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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.

She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.

Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.

***

“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”

She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.

Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”

“Well, I make a —”

“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.

“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”

“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.

“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”

Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”

She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”

She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”

“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.

“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”

“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”

(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”

Jason smirked. “No.”

“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.

“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”

(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”

“Then let me help.”

“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.

***

Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.

“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”

(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”

He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”

“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”

“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”

“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”

“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.

“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”

He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”

“Even Batman?”

Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”

“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”

“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”

“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”

“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.

“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.

“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”

“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”

He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”

(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”

“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.

“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”

Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. “That’s not what that is.”

“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”

“It isn’t,” he glowered.

“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”

“She non-lethal?”

“Mhm.”

They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”

“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”

They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.

“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”

“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.

“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”

(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”

Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.

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wasted-headspace-98 · 4 years

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Starved: Part 1

This was requested by @rogueheretic555! Thank you so much for the idea! “Can you write about a reader who doesn't like being touched? Like they dont like being touched by anyone but slowly become more comfortable around din and allow it?” I got a bit carried away, and instead of a simple oneshot, we got a whole new series out of it Mando x Reader Rating: T+ Warnings: Mentions of abuse, non con elements, panic attacks, ptsd Masterlist

Metal clinked together as the chains shifted around the room. You barely registered what was happening as your arms were raised above your head, the shackles on your wrist digging into your flesh and hoisting your arms up. Your body was lifted from its slumped position, making you arch your back and raise your head slightly. Your hair fell in your face as you tried to make out the blurry figure of the man approaching you.

You felt your skin crawl as he traced a hand across your rib cage, disgust settling over you.

“You’re getting too thin, pet. Have you not been eating?”

His voice held a tone of disapproval and a surge of fear leapt into your throat. If he got angry with you, there was no telling what the consequences would be.

“No, master,” you said meekly, hanging your head once again. “I can’t keep anything down.” You figured honesty would cause you the least amount of pain. At least, that’s the way it had been in the past.

He hummed and shook his head at you before letting out a sigh. “What am I going to do with you, pet?” He pursed his lips as he thought, his eyes raking over your naked form. You shivered under his scrutinizing gaze. How long had you been here? Days? Weeks? Years?

Time blurred together for you. But, you weren’t alone. For you, that was both a blessing and a curse. You weren’t suffering by yourself, so you had some company. But, the man that had taken you, Kelos, had taken countless other women as well. You wouldn’t wish that torture on anyone, and you felt nothing but shame when you found yourself enjoying the solace brought by the company of the others.

You were thankful, however, that you were his favorite. It meant endless hours of pain, embarrassment, and torture. But at least it meant that none of the other girls were suffering. You had a feeling that you were also the oldest. His attentions never strayed from you for too long, and you were glad that the younger girls were spared from his horrific deeds.

You felt his hand under your chin, lifting your head. You kept your eyes downcast until he told you otherwise, not wanting to anger him further. “Look at me, pet.”

Your eyes slowly swiveled up to face him. You were surprised to find a level of concern in his normally dark features.

“I don’t want you getting sick. You’ll rest for now. I’ve got a tonic I think will help you.”

Your head bobbed up and down slowly, wondering what had gotten into him. You’d been sick before. But he forced you through it, never once stopping to consider what he was doing. It made you wonder what he had up his sleeve. Was he finally going to kill you?

Death was something you would have welcomed a long time ago, something you even prayed for. You began to look forward to the day when he would decide he’d have enough of you and finally slit your throat with the blade he was so fond of using on you.

But now?

There were others that you had to consider. There were other women, children, that were in this hell of a prison. If Kelos decided to kill you, then that would mean his attention would turn to them.

The thought turned your stomach.

“Thank you, Master,” you began, daring to look up at him. “I’ll take the tonic…but I don’t need more rest, if it’s all the same to you.”

Kelos raised an eyebrow as he examined you. His hand came up to rest on your cheek, his eyes softening ever so slightly. That was the first time you had ever openly contradicted him since that first week. You learned early on that his version of a consequence was so much worse than you could have ever imagined. It was easier on you if you went along with what he asked of you. “Very well, pet.”

~*~*~*~

Things continued like that for a while. Kelos was taking the extra time to make sure you were drinking the tonic and eating what you could. He was even allowing you showers more often. He was always present, of course, but you were grateful for that one small change. He’d also been ignoring the other girls for the most part. He would taunt them every so often, tease them as usual, but he was taking better care of them. They had blankets, thin gowns they would wear, and a steady supply of food.

The whole thing made you uneasy. You knew he was a slaver and a trafficker. There were other things he was involved in that were less tasteful, and you shuddered thinking about the times your presence was required during those endeavors.

If you were being honest with yourself, it gave you a small amount of hope.

You were still disgusted with yourself and the life you led. You shook your head thinking about it, realizing that you weren’t even living. You were simply existing. You were watching through a stranger’s eyes as they monotonously went about their tasks. The small amount of comfort you had was in knowing that you were making the other girls’ lives less miserable than they had been. As long as you cooperated with Kelos, things were fine.

But then, things changed.

Kelos was on edge, which meant he was angry. And when he was angry, things were never good. He began neglecting you and the other women. Normally, that would have been a good thing. But he took his aggression out on you. He would leave you sobbing, in pain, and silently begging for death once again. At some point, the other girls began disappearing. You weren’t sure if he had killed them or if he was letting them go.

Either way, you were relieved for them.

No one deserved to live in this hellish nightmare.

You didn’t eat as often as you used to, either. He would go days without remembering to give you food. He viewed you as nothing more than a tool for his pleasure. It left you more and more broken every time. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

~*~*~*~

It had been several days since you last saw Kelos. You were glad for the reprieve. The last time he had visited you, he left more damage than usual. Your voice was still raspy and your windpipe was still bruised. The cuts on your stomach were beginning to get an infection, and you knew they would only get worse if you couldn’t take care of them.

You were attempting to pull yourself up, leaning against the wall beside the bed to inspect your legs. They’d taken the worst amount of damage. The shackles he used were getting more painful. The last set he had used set several pins into your legs, the metal digging into your flesh to make sure you’d stay in place. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice anyway. You sighed at the sight, quietly shaking your head. You were fairly sure he had fractured your ankle as well, judging by the bruising and swelling.

The door hissed open and you fell back to the floor with a gasp, the sudden motion sending you into a panic. You slipped back to the floor, wincing in pain as you did. Kelos burst into the room, completely ignoring you as he made his way to the back. He was in a hurry about something, and you watched with wide eyes as he started shoving things into a backpack.

He was muttering to himself, but what he was saying, you couldn’t make out. But he was scared. And that scared you.

“Kelos-“ you attempted, your voice weak and scratchy.

“Quiet!” he snarled, whirling around to face you. You promptly scrambled backwards, away from him. “You’re the reason I’m in this mess to start with!”

Your eyes widened as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. What was he talking about? What mess?

“I treated you well!” he snapped, grabbing you and hoisting you up. You tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. He was twice your size and you were completely malnourished. Even if you were at your best, you didn’t think you could have fought him off. “I kept you alive! I kept you from the Reavers! And this is how you repay me?!”

Your mouth opened to let out a scream as he wrapped his hands around your throat. His eyes held murder as he threw you towards the bed. You grunted at the impact and tried to push yourself away from him. He was faster than you and grabbed your injured ankle, making you cry out as he dragged you back towards him. He continued screaming at you as he pinned you to the mattress, his hands once again wrapping around your neck.

As he straddled your hips, pressing you into the mattress, you came to a startling realization. He was going to kill you.

Something stirred within you, something instinctual and primal. You didn’t want to die. You felt a sudden rush of determination flood your system. You knew you were going to fight tooth and nail. After everything your been through, you’d be damned to just give up now.

You gathered what strength you had left and grabbed at his wrists, digging your nails as deep into his skin as you could you had a vice like grip on him, and you could tell that he was surprised at the effort you were using. Ignoring the searing pain in your leg, you managed to struggle to bring your legs around and locked his into place before thrusting your hips upward and throwing your body to the side. He grunted in surprise at the force you used, not thinking you were going to put up much of a fight.

As he rolled off of you, he lost his grip on your throat as he struggled to right himself. You scrambled off the bed and towards the door before realizing your fatal mistake. You screamed in pain as the chain suddenly went taut, digging into and snapping around your already injured ankle. You dropped to the floor and Kelos lunged toward you with a growl.

You cursed yourself for not having picked the lock on the shackle while he was gone. Another scream fell from your lips when Kelos yanked on the chain, dragging you backwards. Your body was already damaged enough, and the sudden burst of adrenaline was quickly fading away. You dug your fingers into anything you could get ahold on, but it wasn’t any use.

“This is it, pet.” Kelos said, pulling a knife and pressing it to your throat once he had pulled you back to him. Feeling the cold metal against your skin made you stop in your tracks. He’d cut you before, so the threat wasn’t anything new. But feeling the blade dig into your throat had you fighting the urge to swallow. “It was fun while it lasted.”

You glared up at him. “Burn on Mustafar, Kelos!” you spat, quite literally, in his face.

He glared down at you, a growl coming from the back of his throat as he dragged the knife slowly across your throat. You winced, but you knew it wasn’t deep enough to cause too much damage. What really scared you was when he sunk the tip into your chest. You let out a howl of pain as he slowly pressed the blade in deeper, bit by bit. You tried to writhe out of his grip, but it was no use. There was a twisted look of pleasure in his face and he continued to drive the knife into you.

He was going to make this take as long as possible. You knew he was one who enjoyed watching the pain of others, and this was no different. It disgusted you the way he pressed his hips down on you, making you painfully aware how much he was enjoying it.

You tried to ignore the sounds he was making, clenching your eyes shut and turning your head to the side. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as tears slid down your face. You just prayed that it would be over soon.

Before you could succumb to the darkness that called your name, your prayer was answered.

The door was flung off its hinges with an explosion, throwing Kelos off of you and making you scream in pain as a piece of burning metal embedded itself in your side. You tried to move out of the way, but it wasn’t any use. All you succeeded in doing was rolling onto your stomach.

“Kelos Jutar-“

You didn’t know whether to be grateful or more terrified. You groggily raised your head, trying to see what was happening. A woman with a gun stalked into the room, her blaster pointed directly at your tormentor. Her companion appeared to be a man dressed in armor with a helmet covering his face. She made a move towards Kelos and the man turned his attention to you, making you flinch.

You curled in on yourself, both in pain and out of instinct. The woman glanced at you, her eyes widening for a moment before she managed to get Kelos on his knees with his hands in cuffs.

“Are you all right?”

Your vision was starting to get blurry. You weren’t sure if you were delirious because of the pain or if you were actually hearing the mans voice. It was soft beneath the harsh tone of the modulator, and that sent a pang of fear through you.

You could tell, even beneath the blank visor he had, that he was looking at you, taking in the injuries and examining your naked form. He said something that sounded like a curse before you dropped your head back to the ground, unable to keep it up any longer.

“Help me...”

You prayed to the Maker that he would answer your plea.

“Cara!” He turned to the woman in question, who was still talking to a hologram. She glanced at him, her eyes widening when they settled on your now unconscious form. “She’s hurt pretty bad. We need to get her out of here.”

~*~*~*~

Swaying. Was that…warmth? You managed to crack your eyes open just slightly, fighting against the pull of the darkness that was ebbing into your head again. Your blurry vision focused long enough to settle on the helmet of the man that had interrupted Kelos. You tried to open your mouth, but you couldn’t get the muscles to work. Was this what death felt like?

Your shifting caused him to look down. “Easy,” he said quietly. “We’ll take care of you. You’re safe now.”

With that quiet affirmation, you drifted back into the realm of unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~

“What happened to her?”

Cara shook her head as she looked over the scans before turning back to the Mandalorian. “There’s too much damage to tell what’s new and what’s old,” she said quietly. She glanced at your limp body that was now covered in light sheets. Your skin was sickly pale and coated in a layer of sweat. “Maker only knows how long he kept her locked up like that.”

Mando growled, the sound primal behind the mask of the modulator. “Chained like an animal, you mean.”

Cara gave him a look, but bit her tongue. Instead, she sighed. “Yes. We’re lucky we found Kelos when we did. There were several bodies found as well. But it looks like she was kept alive the longest.” She nodded to you, her face betraying the emotions she felt. She’d been after the smuggler for several months after she’d gotten a tip that he was trafficking slaves. He operated one of the largest slaver rings in the quadrant, and she was more than happy to get him out of the system. But she cursed herself for taking so long to plan the assault.

The Mandalorian turned back to you, his expression hidden beneath the helmet. He wondered what horrors you had gone through, what had made you survive as long as you did. But now wasn’t the time. He’d agreed to help Cara with a job, and it wasn’t finished. He turned on his heel without a word, the leather covering his hands squeaking quietly as he clenched his fists.

“Where are you going?”

He grunted in response, barely glancing over his shoulder. “To interrogate the prisoner.”

Cara made a move to stop him but thought better of it. She knew first hand that Mando had plenty of different ways to get someone to talk. And if she was being honest, she didn’t trust herself to be in the same room as the smuggler. She would probably kill him on sight. At least Mando would have a little bit of restraint.

~*~*~*~

You bolted upright with a scream, wildly looking around for your tormentor. Your eyes were wide as you scanned the room, looking for the unknown assailant. You knew you weren’t alone. It was never that easy. He was always there, always lurking in the shadows.

“Hey, hey, easy!”

Your head whipped around to the sound of the voice and you scrambled away from it, howling when you fell off of whatever it was you were laying on.

“Calm down, you’re okay.”

He reached out to you and you immediately screaming again, throwing an arm up to protect your face as you cowered against the wall. His dark eyes were wide with an emotion that you couldn’t place as he reached toward you. “Don’t hurt me!” you begged. “Please!” You heard the door open and you looked over towards it with panic on your face and managed to scramble to your feet. “Help!”

“Hey, what’s going on?!”

You knew that voice. You hadn’t known it for long, but you knew that voice meant safety. You let out a strangled sob as you lunged towards the man in the helmet, reaching for him as the other man tried to catch you. Pain shot through your side and your leg as you stumbled towards him. Acting immediately, he grabbed your arms and helped you stand as you anchored yourself to him, your arms wrapping around him as you sobbed against his chest.

“What did you do to her?” he snapped at the other man, holding you against him. Your legs gave out beneath you and he quietly and gently lowered you to the ground, rubbing his gloved hand over your back as you started to hyperventilate.

“I don’t know!” the other man exclaimed. “She just woke up and started going crazy!”

A quiet growl sounded from the man that was supporting you and that sent another wave of terror crashing over you. “Get out.” Your arms left him and you tried to scramble away, looking at him in panic and terror at hearing the command in his voice. The other man got the hint, quickly skittering out of the room.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes were wide as you tried to process what he was saying. Your mind was in full panic mode and you couldn’t make yourself focus.

“Hey, look at me,” he said softly, gently reaching for you again. You flinched at the movement and he stopped, just holding his hands about a foot away from you. Seeing that you calmed slightly, he started speaking again. “I’m not going to hurt you, Cyar'ika.” Hearing his gentle voice made you stare at the visor with wide eyes. “But I need you to do something for me,”

Your shoulder shook slightly as you took a dee breath in and nodded quickly.

“Good. Just keep breathing like that. In and out.” He took a deep breath, gesturing slowly for you to do the same. You slowly followed suit, eventually reaching out and wrapping your hand around the gauntlet on his wrist.

“There ya go,” he said, smiling under the helmet at you. “Good job, Cyar’ika.”

You listened to his voice giving you assurances and you gradually calmed. You were still ready to flee at a moments notice, but the man in front of you posed you no immediate danger.

“Can you tell me your name?”

You took a deep breath again and nodded slowly. “Y/N.”

He tilted his head at you. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said. “I’m Din.”

Coming back to reality, you realized what was happening. “Where’s Kelos?” you whispered, eyes pleading with the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore, Cyar’ika. He’s not going to be able to hurt you.”

You nodded slowly, digesting this new information. “Thank you,” you said quietly. Din inclined his head once again. You could tell that he was burning with questions, and you were thankful that he didn’t throw them at you in a barrage. “I don’t know how long he kept me…”

He shook his head. “Don’t think about that right now.” A breath of relief escaped you. You’d dreamt of freedom for what was probably years. And now that you had it, you didn’t ever want to think about Kelos or what he had done to you ever again. But you knew you were going to have to if they were going to get him the justice he deserved. You almost scoffed at yourself. If you were being honest, the only justice that man deserved was death. Slow and painful at the hands of his prisoners.

Before you could answer him the door opened again, sending your already frazzled nerves over the edge once again. You shrank into Din, pressing yourself against his chest and whimpering quietly.

“It’s alright,” he said gently. “It’s just Cara.”

You looked up at him again and heard footfalls approaching the two of you. Fear gripped your throat so tight you could hardly breathe as you waited for the inevitable attack. But you were surprised to find another woman crouch down beside you and Din.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Relief flooded you as you realized she was the one that had put Kelos in cuffs. Her dark hair fell in waves over one of her shoulders and her eyes were keen as she appraised you. You didn’t know how to answer her, just staring dumbly back.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked.

You shrugged. It could have been days, it could have been hours. Time blurred together for you, and you honestly didn’t know which way was which.

“Let’s get you up,” Din said, moving his hands to your arms. You turned your attention to him, allowing him to help you to your feet. Once you were firmly on the ground, you quickly detached yourself from him, hugging your arms around your middle. You were happy to find that they had given you some clothes. They felt almost foreign against your skin, but you were glad for the warmth they provided. “I’ll get you some food.”

Panic gripped you again and your eyes went wide. “No,” you gasped, almost reaching for him. “Please don’t leave me.”

You weren’t sure what it was about that man that made you feel safe around him. Maybe it was the fact that the had rescued you. Maybe it was his calm demeanor. Whatever it was, you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“Okay,” he said, nodding and staying rooted to the spot.

Cara pursed her lips. “I’ll get you something. And a drink too. You’re probably dehydrated.”

“Thank you,” you said softy, casting your eyes down to the floor.

Taglist: @lordofthenerds97 @rogueheretic555 If anyone wants to be added, just let me know!

#mandalorian #din djarin #mando x reader #din x reader #the mandalorian #baby yoda #star wars #reader insert #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #requests #multichapter fic

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

The Siren’s Song (c.h)

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 3

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: A glance of hope stands in the distance as Y/N and Calum set sails to see some old friends, but the waters are not as calm as they seem.

