little puppy, the man reluctantly approached. With each step he took, his height and presence shrunk, until he was quite literally on your knees in front of you. He weakly held up his arm to you. His head had fallen to his chest and you could feel the apprehension wafting out of him in waves. You were careful not to put too much pressure on his arms in order not to hurt him. The bruises were quickly turning into huge welts. His forearms were filled with them, and you had the suspicion that the bruises crawled up onto his shoulders behind the short sleeves of his dress shirt. “Did the other man do this to you?” He nodded weakly. He made no effort to take his arm from you. He had been beaten into outright submission. If you could have afforded the tears, you would’ve cried. “Bubba?” The man’s head whipped up. “That’s your name, right? Bubba? That’s what that other guy called you.” The man, or rather, Bubba, gave a quick nod. His name on your lips and in the air made his heart beat faster. “Bubba—“ He cocked his head. “Does he do this to you a lot?” He gave another curt nod. He stood up in a sudden motion and sat himself on the bed. The sudden drop of his weight on the spring mattress almost sent you flying. Bubba put his head in his hands and his fingers pressed deeply into the skin of his mask. You reached out to touch him. To comfort him. Were you really doing this? Were you really going to comfort the man that you saw kill two human beings. A man that wore human skin on his face? As the thoughts raced around in your mind, you felt your own hand touch his shoulder before you could even think of it. He flinched at the touch, obviously not used to the end of a hand that was not striking him. You pulled away; scared that too much would warrant an angry or violent reaction out of him. “Did you...” your voice came out scraggly and hoarse so you cleared it. “Did you cook the food you gave me?” Bubba was sniveling and sniffling. He expertly hooked his fingers under the stitched skin to wipe away his tears, as if he had done it countless times before. It took a few moments before he nodded, and his sappy, teary eyes refused to make contact with yours. “Bubba–“ his back straightened. “That food was really amazing! You sure do know how to cook!” His hands crept up to his face, and through his fingers and mask, you could see the reddening in his face as he began to blush. “I mean it! You should be proud of yourself!” Bubba finally faced you, and his cracked lips pulled over crooked teeth to give you the biggest smile you had ever seen on a person. His thick, pudgy hands slapped his thighs in excitement. He began to bounce on the bed, his heavy weight sending shockwaves through it, and almost knocking you off. You couldn’t help but to laugh. His pure, unbridled joy was something difficult to come by, and it seeped into your bones and muscles and filled your belly full of laughter. Your happiness only caused him to get more excited, and he found himself further onto the bed, his legs crossed in front of him across from you. You tried to quiet yourself as to not draw attention to the others downstairs, but once you started laughing you couldn’t stop. This man in front of you, this murderer, had all the excitement and joy of a small child and the energies of it wafted through the air and settled on your skin. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Was it Stockholm Syndrome? You couldn’t have fallen into it this quickly could you? It was so easy to condemn him for what he had done to people you couldn’t even stand—but still, they were people—when he wasn’t around, but now, with him in his pure joy, in his uncharacteristic innocence, he couldn’t help but forgive him. He didn’t kill you for one thing, but it was like he was a different person. The squealing, ferocious man that you had seen downstairs had morphed into this battered, giggling mess. It was wrong for the three of you to have come into the house, you knew that now. He was scared. Bubba was a frightened boy that lashed out and hurt and hurt because he didn’t understand. And maybe he didn’t understand death or killing but he did understand kindness and joy. And he understood fear. It seemed like he lived in fear every day. Bubba began to settle down, but his body continued to bounce, causing the bedsprings to creak. Your heart was thumping, but for the first time today it wasn’t from fear. The two of you were mushed onto this small, creaky bed in a room full of rot and hidden treasures, and in that moment, it became a sanctuary. Finally calm, you stuck out a hand to touch the beaten arm again. Bubba watched, his gaze quickly shifting from your hand to your eyes. He let you touch him and you saw the hairs on his arm stand up. You smiled and let out a small sigh. “Yeah, Bubba,” his name felt like sweet honey on your tongue, “Thank you. For giving me food. What I wouldn’t do for a bit of steak right now, though.” Like a shock running through your fingertips, you felt the presence in his body begin to shift. He sat up straight, his eyes boring into you. Without warning, he began to shake his head furiously from side to side. His sounds started at a whimper and crescendoed into a constant, loud squealing. He launched himself across the bed and grabbed you by the arms. The momentum and force behind his weight and body caused you to fall backwards, and suddenly he was on top of you. His eyes were wild with panic and his voice and squeals trembled with pain. He shook you, hard. His head wouldn’t stop shaking and his voice cried out as if he were trying to say words that he wasn’t capable of forming. You were a stone statue on the bed, unable to move from both fright and the weight that he put on you. You couldn’t look away from his eyes and see how scared they looked. Bubba let go of you and began to beat at his head, his flat palms slapping against either side of him. He was punishing himself for lord knows what, and you knew he wasn’t being gentle with himself. Your hands flew out and tried to grab his wrists and stop him, but he was too strong. He was crying again, and terrible sobs ripped through the room as he continued to hurt himself. You panicked. You didn’t know what you could do. So your next instinct was to slip your hands around his head and block his hands from hitting himself. The thick palms slapped against your hands, and the pain rang out of your fingers. You grimaced but kept your hands to block him. “It’s okay, Bubba! No meat! No meat!” He tried to hit himself once more when it clicked that your hands were around him, and he was hurting you and not himself. He stopped almost immediately. The room went quiet. Bubba’s lip quivered as he slowly removed your hands from the sides of his head. Your skin was growing a dark shade of red, and he brought your hands close in order to observe. His head tilted and he let out a small whimper. His eyes tore themselves away and returned to you. A small rumble that slowly morphed into a whimper escaped his throat. Bubba’s giant hands wrapped around yours, and he whined and whined like a desperate puppy once he realized he hurt you. His head peeled up after a moment, and his hand shot out to your side. You flinched at the sudden movement. He noticed this and went slow as he picked up the small bird skull he had given you earlier. He took one of your hands and placed the skull in your palm. His fingers curled yours and pressed your hand close to your chest. It was yours now. It was his apology. You gave him a slight nod but you couldn’t afford a smile. He knew he had done something wrong and he might have punished himself more if he knew you wouldn’t stop him. The poor boy was distraught. His eyes were red from tears and his entire body shivered despite the heat. The last rays of light traveled through the nearby window. You could feel your exhaustion growing as the day that could have been your last began to end. You heard the stomping of feet outside coming up the stairs. They stopped outside the room and an angry fist slammed against the old, wooden door. “Bubba! Shut your fucking yapping! Your brother and I are trying to have a fucking conversation!” It was the old man again, undoubtedly angry. A brother? Bubba has a brother? Was that the other voice? You couldn’t dwell on the thought for long, because Bubba’s large, shivering frame flinched and cowered at the voice. He pulled himself back onto the bed and pressed his body against you. You could feel every ounce of his weight as he leaned on you, and before you could stop him, he was burying his face against your side in fear. His hands gripped your shirt and you could feel the wetness of his tears drying against it. You felt the rumble in his chest as he whimpered in fright. Your hand fell against his back, and before you knew what you were doing, you were rubbing and comforting him. Almost immediately, the shivering stopped. A low hum in his body, like a purr, flowed through him and his head fell from your side to your lap. You froze at the sudden change in demeanor. Bubba was quick to change from anger to fear, or maybe it was all fear in different flavors. The thick, curly hair that did not belong to him shook with tears on your lap. Your hand continued to rub him. “Shhhh,” you hushed. “It’s okay, Bubba. It’s okay.” His body began to grow still on you. His fingers kept their strong hook on your clothing, but you managed to lean back against the pillow and wall and rest your head. Exhaustion clawed at your heart and eyes as your breathing began to slow, and the heat in the air and from Bubba’s body provided a blanket around you that you could not leave even if you wanted to. Surprisingly, you did not. Darkness fell over the light clinking of bones that hung from the ceiling. Sleep overtook you, and you were gone.

