EMaz
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Summary
She turns a corner and there he is.
It seems he has come looking for her too.
He looks… different, she hazily has time to think. He’s down to a black singlet and black trousers; somewhere along the way he has disposed of his duster and the gun, though he is still carrying all the knives. His knuckles are bruised. His hair is wild, standing every which way and falling into his eyes.
And his stance…
It is terrifying.
Head held low and forward between hunched shoulders. Contours tight and rigid, tension singeing him. Violence an aura almost warping the way she perceives him. Fingers clenching and unclenching. And the scars on his face are so dark with blood that they are almost crimson.
An overhead back-up light hits his face, and she sees bared teeth. She sees eyes so infernal that they override even her Omega hormones, pierce through to the primal survival instincts lying fallow in her hindbrain.
“Ah,” he says, his voice low and full of sharp edges. Like he’s gargling on flint. “You came. Good. Good girl.”
She throws the wrench at him and turns and runs.
OR: Hermione is only meant to observe, NOT engage. Strict orders. Ironclad.
Oops.
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Summary
You knew he was obsessed. It was obvious from the way he ensured he was on your mind at every waking moment of the day.
He told you that you amused him: that you inspired him. That he was making a special place in Hell, just for you and he wouldn't hear a word of protest!
You knew he was determined to drag you down, kicking and screaming if need be. You just wished that it wasn't all because you had drunkenly bought a radio off eBay.
A Dark Hazbin Hotel fic.
[Each chapter will have 10 drabbles and each drabble should have about 100 words, though it varies depending on what program it's pasted in ಠ_ಠ]
Series
- Part 1 of Drabbles From Hell
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rules of the game by thatsparrow
Fandoms: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
28 Jun 2017
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Your breath is catching in your lungs and your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you feel like your whole goddamn body is shaking. Your world has narrowed to the anger and fear-induced tremble in your limbs and the rough and relentless hold of Negan’s fingers on your skin and the amused, expectant look he wears on his face as he looks down at you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck —
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After saving you and your group from a pack of walkers that would have guaranteed your death, Negan has you down on your knees with a barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat in your face and a decision to make: surrender everything you own over to the Saviors, or join the Sanctuary and agree to work for him.
And even though he's acting as if you have options, there's really only one choice you can make. (Negan/Reader)
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Summary
Everyone holds something close to their chest.
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only the heartless fly by NoFootprintsInSand
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
08 Feb 2026
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“You like sitting here, boy.”
The Captain. He is right behind her, she can feel it. She knows his steps, she knows them very well; she has learnt the acoustics of them trapped in the old wood of the ship. How then, she thinks furiously, could she have missed his approach?
She stiffens. Adrenaline, creature of arrested fight-or-flight, slithers swiftly up the column of her spine and settles on her shoulder.
Run, it whispers into her ear. Run, now.