Warnings: Mentions of murder; Torture; Violence; Blood; Abuse; Sickness; Manipulation; Language; Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Author’s Note: Had to divide the chapter into two, you’ll understand why next week ;) This is the last boring chapter, I promise. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes help a lot (please help out of this ban!) 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // tag list on bio!

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue || Chapter one || Chapter two

Ashton could hear the distant sound of thunder rumbling all over the kingdom. He thought that if he could hear that, then maybe the storm was closer than anyone could anticipate. He hasn’t seen the rain in months, let alone the sun.

He got himself into this mess, he thought. He should’ve fought harder and stopped being so naive in regards to his father.

Ever since Y/N left, he made sure to let everyone know exactly the type of person the King of RoseWood was. Letters were sent and crows were removed from their positions in different courts. Ashton would look for allies to his cause; allies that could potentially help him to take the power from his father once and for all.

It was not Ashton’s plan to take the crown at such a young age, he never asked for this even though it was bestowed upon him since birth. But he would do whatever it takes to keep his family, loved ones, and people safe; and it was more than clear that his father could not provide that same kind of security and comfort.

After the failed attempt to get his daughter married to the King of the Vail and take control of their army, King Richard went into what villagers called “a madman serenade” If the rumors said that he had lost his mind and his thirst for blood was as strong as ever, he would make sure to comply.

Richard brought the kingdom ruin, taking men out of their homes and putting them into training fields. He recruited the most fearless, sadistic men of the crow’s army and put them in charge of his new order. He lost his mind to the delusion that he will run all the kingdoms and turn them into an empire. And Ashton was almost about to uncover his plan when he was suddenly taken in the middle of the night and thrown in the dungeons like a dog.

Accused of treason and deprived of any contact with the outside and its people, Ashton swore he would not let his father win. He endured the tortures with a straight face, not saying a word to anyone that tried to pull something out of him. He spent countless nights without sleep, weeks without food, and days without water, all so that the cause and his sister could be safe.

He knew they would come for her eventually, he just hoped they had more time. Maybe he could’ve escaped by now and warned her, to make sure she and Calum are safe from the deathly grip of their father...

But instead, he was sitting in his cell once again, eyes fixed on the same spot on the wall as his lips were dry and sealed, even when the pain of the iron chains that rounded his ankles made him want to chop his limbs off. Feeling like a failure as he awaited his death. He has failed as a brother and as future King, and right now there was nothing he could do about it except listening to the thunder and the moaning of the other prisoners.

It was the dangling of the keys that caught his attention as it mixed with the sound of the heavy rain. He wondered if he was dreaming every time someone would come into the cell, hoping to wake up from the nightmare he was in, but they all made sure he lived through it. Never too much to kill him, but cruel enough to make him endure it.

“Diner,” The guard said in a monotonous tone and Ashton thought it was weird.

This guard never talked to him in a tone that held anything but pity and desperation, trying hard to win at least some kind of good reactions out of him even when the young Prince would lash out at him. Did he give up too?

Rian Dawson put the tray of food on the floor in front of the Prince. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking nervously at the door, almost as if he was afraid someone might come in at any minute, and Ashton noticed it but didn’t say a word.

“Eat!” Dawson demanded a bit too loud, but he wasn’t looking at Ashton, instead, his gaze moved nervously through the door and the tray.

Still, firm and stubborn as always, Ashton did not move or say anything, not wanting to give the guards the satisfaction of seeing him weak. But at the same time, he knew that the moment he put that piece of bread in his mouth, he might not be able to hold it after so many days without eating properly.

“Your Grace…” The guard then whispered, looking at Ash with a pleading gaze “Please…”

Ashton furrowed his brows. It was not normal for a guard or a crow to be this nervous around him anymore, and he did not trust it. After all, this was the same guard that would come every now and then to change his chains; heal the wounds just enough so that they don’t get an infection; and take him to his next torture. Why did he seem so desperate now?

“Please, I beg of you, Your Highness. Just-” He continued to whisper, but got cut short when a new set of dangling keys could be heard along the hallway “Shit”

“Dawson! What the hell are you doing?!” The Commander asked, standing right outside the Prince’s cell, and, once again, Ashton did not move a muscle to acknowledge him.

“They ordered me to get the traitor dinner, My Lord!” Rian said loudly, standing tall and ignoring Ashton altogether “But it seems like he would rather starve than be useful for once!”

His tone did not convince Ashton in the slightest since he could see through the lie. But it must’ve not been the same for the Commander who started to laugh.

“Let him starve, then!” He said “Before he dies we would have to feed him forcefully until the King says enough. Then he could rot all he wants. Come, Dawson! You are needed on the training field”

And with that, the Commander walked away, but Rian only allowed himself to breathe once the sound of the keys could not be heard over the thunder.

“Your Highness,” He said calmly as before, still keeping his eyes on the door as he started to walk out “Please, please eat. For RoseWood”

Ashton heard the cell door close again and the heavy footsteps disappear in the hallway. Then, his hazel eyes shifted to the tray that contained a piece of old bread and a cup of water. His narrowing gaze suddenly became wide open as his head snapped towards the direction of the door, waiting for any sounds besides the thunder that could indicate someone’s coming.

His heart was beating loudly inside his chest as he leaned forward, placing one hand on the dusty, musky floor, trying to see if he could support himself with his arms without making too much noise with the shackles that imprisoned him.

Slowly, Ashton started to crawl, biting on his tongue to not let out any noise as the pain of his wounded wrist shook through his whole body with every little step he made with his hands until finally, he reached the tray.

With shaky hands, the Prince of Roses opened the bread in half; eyes immediately watering as he had to prevent himself from letting out a cheerful and hopeful sob when he saw the piece of parchment hidden in the crumbs.

“Help is on the way. Let the true ruler of RoseWood be seen again - The Knights of Roses”

Y/N fell to her knees, hiding her face on a bucket as Calum held her hair place soothing movements onto her back with the palm of his hand. It was the third time today, the movement of the waves and the worry set on the pit of her stomach made everything fuzzy and revolving, making her throw up on an empty stomach.

“Love?” Calum asked, wincing as she started to cough through the tears “Y/N, it’s okay”

“It’s not okay, it’s disgusting” She cried, wiping her face with a cloth.

They were kneeling on the floor of their cabin on the Kaleidoscope, the same one they got when they were just arriving at the Crimson Islands. But what once was an exciting, frightening, and adventurous trip, has now turned mournful and dreadful as they made their way to The Vail’s coast.

Two days ago King Alex received a letter addressed to the Princess of Roses, sent by none other than King Luke Hemmings from The Vail, claiming that her brother had been captured and imprisoned by their father, who was now starting to prepare for a war to reclaim all Kingdoms to himself.

Y/N and Calum stood there in shock and tears as they read the letter over and over again, desperately wanting to make all of this just another bad dream. But the nightmare was not over, in fact, it seemed like it was just barely getting started.

King Alex gathered a small crew and together with the couple from RoseWood, wasted no time in preparing a trip to meet with the King of the Vail and his advisor, Sir Michael.

“We cannot let that madman win,” The King said “Say the word, Princess Y/N, and we’ll fight by your side. Anything you two may need, I will gladly provide. I am at your service, Your Highness”

And with that, the Princess and the Stable Lad ended up on the Kaleidoscope again with Captain Merrick; his crew; a few other soldiers; and a few volunteers. Ready to sail and get to The Vail where other rulers are gathering to decipher a plan of attack if Richard won’t back down.

But all this stress; worry; fear and sorrow was too much of a shock for Y/N and Calum even though they tried to hide it from each other. This was not a simple game of sneaking around in the woods, this was a life or death situation with Ashton’s life hanging on a thread if they don’t hurry, that is, if he’s still alive.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Calum asked once her breathing had calmed down, softly rubbing her back.

“A glass of scotch could be nice” She grumbled, getting up with Calum’s help as she sat back on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to drink?” Her husband asked carefully, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

Y/N furrowed her brows at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind the gleam in his eyes until it finally hit her.

“I’m not with child, Calum”

“How do you know?” He shrugged, placing a hand on Y/N’s stomach “You were not sick on our first trip to the Isles. And the Maester said-”

“The Maester doesn’t have a uterus,” She shook her head with a glimpse of a smile drawing in her lips “And even so, I know my body. It is not time yet, love. And, dare I say, if my father manages to win… it might never be”

Calum pressed his lips in a thin line, nodding at her words as he moved his hand from her stomach to cradle her hand once more.

“The time will come,” He smiled softly at her “Whenever you’re ready, and probably in years to come, it will be perfect. But, as of right now, my rose, I don’t think a glass of scotch is going to do you any favors”

She rolled her eyes lovingly at him, smiling as she said “How do you know? You’re not a healer”

“Nope, but I’m a guy whose friends would drink themselves to death and ended up exactly where you are right now” He chuckled, getting up from the bed and placing a soft kiss on her forehead “And I’m a husband who wants to take care of his wife, not make her sicker”

“Sometimes I hate that you’re a good husband” She pouted

“I can live with that,” He smiled, caressing her face with the back of his hand. “I’ll get you a beverage, though. I know Zach keeps some for the crew that get seasick”

“I love you,” She said through a sigh “Wish I could kiss you”

“Well…”

“Don’t even think about it, Hood. Get me the beverage and some mint leaves with lemon first”

Calum chuckled, “As you wish”

The stable lad exited the room with a faint smile that quickly disappeared when he closed the door. He hated seeing Y/N sick and he knew that the waves were just an added factor to all the turmoil she must be going through. He knows his wife; he knows she’s hiding all the pain she’s not allowing herself to feel. And he also knows that the stubbornness of his princess is strong and she would never admit it.

It’s all his fault, he thought as he walked towards the main cabin. He couldn't help but feel that he took part in sealing Ashton’s fate even though there was nothing they could’ve done at the moment. They needed to keep Y/N safe, no matter the cost. But why should Ashton pay for the crimes Calum committed by loving her? It should’ve been him the one sitting in the cell, not the only family Y/N has left; not the only family that loved her.

She’s already lost so much; her homeland, her mother, and now Ashton… She didn’t deserve any of it and Calum was more than determined to help her bring him back, no matter what it takes. They will not let Richard win.

He walked up to the deck, already making plans inside his head to let the guilt die down for a second as he concentrated on getting Y/N’s health back to normal when his pace was cut short by someone who purposely stood in front of him.

“Good morning, my Lord. Won’t you say we’re having such a splendid morning, today?”

There was something on Jack’s smile that made Calum want to punch it, something mocking yet sinister that hid something that he just couldn’t figure out.

At first, they couldn’t believe he volunteered for the trip, having just got to the Isles and finding a role in the court. He seemed too eager to go back to the Vail and help them defeat the King of RoseWood, saying it would be an honor to serve the Princess on whatever she would need. And even Y/N had to admit that was a bit off, but they needed all the help they could get.

Still, Calum did not trust him. And after he told Y/N about what happened back on the training grounds of the palace, she also started to distrust the man going by Jefferson. So his presence here brought more questions than reassurances.

“How’s the Princess doing?” Jack, also known as Sir Jefferson, asked; leaning over one of the masts with a glint in his eyes as he looked up and down Calum’s body.

Calum didn’t even try to hide his feelings towards him anymore as his hard, brown eyes stared at him with annoyance.

“My wife’s health is none of your business, Sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me”

But at the same time he took a step forward, so did Jack.

“Ouch,” He said ironically, “Thought you would be more thankful, my Lord. After all, isn’t your brother-in-law we are talking about here?”

Calum bluntly ignored him as he walked past the crow, bumping his shoulders as he did. Jack smirk, for his plan of railing up the stable lad, was working and he was also having fun with it, making it a personal challenge so for when the time comes to let all the truth come to shove, at least the fighting will be interesting. So he followed him.

“Who would’ve thought it would come to this?” He said, walking alongside Calum “A mad King, a Prince held hostage… Only, that’s all we know. Maybe things at RoseWood are more interesting”

Calum ignored him, pushing through the crowded deck to get to the Captain’s cabin. Jack’s voice became white noise as he tried to get the medicine he needed and then go back to his wife waiting for him at the other side of the ship. But then…

“Think of how this would’ve never happened if you never left. Or maybe things are finally working out for you”

Jack smirked at the way the stable lad stopped in the middle of his tracks, but quickly hid it the moment he turned around as the crow greeted him with a faux-innocent look of concern.

“Is everything alri-”

“What did you just say?”

Calum was fuming. The hair on the back of his neck rose in anger as a chill ran down his back when he heard those words. His fists were clenched to the sides, knuckles turning white from the grip as he dug his nails into his palms, reminding him to not lose his temper as they stood right at the entrance of the cabin’s hallway.

A shadow hid most of Jack’s face and Calum could swear he saw him smile for even just a second before his voice became soft as he said:

“I’m just saying that if you had stayed in RoseWood then maybe the Prince would not be in the dungeons, am I wrong for assuming that?” He said, furrowing his brows almost as if he didn’t understand why Calum could be mad about it “Royals can be tough, but you knew that before getting involved with the Princess, I assume. And then running away with her… Seemed like a poorly executed plan that started in chaos and, like most things, would probably end in chaos. Unless that’s the plan all along”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Jack gasped, placing a hand over his heart as he blinked at Calum “That language, my Lord, very aggressive”

Calum grabbed the crow by the lapels of his clothing, pushing him against the wall.

“Cmon,” Calum said with his face only inches away from Jack’s “Say what you must, if you dare”

The crow let out a small, sarcastic laugh “Oh, my lord. Was I wrong to assume how this could benefit you? Don’t you think is a little suspicious? Father gets mad, you marry the daughter and then suddenly the prince disappears… Who gets the throne once it’s all said and done? Now that’s a story worth telling, don’t you think?”

Calum’s eyes filled with rage as he banged Jack’s head against the wooden walls, knowing that people might be watching. But he could not let go of that offense as if it was nothing. How could he think that he could do that to Ash? To Y/N?!

“You don’t know shit of what happened,” He said through gritted teeth “You don’t know what we went through, what she went through. You don’t know our story so don’t pretend like you do and start assuming on other people’s lives”

“Calm down, my friend,” Jack said, trying to defuse the tension. “Maybe I’m mistaken but I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking already”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, too? What does Y/N say about it?”

“What are you talking about?!” Calum demanded in hushed tones, gripping tightly onto Jack’s lapels and making him hit his head on the wooden wall behind him again, but the crow didn’t even flinch as a glimmer set in his eyes, sending chills down Calum’s spine.

“Oh, may the gods bless your foolish heart, Calum” The crow sympathized. “I knew Y/N would be too kind to let you borrow some of her burdens, but for you to be so clueless… Must be a blessing to walk around like that”

“Like what?” Calum was getting impatient.

“Like you didn’t cause all of this”

“My Lords? Is everything alright?” Captain Merrick’s voice came from the end of the hallway as he walked up to them.

Calum let go of Jack in an instant, too shocked by his words to say anything else as he looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that hid too many fears inside of it.

Jack, on the other hand, just smiled at the Captain “Everything’s fine, Captain. We were just having a friendly conversation, isn’t that right, Cal?” He patted Calum on the shoulder and walked away without saying anything else.

“My Lord?”

“I-I’m fine, Captain,” Calum said, blinking a couple of times to clear his thoughts “My- uh, My wife is feeling a little bit seasick, I was wondering if you could help me get her something to ease her stomach”

Zach smiled “Of course, my Lord! Come, I have exactly what she needs in my cabin”

Calum nodded, “Oh, and Zach?”

“Yes?”

“If you can,” He said, looking toward where the crow just disappeared “Don’t let that man go near our cabin nor near Y/N if I’m not there to stop him”

An echo passed through her ears as she stood in the empty hallway. How she got there, she didn’t know; but it all seemed so familiar, almost like a dream. Only she didn’t know if it was a nightmare.

The clanking of the chains could be faintly heard from miles away as the hallway seemed to have no end, blending into the darkness.

Y/N took in her surroundings, looking from left to right and finding not a soul that could tell her what was going on. The humidity of the walls started to cling to her skin, making it seem like her gown was becoming heavier and heavier the more time she spent standing on the cobblestoned floor.

Then, a small, faint light came from one of the rooms hidden in the hallway. A candlelight gleam illuminated her path of darkness as she felt compelled to it, feeling the need to follow it. So she did.

The closer she got to the light the more real things started to become. Y/N was starting to feel as if this was not a dream anymore, a memory perhaps? She could feel the warmth of the light gracing her cheeks with every step she could, and, if she paid enough attention, even the sound of laughter would brush her ears.

The laughs were heavy, grave and she guessed it must come from a group of men. They were laughing at something, yet she couldn’t see what just yet nor she could hear anything besides the laugh and a faint sound of a whip, thinking that maybe they were just messing with the horse’s equipment as the drunk guards used to do back at RoseWood; Calum always hated that but they were always nice enough to pay back whatever they might’ve broken.

Could she be back at the stables? Was her mind playing with a forgotten memory?

Still, the crackling of the whip grew louder and louder as well as the laughs that couldn’t hide it anymore. But that's all it was. A whip and laughter, nothing else. So why did her heart beat faster as she approached the slightly ajar door?

From the small crack, she witnessed a group of men dressed in black, a red rose embroidered in their chests as they carried the RoseWood symbol with pride. They were drunkenly laughing at something -or rather someone - that Y/N couldn’t see just yet. She examined the men’s faces and couldn’t recognize them as his father’s guards, they weren’t the guards from the woods nor any that you’ve met before.

Yet, they seemed to be having the time of their lives as one of them grabbed the leathered whip from the other’s hand, laughing as he swung it over his head until it crashed with a surface while the others started to count.

Trying to get a better view - or at least an idea of what was happening - Y/N pushed the door open just a crack, hoping none of the men realized as the wooden door squeaked against the cobblestone, luckily they were still entertained with what was happening at the other corner.

The first thing the Princess noticed once she got a clearer view was the blood. So much blood scattered around the room in little splashes, pooling down in the middle. She felt her whole body tremble, feeling sick just looking at it, remembering the last time she saw so much red when Calum was captured.

Still, she couldn’t look away. It was almost as if her eyes were glued to the gruesome scene, following a trail until it landed on a target.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears; a scream threatened to escape her throat as she covered her mouth with both her hands to silence it. Her knees started to buckle and she felt as if she could throw up all over again, completely horrified at what was in front of her.

With a manacle on each wrist, each hanging from opposite wooden pillars and keeping his arms open wide, unable to sit or to let his body fall from the physical trauma, stood Ashton with his back completely open and bloody.