––––––––

You felt your heart before anything else. You felt the quickening thumping in your chest as your body began to wake around you. Your eyes fluttered open as you took in the peach glow of the morning sun. It was that sort of morning light you saw when you were young and woke up early, even before your parents, and watched cartoons with a blanket wrapped around you for protection. You felt warm as another blanket cloaked you now, although it was much heavier than you thought it would be. You turned to the side and were met with the crude, stitched-together mess of translucent skin and matted hair. Your heart began to speed up, but it slowed as your eyes drifted to the peaceful, closed eyes of the man behind the mask. The gentle curve of his long eyelashes twitched in his sleep, and his chapped lips lay partly open as he breathed in and out. His large hairy arm rested on top of you, the weight of it a comfort in the dawn. Your heart slowed on instinct. For some reason, you felt safe in Bubba’s arms. You were shocked, sure, to find yourself in this situation, but it felt… Right? Was it okay to feel right with this man? Was it okay to find yourself sleeping next to someone who had bashed a person’s skull in and sawed off their limbs to a stump? Maybe not, but it was what you felt. You felt some sort protectiveness over him. Despite his large body, he was frail. Like an abandoned puppy, lost in the rain, you wanted to scoop him in and place him in your warm care. You closed your eyes once more and shifted your body towards him. You were going to embrace him both physically and figuratively. He was only defending himself after all, and you enjoyed a man who would defend what was his with all he had. You turned your back to him and settled into the softness of his chest and tummy. You fit into him like the last piece in a thousand-piece puzzle, with just as much relief and satisfaction. A light noise passed his lips from the movement, and you grew still in order not to wake him. You slowly drifted into sleep. Your eyelids grew heavy with the sweet lull of unconsciousness. Your gentle rock into sleep was disturbed once more when you felt Bubba shift a bit behind you. You kept your eyes closed in case he was just readjusting himself, but the slight movement happened again. And again. You realized his hips were moving, bucking into you. In the swirl of your half-asleep mind, you barely noticed the hardened bulge in the center of his mass, pressed up against you. It was as if your body was asleep when your mind was not, and each of your movements was like moving through a slog of honey. Each touch against you left a buzz that flowed through your skin and deep into your bones. The hardened prod against your rear and thighs pressed gently against you, and you could feel the warmth of Bubba’s member against you. The arm around you gripped you harder, and Bubba pulled you in against each rut against you. He was slowly going faster, and his movements caused you to let out a throaty moan. Your mouth slammed shut as soon as you heard it, as the moan came out from pure instinct and stimulation. You were embarrassed by how easily he made you moan, but if it happened and felt this good, then why deny it? Bubba’s morning wood pressed against you once more before his arm removed itself from around your torso. He was much more awake than you were. His hand slipped down between the two of your bodies and to the front of his pants. You heard the light unzipping of his pants and then the warmth of his heat pressed against you. Your arms reached out above you and stretched the sleepiness from your muscles in beautiful satisfaction. Your back pressed up against him, and the softest of sounds escaped your lips once more. And to your surprise, Bubba responded with a sound of his own. The sound alone could have sent you over the brink. It was a huff that ended in a higher pitch, like a soft whine of desperation and need that sent wild thoughts through your mind of how badly he needed you. You felt his member already leaking against you, as it left warm, wet patches on the back of your pants. On instinct and pleasure, you ground your ass against him, just to get more of a feel of him against you. He was large, you could tell that much, but you were worried about turning around in case it would make him stop. Bubba’s arm wrapped itself around you again, and his face neared the back of your neck. You could feel his breath on you, and the slight chill of it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. He whimpered again, as if pleading for you to take him. It seemed like this was his first time in this sort of situation, as his hips seemed to buck erratically and with slight hesitance. His belly pressed against you. He stopped for a moment and waited for you to show expressive interest. Now fully awake, you reached down to bring down the hem of your pants. The heat in your crotch was as hot or even hotter than the heat the rising sun that was blazing through the room. And then you felt it, you felt Bubba. He was incredibly, unfairly thick, almost like your forearm. He wasn’t the longest, but what he was packing made you tremble. You felt the eager tip of his cock press against the soft mounds of your ass. His entire body began to shake and shiver and you were convinced that he was going to cum right then and there if it weren’t for the loud footsteps and banging on the door that brought the both of you out of it. “Bubba!” The voice yelled, “It’s time to get breakfast ready!” Bubba’s breath was raspy against your neck, and you immediately pulled up your pants. They still didn’t know you were here, and if you weren’t careful, they would soon find out. And who knows what they would do to you. Bubba tucked himself into his pants before you could see him and—and wow, you actually wanted to see him. You felt a chamber in your core unlock as desire began to take over. This large, masked, strange man had torn a hole in your heart and had settled inside. He was so comfortable there that you had almost…almost… Bubba got up out his creaky bed. He whimpered as his legs dragged behind him. Before he opened the door, he looked back and made a motion for you to stay put, not like you had much of an option. He left and closed the door behind himself. And now you were alone. Alone with your thoughts. What were you doing? You were here, in a house where people had been killed, and you had just, you know, done things with the man who did it. It was wrong. It was sickeningly, disgustingly, intoxicatingly wrong. You had to admit to yourself that the fact that you knew what Bubba was capable of, that this soft puppy of a man was capable of such horrifying acts—but not with you—that it was…attractive. He could hurt someone for you. He could maybe even kill for you, and you knew his curiosity and obsession with you was growing. The simple fact that he was willing to hide you here from the man who hit him said enough. You didn’t owe him anything, but you wanted to give him everything. But your curiosity was getting the better of you. You heard the muffled voices and clattering of pots and pans from downstairs. You swung your feet over the bed and carefully distributed your weight as to not make the boards creak. With careful steps along the dresser and table, where the wood had settled the best, you carefully made your way to the door. You listened for a moment, and after you heard nothing, you cracked the door open and peaked outside. This was your first view of the hallway right side up. The walls were adorned with dark-green, peeling wallpaper that must have been set 20 years past. You saw the doors to a few more rooms and then the stairs leading down. Movement caught your eye as a dark shadow moved past the open crack of the door. Your heart froze in your chest as a man walked past you with no knowledge you were actually there. He turned the corner to go down the stairs, and in the brief moment before you hid behind the door, you saw his face. The face with a large, red birthmark the color of blood dripping down the side of his face.  The hitchhiker. It was the man on the road from yesterday who had tried to get you to come to his…house. You recoiled from the opening and brought your hands up to your face. You were always going to end up here, somehow. You were going to end up in this house, in this room, in this heat. But you realized just how lucky you were that you didn’t die like the rest of them. You were lucky that Bubba didn’t hurt you at all. You were here and that mattered for something didn’t it? And you were here with Bubba, which wasn’t so bad either. You heard the voices return and come up the stairs, and your undying curiosity brought you back to the crack in the door. You saw the hitchhiker again, and then Bubba behind him. You gathered that the hitchhiker was a bit nicer than the older man, as when he put his hand on Bubba’s back, the latter didn’t immediately flinch or cringe away from the touch. The older man yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Now be careful with Grandpa, boys!” Grandpa? Bubba and the hitchhiker went into a room directly across from the top of the stairs. They had disappeared for only a moment when they reappeared once more. Between the two of them, they carried an old wooden chair, and in that chair was a corpse. Your breath caught in your throat and you heart froze in your chest. The corpse was that of an old man. Bald, sheet white, and sunken in, its head lulled from side to side as the two men carried it down the stairs. But it wasn’t a corpse at all. For the briefest moment, the old man regained its control over its head and turned to you. The sunken, hollow eyes made contact with yours before it lost its strength and dropped once more. You heard the thumps and coordination of their feet as they got to the bottom, along with the yelling from the older man. You took a deep breath and exited the room. You needed to see more. You needed to see more of Bubba. You took careful steps along the hallway until you reached the top of the stairs. You took a few steps down and sat. Your hands wrapped around the white bannisters whose paint had chipped and the wooden frame underneath peaked through. You could hear the voices much clearer now. They were below and around a corner. “Nubbins!” The older man cried out. “Go help your brother with the food!” When was this man not yelling? But also, was that the hitchhiker’s name? Strange. You had thought you misheard until you heard him respond. “Yeah, yeah, hold your fucking horses, Drayton.” Nubbins and Drayton. This was Bubba’s family. You heard even more clambering in the kitchen until it began to quiet. The scrape of old chairs against the wood floor signaled that they were sitting to eat. The thought of food made a pang of hunger hit your stomach. A moment of silence to say grace, and then the dining room erupted in noise once more. The all spoke loudly to each other, except for Bubba of course. They asked to be passed the bacon, eggs, ham, and even ribs. They had plenty of food, and you were curious at how they got them. But also, why did Bubba not want you to eat the meat if they were having so much of it now? You wanted to see more of the privacy of their meal, and you slowly slid off the step and lowered yourself down a bit more. You were now able to see farther into the dining room. It was adorned similarly to the rest of the house, with bones tied to and holding the majority of furniture together. You could see part of Bubba, or at least you thought it was him. He wore a mask, but a different one from before. It had short, grey hair, and a hole on the forehead similar to the one you met him in.  The skin sagged and lay wrinkled as it wrapped around Bubba’s face. He served food around the table, and babbled incoherent gibberish in a high-pitched voice. He seemed erratic and nervous as he tried to handle everything around the table. You wished you could run down the stairs and hug him tightly. But you knew that you would be in danger as soon as Nubbins or Drayton knew of your existence. Through a mouth full of food, Drayton muttered, “You did it again, Bubba! Great fucking breakfast. Who knew you could make such great shit out of such little meat, eh? Sometimes God simply provides.” “Hey!” Nubbins yelled, “I’m the one that sent them here!” “You didn’t send shit! You couldn’t even get into their fucking car! You didn’t do anything to provide for this family, you chickenshit! Bubba here, Bubba made something for us. He took care of those fucking kids and used their best bits and gave us this. Do you know how to do that? Do ya?” The voices quickly reduced to a jumble of screaming and yelling. Bubba bumbling and whimpering only added to the chorus. But you weren’t paying attention to that. Their bits? Their best bits? What did he mean? Their luggage? It wouldn’t serve any sort of use. And– No, their bits. Their meat. This grand breakfast the day after you saw them chopped up amongst the bones. They were eating them. And Bubba had cooked them up. That was why he didn’t want you to eat it. If you could, you would have bolted out of here this instant. In fact, what was stopping you?  You stood up, not caring if the stairs underneath emitted any sound. Your legs tensed and you held your breath. Just as you were about to run for your life, you heard a clattering crash and slam. “Bubba!” A whimper. Then a hard smack of a sound. Bubba started to sob. “Bubba you useless, goddamn child! Look what your bumbling ass did with all this! You clean this shit up right now or I swear your ass is gonna red till next Sunday!” Bubba was bumbling and sobbing in his nonsense language, and you could imagine him putting up his hands in his defense. No, you couldn’t leave. Not while Bubba was still like this: alone and afraid, beaten and abused. You were one of the few to show him kindness, and you didn’t want to think about the heartbreak leaving him would do. Every cell in your body was telling you to go, especially now that you knew their eating habits, but you couldn’t leave Bubba. Your feet slowly crept back up the steps, and before you knew it, you were back in Bubba’s room. The bird skull was still waiting for you on the bed. You picked it up and held it close to your chest. You waited for what seemed like forever until you heard the faint jingle of Bubba’s bracelet as he came to the door. He opened it quietly, as if to not disturb you, as if this was no longer his room but yours and he was intruding. You watched him practically crawl to you like a punished dog, not quite knowing what he had done wrong. He carried a plate in his hand piled high with food. The old lady mask was gone and he had returned to his usual one. You felt your heart throb in your chest. The corners of your eyes stung with the beginnings of tears as you watched this (somewhat) innocent man reduced to the small, quivering mess before you. Bubba offered the food to you, bringing it up with his head bowed. The food was quickly in your hands but you did not devour it. You placed it aside and whispered: “Oh, Bubba... are you okay? I heard. I heard everything.” He looked up at you in shock. He knew that you knew and the shame was plain on his face. He whimpered and went on his knees. His hand clasped together in a plea, in forgiveness. “No!” Your voice shook and trembled in its strength. Bubba’s body grew into stone at your feet. “There is nothing to forgive. It’s okay.” Your arms opened and welcomed him into your warmth. The hard stone around his body crumbled away and he embraced you. His head collapsed on your shoulder, and the tears from his eyes soaked your dirty shirt. “I know what you do. And while I don’t quite…understand, I won’t leave alone here. Not with him. You’re safe with me.” Bubba’s body began to rise to his full height, but he never let go of you. He picked you up and his arms grew into a strong vice of a hug that you did not want to leave. Your feet dangled off the ground, and you felt every ounce of strength that Bubba was careful not to use too much against you. He was a specimen of natural strength, and you were well aware of what his arms were capable of. They were capable of crushing, maiming, killing, slaughtering, loving. Bubba set you down onto the bed once more and his gentle hand waivered above you. You could see how desperately he wanted to touch you, how his thick, calloused hands wanted to stroke your face, but could not dare to do. So you solved the problem for him. You grabbed his hand and place it against your cheek. His strong palms pressed against your skin and slowly trailed down to your jaw and then your neck. He watched his face as he did so. You watched the glowing, honeyed brown eyes as they reflected the light of the morning. You watched as he slowly and carefully inspected every inch and detail of your skin. You tried to gather as much information that was buried behind the mask, but all you could see was wonder. Bubba’s hand lowered down to your neck. You had watched that hand smash a girl’s head in, and now it was delicately tracing the tendons and veins of your throat. His fingertips grazed your collarbone and you knew he would keep going lower and lower unless you stopped him. But you didn’t. You wanted to see more of the pure joy and wonder in his eyes. His mouth let out small sounds of satisfaction whenever he hit a certain curve or angle of your skin. A soft whimper as he traced the small indent of your clavicle, and then a squeak as he grazed the flat surface of your sternum. A low growl escaped from his throat, and as suddenly as his touch was on you, it was gone. He slunk away from you, and it was plain just how scared he was to touch you any more. You realized he had never had this before. He never had someone to touch that wanted to be touch. And your heart ached for him. Bubba recoiled from you and picked up the food once more. He tried to offer it once more, but you weren’t interested in that. Bubba did not think he was worthy of you or your touch, but you wanted to show him that he was. You took the plate of food from him, and stood up. He took a few steps back and began to cower, worried that you were going to reject him and his food and get violent in some way. You set the plate down carefully on the table and approached Bubba like he was a scared, stray dog. You were slow and careful with each step, and after a few moments he stopped backing away. Bubba let out a constant stream of whimpers and cries as you closed in on him. You hushed him. “Bubba, shhh shhh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hands came up to protect himself, but they faltered at your hush. Backed against the wall, he seemed so defenseless. And now you knew that he could never hurt you. With your hands raised in front of you, you let him know that you were going to touch him. Your palms pressed against his broad, heaving chest, and he immediately began to calm. He was panting from fear, but with each moment of contact, he began to go at ease. Bubba’s lip quivered and he whimpered as your hands explored his chest. You were a bit scared to touch his face, or “face” rather, but you stomached it to put your hands on either side of it. “I’m here, Bubba. It’s okay.” His dark eyes softened and locked onto yours. His hands came up and held yours to his face, and he applied a comforting pressure to them. After a moment, he let go, and you did as well. Your hands wandered down to chest once more, but this time, your hand wrapped around his patterned tie and tugged lightly. Bubba whimpered once more, but he quickly quieted when he pressed his lips against yours. You felt the surprisingly soft lips quivering against your own before they pressed harder into you. Your eyes widened from surprise, but softened as you felt more of his body around you. Your grip on Bubba’s tie grew stronger and pulled him in deeper. Your mouth parted, and your tongue slipped past his sharp, crooked teeth and slid across his hot, thick tongue. You felt the vibration of his whimpers echoing against your mouth, and you wanted to hear more of it. His sweet, desperate sounds sent chills down your body. His hands had crept up to continue exploring your body as he was before. His hands landed on your hips and squeezed before he continued upwards. Your tongue intertwined with his and you felt burning desire flow through you. You tugged on the tie again and began to lead Bubba back to the bed. You were careful as tried not to hurt the dark bruises throughout his body. “I’ll take care of you, Bubba.” He whined like a lovesick puppy. You turned him around, still with your grip around his tie, and sat him down onto the bed. He whimpered and cried out as you broke away from his lips. “Lie down.” You ordered. He immediately obeyed. As he rested on his back on the old, creaky bed, you saw the bulge in his pants as clear as day. You could tell just from the sight of it just how big he was. Bubba continued to look up at you. His tongue licked his lips. He was already addicted to you. He would do anything you asked of him. He was completely submissive. You slowly crept up onto the bed, and crawled over his body. You planted yourself firmly on his lap, his bulge pressing upwards against you. You leaned down to kiss him once more, before your hand righted around his tie and your hips began to grind. And then Bubba went wild. He began to squeal and babble much louder than he had before as his hips began to buck on their own and you began to bounce on him. His hands began to tug and pull at your clothing, as he tried his best to tear it off. “Bubba,” you said sternly, “Put your hands above your head and keep them there.” He immediately obeyed once more. His hands went above his head and gripped the bed’s headboard. You knew the strength in those arms, arms that could easily lift you up and take you exactly how he wanted to, but he had relinquished control to you, and you would not squander that gift. Bubba quieted and waited for you to move. You could feel his throbbing heat pulsating against your groin and you grew hungrier by the second. You took a moment to take off your shirt, and you saw Bubba reach out to touch you. You wagged your finger and he put his hands away once more. Bubba was panting desperately like an animal in heat. His mouth hung completely open, and his tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth. You could practically see his hot breath huffing out of him. You were convinced that he would explode any second, as he seemed to grow and grow underneath you. The next thing to go was your pants. You quickly unbuttoned and threw them off onto the floor. Now completely bare, you could feel the throbbing heat in Bubba’s pants that was only separated by a few layers of fabric. Bubba’s ragged breath came out as constant noise, and you loved it. You ground your hips against his for a few moments as you felt his erection grow to its full size. The fabric of his pants could barely contain it. Finally, you scooted down in order to free him. As soon as you unzipped his pants, his thick, veiny cock sprung out from its cage. Your breath caught in your throat as you took the view in. To say he was thick was an understatement. Bubba was easily as thick as your wrist, and strong, pulsing veins added ridges to his member. He wasn’t the longest you had experienced, but it was his girth that shocked you. You knew it was going to ruin you and you were eager for it. His menacing cock jumped and twitched as he could feel your eyes on him. You raised yourself up, and ever so carefully; you grazed your aroused crotch against Bubba’s burning cock. He howled in pleasure and bucked up to reach you, but the momentary friction was gone as you continued to move yourself upwards. You didn’t stop until your groin was right above Bubba’s mouth. You could see his white-knuckled grip on the wooden headboard as he used every ounce of his willpower not to touch you. “You’re a big boy, Bubba. So you’re going to have to get me ready.” A moment later and you placed your entrance to his mouth, and he began to work. His thick, warm tongue slithered out past his lips and traced circles around your entrance. Your voice choked in your throat as you felt the warm tongue lap at you. Your legs trembled around Bubba’s head. You rested yourself fully on his face, and his tongue began to explore your depths.  You felt your entrance part as his tongue ventured inside, leaving a slimy hot trail of saliva across every inch.   Through gasps and moans, you were able to let out a few words. “You can touch me now.” Bubba did not need to hear anything more before his hands removed themselves from the headboard and wrapped their thickness against your thighs and pulled you down completely onto his face. It was like he was trying to devour you from the inside out. His tongue, lips, and even teeth worked in conjunction to prepare you. Your eyes slowly wandered to the headboard, and you saw the faint splintering of the wood around the indents of his grip. His noises never stopped. They vibrated and reverberated against your entrance. His hips bucked in a futile attempt at friction in the air. You were worried that you were suffocating him underneath your meat, but every attempt to pull away only strengthened his grip around you. His thick, slobbery tongue penetrated you as deep as it could, but it was not enough. You called Bubba’s name and he worked himself harder. “Good, Bubba. That’s my boy.” You pulled at the hair of his mask and bucked your hips, gliding up against Bubba’s noise and face with your protrusion. You decided you were ready, or rather, you couldn’t wait any longer. You tapped Bubba on the shoulder to get his attention. “Take me, Bubba. Fill me up.” He let out a hog-like squeal underneath you and pulled you off of his face. Bubba sat up and guided the weight of your body without a problem as he settled your entrance on the head of his cock. Just the head would be difficult enough to put inside, but you calmed yourself and slowly wriggled to ease it in. Bubba had other plans. He grabbed you by the hips, and pushed you down as hard as he could. White-hot burning pain exploded around you as you felt his thick cock travel to the depths of your body. Each vein was large enough to feel against your walls, and the gentle curve upwards guided the fat head to your special spot deep within. You cried out in pain for only a moment before Bubba covered your mouth with his thick palm. He looked up at you in wonder, and you watched a thick strand of drool ran down the corner of his mouth. His dark, hungry eyes were vacant with lust, and he only took a moment to buck into you. You could feel every single inch of him inside you. You felt his thick girth stretch you to your absolute limit. Your head of nerves gently stroked against Bubba’s belly. You needed something to grab onto, and on instinct you reached for his tie once more. You wrapped it around your hand several times before you tightened it against his throat. His squeal died down from the pressure on his airway, and his lips parted in order to breathe. His hips began to buck faster. Despite the pain you were in, you were leading him in your joined pleasure.

“Faster, Bubba. Go faster.” His hips continued to buck up into you, and you let out breathy moans along with his whimpers. Bubba’s arms wrapped around you, and firmly hugged you to his chest. His hips bucked faster, and more and more of his cock tugged the flesh in and out of you. Bubba’s eyes never left your face. He watched as every one of his movements displayed itself on your visage. Each thrust into you hit just the right spot, and forced deep moans out from your mouth. Your sensitive stretch of nerves rubbed against Bubba’s pelvis and stomach, and the unending stimulation caused you to tuck your head in the crook of his shoulder. His head pressed against your own in his own display of kindness and affection. But not too long after, his rut into you began to escalate. His hips became faster and his cock fucked you harder. There was no hiding your noises now, it was all too late. Bubba’s squealing joined your moans as you held on for dear life. You were bouncing on his cock, and his entire length would slip out of you before sliding itself back in once more. Your entrance was aching but that only added to your desire. Bubba lifted you slightly and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Suddenly, you were on your back, and his weight was above you. He slowed down considerable to try not to hurt you, but a quick tightening of his tie, like a leash, hurried him once more. “Faster, Bubba, Faster. Bury yourself inside.” His hips were slamming into you at a manic pace. You could feel the base of his cock slam against your entrance with each quick push upwards. Bubba released a constant stream of needy sounds, and they only stopped once his lips landed on your neck. His sharp teeth bit and rugged at your glowing skin. With each bite he slid his fat tongue across your neck to accent each one. His tongue lapped at you and explored every inch of you. He pumped away below, but above, he kissed and sucked and licked, his mouth a roaming band of sensations. With one last twirl of his tongue, his mouth latched onto you completely. You could feel his teeth scrape and lips suction, and you already knew he was leaving deep hickeys on your skin. His animalistic grunt vibrated against your throat. Your mind had begun to meld into only blind pleasure. Along with his cock, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, the front of you rubbed against his round belly. He was all around you and every inch provided you with pleasure. Your grip around his tie began to tighten as you felt your orgasm coming to a peak. Unexpectedly, Bubba’s hand moved from your thigh to the front of your groin. His agile hand worked you from what he knew from his own self-pleasure. He rubbed and tugged, and quickly switched from using just his thumb to his the palm of his hand and back again. It was all too much. Too much too much. Your legs quivered and your entire body shook as you came. The tie tightened itself around his throat until he could not breath. Your head rocked back as you let your orgasm take you as far as it could. Bubba continued to pump away at you, and your walls began to close around his cock like a vice. His thrusts began to quicken, and he remained deep within you. He still could not breathe, and it wasn’t until a squeak managed to escape his lips that you loosened the grip around his throat. He fucked away, until he began to squeal and pant wildly.  Bubba’s hip stuttered for just a moment before he let out a harsh grunt, left your neck, and stared into your eyes as he came. He pumped you full of his cum, his hips continuously going until all of his seed was spent. You felt each hot spurt hitting your walls and filling up your guts with each thrust. And then, he jammed the rest of his cock inside, sealing your entrance with all of his hot juices inside. He kept you plugged for as long as he could bear to before the overstimulation caused him discomfort. You felt his warmth in the depths of your belly. Very slowly, Bubba pulled his thick monster of a cock out of you. His giant head made a pop as he exited you, and your gaping hole began to ooze the fruit of his labor. You felt every string and drop as it emptied out of you. You took a moment to take a few breaths and thought it was over. It wasn’t. Bubba’s cock did not waver after its orgasm, and instead stood strong beneath you. He had lived without a kind, living touch for so long, and he was going to get as much as he could out of you. Your grip around his tie was gone, but you were able to peak at the bright red marks along his neck that your control had caused. He immediately began to line up the gorgeous head of his cock against your entrance once more. He had stretched you to your limit, and your muscles did not provide any sort of obstacle to his member. You felt his warmth slip inside of you, slick on his hot cum. Bubba plugged you once more, and his cock filled you to the brim. You were still sensitive from your orgasm just moments before, but the deliciously painful stretch of your muscles distracted you from it. You were completely focused on Bubba above you. You focused on his soft eyes as he traced the features on your face. You focused on the feeling of the hot air around you. You focused on the thump of your heart in your chest. Bubba’s thrusts were slow at first as he tried to create a tempo, but once he did so, he began to thrust into you as quickly as possible. He humped away like a mad dog, his thick, burning cock pressing into your guts and smearing the remnants of his last orgasm against your walls. Your muscles were growing weak. He pumped away at you, his eyes bored into you as they watched his every movement that caused you to moan. His hands squeezed every bit of flesh that they could find. Before long, he let out another squeal and came into you once more. Even more cum came out of him than the first round. Each thrust caused more of his juices to implant themselves inside you, and he buried his cock deeply within. He had a thing for keeping his cum inside you, which was plain to see, and you were into it just as much. He filled your insides quickly, and you swore that you could feel the slight distention caused by both his fluids and his cock. You let out a long, guttural moan as he slowly pulled himself out. You felt his cum slowly drip and ooze out of you, and you were so tempted to use your fingers to spread it around your entrance. Bubba beat you to it. His fingers rubbed along your entrance in long strides, which coated his fingers in his own cum. He whimpered, and ducked his head down between your legs. His hot, wet tongue lapped at your entrance. It twirled and stroked up each drop of his cum that left your body. Occasionally, he dipped his tongue inside to coerce more of himself out of you. The sensation of his wetness sliding across your used up entrance caused your breathing to falter. You listened to him slurp up his cum, and his gentle touch sent gentle waves of pleasure through you body. You hand thrust out and held the back of Bubba’s head to your crotch.