In front of him stood a small, dirty mirror where Y/N could see how he could barely keep his eyes open anymore; biting on his lip with each crack of the whip, making him lean forward and letting the manacles cut his wrist when he did so. Still, he didn’t say a word as the guards kept counting and Y/N didn’t want to know how many rounds they got before she got there.

Ashton’s hair fell in front of his face, stuck in sweat and blood to his forehead as his face changed with every hit of pain, only adding to his anger.

“C’mon, lads!” One of the guards laughed “Gotta be a lot proper with the royals now, don’t we? Start the count again, and this time do it more… gently”

The guard stood up and handed his friend another leathered whip, the only difference was that this one held spikes at the end, making sure to cut through the skin at just a simple touch.

Y/N watched in horror at how her brother’s back arched as he bit down his tongue, barely even opening his eyes to glance at the small mirror hanging in front of him, and she could swear that just for a moment, his eyes met hers before receiving another blow.

Unable to stand it any longer, Y/N barged into the room, making all of the men stop what they were doing as they stared down at her with eyes filled with fear as the man threw the whip on the floor.

Without wasting a breath, she ran to Ashton’s side and stood in front of him, trying to wipe some of the blood out of his face. But before she could say anything, she noticed how her brother’s eyes changed and were now filled with rage directed at her.

“You did this,” He said through gritted teeth, spitting blood at Y/N’s cheek.

Shocked and scared, Y/N looked around the room and found it empty.

“What?” She asked out loud, looking over at Ashton who also disappeared in thin air.

Her breathing became elaborated as she searched the room, trying to find any evidence that someone was there. Yet, when she turned around all she could find was the mirror and a different set of eyes looking straight at her.

For in that moment, her reflection wasn’t hers; it was her father, looking back with a proud smirk at the monster she thought she was.

The sudden shake of the ship made her jolt awake, taking in her surroundings with wide-open eyes as she tried to remember the dream she just had.

Her mother used to say that dreams are made of people’s greatest desires and fears; they could come from a memory or a premonition of the future and should never be taken lightly, for a dream was just as important as a thought. Dreams are the thoughts we don’t dare to say out loud.

A chill ran down her spine as her father‘s eyes were engraved in her memory; so cruel, so proud… Was she like him in a way when she ran away, leaving the ones she loved behind? Taking the easy way out, would he have done the same?

The simple thought of that made her blood run cold. She was not cruel; she was not a monster. She did what she needed to do to survive and make sure that Calum was safe. She made the only choice she could make but, would everyone understand that? Or would they just see her as her father’s daughter?

The sheets shifted slightly as Y/N’s eyes finally landed on Calum, the only comfort she had. She ran a hand delicately through his shaved curls, thanking the gods that they allowed him to sleep peacefully at least for one night and that she didn’t wake him up with her nightmare. He’s been so restless lately, she just wished to share some of his grief with him. She already put him through a lot, he deserved some peace of mind and she wants nothing more than to be able to provide that for him; let them be just themselves like they were in the woods, away from all fears and terrors and villains… just two kids playing around with fairytales and horse rides, so in love and with nothing to fear.

After a while, it became obvious that Y/N couldn’t go back to sleep so easily. With a sigh, she got off the bed, kissed Calum’s temple as he started to lightly snore, and wrapped herself with her robe as she exited the cabin; looking for a distraction in the middle of the star-filled sea.

Y/N closed her eyes when the cold night breeze graced her face, making her hair fly as she walked barefoot through the deck. All members of the crew and the volunteers were sound asleep.

She got closer to the board, looking straight ahead at the vast sea as her fingers grip the wood of the rails. They were still a few days away from getting to The Vail and once they get there, they have to start their strategies, plan the trips, know how many people to take, embark on the journey… who know how long it’ll be till they reach RoseWood again, but they were determined to do so. She knows Luke and Michael won’t let her down and they’ll do everything they can to get Ashton back and her father out of the throne; she knows she could trust them.

“Can’t sleep, Your Highness?”

Y/N jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the shadows of the quarterdeck, placing a hand over her heart as she watched Sir Jefferson emerge from the dark corner, smiling kindly at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Princess” He apologized, raising his hands in defense.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about it before talking from the shadows” Y/N sighed, looking back at the sea “We never know if the person hiding there is a friend or a foe, Sir Jefferson”

“And where would you place me, Your Highness?” He asked, taking a step closer to her “Friend or foe?”

“Am I talking to the same man that hurt my husband in training? Then, I’m not sure”

“It was a friendly match,” Jack said, leaning over the board and placing his elbows on the wooden planks as he looked at the sea as well.

“A match is still a match. You were lucky it wasn’t a duel” Y/N rolled her eyes “Either way, I don’t particularly understand the need men have for violence. For practice and self-defense, I get it. But to draw blood from innocent people… Seems barbaric”

“It’s in our system,” He shrugged. “Men search for violence even when they claim peace. We all know our nature and how far we can go, trying to push it beyond those limits until we reach the glory at the end. Even the most compassionate of men could tell you about the temptations of power and blood, maybe by doing things they know it’s wrong just to have a little taste of what it feels like”

Y/N’s mind couldn’t help to wander over to Ashton again, on how he played a part in scattering crows around the kingdoms in order to favor their father. He said he didn’t know why, but he still went ahead and did it; and even though she believed him, she also wonders if he ever at least had a slight idea of what he was doing.

“And once a man gets a taste….” Jack continued, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Y/N’s clouded eyes “It becomes part of him”

“That’s awful”

“But it’s true. We cannot escape who we are, no matter how much we try to run away from it. If it’s in our blood, then it’s fate’s design to follow it”

The crow noticed how, suddenly, Y/N’s eyes started to water as she hugged herself even tighter. And for a moment, just a slight moment as the moonlight graced her face, he felt pity for her.

“The sea is quiet tonight,” He said, changing the topic to spare the little Princess, at least for tonight.

“I don’t suppose it makes much noise anyway” She answered, quickly brushing away a stray tear that escaped her eye “It’s just water”

“Careful with your words, Princess” Jack smirked “Or they might hear”

“Who?”

“The mermaids”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows “That’s a fairytale, Sir Jefferson”

“Only to those who refused to believe in them,” He said “My mother used to tell me these stories, about pirates and adventures, but her favorites were always about the women who hide in the deep ends of the ocean. The mermaids are the protectors of the seas. Some legends say that mermaids are women who’ve been thrown out of their ships as a sacrifice to the gods; others, that the creatures were created by the gods themselves as a punishment for those who wander without the purest of hearts. They seek vengeance and justice, luring people of all around the world with their voices and deceiving them as they make them fall in love with fake promises and lust, sinking them into the sea with them. And, once they’ve realized they can’t breathe anymore, that’s when they show their true form. It’s a lesson, I suppose”

“Of what?”

“Never trust the beauty unless you can see the soul behind the eyes,” Jack said seriously, looking at Y/N “There are horrible people out there, Princess, hiding in their pretty clothes and all their riches, thinking they know it all just because they have it all. But no one is sinless, they know what they did”

The wind blew strangely, whistling through the sails as Y/N took in his words. No one is pure of sins, but could they ever repent them? She wrapped herself tighter in her robe, watching the crow’s back attentively as his eyes wandered over to the water, humming to himself an old siren’s song.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold”

His voice was deep and rough as he sunk into a memory, thinking about his mother and all that was taken from him for people like the King; they always have it all yet they don’t care about their people, going on about their lives celebrating meaningless accomplishments as their people die on the streets. If he could get some of that power; if he could make them pay… And he will, by the gods he will.

Jack became no one of many names throughout his life, fighting to be the best in everything he does so when the moment comes, everyone will scream out his name in glory and gore.

“It’s getting late, Princess,” He said after a while, turning his head toward her “You should go back to bed”

Y/N’s lips parted as she stared at him; his eyes held something deeper than just a memory, they were cold and somewhat cruel as he looked at her, but only for a second as his signature smile was back on his face in the blink of an eye, making her wonder if she’d just imagined the familiarity of that glare.

“We still have a long way to The Vail, and around this time of year their days tend to be longer, so there won’t be much resting once we get there” He smiled.

Y/N nodded “You seem to know a lot about The Vail, Sir Jefferson. Have you ever been there before?”

Jack nodded with a sigh as he pointed to the scar on his left eye “Fearless warriors, they say. I have to admit they were right”

“They are a peaceful Kingdom and have been for decades” The Princess questioned him “Their King is one of the kindest souls I know, and to my knowledge, they only use violence for training and nothing more since the wars are over. I still don’t understand how you managed to get that scar on a Kingdom with people like that”

“Well, appearances can be deceiving, Your Highness. You just never know who to trust” Jack said gravely, gracing his eyes to the floor before looking up at her again “But that might be a story for another day, you should get some sleep”

“I don’t think I can, really,” Said the Princess “But that shouldn’t keep you up, my Lord. I’ll be fine”

Truth was, Y/N was still pretty shaken from her nightmare and the words from Sir Jefferson, feeling a sense of warning running through her mind. For some reason, she didn’t feel safe and was relieved when Jack seemed to understand and nod.

“Perhaps I have something that could help you, Princess,” He said, reaching into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulling out a folded handkerchief “I always carry some with me, just in case”

Jack opened the small piece of fabric revealing a couple of dry leaves on it.

“It helps you sleep,” He said with a smile “You just have to put them in water, cold or hot, and drink it after ten minutes. Works like a charm, or at least that’s what my mother used to say and I never found any fails to that logic”

Y/N smiled kindly, taking a couple of leaves in her hands as she looked at them, furrowing her brows just slightly.

“Are you certain this would help?”

“Extremely”

She nodded, “Thank you, Bernard”

He smiled at her one last time before she turned around and hurried to her cabin once again, speeding up the pace once she was out of sight from the decks, opening up the heavy wooden door and locking it instantly as her breathing became heavy and beams of sweat started to cover her face.

With heavy hands, she went to the small desk in the room, sitting in the chair and lighting up the candle; wasting no time in grabbing a leaf and burning it.

From the moment she saw them she knew what they were, she remembers seeing them in one of the Maester’s lessons.

“This is called La Torture De Méduse, an ancient poisonous leaf that causes a complete body paralysis, starting from the legs, then the torso and the arms, and lastly, the brain and the rest of the organs. All without the victim knowing since it makes the poor soul who ingested it fall into a deep slumber as their bodies die slowly. One can literally become stone, hence the name of this vile creation of the gods. Luckily, it is easy to identify if you notice the little green dots on the petiole and midrib. Do not ever go near them and if you do…”

Destroy them.

And that’s exactly what Y/N was doing as she watched the second leaf burn into ashes. Her mind was running a thousand kilometers per hour, trying to find an excuse for Sir Jefferson who so kindly and so naively, gave the leaves to her. He said that it helped him sleep, but these could not be the same leaves he talked about. If he ever drank the beverage created with them, then he should be dead already.

Unless he knew exactly what he did by giving her the leaves, expecting to receive the news of her untimely death the next morning when Calum finds her cold next to him. But why would he do that to her? They barely know one another and she has done nothing to wrong him. Nothing made any sense...

“Rose?” Calum’s voice alerted Y/N as she pulled the leaf away from the fire, letting it fall with the remaining others onto the desk “What are you doing, my love?”

She hesitated to answer. She couldn’t lie to him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to accuse an innocent until she got further proof of his wrongdoings, afraid she’ll become like her father.

If she tells Calum about the leaves and what they do, he will kill Jack with no hesitation and he’ll be sent to trial again, only this time he might serve time for real or worse: he’d be sentenced for murder. The law does not care if it was in self-defense, as far as the court will know, Jack never intended to hurt the Princess and it might’ve been just an honest mistake. And Y/N was not ready to lose Calum again.

“I couldn’t sleep,” She tells him a half-truth, leaving what happened with Jack aside “Thought I could use some air and then I came back here”

Calum rolled to his side, watching her with sad, understanding eyes “I know how difficult this must be for you, my rose. And I wish I could take some of that pain away from your eyes and hide it somewhere where you’ll never see or feel it again in your life. But all I can offer you is the promise that I’ll be here through it all with you, my love, we’ll be home soon”

“You’re my home, Cal,” She said “You’ve always been my home”

“Then come back to bed and let me hold you,” He said softly “Let us fight these nights together and share our mornings hand in hand. You’re not alone in this, my rose”

“And neither are you”

He beckoned her with his head and she smiled softly at him, turning around to blow out the candle and hide the remaining leaves on the pocket of her stash without him noticing it, promising herself to get to the bottom of it soon.

Calum wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her close, kissing her forehead as she laid on his chest with her head tucked under his chin.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Y/N” He whispered against her hair as his fingers drew figures on her back.

“Only because I have you with me,” She answered, kissing the side of his neck “I love you, Cal. Please, never leave me”

“Not in this life or the next, my love” He replied, drifting to sleep again with her chest pressed against his “Not in this life or the next”

Still, with Calum fast asleep next to her, Y/N could not phantom getting back to her dreams as she watched the moon disappear into the sea through their small porthole, hoping that the sirens would hear her pray and lure her to sleep in the midst of a dreamless sea.

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @weasleytwinscumslut @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat t @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura @iamdayanaz

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Note

Perhaps the "stop moving!" Prompt for Jon, where he's been kidnapped by yet another avatar group and they're trying to subdue him but he's fighting too much so they break something like his leg or wrist to make him stop 👀

Hello! I’ve been thinking about this prompt for a while, and I decided to set this during the Circus kidnapping (hope you don’t mind!) and tackled it with another prompt, this one by @give-me-a-minute-to-think who asked for “ a post-circus-kidnapped fic. like, how martin and timdiscover jon was kidnaped and their reaction (espically tims.) we see in canon martin addressing that fact, but not literally anyone else. i just want some complicated relatinship and tim to be nice to jon even a little.” Hope you two enjoy!

Jon’s pretty sure bones weren’t meant to bend that way.

It was his fault, really. He shouldn’t have put up a struggle. He should’ve realized the futility of his situation and yielded to the rough, unfamiliar hands forcing him into the van. But Jon’s nothing if not stubborn, so a few flailing arms and weak kicks were to be expected. And the retaliation, of course, should’ve also been expected.

“Stop movin’,” came the gruff voice of the delivery man, with a face so nondescript Jon could forget it if he looked away for only a second. He gives one last weak slap to the hands on his body. Wrong move.

A sickening crack could be heard along with a sharp cry- Jon’s cry, because the pain currently emanating from his one good wrist is white-hot and agonizing. His eyes are blurring and the inside of the van is stifling in its darkness, but even he could see that hands and wrists weren’t supposed to look like this. He bites back the nausea and sags back into the rough hands, rendered frozen by the pain. There’s a chuckle, low and sinister, and one of the men begins to whistle the tune from the calliope.

And then his arms are yanked behind his back and the pain reaches a dizzying crescendo as his body decides it’s had enough, and sinks into oblivion.

_______

He spends his days being touched.

Cold hands and a face with a permanent smile. Sometimes there’s more of them, as if he’s a spectacle to be watched and studied. The Strangers like to learn about bodies, foreign as they are to them. Nikola enjoys narrating the process, poking and prodding at the bruises and burns and the strange, twisted hands. He doesn’t bite back his gasps and whimpers, he’s gagged, but Nikola likes to hear them. Likes to hear the wordless grumble of his voice, rendered mute and unintelligible.

The weeks go by, he loses hope. He’s not there much anymore, he’s somewhere else, a place where the pain can’t reach him. He’s back in Georgie’s apartment, the Admiral purring in his lap. He’s back in Research with a smiling Tim and a woman he imagines to be Sasha. He even thinks back to Martin’s lunches a few months ago with a sort of fondness. People talked to him, people cared. People worried when he was gone.

Every once in a while, his daydreams are interrupted by the sting of bones knitting together wrong or the itching flare of infected tissue. He starts to think of his eventual skinning as a sort of blessing in disguise; Lord knows he’s wanted to scratch himself out of it more than once. He just wishes they would hurry it up, not draw it out so much. Shouldn’t he be ready by now?

And then Michael comes. He feels a strange, manic strength return to him at the promise of a story, even if it ends in his own demise. I want to know. Tell me, tell me. The Eye’s gaze doesn’t reach him, but the power it’s planted within him grows. By the end, he feels strong enough to reach for the door handle himself, ignoring the pain that raising his arm causes.

It’s locked. His one salvation is gone. But then Michael is too, and Helen gives him a different sort of hope. One that lands him directly in Elias’s office.

His injuries are ignored in favor of a more pressing threat- Melanie. The only thing that keeps him standing and lucid is the remaining strength he siphoned from Michael’s statement. But it’s an empty, sickening vigor, one that’s sure to leave him feeling more drained than ever once it fades. Elias says nothing as he stumbles after Melanie with a limping pace, arriving some five minutes after her. She’s sitting at her desk, silently steaming when Jon makes his way in the office, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“Jon!” Martin’s bright voice pipes up. “You’re back! We were wondering…” His voice trails off as he takes in Jon’s appearance, dirty and gaunt and yet shining with a strange sheen. A thousand showers won’t erase the feeling of those cold, slimy hands on him, Jon knows. Tim’s head pops up from his desk and even he looks a bit concerned; it’s the most positive feeling he’s shown Jon in ages.

“He was kidnapped, apparently,” Melanie drawls, and Jon doesn’t take her ambivalence to heart. She feels trapped like the rest of them. And Jon’s safe now, so what does it matter? What does any of this matter?

“K-Kidnapped?” Martin sputters, making his way over to his side. Jon flinches back unconsciously, gripping tightly at the wall and Martin stops in his tracks, his face softening. “We didn’t- nobody told us-”

“It’s fine,” Jon croaks, though they all know it isn’t. “It was- it was the Circus. A-And I’ll tell you about it-” he nods in Tim’s direction, seeing his wide-eyed stare out of the corner of his eye.”-as soon as I have a rest, if that’s alright.”

Martin casts a critical eye over him, his gaze coming to rest at the stiff way in which he holds his arms. “Seriously? I think you should go to the hospital, Jon. You look-”

“I’m fine now,” Jon assures him- he’d wave away the concern if he could lift his arm at all. “Just- just a moment, please.”

He limps to his office and they let him, their eyes reminding him of those curious mannequins and the way they stared and dissected him as if he were a cadaver on display. You’re not there anymore, he tries to reason as he collapses into his office chair. There’s a statement on his desk and he wonders if it was Elias or one of his assistants who placed it there, just waiting for him to come back. He’s so hungry.