“More, Bubba.” You were addicted to his heat and his tongue and you were not going to let go. He began to slid his flat thickness across your entrance and up over the rest of your groin. His tongue flicked and twirled at the tip, and you heard him gulp down his warm fluids. You looked down and saw his thick, white cum coat his tongue as he pulled it into his mouth, and you felt your body shake once more. You came again and pulled his face back into you, burying him into your scent. He cleaned up the remains of your orgasm and sighed in contentment. Bubba pulled away much too soon, as you could stay there with his head between your legs for hours. But alas, he pulled away, the both of you satisfied. Bubba repositioned himself and rested his head on your chest. The two of you stayed there for what felt like an eternal paradise. His heavy weight on you was a comforting presence, and the slow rhythm of your joined breathing sent your heart into peace. All was still, quiet, and perfect. Until your voice broke through the silence. “Run away with me, Bubba.” Bubba’s head perked up from your chest. He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. You repeated yourself. “Run away with me. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to be with them. Come with me. Please?” Bubba sat up and stared at you with the same quizzical expression. You sat up next to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “You won’t be hurt anymore. You won’t have to be scared. And you’ll be with me! Please? Please, Bubba?” He stared at you for much too long. His eyes flicked from side to side until ultimately, he shook his head no. You felt your heart throb in your chest as it sunk into a pit. A sob got stuck in your throat. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You went to hold him, but he caught you by the arms. He shook his head. “Why? Why won’t you come with me?” Your voice began to crack from the sobs you were desperately trying to hold at bay. Bubba turned to the side, to the distant sound of voices, and pointed. He jabbed a finger in the air, and then slowly brought the flat of his palm to his chest. Family. “No, no, no! That’s not an excuse for how they treat you! You don’t deserve that!” Your mind became clouded with emotions. Sadness, pain, anger mixed into a volatile cocktail. “Fine! Fine, then. Stay here.” You started to dress yourself. While you picked up your clothes from the floor, Bubba tried to grab you. You shook him away as tears streamed down your face. “I’m out of here, Bubba. I’m going. I’m running and I’ll keep running. Join me or not, I don’t care.” You managed to get your shirt and pants on in a hurry, and you stood up in indignation. “But I’m going to have a little chat with them first.” Bubba began to squeal in a panic. No, the squeals said, they’ll hurt you, they’ll kill you, you must stay hidden. Before he could grab you and hold you back, you were out the door and heading down the stairs. About halfway down, you realized what you were doing. What were you thinking? They were the dangerous ones. They were the ones Bubba was afraid of, especially Drayton. And here you were, with a death wish. But it was too late now. “Hey!” Your voice rang out like a loud bell through the home. It pierced their usual sounds and instilled silence over the house. You turned the corner to find Drayton and Nubbins together talking. Their confusion was probably the only reason you were alive right now. You had the element of surprise. “You goddamn bastard!” You pointed at Drayton and closed the few feet between you to be able to jab at his chest with your finger. Your words spewed our with hatred anger in quick succession. “You fucking asshole how dare you hurt Bubba like that I should fucking gut you–” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but Nubbins stopped you before you could go any further. He grabbed you by the arms and held you back. His thin frame held a surprising strength and in a moment you were immobilized. You continued to shout obscenities at Drayton, and they only got louder once he took a step closer to you. He opened his mouth to order Nubbins to do something to you, hurt you most likely, but he didn’t get a chance to say it. Bubba thundered into the room, came up from behind Nubbins, and grabbed him by the neck. He grunted like a madman. It was with such a fury that you had never heard from him before. Nubbins let go of you out of shock. He was quickly tossed aside, and fell on a chair decorated with bones of previous meals. He landed in a clatter and the room was in an uproar. You were screaming at Drayton who was screaming at Nubbins who was screaming at Bubba who was howling and grunting like a maniac. Bubba took you into his arms and shielded you from his family. His giant frame protected you from all of them, and when they saw this, the two quieted. “What the hell is going on here?” Drayton asked Bubba. “Have you been hiding someone in your room? Part of those college kids?” “It is! It is!” Nubbins shouted. “I remember!” His mouth stretched into a toothy grin. Bubba gave a quick nod, but didn’t look at Drayton or Nubbins. Bubba stood between you and his bully, and his eyes were glued to the ground. “What the fuck were you thinking? Get rid of it now!” Bubba let out a defiant huff and shook his head no. You knew in that moment that neither of them were going to touch you. “Bubba! Do as I say!” Bubba shook his head even harder now. His entire body was trembling. He was afraid. You reached out and touched his arm to let him know you were still there. Even without looking at you, his body strengthened and he straightened himself up to his full height. “I’m thinking maybe Bubba has got a crush!” Nubbins laughed. “Good for him!” He laughed harder and turned to Drayton. “Aww come on, let the boy have something good for once!” “Something good? He’s got one of these fucking little shits as a pet!” “Hey!” You yelled out. “I’m no one’s pet! I could leave if I wanted to! I could...I could! But I’m here for Bubba.” “Come on, Drayton,” Nubbins whined. “It’s someone new to play with. It’s someone I can photograph. For free!” Drayton obviously wasn’t expecting this sort of resistance. You never thought you would feel this way, but you were actually grateful for Nubbins presence. “Bubba—“ Drayton began, but Bubba’s incoherent babbling cut him off. It seemed like Drayton was more used to it, and could decipher a bit here and there, or at least get the notion that you were Bubba’s and here to stay. Here to stay huh? You didn’t know if you wanted to stay. But you couldn’t leave Bubba here alone. Now, you had the chance to protect him. And maybe a chance to convince him to one day leave with you. You could see the invisible hackles begin to soften on Drayton’s back. He watched Bubba and his desperate attempt to save you, to protect you. There was at least one semblance of a conscience in him. “Well, I guess it’s not too much of a bother.” Nubbins managed to get up from his place on the floor and howled with a cheer. He stepped over to Bubba and gave him a playful slap on the back. Bubba looked at him from behind his mask and smiled his little scraggly-toothed grin that you could just die for. Nubbins turned to you, still under Bubba’s watchful eye, and held out a hand. It looked like he was coursing with energy as he shuffled from foot to foot, and gave a nervous laugh. “Welcome to the family, I guess!” You hesitated for a moment. You tuned to Bubba and once you received sign of his approval, you took Nubbin’s hyperactive hand and gave it a good, stern shake. You and Bubba turned to Drayton, who stood with a clear look of disapproval. He sighed. “Bubba’s gonna grow bored of you, and once he does, I’ll end up cleaning the mess.” He shook his head and walked out of the room. You knew he was trying to scare you. A minuscule part of you worried that he might be right. But even though you had only known Bubba for a short time, you knew he would never hurt you. He would protect you. He would fight for you. He would kill for you. He would die for you. Bubba was your loyal pet. And you would protect him just as he would with you. Nubbins slowly crept out of the room, and the two of you were finally alone again. “I’m sorry, Bubba. I know, it was dangerous. I just—I just don’t want them to hurt you anymore. I’m going to protect you from now on, okay? I’ll always be here for you.” Bubba whimpered and tilted his head to one side. He wondered how he could deserve this kindness. But you knew he did. He leaned down and held his hand to the back of your head. Held in place, he kissed you fiercely, his lips soft and strong against you. Bubba pulled away too soon, although every kiss would end too soon with him. He dug something out of his apron pocket and handed it to you. The small bird skull rested in the giant palm of his hand. It looked so delicate and frail. His hand was large, meaty, brutal, and yet, he held this skull with the utmost care. You took it from him and thanked him. The hot sun had fully entered the sky, and sweat began to seep from your pores. Rot grew both inside and outside of the Sawyer house, but within you, love blossomed.

#the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre #leatherface #bubba sawyer #leatherface x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #slashers #slasher fic #The Saw is Family #devilgoat writing

[nochuuuenthusiast]

approval

hi guys! i’m so sorry... this series is taking me forever to edit and perfect ahhh! i’ll try to post the next part of this series sometime this week (maybe friday~ ish)... okay well here you go, and i hope you have an amazing day :)

plot: jungkook gets your parents’ approval

genre: fluff

word count: 2286

(a/n): peep jungkook’s elephant moles... hehehe so so so cute !

He was pacing back and forth of his large closet, thinking of all the things that could go wrong.

What if they secretly don’t like me? What if they think i’m not good enough for her? What if they don’t give me their approval?

Just at the thought of disapproval, Jungkook sweat even more. His hands were becoming more and more clammy.

You and Jungkook have been dating for 3 years now and Jungkook had already made up his mind: he was ready to marry you. It’s not like he wasn’t ready before (in fact, he had already been seriously thinking about marrying you since the first year you guys started dating), but both of your busy schedules never allowed him to sit down and plan everything. And despite his hectic idol life, he knew that he was more ready to marry you now than he’ll ever be. He was committed to you. He loved you. And because he loved you, he needed to confront your parents first.

You guys had talked about marriage before but it was always in a lighthearted way-- not anything serious... at least in your eyes. Jungkook recalled a memory of your second anniversary when you walked along the Han River, holding hands, as you talked about your future together. He was trying to subtly get your insight about marriage and was trying to ask you questions in a “hypothetical manner” so that you wouldn’t think that he was being serious... and it worked... you had no clue.... and Jungkook got exactly what he wanted.

“(y/n)ah... how would you like to get proposed to?”

Jungkook was trying his best to be subtle... he didn’t want you to get freaked out and think that he was going to propose to you anytime soon.

“Ahaha well... when I was really little, I always imagined my proposal to be reallyyy romantic... and private. I don’t think I’d want to be proposed to in front of a crowd... I’d feel to pressured and I think I would be too embarrassed to appreciate the moment...” Note taken.

“And I mean... this is really cheesy but 10 year old (y/n) always dreamed of being proposed to on top of the Eiffel Tower during the nighttime... with a beautiful view of Paris in the background. I’d be staring off into the distance, enjoying the view... and when I turn around, I’d see him on one knee with a sparkling diamond ring in his palm, but at the same time... 10 year old (y/n) never thought about things realistically so I don’t think that would ever happen...” you rambled on by yourself while Jungkook admired your words.

“But now that I’m older, I’ve set more realistic expectations... like a complete surprise with bouquet of the prettiest pink and white flowers and some wine... hehehe... I know... my expectations have totally downgraded... but hey, it’s still pretty romantic.” At this point, you didn’t even care if Jungkook was paying attention or not... you were just having fun fantasizing about your imaginative proposal.

“But before any of that happens, he has to get my parents’ approval first. They’re so important to me and I love them so much... if he didn’t ask them for permission first and I found out... I would feel like I betrayed them,” you said in a more serious tone. Second note taken.

“But anyways... these are all hypotheticals anyways,” you said, trying to shift your focus away from the topic of proposals.

Jungkook listened intently and made sure to keep all of this information stored in his brain... he knew that it would be useful later...

And now that Jungkook was one step closer to asking you to marry him, he was beginning to recall of those memories again. He knew he had to ask you parents... he knew how important their approval was to you... and he especially didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if he didn’t ask them for permission.

They’ll like me, right?

Jungkook has met them several times before, but for some reason... he was feeling more insecure with himself today. He had no idea what they would say and he didn’t want to mess anything up since he knew his heart would rot away if he didn’t marry you. You were too important to him. He’d never loved anyone more than you.

Jungkook continued to pace back and forth inside of his closet... trying to formulate the perfect outfit. He didn’t want to look too formal... so no tuxedo. But he also didn’t want to look too informal... they would think that he didn’t view this as important... so no jeans. After what seemed to be half an hour of concentrating on his outfit, he finally decided on wearing his dress pants with a loose white button up shirt. He sprayed his lightest-smelling cologne and touched up his hair so that it didn’t look like he just woke up.

5:00pm. It was time. Jungkook told your parents that he would be at their house by 6:00pm and have dinner with them. His hands couldn’t have been clammier than they already were.

He stared at this reflection in the full body mirror one last time to see if he had any imperfections, and when he couldn’t detect any, he went to his shoe rack to put on his cleanest shoes. Jungkook grabbed his keys and a bottle of water... he’d be needing it if he started to get sweaty and nervous again.

He let out one big sigh that had been building up since his nerves began, and headed out the door. Finally. The day has come. I’m one step closer to my goal. My future.

It took Jungkook 30 minutes to arrive at your parents’ house and another 20 minutes to get the courage to walk up to their door. This was the most anxious he had already felt.