But opening the file is agony. His burned hand cries out at any touch, and his crooked one doesn’t cooperate. Still, he forces the movement and the tape recorder clicks on for him, a move that usually chills him but now feels like a small mercy.

The words spill from his lips, natural and all-consuming. It doesn’t energize him as much as Michael’s direct account, but it certainly goes down easier, untainted by the jagged edges of the Spiral. He only realizes at the end that the statement was written in French, a language he doesn’t speak. Another development. Elias would be proud. Probably is, sitting up there in his office. And in perfect and non-coincidental timing, his email pings with a message from the man himself, informing him of his new flat, the keys to which are in his bottom drawer.

A new flat. How considerate. He tries not to think of the lonely, unprotected darkness that awaits him there. No Georgie. No Admiral. That’s probably for the best, he thinks. You wouldn’t want to endanger them.

Martin knocks, startling him out of his maudlin thoughts. He’s got tea and biscuits and Jon is struck by not only how much he missed the normalcy of the act, but how horribly hungry he is. For real food. He almost feels giddy with the realization.

“Thank you, Martin.” He’s rewarded with a tired smile and more questions. More apologies. He’s been reading statements. Jon worries about this, but Martin brushes it off. Jon keeps his arms resting on his lap, out of Martin’s sight. He gives non-answers to his inquiries and he can tell Martin’s frustrated- he only wants to help, but Jon won’t let him. They end the conversation at a strange but polite stalemate, a promise that there will be time for them to talk. He’s surprised Martin lets him go like this, but perhaps he’s realized what Jon already did all those weeks ago.

He’s beyond saving.

And then he’s gone again, back to that big room with those terrible waxworks and that strange, lilting tune and the faces that were wrong, the voices that were stolen. Everything echoed, even the tiniest of whimpers. And the laughter. He wants to curl up and make himself small, hide under the desk but his limbs are stiff and immovable, glued to his seat. His breaths start to come in small, tremulous gasps when another voice speaks up from the doorway.

“The Circus?”

Tim. Jon meets his eyes, attempting to get his emotions under control. You’re not there anymore. You’re back, you’re safe.

“A month you were gone,” Tim’s stomping over to his desk and Jon pushes his chair back, trying to create space but all Tim does is collapse into the chair across from him, heaving a sigh. He hasn’t sat there in ages. “Fuckin’ Elias. Where did they have you?”

Jon slumps in his seat, the tension in his frame somewhat easing. “It was a Wax Museum. I-I think that’s where they’ll be attempting the Unknowing.”

“That’s a lead, then.”

“Yeah,” Jon let out a weak chuckle. “At least something good came out of this.”

Tim’s eyes go dark. “Don’t joke about that.”

Jon nods, slightly taken aback by the fervor of the words. “S-Sorry.”

“What did you see? What happened?” He’s leaning forward now, his interest getting the best of him. Jon opens his mouth; he plans to answer- he could describe the waxworks, the van that took him away, the layout of his prison- but that’s not what comes out.

“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t stop touching me,” he says, his voice fading to a whisper with each word. “Everyday. She came in and she smiled and she kept talking about my skin and touching me and I-I-” And once again he’s back there, cold hands on his face and mocking voices in his ear and it’s wrong, so wrong-

A hand rests on his shoulder and he rears back, an automatic response of revulsion as his heart stutters in his chest. But it’s not a smiling mannequin, it’s Tim. Tim, who’s kneeling by his chair so he doesn’t loom, whose hands are warm and real, flesh and blood. He’s staring down at Jon’s lap, where his arms lay crooked and burned and broken. Useless.

“They needed me to stop moving,” he whispers, as if it’s a valid explanation. Tim’s jaw is clenched. It’s a barely concealed rage and Jon feels guilty that it scares him so much. And yet, in spite of that anger, or perhaps because of it, he takes the hand from his shoulder, gentle and slow so Jon can see the path of his movements. He puts two fingers to the crooked arm, an impossibly soft movement as he leans in to inspect the damage.

And there’s no ulterior motive behind it. It’s just a touch, careful and concerned, probing lightly at his arm like he’s something fragile that Tim doesn’t want to break. He feels a tightness in his chest that for once doesn’t have fear as its source.

“I would’ve looked for you. If I’d have known.”

Tim says the words more to his lap than to him. And yes, he suspected that if Tim knew the Circus had him, he would’ve looked. But it wouldn’t have been for him. His presence would only be incidental. Tim’s staring at his arm as if the power of his gaze could knit it back together right and whole. His hand remains in place, and Jon wonders if it’s for Tim more than him. It’s as if he has to be reminded that Jon’s real, that he’s here.

“I need to tell you something.” The words are loaded with import. “But not now. Are you still staying with your friend?” Jon blinks at the change in subject.

“N-No. I have a new flat, but-”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Tim’s suddenly all business, rising to his feet and looking down at Jon with a face that allowed for no argument. “Not with this Circus business. You can stay at mine, after you go to A&E. You’re not okay.”

Jon stares down at his lap, all fight leaving him. “I know.”

He lets Tim take control, lets him do that aggressive sort of care-taking he was known for in the earlier days of their friendship. It’s not the same; there’s no gentle words, no teasing but stern instruction. Just a silent tending that feels familiar all the same. Tim’s the one who speaks to the doctors, who listens to their instructions and later explains to Jon what’s going to have to be done in the coming days, as if he were a child. He knows it’s going to be bad, painful. But Tim keeps his voice level and Jon is somehow reassured. When they get to his flat and Jon’s warm and medicated and settled on the couch, he asks the question and Tim answers, his voice fluid and his words made eloquent in their grief. And Jon understands.

Tim doesn’t let him sleep on the couch. He’s curled up in the bed under a mountain of blankets and he pretends not to notice Tim standing in the doorway like some sort of sentinel.

“I would’ve looked.” He repeats the words as if trying to convince himself of their veracity. “If I’d have known.”

Jon closes his eyes and tries to believe him.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135263

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #prompt fill #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #cw injuries #broken bones #angst #Anonymous

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thefreakydeaky · 4 years

Text

Call Out My Name

Chapter One Title: All I Know

Characters: Negan x Plus Size Reader, The Saviors, The Wives, Eugene

Summary: You belonged to him.Try as you might to pretend indifference, Negan’s very presence has awakened feelings in you that you believed had died with the old world.Is the ruthless King of the Sanctuary still human enough to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, Canon Gore & Violence.

Word Count: 2,930

Careful to avoid making any noise, you pressed down on the stainless steel lever.As discreetly as you could manage, you peered into the communal living space.Sherri and a few of the other wives sat together on the large sectional speaking in hushed tones. Your prison guard however, was absent. You grinned. Dropping all pretense, you stood up straight and let the door swing shut behind you.

“Good Morning.” You called out cordially.

Her eyes gave you an appraising once over. They paused at the sight of the old flannel you had on over your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Negan’s first wife asked sternly.

“Where ever the wind takes me on this fine day, Miss Sherri.”

The remnants of a southern upbringing scolded you for being rude.You knew well that all of these girls had to put up with the boss man same as you,but you couldn’t risk getting caught just to be polite.

“He’ll be angry.” You heard her call after you, but Negan was always angry. So you didn’t let that stop you.

There was no way of knowing how long you had, but you intended to explore as much of the sanctuary as possible. You had been out of the room before, sure, but you had only seen flashes of the place as you ran past.Then there was the mini-mission you went on two months ago to find out what was making Joey late. Once you figured out what day of the week Pastry day was, it was simple.Third day of every week, Joey headed straight for the bakers and stood in line for a good half hour. You left when they handed him the sweet bread and found you could beat him back to the room.That was the most you had seen of the sanctuary since your arrival and was not the best way, you were convinced, to get to know and appreciate the beauty this place might hold.

The Sunlight felt nice for the first few seconds after you stepped out of your building, but soon enough the humidity ruined the moment.

You stayed on the greenery beside the road to avoid burning your feet, following the gravel path to the market place.Careful to avoid the baker’s side of the warehouse, you walked idly passed stall after stall of goods and services.

Your eyes caught on a table of battered shoes. You recognized the pasty ex-alexandrian running the table.Eugene, he was called.You knew this from the stories Tanya told you at dinner time.He was nothing but a blubbering wuss from the sound of it, so you figured you could handle him.You strode confidently to the front of the line and smiled.

“Excuse me?” You found yourself demanding not two minutes later.You glared at Eugene until he looked away.

“You don’t have credit.”

“The hell I don’t!”

“How many more times do you need me to say it?”Eugene repeated a smirk on his lips.

He leaned back in his chair looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“How fucking dare -” You started to shout, your voice ringing out through the warehouse.

Calling attention to yourself was the last thing you wanted to be doing you reminded yourself anxiously. You scrambled to come up with a different tactic.The corners of your mouth pulled up into a practiced grin that you never thought you would have cause to use again.

“My my,” Injecting sugar into your voice, you leaned across the table until you were nearly close enough to touch him.“Look at you! You’ve been runnin’ with the big dogs long enough to do a halfway decent impression, Eugene.”

Eugene’s shifty eyes widened. “You know my name?”

“Negan only ever talks about one genius with a mullet.”You lowered the volume of your voice conspiratorially, “How fortunate you are that my darling husband hasn’t seen through you yet.” You postured, taking a risk. “Maybe, I ought to help him see you for what you really are?”

“He will never believe you.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t make any sense for me to lie about a man I have never met. All i have to do is call into question your history with the people of Alexandria and make it seem like I feel concerned for his safety.”

Metal chair legs scraped against cement as Eugene pushed his seat back and stood.

“I’m g-going out for a smoke.Them shoes better be the only thing missin’ when I get back.” His trembling lower lip killed any affect his wrathful tone might have had on you.

You snickered at his retreat.

Your white dress fanned out behind you as you hurried away brown leather contraband on your feet, eager to begin your self guided tour.

Building after building of industrial rot, a few rusty tin shacks, and a sad row of herbs and spices later, you found yourself in front of the main building itself.

The Sanctuary’s weather beaten concrete face was made of cruel sharp angles. Her broken windows were yellowing jagged teeth.She stared brutally down at you until you couldn’t bare to meet her eyes anymore and turned, walking brusquely away from her frightening visage.

You turned the next corner only to freeze in your tracks.The wet raspy growling filled your ears before the smell hit you.

Walkers

Your eyes swept from left to right a few times trying to count, to keep track and then you realized, that they weren’t coming for you. There was a chain link fence separating them from you.Your brow knitted.They were tied down.They were, for the most part, stationary.Some chained up, some tied up, some stuck through with pipes. It took a twisted mind to come up with such a gruesome thing.

You wondered if Negan had come up with the idea himself.You shook the thought away. You didn't want to know. You made for the only corner of the god forsaken place you hadn’t yet visited.

The stolen too-big boots kicked up loose bits of gravel behind you as you headed for the backlot. Little did you know that you had an audience.Eyes followed your trek down the road from the loading dock behind you.

The field was inhabitted by broken wood pallets, a rusted up old mercury with bullet holes along the side, some old crates, a busted up head board, ruined tires, and tin sheeting. They lay rotting in the grass.Nearer the chain link fence, lay the final resting place for the few men who managed to stay on good terms with Negan until their last moments. Crude wooden headstones marked with paint stuck out in a bad attempt of making a row.

You slowed down as you reached the end of the pavement and waded into the living green sea of grass hoping not to encounter any snakes.The damp blades were staining the skirt of your dress, but it’d be worth the scolding. A long jagged claw snagged at your dress.You cursed. As you pulled it loose, you realized it was a foot and a half of wood that likely came off of one of the pallets.You tossed it aside and smirked.Now that you’d gone and torn the thing, he would be extra pissed. Hell if you were going to get him good and mad you had better do it well you thought, untieing the bright orange ribbon from around your wrist. Negan's latest gift to you. Each time you saw it, it reminded you of who you belonged to. You frowned as you let it flutter to the ground. It may as well have been a dog collar.

Negan was following you, keeping far enough away not to draw attention.He cursed Fat Joey for letting you out.That idiot was going to pay.He grit his teeth as he watched you wade into the tall grass.Flannel shirt or not you were ruining your dress.Where the fuck was he supposed to find you another dress as nice as the one you had on? The sight of you tugging on your skirt brought his eyes to your wrist. He saw you take off your bracelet and let it fall. Did you have any idea how hard it was to come by anything in bright colors these days?Of fucking course not!You were a spoiled selfish ungrateful untamable thing.He was not going to be taking it easy on you this time.He spotted you staring at the barbed wire topped fence and froze.

He didn’t have to imagine you attempting to clamber over the high fence, face full of determination fueled by spite.He would never forget it.Your last attempt to leave made it clear that you didn’t give a shit about your own well-being anymore.Negan cursed under his breath. God help you if you were stupid enough to pull another stunt like that.Yet he knew way down deep inside, somewhere primal, that you belonged to him.After three years and fifteen failed attempts to leave him, Negan had come to the conclusion that he had to do everything in his power to make you want to stay.

Despite the show and the accusations he had made, alternately burning and bashing some person or another, every time you fucked up Negan went easy on you.The second he’d laid eyes on you, he’d chucked his personal rule book out the window. He was afraid that this made him look soft and that burned his pride like nothing else could.

However, women with your body type had always been his preference and He knew, a figure like yours was a rare find these days. He wanted you. Negan wanted you badly. More than anything, he wanted you to want him to fuck you.It was a frustrating blue balls inducing shit show of a situation.Charming women had always come easy to him. It was his shit luck that you weren’t easily charmed. He followed you into the field. His eye caught the shine of the ribbon easily. As He pocketed the scrap of orange cloth, the memory of your first meeting came to mind.

Your hair pulled back into a braid, a lovely face, enough cleavage showing to catch his eye. Your faded jeans had holes in the thighs and your breathing was heavy from your attempt to out run The Saviors.

You looked so darn pretty kneeling before him.You’d had the audacity to meet his gaze. It pissed him off and turned him on in equal measure.Your eyes captivated him.They were burning with resentment, but no tears.Not his Y/n. You didn’t cry, didn’t beg, and didn’t flinch at the sight of Lucille.Not even after he’d dirtied her up a bit.Near the end of his speech,some traitorous switch inside him had flipped.

“Darlin’, You have got a look in your eyes that says you haven’t been fucked right in years.” He drawled smiling his slick easy smile.”Why don’t you come on home with me, I’ll show you how good it can be with a real man.”

“You expect me to believe that a bean pole like you can handle curves like mine? Honey, I would eat you alive.”

He laughed low and long.The genuine mirth startled everyone, but you.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.I just wanna love you right.”

“Well, I am sorry, Mister Real Man, but your pick up lines are bad jokes at best and that mouth of yours...” You shook your head in disapproval. “So dirty.”

You were meant to be his. No doubt about it.

“Mmm, there are plenty of good things I can do with this dirty mouth and you are curious to find out, I can tell.”

Negan’s big strong hand had fisted into the collar of your flannel pulling you toward him. You stumbled onto your feet to keep from being dragged. Before you could catch your balance, his lips were on yours.

Unbeknownst to Negan, unlike his bat and savior show, the heated kiss he gave you impressed you.

He nipped at your lower lip and turned back to what was left of your group.

“We are gonna do just fine, Dollface. As for the rest of you sorry shits, You are going to bring me my stuff and then go out and get me something nice.”

His hazel eyes gleamed down at you. “We’ll consider it a wedding present.”

Your exclamation was drowned out by the saviors’ hearty laughter as you were forcefully led to his truck.

From the moment Negan made you a wife, you vowed that you would get away from him even if you died trying. After three years and fifteen failed escape attempts, you had come to the conclusion that making him hate you was the only way out of the wives club.

You rummaged through the crates and found quite a few empty glass bottles. They would do. You put them all in the same crate and carried it with you as you counted your steps. You waited until you were at least two yards away to throw the first one.

Thunk

Wading further into the tall weeds and grass he frowned at the unfamiliar sound.

“Well I’ll be damned.” You murmured to yourself as you bent to pick up another bottle.

You glared at the Mercury, closed your fist around the neck of the bottle, and swung. It grazed the roof, but landed on the other side of the car.

“Have you lost your freaking mind?”

Your shoulders tensed at the familiar deep baritone of your husband’s voice. You stood there clenching your teeth, frustrated with the intrusion.You schooled your features before turning to face him.

“Hey there, Sugar. What are you doin’ out here?”

Negan came to stand before you, but he didn’t ask the questions you had expected him to ask.Perhaps, Where in the hell did you get shoes? or How in the hell did you manage to escape a locked room with a savior standing watch?Instead, Negan swallowed his anger and made himself the very picture of patience.

“I could ask you the same question, Darlin’.” He replied.

You stared at him, curiosity battling the wrath within you.

“Well?” Negan prompted after a minute or two of your silence.

Your thoughts raced.

What the fuck?!Why was he being nice?!He should be letting you have it right now! He should be cussing up a storm!

“Just... keepin’ busy.”You said lamely.

“In the junkyard? Playing with glass? That’s a hell of a thing for a Queen to do.” He murmured.”You could have hurt yourself.”

You were disgusted by how genuinely concerned he sounded and cringed at him calling you “Queen”.For weeks now, you had been working on him, from picking fights, to ruining belongings, to giving him the cold shoulder.Until finally you’d been able to break out again.You wanted him good and mad and Negan was not cooperating.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Actually, I haven’t been here long.I walked the whole Sanctuary first then ended up here.”You shrugged and made to pick up another bottle.”It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Who do you think you are?”

You should have known his anger couldn’t stay contained for long.

“Beg your pardon?” You snapped.

“I said,” Negan growled pulling you toward him by your shirt collar, “Just who, in the fuck, do you think you are?” His eyes glowered down at you.

“Y/F/N Fucking Y/L/N.” You declared and kicked him.

The shock on his face turned to fury. Familiar though the expression was, Negan had never turned it on you.Adrenaline spurred you into action.You yanked out of his grasp and tore through the field.

“Y/n!” He bellowed.

You didn’t dare look behind you as you pushed yourself to run.

#Negan #negan x plus sized reader #negan x reader #the walking dead #twd x reader #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm x reader

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shittystockholmstyles · 4 years

Text

Una Sorpresa || Oscar Diaz

Summary: Steph learns some shocking information about Oscar.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Smut

Word Count: 3,292

A/N: this took a lot longer to write than I thought it would but it’s done. Hope you like it! Check out parts 1, 2, and 3 if you haven’t yet!

It had been 2 months since that night Oscar had showed up at Steph’s house, needing her help. Since that night the two of them had grown closer, gone out on a few dates, and stayed in, which is how Steph had learned Oscar was a pretty great cook. They spent many nights staying up late to talk about their interests and goals and Steph began to see a side of Oscar that she suspected he didn’t show many people. It was nights like that when Steph almost forgot that Oscar was known by most people as Spooky, the scary leader of the Santos, forgot that he had done time in prison.

Steph thought back to the night they spent at the beach. Oscar had asked her if she was scared of him. After some time she slowly answered no. He had asked her why not and she’d explained saying that even though she knew what he was capable of doing, had done in the past, and knew he had a short temper she couldn’t imagine him hurting her so there was no reason to be afraid of him. Oscar had pulled her in and pressed a kiss to her lips. Things had quickly heated up as Oscar pulled her onto his lap, his hands sliding under her swim coverup to grab her ass...

“Aye what’s got your face so red, chica?” Leti’s voice cut through Steph’s thoughts and she looked down feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Nada, chica” Steph responded “did you find the detergent? I’m ready to get out of here” the two girls had stopped by the store to pick up a few groceries.

“Si, and I picked this up for you” Leti said as she threw a pink box in the basket Steph was holding.

Steph glanced down and read the words First Response on the box. Her eyebrows drew together as she looked up Leti “a pregnancy test? Why would I need that?”

Leti laughed and started to walk away “para nada, que era una broma, a joke. But it wouldn’t hurt to keep one handy just in case. Since you are you know fucking Spooky”

“Aye callete Leti, the whole store doesn’t need to know my business” Steph said, her head spinning as she tried to remember the last time she had her period. It couldn’t have been too long ago. She shrugged, she’d check her calendar at home, and finished paying for the groceries.

The girls made it back to Steph’s house to find Maria hanging out on the porch.

“Took you guys long enough. It’s too hot to be sitting out here” she said fanning herself.

“Stop complaining and move out of the way so I can open the door” Steph replied as she pulled her keys out of her bag.

The three of them hurried into the heavily air conditioned house. Steph put away her groceries as Maria and Leti gossiped while making lunch. The girls spent most of the afternoon just talking. It had been a while since they had just hung out; she had been spending so much time with Oscar.

After her friends had left Steph decided to text Oscar and see if he wanted to come over. Hey, you busy? No response. She shrugged and went to clean up her kitchen. Steph knew by now that if he didn’t respond right away he was dealing with important shit. She grabbed a bag full of toiletries and walked to the bathroom. As she began putting the contents of the bag away she came across the pregnancy test and stood staring at it frozen. A cold fear came over her as again she was reminded that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had her period. Steph shook her head, it couldn’t be possible. But it wouldn’t hurt to be sure; she unboxed the test and sat down on the toilet.

After the difficult task of peeing on the stick Steph waited for what felt like forever for her timer to go off. The loud beeping of her alarm startled her and she reached a shaky hand toward the test. Steph took a deep calming breath, there was no way the test would be possible. Steph brought the test toward her and looked down at the double lines visible on the screen. She stared, unable to comprehend the result. She grabbed the box the test had come in and reread the instructions, there in bold print it stated that double lines meant pregnant, but that couldn’t be right. She grabbed another test stick out of the box and tried again, she waited the excruciatingly long 3 minutes for the result to show up and again it showed double lines.

“I’m pregnant?” She said out loud, her tone questioning.

Steph sat on the floor of her bathroom staring at the wall until she lost the feeling in her legs. Her head spinning trying to figure out what to do next. Taking a deep breath she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror; her eyes were slightly puffy, her nose pink, and tears stained her cheeks. She splashed cold water on her face and made up her mind, she’d go talk to Oscar, they would figure things out together. Looking at her phone, there was still no response from Oscar, she typed out a quick message I’m heading over, hope you’re home. With that she slipped on her shoes and headed out the door.

As Steph got closer to Oscar’s house she could hear rap music blaring down the street. Soon she was standing across the street, several Santos sat around the front yard drinking. Her eyes scanned their faces, looking for Oscar, he wasn’t in the front but he had to be around somewhere because his cherry red Impala was parked in the driveway. She did see one familiar face sitting on the couch, Marco.

“Hey Steph!” He said, standing to give her a hug as soon as she reached him “ain’t seen you here in a minute”

She gave him a small smile “yeah it’s been a while. Have you seen Os- Spooky around?” She asked using his nickname

Marco shrugged “uh yeah I think he’s in the back.”

“Thanks” Steph turned to head towards the back. She felt Marco start walking next to her.

“I’ll head back with you, I need a refill” he said holding an empty beer bottle up

Once in the backyard Steph looked around searching the crowd for Oscar. She found him sitting in the same spot he had been the night they first met only this time a blonde woman in a short red dress sat on his lap. Steph stopped walking, shocked at the scene in front of her. Oscar had a hand wrapped around her waist as she leaned back against his chest.

“Hey Spooky someone’s looking for you” Marco called from beside Steph.

Suddenly all eyes were on her, but all she could do was stare at Oscar as his gaze met hers from across the yard. His eyes widened in shock and the hand he had on the girl’s waist fell to his side. Steph backed away, turning to walk back the way she’d come. She felt her eyes begin to burn but she refused to cry in front of the Santos. She heard Oscar’s voice call out her name from behind her but that only caused her to pick up her pace as she crossed the street. Steph had made it down the block and was close to her house by the time Oscar caught up to her, grabbing her wrist to force her to face him.

“Let me go Oscar” she said glaring at him

“It’s not like it looked Mamas” he said loosening his grip but not letting go

“Oh? It’s not?” She laughed “I know what I saw Oscar” she yanked her hand away and continued walking towards her home.

Oscar followed behind “would you just let me explain”

“Explain? You mean come up with an excuse? A lie? Tell me I didn’t see what a thought I saw?” Steph asked, rolling her eyes “no, no soy una idiota” she was so close to her home only 2 more houses away.

“Look you weren’t even supposed to be there so just let me fucking explain”

His words caused her to stop, she turned around to face home, eyes blazing with anger “so you can cheat on me because I wasn’t invited to your party? It’s my fault this is happening?” She asked as she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him “you’re a fucking piece of shit”

Anger flashed across Oscar’s face when Steph pushed him. He grabbed her wrists pinning her to him. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as he tried to control his breathing.

“Look I’m not denying what you saw but you’re gonna fucking listen to what I have to say” he said

Steph glared at him as she struggled to free her wrists from his grasp. She could feel her eyes blurring with tears and she wouldn’t let him see her cry.

“I’ll let you go once you agree to let me talk” Oscar said, staring down at her.

Steph bit her lip, considering the offer, she’d never get out of his grasp if he didn’t want to let her go. She nodded her head, moving her gaze to the ground.

Oscar let out a sign and released her wrists “let’s go inside and talk”

Steph lead the way up to her front door and walked inside. She turned to face Oscar.

“Listen Mamas” he started

“Don’t, don’t call me that” she said breaking eye contact as she felt her vision begin to blur again.

Oscar let out a sigh and began pacing the floor, his hands clenched at his sides.

“You said you wanted to talk so talk” Steph said, “tell me all about how it’s not that serious; you fucking other girls while I sit at home waiting for you to text me back”

At that Oscar moved to stand in front of her. He brought a hand up to Steph’s face but dropped it back down to his side as she moved back a step.

“Fuck Steph, I’m not fucking anyone else. She was just sitting on my lap”

Steph rolled her eyes “the point is that she shouldn’t have been sitting on your lap in the first place pendejo, how do you think that makes me look?”

Oscar ran a hand over his face “look I only let her sit on my lap to get the guys to shut up”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t even make sense”

“Joker and Oso kept talking shit about how I don’t pay attention to any of the hynas hanging around so when Ana came passing out beers I pulled her into my lap to shut them up.”

Steph scoffed, crossing her arms “because that’s easier than just saying you have a girlfriend? Or is it that you don’t consider me your girlfriend?” Her voice cracked at the end. “God I am an idiot, this whole time I thought you were serious about me, about us. But this was never about more than sex was it?” The tears had began to fall down her cheeks and she wiped at them angrily, not wanting to cry in front of Oscar.

Oscar’s face softened and he pulled Steph against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Steph struggled at first, pushing against his chest, but she gave up realizing it was pointless; Oscar was a lot stronger than her.

“Mamas, I am serious about us” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, “ you have no idea how important you are to me”

“Because you never tell me” Steph interrupted

“You know talking about feelings isn’t my thing” he replied “but I do care about you, about us”

“Then why all the secrecy? Why not invite me to your party? You were the one that said I was always welcome at your place Oscar” Steph tilted her head back to look at his face, he was already staring at her and his jaw clenched slightly at her questions.

“I know what I said but that was before, before I got to know you and started feeling the way I do about you and I don’t want you around all the gang shit that goes down around my place”

“I’ve grown up in Freeridge, I’ve lived around gang shit all my life. It’s nothing new to me Oscar” Steph said

Oscar’s lips tightened into a thin line “I know that Mamas but I don’t want that to be your life anymore and I like having you just to myself”

“You mean you like keeping this a secret, I won’t be kept a secret Oscar, that’s bullshit and you know it” Steph said “if you don’t want people to know about us then there won’t be an us for people to find out about”

Oscar’s body tensed at her words “don’t say that baby. I need you in my life.”

Steph looked at Oscar and noticed tears welling in his eyes. The thought of him crying tugged at her heart. She brought her arms up, linking her hands behind his neck, “then make it official. Let people know I’m yours, that I’m your ruca, Oscar”

Oscar nodded his head and brought his face down to hers “okay” he whispered against her lips before kissing her, tightening his arms around her. He stepped backwards until his legs hit the couch and sat down, pulling Steph onto his lap.

Steph let out a small squeal as she was pulled down but didn’t break their kiss. Oscar’s hand came up to caress the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. She gasped as his other hand came down to unbutton her shorts, his fingers making contact with her exposed stomach.

She began to move her hips grinding against Oscar. He let out a groan against her lips then moved his mouth kissing gently along her jawline and down her neck. Suddenly he turned, moving to lay Steph down on the couch. He gripped the the edge of her top and pulled it over her head then did the same to his shirt. His lips continued to trail kisses from her neck down to her breast, still partially covered by her bra. He gently sucked on the exposed skin as his hand reached under her to undo the clasp of her bra. Steph slid the straps down her arm and watched as Oscar threw her bra on the floor with their shirts.

Oscar leaned down, pressing their bare chests together as his lips met Steph’s. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and her lips parted in response allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue. Oscar’s hand moved down to grab her thigh as she moved to hook it around his waist, drawing him in closer.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me baby” Oscar said breaking the kiss and moving down to take her right nipple into his mouth. She gasped at the contact and he smirked bringing his hand up to play with her left nipple. Steph arched her back, pressing into his touch and began to rock her hips against him. She could feel Oscar’s growing excitement against her thigh.

Oscar kissed his way down her stomach until he got to the waistband of her shorts. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled her shorts down her legs, bringing her underwear down with them. She laid there completely naked feeling a blush creep over her skin under his heated gaze. Oscar bit his bottom lip as he stared down at her, letting his fingertips lazily run up her thighs. He gently pushed her thighs apart exposing her wetness. His fingers teased her inner thighs, bringing them close to her center and then back down.

“Oscar please” Steph moaned, her eyes meeting his. Her cheeks were flushed and her body shivered under his touch. Oscar leaned back down, placing a kiss on on each hip before moving down farther and kissing her inner thigh. He left a trail off kisses on one thigh then moved to repeat his actions on her other thigh before moving to her pussy.

Oscar brought his hand up and ran a finger against her folds “you’re already so wet Mami and I’ve barely touched you” his eyes darkened, “tell me how much you want to feel me touch you”

Steph moaned at his words “Please Oscar touch me” her words coming out in soft moans “I need you papi”

With that Oscar brought his face down and placed a kiss on her clit. He began to flick his tongue across her clit in slow motions. Steph let out a gasp as she felt him push a finger inside her, slowly pumping in and out as his tongue continued moving in slow circles. Oscar’s pace quickened as he heard her breathing hitch, moving his tongue and finger in sync. Steph felt her stomach tighten with pressure and rocked her hips against Oscar’s face, her thighs tightening around his head. He continued his movements until he heard Steph screaming a stream of curse words.

He quickly stood removing his shorts and was back between her legs, his cock pressed against her entrance. “You’re mine Mamas. All mine” he said as he pressed into her.

“Fuck papi” Steph moaned as he entered her, moving in long slow strokes. Digging her nails into his back she smiled and kissed him. “All yours” she whispered against his lips. Oscar groaned and picked up his pace. Steph hooked her legs around his waist drawing him in closer to her as he rocked back and forth. “Fuck right there papi, just like that” she said between moans.

Steph felt her stomach tighten again as she grew closer to her second orgasm and rocked her hips up to meet Oscar’s. Her nails dug deeper into his back as her release came. Her legs shook and she tightened around him as he continued his strokes until the feel of her around him was too much for him to hold on. He let go, his climax coming over him as he came inside her.

Breathing hard, Oscar pushed himself up looking down at Steph. He leaned down and kissed her “mine”

“I was serious, you need to let me come around and people need to know you have a girlfriend” Steph said. They had moved to her room and laid together, Steph’s head on Oscar’s chest, their bare legs tangled together.

Oscar’s hand stilled where it had been rubbing circles on her hip. “I know Mamas. I told you I would and I meant that”

“And no more secret parties, from now on I want to be the one sitting on your lap” she lifted her head to look at him.

Oscar smiled “whatever you want”

Steph laid her head back on his chest and the two of them were silent for a while.

“Oscar?” Steph said feeling nervous

“Hmm” he responded quietly

“There’s something else we should talk about”

“Hmm”

Steph was quiet trying to think of how to say the words she knew she had to say. Taking a deep breath she blurted out “I’m pregnant”

She waited for a response, a shocked gasp, Oscar sitting up, but nothing came. She looked up at his face to find his eyes closed, a calm expression on his face. He’d fallen asleep. Steph sighed, laying her head back down “I guess I’ll try again tomorrow”

#spooky diaz smut #oscar spooky diaz #spooky diaz #spooky diaz imagine #omb #on my block #smut #fan writing #fanfic #imagines #on my block imagine #omb imagine

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wonderful-writer · 4 years

Text

16 - Back Home and Gone Again

Summary: Y/n and Clarke make it back to Alpha station, but not without consequence. Upon returning, they leave once more, but with Bellamy and Octavia on a rescue mission to find Finn.

Word count: 4.46k

Based off: 02x04, “Many Happy returns” & 02x05, “Human Trials”

“Anya, we’ve been walking for hours. Where are we going?” Clarke asked.

“Quiet!” The grounder shushed.

Clarke was right, you had been tugged along by your bound wrists for hours throughout the forest. Your feet had begun to hurt a long time ago, but your wrists were worse from the constant tugging.

“Why not just kill us and get it over with?” You rolled your eyes.

“You can tell the commander what the mountain men are doing to us in there.” She responded. Clarke tugged on the rope and Anya turned around as you slowed to a stop.

“So let’s work together. We don’t have to be enemies.” You suggested.

“And unite with someone as weak as the two of you?” She spat. “I have what I need.”

She turned to continue walking, but Clarke yanked the rope back and turned Anya to face you again.

“We all want the same thing.”

You noticed a green ray of light at the same time that Anya did. She yanked you both down by the shoulders just in time for a tranquilizer dart to fly past Clarke’s head and hit the tree in front of her.

“They found us.” Multiple darts were shot as green lights were seen from everywhere and you could hear the shouting of the guards as they moved closer to you.

“Run.”

Anya pulled you and Clarke along as she ran, but Clarke managed to pull the first dart out of the tree and hide it in her hands as you went. Your calves and feet burned from the exercise, but once you no longer heard any voices or saw the green dots from their guns, you slowed down.

As you walked down a hill, Clarke stepped on a twig, causing it to snap loudly.

“Quiet. You can’t even walk in the woods.”

“If we’re such a burden, then cut us loose.” Clarke suggested.

“Heavy footfalls, broken branches; you even smell like them.” Anya complained as you climbed up a small incline, crouching in the shrubbery to keep watch of the mountain men without being in their view.

They turned their backs and you went down another small hill, stopping at a small pond.

“Down.” Anya commanded and you knelt with Clarke. She cupped the water in her hands and Anya stopped her.

“No. Not to drink.”

“Then why stop?” Clarke asked. “We should be running.”

Anya scooped some mud from the bottom and slapped it onto Clarke’s cheek. “You reek. Cover yourselves in it.”

You did as told, rubbing the mud all over your jacket and pants, also getting some on your face, neck, and hair. Once you were basically completely covered in mud, Anya stood up with you and kept walking, most of it being uphill treks to see where you were and to check for the mountain men.

You stopped at a ridge and hid in the greenery, watching the men in hazmat suits search for you.

“How are they still following us?” Clarke asked exasperatedly.

“Because of you,” Anya glared. “Time to end this.”

She picked up a large rock and was about to hit you both over the head with it, when you stopped her.

“Anya, we’re stepping where you step, we’re covered in mud. We aren’t leaving a trail.”

“They’re following something.” She put the rock down.

“They’re not following us,” Clarke realized. “They’re tracking us. Search yourselves. If I’m right, it should feel like a small bump under your skin.”

Anya dropped the rock and did as Clarke did, you also feeling your arms, chest, torso, and legs for anything like a bump. Anya ripped her sleeve to reveal, just as Clarke said, a bump on her arm.

“It’s you.” Clarke said. “Okay, I can remove it, but you need to untie my hands. I just need something sharp and sterile.”

Instead, Anya put her arm to her mouth and bit her skin until she got the tracker out, spitting it out onto the ground. “I will not go back there.”

You kept walking, although now with less hurry and intensity, for what felt like another hour or two. You were now by a creek, the sound of rushing water calming you in a sense, despite not knowing what was going to happen next.

“Anya, you’re still bleeding.” Clarke pulled on the rope so Anya would face her. “At least let me bandage it before it gets infected.”

The moment Anya looked down at her wound, Clarke shoved the tranquilizer into Anya’s neck, knocking her unconscious.

“We can find our way home from here,” You breathed, releasing yourself from the ties around your wrists and handing them to Clarke.

She tied up Anya the way you were, pulling her limp body from the ground and walking along with you. “Looks like you’re our prisoner now.”