He had already asked his members for their advice about a week ago when he first told them that he had bought a ring and that he was going to marry you... at least he hoped he would... he wouldn’t know until after this day was over.

“You’re gonna be fine Jungkook... they love you... they’re gonna say ‘yes,’” Namjoon said.

“Yeah Jungkook... you’re gonna be okay,” Jimin chimed in.

“Aww our maknae is all grown up... he’s getting married~” Jhope said.

Despite their reassurance, Jungkook was still doubtful. He didn’t know what to expect from your parents. Who knows? What if they never liked him from the start and they were just being nice to him without ever expecting him to marry you. They did always seem skeptical about his career... he had a feeling that they though that being an idol as someone’s main career was unstable and risky. Because he was an idol, he always thought they thought of him as incapable and not good enough for you. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

Jungkook closed his eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He reopened his eyes. This was it. He had nothing to lose.

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

Within a matter of seconds, your mom opened the door and welcomed Jungkook with a hearty smile. He bowed instantly and began to take off his shoes before entering the house. He always loved your mom... she reminded him of you...

“Oh Jungkook! You came! We haven’t seen you in such a long time~ come in, come in,” she said as she ushered him in.

“Wahhh~ Jungkook~ how did you get more handsome from the last time I saw you! I watched your new music video by the way! Bangtan, fighting!” she said merrily as she laughed by herself. Even her laugh reminded him of you...

Jungkook received the compliment your mother gave him and he took a seat on the sofa... he shook his legs as he waited for you father to appear. He never knew what your father thought of him... he was very protective of his one and only daughter...Jungkook was intimidated from the very beginning. 

“HONEY!!! JUNGKOOK’S HERE! COME DOWNSTAIRS~” Your mom yelled so that your father was notified that Jungkook was here. 

Phew... deep breaths Jungkook, deep breaths... In. Out. 

His palms were sweating profusely. He wiped the sweat on his pants. 

Jungkook could hear your father walking towards him from the hallway of the small home. Jungkook prepared himself for the worst and stood up to greet the man who would soon determine the course of his life with a simple “yes” or “no.” 

“Nae~ annyeonghaseyo~” Jungkook gave him his 90 degree bow. 

“Oh~ Jungkook~ nice to see you,” your father greeted him when he saw Jungkook.

“Come sit... you said you wanted to talk to us about something,” he said as he walked with your mother to his seat in the living room. 

You rmother placed a bowl of fruit on the glass coffee table that was in front of the seats and Jungkook took a seat across from them. He wanted to seem as formal as possible... their approval was the only thing he needed right now...

“Yes, um...” Jungkook was fidgeting with his thumbs underneath the coffee table. “Um... well, I’ve been with your daughter for quite a long time...” He couldn’t believe he was doing this right now. 

Your father put down his fork on top of his napkin and leaned back against his chair to concentrate on Jungkook’s words. He scrunched his nose in concentration and Jungkook didn’t know whether he was disliking his statement or not... well... there was no turning back now... 

“And I love her very much... So much to the point where I’ve decided that I want to marry her... but I know how much you both mean to her so I came to ask for your permission for her hand in marriage.” Jungkook’s heart had never beat as fast as it had at that moment.

Your father and mother looked at each other and Jungkook’s couldn’t tell whether they were upset or excited... he needed to know... his heart was about to burst open... and the silence wasn’t helping either. 

Please, please, please, please, please... 

Your  father looked into Jungkook’s eyes and saw pure desperation and nervousness. He knew that Jungkook loved you. If he didn’t love you... he wouldn’t look this desperate or worried... he knew that he was meant for you. He had seen it before... He saw when Jungkook hugged you from behind when you were feeling stressed about the project that your boss told you to finish earlier than the due date. He saw when Jungkook kissed your knee when you fell over and scraped it because you were wearing high heels. He saw when Jungkook would let you rest your head on his shoulder as you slowly drifted off into sleep. He saw when Jungkook stared deeply into your eyes and whispered “I love you” to your ear when you were fast asleep. 

He saw all of this from a distance and he knew that Jungkook treated you like an angel. He knew that Jungkook loved you. He knew that he couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law.

Although your father never seemed to give any reactions towards Jungkook, he only did that to see if Jungkook would still want to be with you after seeing how emotionless he could be. And indeed, Jungkook had enough courage to still want to be with you. 

“Jungkook...” your father looked at your mother as she gave him a small nod. “Of course... you have our full permission. Treat her well. She’s too precious to let go. We know how much you love her. And we also know how much she loves you...” 

Jungkook lifted his eyes and didn’t know how to contain his happiness. 

Did I hear that right? They gave me permission...

“I’m looking forward to the wedding, son,” your father said as he smiled. 

“Yes sir... I promise,” Jungkook said firmly and smiled in glee. He couldn’t believe it. He got their permission-- what he wanted most in life. He was ecstatic. 

“Do you have the ring with you?” your mother asked, curious to see what kind of ring he bought for you. 

“Yes, I do, actually.” Jungkook reached into the front pocket on his pants and reached in to get the diamond ring that he bought a month ago from the most expensive jeweler that he could book. 

“Oh my goodness~ look at the size of that diamond! (y/n)’s gonna love that,” your mom said as she continued to stare at the ring. 

Jungkook had spent a pretty penny on the ring but he did not feel even the tiniest bit of regret... you deserved it and he loved you too much... he felt the urge to spoil you. 

"I wish (y/n)’s father would have gotten me a ring like this~” your mother teased. “Why don’t you take a look at Jungkook and learn how to be more romantic for you wife,” your mother said as she shifted her attention towards your father. 

“Hey! Your ring was just as nice as this... it was very expensive, you know that?” your father responded.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile and laugh at their playful banter. He wanted you two to be like your parents in the future... loving, even after years and years of marriage. 

“Okay well if that’s all settled then, let’s go eat... the food’s getting cold,” your mother said. 

Everyone stood up from their seats and headed towards the dining table... I still can’t believe this is real... I’m gonna ask (y/n) to marry me. 

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #fluff #bts fluff #kpop fluff #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #scenario #kpop

[kinaaadman]

Living Among the Dead: Day 118

m.y.f. gueco

photo by: pinterest

Day 116

A brown haired guy slowly walked behind a car, peeking to a pack of Goners. He sighed as he tightly held his knife. A mini store is just 3 feet away from him, but he can’t go any near, since the pack is roaming around the store.

It’s been almost 4 months, since the patient zero has infected patient one, until all of the human race is about to end.

He decided to enter the car and start it, to attract the attention of the Goners. As the car starts to make sound, he ran and hide behind a near car. The Goners starts to attack the car and making unpleasant noise.

He maked a signal, ran around the store and opened the back door.

10 minutes pass…

The brown haired guy walked out the store, and a red haired guy followed him while eating a bag of chips.

“Why don’t we go to Maryland?” The brown haired guy paused and raised his eyebrow.

“And where did you get that idea from, Daryl?” Daryl handed a note to the brown haired guy. And he read the note.

If you survive, go to Maryland.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” Daryl tried to stop the brown haired guy from tearing the paper. But the pieces of papers immediately flew away.

“What is wrong with you Rick?!” Rick just shrugged and start to walk.

“We can’t find enough food for a week, we’re low in ammo, and Washington is dead, full of rotting Goners!” Rick stopped and look back.

“And we can’t take the risk to go there. Do you know how far Maryland is?! We’re in the god damn Washington, it’s 2,220 miles from here!”

“We can look for a car and scavenge enough gas. We need to try Rick.” Rick pause for a while and stared at Daryl.

“Okay, fine. But you’re the one, who’s going to that.” He returned to the store and sleep down the counter.

As time goes by…

Rick woke up soaking in cold sweat and holding dearly his MP5 gun. Trembling in fear, as he recall his nightmare. Daryl died, as he shoot himself.

He directly point his gun to the back door as he heard a sound, a tiredly soaking in blood Daryl came in. He jumped and ran to him, checking for bite marks or wounds.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” Rick helped him to seat in the counter. He ripped his clothes that made Daryl yelp.

“Don’t be a baby, I already saw everything back in the camp.”

“I was jus-just startled.”

Rick looked every inch of pale white Daryl’s body to look for a wound or scratch. He then get a bottled water and damped a cloth, when Daryl stopped him.

“Why are you wasting the wat-“

“Could you just shut up?” Rick starts to clean the blood stain in Daryl’s body.

Daryl couldn’t stop staring at Rick. He never did this to him, even back in the military camp. He would just stay away from him, to avoid getting stained. Then he felt a sensation in his stomach.

“What are you staring at? You being gay to me?” Rick smirk and throw a new shirt.

“How many bullets left?” Rick opened a can of sardines and started to eat.

“I used 20 bullets, so maybe around 20. And you have 24, plus the remaining bullets you have in your gun.”

“Damn it. Maryland better pays.” He gave the remaining sardines to Daryl and stood up.

“Eat, then sleep. We go when the sun rises.”

 Day 117

Cold breeze and fresh air flashed to their skin, as they pass by the landfields. After a long time, they felt peace. They would exchange anything, just for a day like this.

“It’s nice, right?” Rick looked at Daryl, he smiled and nodded.

“I wish it wi-“

SCREEECH!

They stopped when they saw a man and woman, waving at them. They looked at each other.

They slowly get out of the car, and approached them.

“We have food and water, but we run out of gas. We could exchange food and water for gas.” The woman smiled warmly.

“Yeah, we can enjoy the food together. My wife’s a good cook.” The man stepped forward.

Daryl seemed to be pleased, excited for new people. While Rick, is cautious, analyzing if they should be trusted.