Clarke had used her restraints to tie Anya up along with the rope she had around her wrists, handing you the extra rope and gathering the materials to make a stretcher to carry Anya with, seeing as she wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

You helped drag Anya back to the dropship using the makeshift stretcher. Everything was different as you looked around. The ground was all burnt up, along with the wall you and the others worked so hard to build.

You put Anya down as Clarke noticed something on the dropship wall, faintly making out her own name, everything else below it smudged and washed away by the rain. You both stared at it in awe, hearing Anya’s footsteps on the ground as she stumbled towards you, no longer in her restraints.

“Anya, wait.” Clarke put her hands up in surrender, but Anya’s arm swung at you and her, ducking to dodged the large blow. She swung again but Clarke hit her in the side, Anya’s large and wide strikes making her more vulnerable.

You went up and tried to stop her, but all she did was knock you down with a punch to the face. Clarke went to attack but Anya was faster, punching her so hard she landed about 10 feet away from where she was.

Clarke grabbed a large log and swung at Anya multiple times with it, missing every time. Anya pulled Clarke closer with the log and kicked her in the stomach, swiftly punching her seconds later. She landed on the ground, close to you, and you grabbed some white powder, you couldn’t tell what it was, sitting up and throwing it in Anya’s face to distract her, giving Clarke time to pick up the dagger near her and standing up to face the woman.

“I don’t want to kill you, Anya.”

“The you’re the one that’s gonna die.” Anya said before Clarke thrust forward with the knife, narrowly missing as Anya moved her shoulder to avoid the knife.

Anya grabbed Clarke’s arm and punched her, while you helped her back up and ran towards the aggressive female. You tackled her, but she punched you off, tossing you to the side like nothing, hitting the ground and losing all air from your lungs.

She advanced on Clarke again, grabbing her wrist and smashing her elbow down on her arm to take the knife from her grip. She slashed downwards and cut Clarke’s arm, then her side, grabbing her shoulder and headbutting the blonde, sending her to the ground. You stayed where you were, gaining back as much strength as you could, while Clarke and Anya fought.

Clarke stood back up and Anya ran for her, talking her to the ground once again and straddling the blonde. As she held up the knife to stab Clarke in the heart, the blonde stuck her finger in the open wound where Anya’s tracker was, causing her to weaken her grip on the dagger and for Clarke to knock it out of her hand.

By that time, you’d found a large rock and came running in, hitting Anya with the rock and allowing Clarke to straddle her, landing punch after punch to her face. She stopped for a moment, picking up the knife as you stood by, panting and completely unsure of what to do. You watched her make the movement to kill Anya, but you looked into the sky and saw something you never thought you’d see.

“Clarke,” You muttered, tapping the girl on the shoulder. She looked up and gasped, sticking the knife in the ground and allowing you to help her stand.

“You fought well,” Anya complimented, blood in her mouth.

“Do you see that?” Clarke asked Anya. “I knew it. He lied. Our people are out there.”

You shook as she said the sentence, turning to look at each other. Out of pure instinct, you grabbed Clarke by the shoulder and pulled her to you for a hug. Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around you, laughing in relief that the Ark came down safely and with survivors.

“You get to see your mom, Clarke,” You whispered. You let go of the woman and Anya got up, but made no moves to attack.

You both followed Clarke’s lead as you moved in the direction that you saw the beacon, quietly walking through the forest with Anya’s hands tied back up.

By nightfall you had become extremely tired, but waves of instant relief washed over you once you saw the lights and the ring of the Alpha station.

“Look at that.” Clarke sighed.

“How many are there?” Anya asked.

“I don’t know,” You responded, breathing heavily. “A lot, I hope.”

Clarke removed Anya’s restraints. “I’m letting you go. I’m not weak, but I’m not like you. Our only chance against Mount Weather is if we fight together. To beat them, we’ll need our technology and your knowledge of this world. I know my people will help. The question is, will yours?”

“The commander was my second,” Anya told you. “I can get an audience.”

You held out your arm to shake and Anya grabbed it. “Please hurry.”

Anya started walking away, holding her arm, when a gunshot rang out and Anya fell to the ground. Clarke called her name and ran towards her, a bullet grazing her shoulder. You fell on the other side of the grounder as Clarke rolled her over.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.” Clarke repeated as she put pressure on the bullet wound with you.

“My fight is over.” Anya whispered, closing her eyes.

“You’re okay, Anya. You’re going to be okay.” Clarke whispered, keeping pressure on the wound.

You saw guards coming with their flashlights, the last thing you saw was one of them knocking out Clarke with the butt of their gun, while another came over and did the same to you, darkness taking over as fast as someone flipping a lightswitch.

You were barely conscious as they dragged you limply through the camp. You could see everyone around you cowering away, assuming you were a grounder.

“Wait.” Abby called, moving towards you and her daughter.

“Once the prisoner is secured.” Byrne stopped the woman.

“They’re not prisoners. One of them is my daughter, the other is her friend.”

They brought you into medical, Clarke needing more immediate attention than you. Jackson hooked you up to the IV drip and addressed the cut on your head from the gun making impact, patching you up easily.

“Are they okay?” Byrne asked as she walked into the room.

“They will be,” Abby responded.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Byrne apologized. “We had no idea who they were.”

Major Byrne moved closer to you and asked where you had been.

“Byrne,” Abby scolded.

“Mount Weather,” You slurred.

“The grounders took you to Mount Weather?” Byrne asked lightly.

“No. The mountain men.” You sat up, with help from Jackson, Clarke copying your actions.

“We have to get them out,” She croaked.

Abby looked over to Major Byrne. “We’re not doing this right now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Major Byrne turned around and left the med bay, Abby nodding to Jackson to go get more supplies.

“Mrs. Griffin,” You said. “Did anyone else make it here?”

“Yes,” She responded, keeping her hands on Clarke’s arms. “6 of you did.”

You felt relief flow through you at the mention of survivors; and the thought that Bellamy was most likely among them.

“Finn and Bellamy?” Clarke asked. Abby nodded in response.

You felt happy tears come to your eyes as you reached out for Clarke’s hand to squeeze. You had no idea what you would’ve done if Bellamy wasn’t here, or alive.

“We thought they were dead,” Clarke breathed. “I thought you were dead,” She told her mom, tears falling from her eyes. You let go of her hand and let the pair have their moment.

You let the relief sink in as they shared a hug and some tears. You couldn’t even put into words how happy you were that Bellamy was alive. You almost felt weightless as the heavy boulder of what could have been was removed from your chest, and you didn’t have to worry about if the thoughts your mind conjured up were real or just your imagination.

Once Clarke was bandaged, Abby checked you out and made sure any and all cuts were cleaned and patched up.

“My father,” You whispered, catching the woman’s attention. “Marcus, where is he?”

“He’s on a diplomatic mission, trying to get peace with the grounders,” Abby told you.

You nodded and looked away from her. You knew you had to do right by your mother and take her advice; talk to him, at least, ask him why he wasn’t there for you. Figure everything out. Because after everything that’s happened, you needed him. So many bad things could happen in an instant, and you don’t want anything to happen to you or him without talking about it. He was your father, that wasn’t just a title. It meant something now.

Of course, you wouldn’t forgive him right away, but you could at least try to build a relationship. You owed it to your mother to do that. You reached up to twist your necklace, remembering it wasn’t there when you only felt your skin. Abby and Jackson brought in cloths and water to clean the dirt and grime off of yours and Clarke’s skin, everything coming off easily.

The next morning, you woke up to Clarke and Abby talking.

“What’s going on?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“We need to move against Mount Weather,” Said Clarke. Upon hearing the words you fully woke up, beginning to sit up in the bed, your muscles sore from all of the running you’d done the day before.

“How many guards are here?” The blonde asked.

“Where are Finn and Bellamy?” You looked around, swinging your feet off of the bed.

“Girls, please. You need to rest.”

“We don’t need to rest. We’re fine. You’re fine, right Y/n?” Clarke asked you.

“I’m more than fine. I’m ready to move against Mount Weather whenever you are.” You responded, getting off of the bed when she did.

You were in better shape and less sore than Clarke was, as she took most of the fight with Anya. You slipped on the green jacket that lay next to your bed, watching as Major Byrne stepped into the med bay.

“Ma’am,” She addressed the Chancellor. “Movement in the north woods.”

“Grounders?” The Chancellor asked.

“I don’t think so.”

You followed Abby and Clarke outside, seeing Raven on the bench next to the tent. Clarke greeted her first, giving her a hug. When she turned to you, she smiled awkwardly and began to apologize.

“Listen, about the whole Bellamy thing, I-” You put up a hand, politely stopping her.

“Don’t worry, I understand. You were upset, he was there. No hard feelings.” You told her, a genuine tone in your voice.

“Really?”

“Really.”

You pulled her into a hug, noticing the brace, but deciding not to say anything about it. You pulled apart when they opened the gate, relief bubbling in your chest when you sawa Bellamy come into camp.

“Bellamy,” You breathed, looking at the girls. They nodded their heads and smiled at you as a signal that you were okay to go.

You smiled and walked away, picking up a bit of speed as he came back into view. Once you had a straight shot, you ran to him, your body slamming into his own as you wrapped your arms around his neck. There was almost no hesitation when he hugged you back, picking you up and spinning you around once.

“I missed you,” You whispered, closing your eyes. It was still indescribable how relieved and happy you felt, seeing him again.

“I missed you, too.” He put you back down and you moved to hug Octavia, just as tightly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/n.” She told you. You laughed and returned the greeting.

Once you let go, Bellamy reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out. “I found this while I was out there,”

He handed you something cold and metal. You opened your palm to see your necklace, and you could have cried right then.

“Where was it? H-how did you find it?”

“It was with a grounder. We went to their prison camp to see if you and the others were there, and one of them had this on him. I managed to get it back.”

You nodded and clipped it around your neck, opening the pendant to see the familiar face of your mother and father smiling at you. Raven and Clarke walked up to you, laughing quietly about something.

“How many are with you?” Bellamy asked.

“None,” Clarke sighed. “Where’s Finn?”

“Looking for you,” Bellamy said.

You waited out in the hallway with Bellamy and Clarke as her mother talked with other council members and Sinclair about what to do and how to move forward with the information. You leaned on the wall near Bellamy as Clarke stood in front of the door.

You moved off of the wall and rubbed your back, wincing. Your stitches were irritated and the bandage likely needed to be changed.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked, stopping his pacing.

“Yeah, m’fine. My stitches are just a little irritated.”

“Your what?” Bellamy asked in surprise.

“My stitches- did you not know?” You asked.

“Know what?”

“I got stabbed the night everyone got split up. Apparently I almost died. Did you not hear about this?”

“No!” Bellamy sighed, exasperated.

“Oh, that’s right. You weren’t with me when it happened.”

“Jesus,” He muttered. “When are you not hurt or injured?”

“Uhm,” You feigned thinking hard. “Saturdays between 12 and 5pm.” You smiled, answering honestly.

Bellamy shook his head, but you could still see a smile creeping its way onto his face.

You stopped talking and looked at Abby as she walked through the door to explain the decisions that were made and what was going to happen.

“What? No. You can’t just cut them loose.” Clarke refused.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have the manpower to send out two separate rescue missions and protect our camp.” Abby told her daughter.

“Mom. They’re in trouble. They’re either gonna get themselves killed, or they're gonna make things worse with the grounders, who we need to get our people out of Mount Weather.”

“I know you feel this is unfair.” Abby said. “But our priority has to be with Chancellor Kane if there is any hope for peace.”

“If you wanted peace, you shouldn’t have killed the only grounder who was gonna help us.” Clarke rebutted.

“I’m sorry. The decision has been made.” Abby apologized, keeping the stern look on her face.

“You’re sorry?” Bellamy cut in angrily. “Finn and Murphy are out there looking for your daughter with guns you gave us, and now that she’s home, you’re just gonna abandon them?”

“If you can’t spare the guards, we know the terrain. We have a map. We can do it ourselves.” You suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Abby disagreed.

“Mom,” Clarke begged.

“I just got you back.” The woman snapped.

Jackson ran down the corridor and told Abby she was needed in medical after apologizing for the interruption.

“Byrne?” Abby called to the guard. “No one leaves this camp.”

“We’re gonna need guns,” Clarke told Bellamy as she stopped beside him.

You and Raven carried a large duffel of guns and extra clips to the meeting spot, which was behind a large structure. “Managed to score you guys a couple of extra clips.”

“My mom’s in surgery and the team that’s going after Kane just left. We should too.” Clarke said as she ran up to you.

“Did you find Octavia?” Bellamy asked.

“No. I found you.” The girl said as she ran up to the group. “I’m not letting you leave here without me.”

“Octavia-” Clarke started.

“Finn and Murphy are headed for Lincoln’s village.” She cut the blonde off. “I’ve been there. Have you? Has she?”

“You done?” Bellamy asked his little sister.

Bellamy took a bag from Clarke and handed it to Octavia, telling her it was her pack. She moved to the fence as you slipped a rifle over your shoulder, but Raven stopped her.

“Woah. Not so fast, Pocahontas.” She put her cane to the fence wire, electricity sparking as she did.

“I thought you said it was handled,” Clarke whispered.

“It is,” Raven reached down and grabbed her radio, speaking into it. “Shut her down, Wick.”

The radio beeped twice and Raven touched the wire to see if it was safe, no sparks or crackling coming from the fence. Octavia tossed her pack out through the hole and climbed through, you following. Clarke was the last one through, carrying a pack as well.

You fell in line with Clarke, walking behind Bellamy and Octavia, who was currently leading the way to Lincoln’s village.

“Do you have the bandages I asked for?”

“Yeah, they’re in my pack. We’ll change your dressing when we set up for the night.” Clarke told you. You nodded and kept looking ahead, on alert for any threats.

Just before nightfall you decided to set up for the night, building a fire and putting logs around it to sit on.

Octavia fell asleep first, then Clarke. She’d changed your dressing and made sure it was clean before she laid down. You were supposed to be sleeping, too, but something felt off. It wasn’t anything to do with you, no, but something else. Like something was going to happen, you just didn’t know what.

When you turned to face the fire instead of away from it, you came face to face with Bellamy, who turned away when you looked him in the eyes.

“The last time I saw you,” He started, facing you again. “You and I just got through the entrance. I went for Tristan, and you were cornered by grounders. You looked like you had it handled, what happened?”

“I thought I did, too,” You whispered. “I got the third one, and the last one stabbed me before he ran to the dropship. I dragged myself outta there and passed out at the main entrance.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?” You asked.

“It’s okay. I’ll sleep when we find Finn.” He paused. “You haven’t seen him. Losing Clarke, the others, the war. It changed him. He executed the grounder that drew us the map.”

“Pulled the trigger without even blinking and walking away.”

You were speechless. The Finn that you knew would never have hurt a grounder. It didn’t make any sense, not at all. He wanted peace with them, not to murder them.

“That doesn’t sound like Finn.” Clarke spoke up, starling you. You saw her sitting up now, fully awake.

“No. It doesn’t.” Bellamy agreed.

“I saw what he was capable of. And still, I let him go with Murphy and 2 automatic rifles.”

“I’m sure that had to be done.” said Clarke.

“When we got back to the dropship and no one was there, we assumed it was the grounders.”

“Of course you did,” You said. “There was no way you could’ve known it was the mountain men. No one could have.”

“How long until chocolate cake turns into being hung upside down and drained for their blood?” Bellamy asked, a scowl forming on his face.

“I don’t know,” Clarke answered honestly. “But we don’t have much time.”

“Okay,” Bellamy started. “First we find Finn, then our people in Mount Weather.”

The three of you nodded, liking the sound of the vague plan.

“And Lincoln,” Octavia chipped in from her spot on the ground.

“And Lincoln,” You repeated.

The brunette took a deep breath in as she sat up. “I think we’ve slept long enough.”

She gathered her things, as did the rest of you, heading out after you and Clarke kicked enough dirt into the fire to put it out.

You walked between Clarke and Bellamy, eyes sharp. Your feet were beginning to hurt but you pushed the thoughts away, focusing on keeping your eye out for dangers. You approached a large statue, one you’d seen in class.

“This is it,” Bellamy said, tucking the hand-drawn map away. “Which way to Lincoln’s village?”

You heard Octavia sniffle, and Bellamy called her by her nickname.

“The reapers came from there,” She pointed with her sword, tears forming in her eyes as she faced Bellamy.

“I couldn’t save him, Bell,” She cried, letting her brother pull her into his arms for a comforting hug. “I couldn’t save him.”

After Octavia managed to stop her tears, you went in the direction she pointed, hurriedly picking up your pace and breaking into a run when you heard multiple gunshots coming from the direction you were headed in.

You broke into a sprint once you heard even more gunshots, this time like rapid-fire, accompanied with screaming. You broke through the treeline with your gun raised, stopping beside Bellamy as you took in the sight before you.

Dead or severely injured grounders littered the floor, Finn and Murphy standing in the middle of it, but only Finn had his gun raised, now staring at Clarke. There were people crying over bodies and some were in a cage-like pen in front of Finn.

You walked through the disaster with the others, looking at the freshly dead around you, taking on the image with full force as you approached the pair of men.

“I found you,” Finn said to Clarke, who stepped back in horror as Finn walked up to her.

The shock and disbelief of the situation was shown on Clarke’s face, seeing what Finn was capable of. Your hope for peace had diminished into nothing as you saw the aftermath of the massacre that took place, and your only hope was gone.

#bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake series #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake #this is war series

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thelittlesttimelord · 5 years

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The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 34/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - So I made a miscalculation and the first part of this chapter should have been added to the end of the previous one. Therefore, I added the beginning of Big Bang to the end of the this chapter.]

The Doctor grabbed the communicator and called River. “The TARDIS, where is it? Hurry up. What are you even doing there?”

Elise grabbed the Doctor’s hand to offer him comfort. He squeezed her hand back.

“Something's using her memories. Amy's memories. You said something had been there. If they've been to her house, they could have used her psychic residue. Structures can hold memories, that's why houses have ghosts. They could've taken a snapshot of Amy's memories. But why?” The Doctor kept glancing back at the Romans.

“Projections, or duplicates. They might think they're real. The perfect disguise. They actually believe their own cover story, right until they're activated.” The Doctor started pacing. “Why? Who'd do that? What for? It doesn't make sense. River? River? River, what's happening?”

Elise suddenly wished she’d gone with River instead of staying with the Doctor.