“No thanks, we have eno-“

“What are you saying? We don’t have food for tomorrow, there’s only 2 cans left.” Daryl pulls the hem of the shirt of Rick.

“I don’t trust them.”

“You don’t trust anyone, besides me.”

“And that keep us safe.” Rick look at Daryl sternly.

“We’re good. Thanks for asking.” Rick’s about to turn around when he saw a M16 rifle in the woman’s back.

“But weren’t asking.” Then the man started to shoot.

Rick immediately pushed Daryl, but a bullet shot Daryl in the shoulder. He pulled him behind the hays.

He pulled Daryl’s mini uzi gun and started shooting them. They shouted in pain and starts to crawl.

He checked Daryl. Seing he passsed out, he cursed.

They started to shoot again, he peeked and saw that they’re crawling back.

Then they shoot again, he analyzed that they have 30 rounds of bullets. They got at least more than half of the bullets.

He lifted his gun and shot 2 times, they backfire. He repeated it, and exactly as he thought, they reloaded.

He smirked and stood up, aiming at them. Looked at them, and mercilessly shoot them multiple of times.

He returned to Daryl, sat him besides him and tried to wake him up. Fear, pain and anger start to overflow. Tears slowly fall on his face, till they flood and blur his eyes.

“Daryl, wake up! Come on, man!” He wiped his tears, but silence answered him. He put his ear to his mouth, to see if he’s still breathing.

“I-I’m fine…” Daryl whispered. Rick gasped and tightly hugged Daryl. Thinking how painful it is to lose him.

They stood up, and approached the van. Rick left Daryl few feet away, and check if there’s still someone in the van. Nothing to see, he comes back to Daryl and helped him lean on the van.

“I’ll be back. I’ll just get our things, then fix you.” Daryl nodded.

He immediately took their bags, with their few canned goods and ammo.

As Rick walked back, he heard a child babbles. He slowly and cautiously approached the van, aiming his gun and ready to shoot.

Then he saw Daryl holding a year old baby. He furrowed his eyebrows in curiousity. Daryl look back at him with a smile and excitement.

“Where did you get that thing?” He walked pass them and checked the van.

“First of all, it’s not a thing. It’s a baby, a baby boy. And I saw him inside the van.” Rick paused and looked at Daryl. He rolled his eyes, as he saw guilt in Daryl’s eyes.

“I don’t feel guilty for killing them. They shoot us first, they shot you.” He look inside the van, and saw a box of food supply, water bottles, and baby formula and bottles. He smiled and looked back, he saw Daryl playing with the baby, he frowned.

“Drop that thing, and let’s go!” Daryl looked at him dead shock.

“You didn’t just said that.” Rick scoffed.

“I just did, and I’m not telling it again.”

“We can’t jus-“

“Why not?! They shot you, Daryl. They almost killed us!” He angrily punched the van, that cause the baby to cry.

“For Christ’s sake! I hate baby noise, they crap smelly, the-“ Daryl stopped Rick from talking, by kissing him. Rick’s eyes widened in surprise, an unfamiliar and odd sensation in his body emerged. Without realizing, he’s kissing him back.

They stopped to breath. As they breath, they deeply and meaningfully looked at each other.

“Let’s go, before it gets dark. I’ll fix my shoulder, just drive.” Daryl tapped Rick’s shoulder and leave him speechless.

“Idiot.” He smirked and approached the van.

3 hours passed…

“How’s your wound?” Rick looked at the rear-view mirror, as he drives.

“Fine, good thing the bullet went through.” Daryl starts to play with the child again, and Rick just shooked his head.

Then the car slowed down, Rick looked at the dashboard and saw the gas is empty. He hitted the wheel in annoyance.

“We need to walk, Maryland is near.” He looked back at Daryl, and the baby.

“How are we suppose to bring that thin-“

“Karl. That is his name.”

“Whatever. What do you suggest Mr. Tagg we do?” Daryl smirk.

A while…

“Did you put your silencer in your gun?” Daryl nodded.

“Your knife?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go!” Rick lit the cloth and throw it to the van, it immediately burn. The Goners start to approached the van and create noise. The slowly walked, far away from the van.

They were covered in blanckets, with blood and guts from Goners. To disguise like them. While Karl is hiding in Daryl’s blancket.

Suddenly Karl started to cry, getting hungry. Daryl and Rick looked at each other, as they immediately take the baby bottle from their bag.

Some Goners heard the noise, and started to approach them. As Rick got the bottle, he gave it to Daryl.

Rick started to stab Goners’ heads. Blood splattering to his face.

“Run! Find a nearest shelter!” He said, as Daryl ran to looked for a hideout.

As Goners starts to crowding Rick, he pulled his gun and start to shoot them. Kicking and pushing them, to prevent them getting near.

“Ahhh!” Rick looked back, and saw Daryl bitten by a Goner. He ran to him and shoot the head of the Goner.

He looked at him teary, Daryl just smiled sadly as he pulled his gun to fight. They nodded and started to shoot.

Packs of Goners started to surround them, adding that Karl started to cry again. Feeling that death is about to take them. They held each other’s hands and kissed, for the last time.

Boom! Boom!

They tremble as grenage thrown near them. Rick hugged Daryl, to cover him.

They looked up as the explotion stopped, and bright light is focused on them. They slowly stood up.

A man approached them, big, muscular and hairy one. He smiled at them warmly.

“We came to help you. Are you okay?”

“Who are you?” Rick pull Daryl behind him.

“We are the Hope, a community here in Maryland. We have foods, medical facilities, and security.”

“How can we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Come with us, and see.”

“You should go Rick, take Karl with you.” His forehead furrowed.

“What?! No, you’re coming with us.”

“No! I’m bitten, but you and Karl aren’t. Please take them!” Daryl looked at the man.

“Please! Just go, and leave me here.”

He took off his blanket, and gave Karl to Rick.

“Can’t we take him there, until he become- I’ll deal with it when he turns.” Rick looked at the man.

“I’m sorry we can’t take the risk.” He clenched his fist.

“Put us in a room, then if he turn into a Goner. I’ll kill him. I ju-just can’t leave him here. I want to give him everything before he dies. Please!” Rick kneeled as he beg. The man stood him up.

“Okay, fine. Make sure to end it, okay?” Rick nodded. He looked back at Daryl and smiled.

“Why Rick? Why?” He pulled him closer.

“Because I love you.” The he kissed Daryl.

 Day 805

A brown haired guy walks down the stair, taking flower from the table. He enters a room, smiling at a red haired boy. He offered his hands, and the boy took it.

They passed few people, greeting them with warm smiles, they enter a yard. Full of cross statues, names were engraved and dried flowers besides them.

A red tomb with an engrave says “Here lies Daryl Tagg-Hax”. They sat near it, as he put down the flower.

“Karl this is Daryl, a very good friend of mine.” Rick pointed the tomb, and smile sadly.

“He’s already 4 years old, Daryl. But still can’t say a word.” Slowly touching the tomb, a tear fell on his cheek.

“Da-da.” Karl giggles. Rick looked eye widen at Karl, joy and satisfaction arise to him.

“Maybe I’m wrong, Daryl. Maybe.”

#creativewriting #12jotham_group_three #dead #shortstory

[fireofmyloins19]

Going home - part one

Tommy and Nurse in the war.

Thomas Shelby - Going home part one

The smell of rotting flesh was overwhelming in the cramped tent. The blood curdling cries of the wounded soldiers rang through her ears but she blocked it out as she had become accustomed to do whilst she was trying to fix up the soldier that lay in front of her.

“Sir you must stay still”

“Easier said than done”

Another ear piercing cry left his mouth when she placed the cloth on his open flesh to clean one of his many wounds. One hand rested on his shoulder as she fought with his writhing body, tempting to stop his movement but his strength overpowered her.

“What’s your name?”

“John Shelby” he managed in between groans.

“Well John, I just need you to lie still for me okay? The stiller you are, the quicker this gets done”

She leant in a second time, hoping her gentle words would have calmed him slightly but it was no use, “Annie! I need more Chloroform.”

Within seconds the accompanying nurse was at her side with the jar in hand. She swiftly took it from her and poured a plentiful amount onto a clean cloth, thrusting it towards John who gratefully swiped it from her hands and inhaled deeply.

“Right, now you must stay still”

John merely nodded in response to which she returned to her crouched position, getting close to the wound and beginning to clean once again. After agonising minutes of  his continued screams despite the anesthetic, she had finally removed what debris she could from the bullet wounds and wrapped him up in clean bandages. She was finishing off the last one, winding it round his arm gently and leaning to the side table to collect a pin when she heard a second man speak.

“How’s he holding?”

She glanced over her shoulder to see a soldier, covered head to toe in mud but seemingly uninjured, a rare sight in her tent. Before she had chance to speak a smile appeared on his face when he looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the John laid on the bed awake.

“Brother” He walked towards the bed and lent over, wrapping an arm around his brothers head giving him a sort of hug whilst John managed to lift an arm and gave him a pat on the back.

“Careful” She warned apprehensively, not wanting to interrupt their reunion but also not wanting her hard work to come undone in seconds and the man’s cries to be perishing her station again so soon. They broke off the hug and glanced towards her, a soft smile appeared on her face when they seemed to understand her concern, the uninjured soldier who now stood on the opposite side of the bed nodded to her lightly, “I’ll leave you boys too it.”

The hum of distant gunfire and explosives could have easily been mistaken for thunder, but as she sat staring up at the unusually clear sky and the distant sounds being now oh so familiar to her, she knew that was not the case. Although she liked to to try make herself believe it.

“Smoke?”