“You're flying it wrong. Where are you? What's the date reading? You need to get out of there now. Any other time zone. Just go. Well, then shut down the TARDIS. Shut down everything! But how? Why?”

A high pitched noise filled the air.

Elise watched as the Romans in the chamber with them doubled over for a second before raising back up.

“Listen to me, just land her anywhere. Emergency landing, now. There are cracks in time. I've seen them everywhere, and they're getting wider. The TARDIS exploding is what causes them, but we can stop the cracks ever happening if you just land her,” the Doctor told River.

The Pandorica started to open and a white light filled the chamber.

“Well, now. Ready to come out, are we?” the Doctor asked. He put the communicator back to his ear. “Okay, just walk out of the doors. If there's no one inside, the TARDIS engines shut down automatically. Just get out of there. Run!” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica as the Romans came closer to them.

Their hands were now guns.

Elise tugged on the Doctor’s jacket.

“Doctor! Doctor, I can't open the doors!” River yelled over the communicator.

The Doctor finally turned and saw the Romans. “Amy!” he yelled.

The Romans grabbed both Elise and the Doctor and walked them towards the Pandorica.

“Plastic Romans. Duplicates, driven by the Nestene Consciousness, eh? Deep cover, but what for? What are you doing? What's in there, eh? What's coming out?” the Doctor asked.

“The Pandorica is ready,” one of the Romans said.

“What, do you mean it's open?”

“You have been scanned, assessed, understood, Doctor,” a Dalek voice said.

“Scanned? Scanned by what, a box?” the Doctor asked.

“Your limits and capacities have been extrapolated.”

Cybermen and a couple of other alien species that Elise didn’t recognize appeared in the chamber.

“The Pandorica is ready!” The alien that spoke was short and brown.

Elise had never seen so many different species before, but she wasn’t scared. The only real thing that scared her were Daleks.

“Ready for what?” the Doctor asked.

“Ready for you,” the white Dalek said.

Two Romans dragged the Doctor to the Pandorica as Elise screamed. The Romans locked the Doctor into the seat.

“What do we do with this one?” the brown alien asked, pointing his gun at Elise.

“Scan reveals the child is Timelord”, the white Dalek said.

Elise struggled against the Romans.

“The child will be confined with the Doctor”.

Elise was picked up and carried to the Pandorica where they shackled her wrists and ankles together at the Doctor’s feet.

“You lot, working together. An alliance. How is that possible?” the Doctor asked.

“The cracks in the skin of the universe,” the White Dalek said.

“All reality is threatened,” the brown alien added.

“All universes will be deleted.”

“What? And you've come to me for help?” the Doctor asked.

“No. We will save the universe from you and your offspring!” the brown alien said.

“From me?”

“All projections correlate. All evidence concurs. The Doctor will destroy the universe,” the Cyberman said.

“No, no, no. You've got it wrong.”

“The Pandorica was constructed to ensure the safety of the Alliance.”

“A scenario was devised from the memories of your companion,” the White Dalek told him.

“A trap the Doctor could not resist,” the brown alien said.

“The cracks in time are the work of the Doctor. It is confirmed.”

“No. no, no, not me, the TARDIS. And I'm not in the TARDIS, am I?” the Doctor asked.

“Only the Doctor can pilot the TARDIS.”

“Please, listen to me!”

“You will be prevented.”

“Total event collapse! Every sun will supernova at every moment in history. The whole universe will never have existed. Please, listen to me!”

“Seal the Pandorica,” the Cyberman said.

“No! Please, listen to me! The TARDIS is exploding right now and I'm the only one who can stop it! Listen to me!”

The Pandorica doors closed. Inside the Pandorica, it was deadly silent.

The Doctor slammed his head into the headrest behind him in frustration.

If they were going to be stuck in here till the end of time, Elise would have to do something she’d been terrified of doing. “Daddy?”

The Doctor froze, hearing Elise’s voice. He’d never heard her voice before. Well he had, but that was a long time ago. But this version of her had never spoken on purpose before. “Yes, love?” he said.

“I’m scared”.

“I don’t know how, but I will get us out of here.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

Elise nodded and said, “Yes”.

But only a few minutes later, the doors to the Pandorica opened and Rory stood there holding the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor was released from the chair. “How did you do that?”

“You gave me this,” Rory told him.

The Doctor pulled out his own sonic screwdriver. “No, I didn't.”

“You did. Look at it.”

The Doctor quickly soniced Elise’s restraints before they stepped out of the Pandorica. He touched his screwdriver to Rory’s and they sparked. “Temporal energy. Same screwdriver at different points in its own time stream. Which means it was me who gave it to you. Me from the future. I've got a future. That's nice.” He pointed to the fossilized Daleks. “That's not.”

“Yeah. What are they?” Rory asked.

The Doctor looked at Elise and gestured for her to answer the question. She shook her head and he nudged her.

“They’re called Daleks,” she said.

Rory’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. She can talk.”

Elise rolled her eyes.

“Bigger picture here, Rory. History has collapsed. Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are just like after-images. Echoes. Fossils in time. The footprints of the never-were,” the Doctor explained.

“Er, what does that mean?”

“Total event collapse. The universe literally never happened.”

“So, how can we be here? What's keeping us safe?”

“Nothing. Eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out. Amy. Where's Amy?”

Rory led them outside.

Amy was lying on the ground not moving.

“Auntie Amy!” Elise said, dropping to her knees next to her.

The Doctor knelt down and put his fingers on her throat.

“I killed her,” Rory said.

“Oh, Rory.”

“Doctor, what am I?”

“You're a Nestene duplicate. A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity.”

“But I'm Rory now. Whatever was happening, it's stopped. I'm Rory.”

“That's software talking.”

“Can you help her? Is there anything you can do?”

“Yeah, probably, if I had the time.”

“The time?”

“All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened? All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe.”

Rory punched the Doctor, sending him to the ground. “She is to me!” Rory yelled.

“Dad!” Elise gasped, “Rory!”

The Doctor jumped to his feet. “Welcome back, Rory Williams! Sorry. Had to be sure. Hell of a gun-arm you're packing there. Right, we need to get her downstairs. And take that look off your plastic face. You're getting married in the morning.”

Rory carried Amy down into the Pandorica chamber and the Doctor placed her in the chair.

“So you've got a plan, then?” Rory asked.

“Bit of a plan, yeah. Memories are more powerful than you think, and Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. Grew up with a time crack in her wall. The universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got a bit more than they bargained for, like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul.” The Doctor placed his hands on Amy’s face and closed his eyes. “I'm leaving her a message for when she wakes up, so she knows what's happening.” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica, sealing Amy inside.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” Rory asked.

“I'm saving her. This box is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive.”

“But she's already dead.”

“Well, she's mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. Now, all it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it'll restore her.”

“Where's it going to get that?”

The Doctor checked his watch. “In about two thousand years.” The Doctor pulled out a Vortex Manipulator from his pocket and strapped it to his wrist.

“She's going to be in that box for two thousand years?” Rory asked.

“Yeah, but we're taking a shortcut. River's vortex manipulator. Rubbish way to time travel, but the universe is tiny now. We'll be fine,” the Doctor told him.

“So hang on. The future's still there, then. Our world.”

“A version of it. Not quite the one you know. Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look.”

The Doctor raised his wrist. “You put your hand there. Don't worry. Should be safe.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box.”

“Well, you and Elise got in there.”

“Well, there's only two of us. I counted.”

“This box needs a guard. I killed the last one.”

“No. Rory, no. Don't even think about it.”

“She'll be all alone.”

“She won't feel it.”

“You bet she won't.”

“Two thousand years, Rory. You won't even sleep. You'd be conscious every second. It would drive you mad.”

“Will she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer.”

“Rory, you…”

“Answer me!”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Then how could I leave her?”

The Doctor sighed. “Why do you have to be so human?”

“Because right now, I'm not.”

The Doctor typed in the date he wanted and the Vortex Manipulator started beeping. He grabbed Elise’s hand. “Listen to me. This is the last bit of advice you're going to get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but you're not immortal. I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along. You can't heal, or repair yourself. Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, however bored you get, stay out of…”

The Doctor and Elise vanished and Rory took his place guarding the Pandorica.

#eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #Rory Williams #rory williams imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: cracks in time #the pandorica opens #big bang

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null-whump · 5 years

Text

Felix –– Part Six

This is a series! Start here. Continued here.

At long last, I have arrived with part six! Sorry it took so long guys! I don’t know why but I got kinda stuck on this part, but I ended up getting inspired and I think it turned out pretty well in the end :)

I was originally going to have this be the last ordered part of the ‘intro series’ and then jump around in the timeline more, but I’ll end up having at least one, if not two or three more parts…we’ll see. Well, that’s enough of me talking, enjoy!

Warnings: Death, blood, asphyxiation, burns/stabbing, muzzling, slight dehumanization (Let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: 3,041

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It had been nearly three days since I last stepped outside, and the sunlight was a stark contrast to the dim candlelight I had become used to. Varren didn’t say a word to me other than commanding me to return to my animal form, before marching off at a brisk pace. I glanced back at the building we had exited, seeing it from the outside for the first time. It was a small house, made entirely of stone, even the roof. The seamless way it was put together told me that it must have been constructed with magic. I turned away and hurried after Varren, not wanting to risk making him angry.

We walked for at least an hour, and I eventually began to wonder why Varren hadn’t used another form of transportation. Even if he was unable to teleport to wherever we were going, he surely had a broom, didn’t he? He was a witch, after all, and I had never met one who didn’t use the traditional means of transportation.

Varren stopped abruptly at the top of a small hill and crouched down, still not speaking. I stopped as well and sniffed the air. I smelled humans, at least three, and some sort of monster. My ears picked up the faint sounds of an animal’s claws on wood, most likely the monster. The humans were conversing with each other, and I heard one of them laugh.

I flinched as Varren’s voice suddenly resonated in my mind. ‘How many?’

‘At least three humans,’ I replied immediately. ‘And one monster.’

I sensed irritation from Varren and tried to suppress the fear that jumped in my mind.

‘What kind of monster?’ He asked, his voice still calm and cold.

I sniffed again, trying to identify the scent. It smelled reptilian but other than that I couldn’t identify it. ‘I – don’t know for sure,’ I said hesitantly. ‘Maybe a dragon? A small one.’

Varren scoffed quietly. ‘I should have known you would be useless in identifying anything. I thought maybe you would at the very least you would be able to tell the species.’ Varren pulled his staff from his back and held it in front of him, still crouching out of sight. ‘Go down there and get more information.’

I obediently walked over the hill and began approaching what seemed to be a makeshift camp. Three humans sat around a small fire; two males and one female. I was right – the monster was a dragon, a very small one. It looked fully grown, but it wasn’t much bigger than the three humans. Its coloring and patterns marked it as an eclecticaren – a dragon of electricity. No wonder Varren was interested – eclecticarens were very rare.

I relayed the information back to Varren, who’s mood turned pleased immediately. ‘Approach them,’ he ordered. ‘I want them off their guards.’

I walked closer to the fire, crouching down as I approached. Given my size, it wasn’t hard for me to appear non-threatening, which was my goal. When I was within five feet of the fire, the dragon’s head turned sharply towards me, a low growl emanating from its chest. The humans jumped and reached for their weapons, but relaxed as soon as they saw me.

“Just a cat,” the girl said, obviously relieved. “You scared us, little guy.”

“Zi, can’t you tell the difference between an actual threat and a harmless animal?” One of the males groaned, looking to the dragon.

The dragon fixed the human with a hard gaze. I twitched my ears and stepped forward cautiously. The dragon’s head whipped back around to glare at me and I froze in my tracks.

“Calm down Zi,” the second male said. “It’s just a cat, it’s not hurting anything.”

“It seems pretty friendly,” the girl said brightly. She set the bow she had been holding on the log next to her and held out her hand. “C’mere little guy,” she coaxed. “We won’t hurt you.”

I was starting to get a sick feeling in my stomach. Whatever Varren had planned for these people, it wasn’t going to be good. I took another step forward, then another, until the girl was touching my head with her hand.

I heard Varren’s voice in my head again. ‘Take out the girl.’

It took all my willpower not to react as the girl continued rubbing my head. She was saying something to her friends, completely unsuspecting. Her discarded bow sat behind her. She wouldn’t have a chance. Maybe there was a way to alert her, a way that would give her a chance to fight back – maybe she would even kill me, that would be better –

‘What are you waiting for, boy?’ Varren demanded. ‘Kill her, now.’

It was an order, and I had no choice but to obey. Varren hadn’t given me any weapons, which meant I’d have to do it with my hands – with my bare hands – I crouched, ready to spring, unable to resist Varren’s command. The girl was smiling at me.

I focused, transforming every part of my body human except the tips of my fingers – my claws – as I lunged forward, aiming for her throat. I had killed before, but this was different. This was underhanded, unjustified – it was wrong. My claws ripped through her throat easily, and she didn’t even have time to scream before her blood was splattered across my face and hands.

“Zaria!” One of the males screamed while the other scrambled for his sword. The dragon roared, electricity sparking around its horns. I dove behind a nearby rock, barely avoiding the blast of lightning that shot towards me.

‘Subdue them,’ came Varren’s voice in my head. ‘But I want at least one of the humans alive.’

Subdue them?! How the hell was I supposed to subdue a dragon?! I jumped from behind the rock, transforming back into my cat form halfway. A small body meant a smaller target, and humans usually weren’t prepared to fight a cat. I dashed headlong towards the two humans, knowing that the dragon wouldn’t risk hitting his friends. The one with the sword swung his blade at me, but I easily dodged, then leaped up, again switching back to my human form.

Before either of them had a chance to react, I grabbed the arm of the human with the sword and pulled him in front of me and kicked the back of his knees, causing him to fall. My clawed fingers were on his throat before the other human could ready his weapon.

“Drop your weapons,” I said, trying to disguise the shaking in my voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t have a problem hurting Zaria,” the man across from me snarled. The dragon was crouched, ready to attack, and let loose another growl.

I clenched my jaw. How was I supposed to tell them that I hadn’t wanted to hurt her? They’d never believe me. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about answering.

“Well done, boy,” Varren said.

The dragon turned with a snarl and the man I wasn’t restraining raised the sword he had drawn.

Varren held up a hand. “I believe we have already established the situation,” he said calmly. “Unless you want to die, you will lower your weapons and come peacefully.”

The man across from me hesitated, then glanced from Varren to me and my hold on his companion. Then, reluctantly, he dropped his sword.

“Excellent.” Varren snapped his fingers and ropes materialized around the wrists of both men. Then, he turned to the dragon, whose head was on the same height as his. “What a magnificent creature,” he marveled. “A bit small, but that’s all for the better I suppose. Some things are better in small packages, while others…” he glanced meaningfully at me. “Others are not.”

Anger flared up inside me, but I didn’t react. I felt as if he wanted a reaction, and I wasn’t going to give it to him.

The dragon hissed, sparks gathering around its horns. Varren tsked, then snapped his fingers again, this time causing chains to loop around the dragon’s four legs and over its wings. The dragon yelped, as if in pain, and hunkered down, shaking its wings in an attempt to get rid of the chains, but to no avail. The dragon’s sparks died instantly. The chains must have been enchanted to suppress magic.

“What did you do to him?” Demanded the man I was holding.

Varren smiled at him. “Nothing permanent. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to request that the two of you do not cause me any trouble, or I will have my familiar dispose of you.” He glanced toward where the girl, Zaria, was laying. “Just like your friend there.”

I could practically feel the anger emanating from the two men, but I could feel even more the pleasure that Varren was getting from this. It sickened me. But there was nothing I could do.

The journey back was unpleasant, to say the least. Varren chained the two men in a small windowless room and put the dragon in the cellar, adding more chains to restrict its movement and bind its mouth shut. He had obviously prepared for this, considering the heavy enchantments on the walls of the dragon’s prison.

Once the dragon was secure, Varren approached it and laid his hand on its face. “Wonderful,” he murmured, staring into the dragon’s bright blue eyes. “You hold so much power…”

The dragon snarled, jerking on its chains. Varren only smiled in response.

“I look forward to using that power…after you have been tamed.”

The dragon hissed through its clenched teeth, but Varren was unperturbed. He turned away from the dragon and walked towards the stairs. “Come,” he said, not bothering to even look at me as he gave the command.

I felt my anger rise again, indignation at being told to heel like a pet. I hated it. I had never hated anyone as much as I hated Varren, and I had never felt so helpless against anyone either. I tried to suppress my anger as I followed Varren back into his study, where he sat in his chair and gave me a pointed look. The meaning behind it was clear. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to move in front of his chair before lowering myself to my knees.

Varren regarded me in silence for several seconds, during which I could feel my anxiety rising. Finally, Varren spoke.

“Your skills are passable,” he said. “You accomplished the mission I gave you, which is enough to deem you as not entirely worthless.”

I felt a sense of relief at his words. As much as I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t afraid of Varren, I had been dreading the thought of what would come from failing his task. Varren must have felt my relief because he laughed harshly.

“Don’t mistake my words for praise, boy,” he said. “You hesitated before killing that girl and don’t think for a second that I didn’t notice what you were thinking.” Varren leaned forward and placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look him in the eye. “You wanted her to kill you, is that right?”

I didn’t answer, I barely dared to breathe. The look in Varren’s eyes was chilling me to the bone, and I couldn’t deny the fear I felt.

“Answer me,” Varren ordered, his gaze growing harder.

“Y-yes,” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yes – sir,” I added, though I still felt resentment at the last word.

“At the very least it seems you have realized the pointlessness in lying to me,” Varren scoffed. “But yet you still defy me.”

My breath caught in my throat, and my fear returned in full force. And yet, there was still that part of me, that damned part of me that wouldn’t go away, that was angry. I shouldn’t be bowing to Varren’s every wish, I should fight, no matter how hopeless it seemed.

“There was no reason to kill her.” My own words shocked me, but I pushed past the last of my fear and mustered a glare. “You may be able to control me, but you can’t control everyone who gets in your way, and one day someone is going to stop you.”

Varren raised his eyebrows at me. “Speaking without permission again,” he said, though I detected a hint of anger in his usually calm tone. “You still are unable to follow even the most basic rules. Stop breathing.”

The command came so quickly, without warning, and I didn’t have time to draw a breath before my breathing was forcefully stopped. Varren stood to his feet and walked past me as I struggled futilely to draw a breath.