She dragged her gaze away from the sea of blue to be encompassed in another, meeting his eyes as they stared down at her. She sat up straighter and brushed down her pinafore, innocently clearing the dirt off even though the deep red splatters of blood remained.

He crouched beside her, joining her on the dried up ground and handed her a cigarette.

“I believe a thank you is in order”

She turned to him in confusion for a moment before understanding his words.

“Oh your brother? Don’t be silly, It’s just my job”

“Well, thank you anyway,” she didn’t look at him but nodded with a polite smile, “how’s he looking, truthfully?”

“Not great currently, he will need to be transferred. There’s no way he can stay here with the injuries he has sustained, the wounds are several and deep and we no longer have a great supply disinfectant needed to treat wounds like his, he’s at risk of getting gangrene or worse. My guess is he will be discharged under ‘no longer physically fit for service’”

“Where will they send him?”

“To a proper hospital in the centre of France and then my guess is London, St Thomas’s or somewhere close. That’s where they seem to be sending most of them recently”

She saw the disheartened look on his face at the uncertainty of his brother’s whereabouts, the slight guilt from being so nonchalant about the situation flooded over her and she lent towards him, nudging his side slightly.

“Anywhere is better than here, right?” he looked towards her with a small smile, acknowledging the truth in her words and went to take another drag from his cigarette, “What’s your name?”

“Tommy”

“Shelby, like your brother?”

“Yeah, yours?”

“Faith”

She heard him almost chuckle, almost. She thought they may both have, if it wasn’t for the circumstances.

“Very fitting”

“Yeah, something I don’t have much of these days”

Their heads moved in unison, slowly side to side, their eyes following the trail of every passing truck whilst they both silently acknowledge their damage from war. The odd soldier trudged past through the remnants of bog from the week’s rain.

“It’ll be great to one day, wake up to something other than this again”

“It will. But it will certainly be strange, seeing men dressed in something other than their uniform”

This time she was certain he had chuckled.

“As it will for us seeing women dressed in something other than theirs.”

“You never know, I could be a nurse when I get home and still be sauntering around in this lovely pinafore” she spoke with a sarcastic tone, looking towards her lap where someone else’s blood still lay.

She was greeted by his warm smile when she met his face again, he shook his head lightly at her humour that he found admirable in such dark times. Only the ghostly choir of no man's land and mumbled orders from those in command inside the tents could be heard once again.

“I can’t really remember what being home is like. I feel like I don’t know anything other than this” she gestured towards the track marks in the man made trail and the stream of soldiers now marching from the tents, “but at the same time, I want nothing more than to go back to it.”

“That’ll be the day” she let out a sigh at his words, as though to portray the relief she would feel when that day came. She laid backwards in the mud, not thinking twice about the cleanliness of her uniform as it had already seen far worse.

“Going home would be like….the warmth of summer and the smell of spring”

He turned slightly to look at her, watching her face intently as she spoke with her eyes closed. The calm and contentment on her face as she lay there he would have envied if it weren’t for her beauty. Her poetic words causing a smirk to play on his lips.

“Ahhh,” he dragged out the noise whilst lying down beside her, closing his eyes like she had and for a moment forgetting they were laid at the side of the beaten track, next to the gory makeshift hospital within shelling distance of the German front line. “Going home would be like, the taste of Whisky after a long day”

She opened one eye and to look at him and just as quickly closed it before her angelic laughter filtered out into the clearing.

“Oh dear Sergeant Shelby, we’ll have to work on that”

“Faith!”

She swiftly turned to the direction of the voice as it startled her, the other nurses walking beside her quickly turning too. It took her a few moments for her eyes to find him but they soon did, seeing him stood in the middle of the track, an already lit cigarette now dangling from his mouth.

“No sorry, not here” she saw the wide smile spread across his lips from the distance and his laugh graced her ears although she hadn’t actually heard it. The nurses around her sniggered as they looked between one another when their eyes landed on him too, “I’ll be back soon ladies.”

She stepped away from the huddled group of nurses,  hearing their giggles and whispers even when she was part way down the track.

“Smoke?” he held the cigarette towards her once she was a few paces off and she reached out, taking it from his hand happily.

“I think you know the answer by now”

Without question they both began to walk towards their desired spot, just across from the medical tent on the edge of the track, crouching to the ground beside the wooden crates stacked up on the side. They both perched on one of the lower ones to avoid the now soaked ground as inevitably, the heavens had opened again.

“Has John been discharged?”

“Yes, just the other day. First stop a hospital in Paris and then in London, just as you said” he gave her a playful smile knowing she would be happy to accept her praise at being right.

“Well, I’ve told you I know a lot of things around here”

She couldn’t help but laugh at her own words when she heard him laugh, both taking long drags of their cigarettes in unison, the clouds of smoke lingering in the air between the two of them in the shelter of the crates. She looked towards him, having immediately noticed the gashes on his face when she saw him but being hesitant to ask, knowing the time between the two of them was a chance to be brought away from the daily horror of what was now their lives. She now decided she wanted to know. But before she had chance to ask, he caught her staring at the wounds intently.

“Tunnel collapse” his voice dragged her from her thoughts and brought her eyes to his, meeting his ever growing colder stare with sadness in hers.

“When? Where did they take you? What tent were you in?”

Her sudden panic at the shock of what she was hearing was distinct in her voice when the rush of questions came flowing from her mouth, only causing him to let out a laugh which left her bemused and slightly annoyed at his laid back approach.

“Calm down. I was in tent 4, with a nurse named Maggie and I am fine, just a few cuts and bruises, that’s all.” He saw her eyes glaring at him as she surveyed the damage and hoped she wouldn’t make the point that they were a little more than cuts and bruises, thankfully she didn’t, “I was well looked after, she was very nice to me.”

He looked ahead into the abundance of trees, taking a drag of his cigarette to try and hide his laughter, desperate to catch a glimpse of the look on her face but wanting the desired effect of winding her up. Which he knew had worked when he felt the sharp prod to his side from her elbow.

He spluttered into laughter, the smoke from his last drag getting caught in his throat and coming out in small clouds as he coughed in between the laughs and reached his arm out pulling her into his chest in a playful manner. She didn’t try and fight against it, not wanting to try and keep up an act of being annoyed at him only to miss out on his embrace. Instead she settled in his arms, letting her head nuzzle into his chest as he squeezed her, brushing her hair from her face with his free hand. After a few moments she sat up to smoke, seeing the mischievous smile hadn’t left his lips, causing her to laugh again as she tried to scowl at him.

“Just imagine when we can sit on actual comfy seats as opposed to wooden crates” she glanced down at the crate her legs hung off, a look of almost disgust on her face towards it making Tommy chuckle, seeing her bottom lip form into a pout.

“Never mind that, Imagine sleeping in an actual bed”

She let out an involuntary moan of both pleasure and despair at the thought of having a comfortable night sleep. She knelt up on her crate and rested her hands on the one stacked behind her, peering over it into the field. She let her eyes roam, watching the nurses on shift emerging from the entrance of the tent  in a panic, some crying, some vomiting. She watched the soldiers lucky enough to be away from the front line running back and forth from the military tents, some carrying letters or lists of the deceased. She almost forgot about Tommy sat behind her as her eyes became fixated on their reality.

“Going home would be like, the taste of my first cigarette of the day”

The smile made its way onto her lips before she looked back at him to acknowledge his words, she bit the side of her lip and closed her eyes for a moment finding it endearing and amusing that he was still playing along. She ducked her head away from the dismal view ahead and shuffled down from the crate, retreating to her seated position.

“Better” she praised him whilst she beamed. She paused, laying back against the crates and taking a quick drag of her now quickly disappearing cigarette. “Going home would be like a warm bath on a winter’s day.”

He looked at her in awe as a sweet smile played on her lips when she dreamt of home. The mention of home brought on a short silence that the two of them allowed, but not for long.

“Who’s waiting for you, at home?”

His words plummeted through her like a knife, a tight knot in her stomach as the lump formed in her throat when she let herself think about what she now had left to call home.

“No one” she spoke honestly, looking towards him while he looked back with sorry eyes, but she gave him a small smile as though to reassure him it was okay, “my mother died when I was young and my father and two brothers died pretty soon after the war began. That’s why I came here, volunteered”

Her voice began to trail off.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll do a bit of travelling, see what another country has to offer when it’s not in a state of war”

There was another moment of silence.

“I’m being discharged soon” he spoke softly, the words a blessing yet you wouldn’t have guessed from the tone of his voice. There was no excitement or relief present, too much had already been seen and done to ever really get away from the war.

“Me too. I think many of us here will be gone soon, they’ve held off the Somme defensive for now, haven’t they? Reckoning they won’t be needing as many soldiers when they pick it back up, therefore not as many nurses” he nodded at her, agreeing with her words. “When do you leave?”

“January 8th they reckon, you?”

“February 5th” she spoke softly, pushing herself backwards on the crate slightly and crossing her legs into a more comfortable position.

“Well you know what that means”

“What?”

“We’re not spending Christmas alone”

She tried to hide the huge smile that was forcing it’s way onto her lips when he spoke. The pit of her stomach filled with something other than disgust and despair for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right” she turned to look at him for the first time since his somewhat invitation but any other words he was about to say were drowned out by the frantic calls of her name.

“FAITH!”

“COMING”

She quickly lent forward planting a firm kiss on his cheek before hopping from the crate and disappearing behind them, running back towards her tent. The last thing he caught sight of was her cigarette butt landing in the mud and he just about caught the words she called out to him over her shoulder as she ran.

“Don’t go burying yourself in any more tunnels before I see you again!”

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