“It seems that you are determined to disobey me no matter what punishments I give you,” Varren said, walking to stand in front of the cold fireplace in the wall. With a snap of his fingers, the wood caught ablaze. He turned his head to look at me, and I barely registered his smirk through my panic.

‘He won’t let me die,’ I told myself, desperate for any reassurance. ‘He won’t let me die, he won’t –‘

“Breathe.”

I gasped, the rush of oxygen nearly making me pass out. I had only a few seconds of air before Varren spoke again. “Stop.”

My airflow was once again halted, and I felt tears sting in my eyes at the sheer helplessness of it all. It took me second to realize Varren was speaking again.

“Of course I’ll muzzle you again,” he was saying, while calmly stirring the fire with a metal tool. “But you need another punishment, something more…” he pulled the metal rod out of the fire and held it up, examining the red glowing end with a smirk. “Painful,” he finished.

I couldn’t begin to register the implications behind his words, as my vision was turning gray. I blinked and Varren was crouching next to me, still holding the glowing piece of metal. “Breathe,” he whispered in my ear, and I was gasping for air once more. After several desperate breaths, I realized that Varren was holding the metal rod directly in front of my face, just inches from my skin. I froze, trembling from my effort to steady my breathing while holding still. I heard Varren laugh quietly beside me.

“Where should I put this?” He asked. His tone was light, almost teasing, and that only made my fear worse.

He slowly moved the metal down towards my neck. “Here would be a good spot…that would hurt for weeks.” He moved to the left, above my shoulder. “Here would make your whole arm hurt for weeks. Or…” he moved it back towards my face. “You can still see with just one eye, right?”

A whimper escaped my throat as Varren waved the rod teasingly in front of my eyes. “C’mon, right or left? Or should I decide?”

I sat frozen, unable to move as Varren spoke, until he jabbed the metal quickly towards me, nearly striking my face. I fell back with a cry, my hands flying in front of my face. After several terrifying seconds, I realized the Varren hadn’t actually hit me, and I heard his laughter at my fear.

“Don’t worry kitten,” Varren said, seizing my arm and yanking me back toward him. “I wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty eyes of yours.” Then he threw me onto my back and stabbed the rod straight through my right shoulder.

The pain was so intense that I didn’t even realize I was screaming at first. It was a white, blinding pain, so fierce that I couldn’t do anything but clutch my arm and groan through my clenched teeth. My vision was blurry, and I vaguely saw that Varren was still kneeling over me, his hand on the end of the metal piece that was still in my arm. The pain was less noticeable now, but I think it was because I was going into shock.

“Hm,” said Varren, before twisting the rod in my arm.

The pain flared back in even greater intensity and I cried out again, feeling my consciousness fading. I heard Varren’s voice as if coming from far above me.

“No no no, you don’t get to pass out yet.” Then another flash of blinding pain, and I screamed again.

When the pain became manageable again, I saw that Varren had pulled out the metal rod and tossed it to the side. Now he was crouching next to me, looking down at me with amusement. I shut my eyes, unable to bear looking at his face. The pain in my arm made me groan and tighten my grip on my shoulder. This only served to send another flare of pain through my body, which made my eyes fly open with a gasp.

Varren was no longer above me, but he reappeared before I had a chance to wonder where he had gone. Without a word he seized my injured arm and pulled me forcefully off of the ground before throwing me forward onto my knees. I cried out as my injury was irritated more, but Varren didn’t seem to care.

The pain in my arm was so strong that I didn’t realize that Varren was putting something on my face until he pulled the leather straps of the muzzle so tight that they bit into my skin.

“I suppose I’ll leave it on for longer this time,” Varren said, standing to his feet. “If you still haven’t learned by the time I take it off, then we’ll just have to repeat our lesson, won’t we?”

I couldn’t have responded even if I wanted to, and Varren knew that. He laughed again and reached down to roughly ruffle my hair. My face burned with humiliation, but the overwhelming pain in my arm was distraction enough. Varren had made it clear that he wasn’t going to let me fight him, and I was only hurting myself by doing so.

‘Maybe,’ I thought despairingly, ‘maybe sometimes it's better not to fight. Maybe…it’s better to just survive.’

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Tag list! Let me know if you want to be added or removed, or if I somehow missed your name.

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @shameless-whumper @whumpity--whump--whump @whumpitywhumpwhump @nervous-writer @this-zombie-will-eat-you @abyssshifter @whumpersworld @whatwasmyprevioususername @why-did-i-say-that-when-i-was-7

#whump #pet whump #nonhuman whumpee #my ocs: felix #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: stabbing #dehumanization #Master/Slave #my ocs: varren

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snapsicle · 5 years

Text

dinosaur bones-oneshot

Hey! another one shot! this one mostly explores the concept of Snap having to deal with things without Rudy’s help. It’s got a lot of Doofi content!

rated: PG for body horror and crying

word count: 2050

TW: bones, science experiments, body horror

the whole thing is under the cut!

The sun was bright, smoltering and high over Doofus Rudy and Doofus Penny’s heads. They were just beginning to set up a small fence around a large area of sand- Doofus Penny theorized that there might be dinosaur fossils deep beneath the ground of the scorching desert landscape.

Doofus Rudy took a deep breath in and swiped sweat off his forehead. “Gee Doofus Penny, it sure is hard to work somewhere so…” Doofus Rudy scanned the landscape. “Hot. and Empty,”

He looked a bit stressed. “Why are we out here again?”

“I told you already a dodecabillion times, Doofus Rudy! We’re here to look for some scientific discoveries!” Doofus Penny continued. “And maybe after we find the scientific discoveries, we can look for dinosaur bones,” Doofus Penny looked proud of herself.

“Ohhhkay, if you say so, Doofus Penny,” Doofus Rudy said. With that, Doofus Penny hurled a shovel at Doofus Rudy which knocked him down to the ground. “Get to work now! We don't have a second to waste!”

After a couple hours of digging, Doofus Rudy and Penny were just about ready to quit. The desert sun was almost too much for them. They shoveled one last scoop of sand above their heads and above the considerable divot they’ve dug themselves into- and lifted up the shovel to scoop again, almost ready to collapse, and- THUNK. There was something buried under the shallow, damp sand.

“We hit something! We hit something! We hit something!” Doofus Penny and Rudy cried in unison. “How utterly scientastical!!” Doofus Penny cried and raised her hand for a high five. Doofus Rudy tried to high five her, but he missed, and fell face first into the sand. “Quick, hurry, Let’s see what it is!” Doofus Rudy said.

“Ohhkay, I just need to get out one of my super special science tools of science!” Doofus Penny responded. She promptly pulled out a small makeup brush and began to dust off their discovery.

It started off as a pale white stonelike object with many divots and curves, and morphed into the shape of some kind of skeleton the more they brushed off the giant thing’s skeleton. It was some kind of massive bipedal dinosaur.

“Wow wow wow!” Doofus Rudy exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! A real dinosaur fossil!!” He said, jumping up and doing a sort of awkward happy-dance.

“Let’s see if there's any more scientific discoveries hiding in the sand here!” Doofus Penny said.

The rest of the afternoon was spent digging around in the hot desert sun- but the heat didn’t seem to bother them anymore. They were too excited. By a couple hours later, They had uncovered almost hundreds of interconnected and massive dinosaur bones connecting into enormous skeletons all branching together, as if all these creatures had died at once, all being fossilized under thousands of years of hot desert sand.

The doofi were ecstatic.

“Look at all these AMAZING dinosaur fossils!” Doofus Rudy said. “What are we gonna do with all of ‘em?” He asked.

“Well you see, my dear partner in the arts- I’m going to put them in one of my scientific cloning machines and make MORE dinosaurs!” Doofus Penny said. “I’ve been working on a fossilized ancient creature cloning kit, or FACCK for short, that should, if working correctly, recreate the dinosaurs as they once were!” She continued, cramming all the bones into a backpack.

“So what are we gonna do once the FACCK makes all those dinosaurs?” Doofus Rudy said, cokcing his head to one side.

“Elementary, my dear Rudy!” Doofus Penny said. She was about to continue, but the question had stopped her in her tracks. “Wait. What ARE we gonna do with all these ancient chalkzone dinos?”

“Oh, Oh, I know!” Doofus Rudy said. “They’ll die and we’ll have even MORE fossils, which means that we’ll have even more scientific discoveries!”

“Ooooooh, that makes total sense!” Doofus Penny said, and slung the bag of bones over her shoulder and began to walk back to their travel van. Doofus Penny ordered the AI that drives the van to head back home, and with a sputter and a flash of lights, the thing coughed to life and klunked all the way back to their personal abodes.

Responsible Reggie was sitting on the porch and reading the newspaper. “How was your trip, you two? Did you have fun? Did you do everything I asked you to do?” He said, putting his paper to the side and staring at them inquisitively.

“It was a load of fun!” Doofus Rudy said.

“And yes, we put on sunscreen and didn’t get into any trouble.” Doofus Penny added. “Good. I’m starting to think I can finally trust you two to do things on your own without causing trouble,” Responsible Reggie continued. “Did you two bring back anything?”

Doofus Penny nodded and poured the bones out of her backpack. “DINOSAUR BONES!” She laughed and stomped in place. “Aren’t they scientastical?” Doofus Rudy and Penny started dancing around the small pile of chalk bones.

“That’s nice. You found them in the sand?” Responsible Reggie said. “Don’t you do anything dangerous with those old fossils,” He added.

“We promise we won’t!” Doofus Penny said, and shoved the bones back into her bag, and with that she was frolicking into her laboratory with Doofus Rudy right behind her.

“We should try and reassemble them now,” Doofus Rudy said. “Right?”

“Correct! We need to have them fully assembled when we put them in the FACCK.” Doofus Penny said. “Let’s get to building!”

To put it lightly, they had no idea what they were doing. The whole time they were putting the bones together, they were just shoving things where they fit, and not paying attention at all to whether it made sense to put the bone there- it was like putting together a giant puzzle without paying attention to the picture. By the end of it, they had put together a number of monstrosities- Heads attached to legs, legs attached to heads, elongated bodies with a grotesque amount of joints, one too many toes, arms attached to knees, legs to elbows- It was a mess. All the while, the giant construction of the cloning machine looming almost frightened over the horrible dinosaur amalgamations constructed by these curious scientists. Doofus Rudy and Penny started slamming the fossils in all at once, cramming them together and squeezing and cracking bones into the massive mouth of the funnel of the machine.

Doofus Rudy and Penny high fived while slack jawed, eyes twinkling as the FACCK roared to life. It blasted out steam every which way, and rumbled cartoonishly- like a washing machine with a brick. Right before the machine pooped out the first dinosaur, Responsible Reggie and a bewildered Snap burst in. They stopped in their tracks, amazed at the rumbling, roaring machine with all it’s bells and whistles clinking together and it’s technicolor screens flashing saturated red warning signs with yellow exclamation-mark error messages- and at the very end of the terribly huge machine came a pair of scaly green legs. They wiggled and kicked alive, and couldn’t seem to break out of the funnel- They were stuck. They kicked thrice more before the massive thing pried open it’s metal birthplace/prison and jumped out. It was a horribly huge and grotesque amalgamation of all different kinds of dinosaurs all haphazardly fused together, feathers, wings, legs, scales, spikes, and at least 3 heads. It ran out of the building and created a creature shaped hole in the wall. Behind it, other creatures just as grotesque flooded out of the newly largened hole in the side of the malfunctioning FACCK.

Snap, Responsible Reggie and the Doofi all the while gaping at this terrifying and strange sight.

“What. WHAT DID YOU DO?” Responsible Reggie almost screamed, bewildered. “Well, you see-” Doofus Penny began, and was cut off by a giant dinosaur creature running past and stepping on Snap, crushing him flat against the tile floor with a surprised yelp. Responsible Reggie shot up, surprised, and quickly grabbed the wrists of the Doofi and peeled Snap off the floor before anything else could crush him further into the ground. He sped out of the window and ran as fast as he could, the Doofi trailing behind him and Snap running alongside him. They hid behind a nearby bush in between the leaves and greenery.

“I’ll punish you two later. Right now we just need to STOP THOSE… THINGS from destroying half of Chalkzone!” Responsible Reggie cried.

The Doofi both looked ashamed and avoided eye contact.

“Who we NEED is an artist!” Snap shouted over the ruckus of the dinosaur-abominations running around wildly and destroying things. One of them was breathing fire on Doofus Rudy’s art studio.

Responsible Reggie looked unusually stern. “Snap. It’s 1 o'clock in realworld. Rudy isn’t out of school until 3.” He said, putting his hand on Snap’s shoulder. “One day you have to stop relying on the great and powerful chalk wielder and learn to fix problems on your own,”

Snap was almost crying at this point. The sound of the dinosaurs destroying everything in their path and the pressure of his sudden realization- He had to figure out how to solve big problems. Rudy isn’t going to be here forever.

“It’s- It’s-” Snap said, looking back at the Doofi, who were huddled around each other, Doofus Penny quietly sobbing and Doofus Rudy patting her on the back as if to comfort her, and back into the shining eyes of Responsible Reggie. “It’s not… I don’t know how to protect Chalkzone like Rudy does. I don’t know how to protect the people and places I love like Rudy does.” Snap was getting choked up.

“Now’s your chance to prove yourself. There's a problem that needs to be solved and Rudy isn’t here.” Responsible Reggie was firm. “It’s hard. I get it. But do you have any ideas?”

Doofus Rudy spoke up. “I….” He was timid. “Doofus Penny told me about something she was working on,” He said, unusually stoic. “It summons…. It summons meteors,”

Doofus Penny sniffed and wiped her nose on her shirt sleeve. “The. The meteor summoner?” Doofus Penny said.

“THAT’S THE ONE!” Doofus Rudy cried.

Snap stood up suddenly and sniffed. “I’ll distract the dinosaurs. You two go into what’s left of Penny’s lab and locate the meteor summoner. It’ll get rid of the dinosaurs, but your studios-”

“There isn’t much left of them anyway, meteor or not.” Responsible Reggie said sadly.

The Doofi looked confident and took a deep breath in. Doofus Rudy and Doofus Penny grabbed each other’s hands.

“On 3. Let’s go on 3.” Snap said, and tensed himself to run.

“1.” Responsible Reggie looked nervous.

“2” Doofus Rudy squeezed Doofus Penny’s hand.

“3!” They were off! Snap ran in zigzags and shouted teasing phrases.

“Come and get me, dino-breath!” He shouted and darted around the dinosaurs like he was herding sheep. He blew raspberries at them.

The Doofi ran in between the fray and avoided broken glass at their feet like hopscotch. Doofus Rudy grabbed a small remote with a single red button. “Well, here it is,” Doofus Penny said, clutching the thing. “I just hope we can get out of here before the meteor hits.” She said.

“Don’t be silly. You always make it out of sticky situations.” Doofus Rudy said. “That’s what makes you special.” Doofus Penny smiled. She pressed the button, and heard the distant roar of the meteor. Responsible Reggie, Snap and the Doofi all bolted out of there as fast as they could. The dinosaur-things were frozen in place as their eyes twinkled and their jaws gaped.

The meteor hit. Snap could feel the earth rumble. When the smoke cleared, the dinosaurs were gone along with the entirety of the art studio and the science lab.

Snap took a deep breath in.

“I did it. I solved something big,” Snap said. “I just hope the meteor wasn’t too much.”

Doofus Rudy and Penny were high fiving and doing a happy dance. “We did it!”

Responsible Reggie was tapping his foot. “I’ll punish you guys later. I’m just glad we turned out alright.”

Snap and the Doofi looked at the smoldering crater. At least it was over.

#chalkzone #my writing #doofus rudy #doofus penny #snap #responsible reggie #dinosaur bones

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thinkingagain · 5 years

Text

“But the lock we put on our own brains is about as easy to break as a door to a run-down apartment.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Two: Empire Chapter 42

Warm summer light at last vanished from the courtyards and compounds, from windows and doors, and soon enough from the fields that lay around the prison. Night came on.

In the outbuilding cell, the Madam’s totem animals had been kept cool by Love Frog. The cell was still stifling. As the sun disappeared from the above ground windows high up on the cell walls, all three animals adjusted their eyes to the darkness. They held on to each other to make sure they were feeling as safe as possible.

The Madam sat on the one hard bench in her own cell, against the back wall. Her face was alternately terrified and alert. When the cell block went dark, she breathed calmly, deep breaths and exhales through her nose. She listened inside herself not just to her own body but to the connections she had there to her animal friends. They would come to her, she was sure. Still it was difficult to believe what she knew. She was human. One of the most human things of all was doubt.

Muffin, Jack, and Young Mountain Goat huddled together at the back end of a basement corridor. They had kept on the move through the afternoon, not staying in any spot too long. Guards crossed and recrossed the labyrinth of the jail, looking for them, not finding them.

Muffin had been able to gather most of what they needed. Now, in the dark, they readied themselves for what would happen next. “We know where to get to,” Muffin said, “and what to do when we get there. An old building like this, without a sprinkler system or well-kept alarms, isn’t that difficult. ”

In the room where he had waited for nightfall, the Second-in-Command looked at the two other men who had recently joined him. Each of the men held a rifle as well as a pistol in their holsters. Some other equipment sat near them; a black box, some wire, a number of electrodes.

“We’ve been through all of this before, of course,” the Second-in-Command said. “This time, the circumstances are unique. Does the agenda I’ve outlined seem clear?” He was holding a black bag in his hands.

“You actually don’t seem to need us this time,” one of the men said. “Maybe you’re better off doing the job alone?”

“It might come to that,” the Second-in-Command said. “For right now, might as well stick to the standard approach.”

“And the ones still on the loose?” the other man asked.

“I have plenty of guards out. If you’ll excuse my saying so, the Commandant overestimates the degree of threat. I doubt an attack to free her will get as far as her cell, but if it does, we’ll be ready.”

The men nodded and picked up their equipment.

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

Muffin, Jack, and Young Mountain Goat made their way outside to several large trash bins near one long wall of the prison. Muffin started a fire quickly, and the three animals moved back inside. In another long abandoned prison cell, this one clotted with decaying mattresses and pillows, Muffin set another fire. The animals began moving, in an irregular pattern, towards the security room where the keys were held for the bunker that imprisoned the Madam’s totem friends.

After Muffin had set one more fire on the refuse piled in the corner of a large empty room, Jack and Young Mountain Goat split off from him and headed towards the bunker. They found two armed guards sitting lazily near the bunker’s door. Jack jumped silently off the goat’s back. Young Mountain Goat slipped around behind the bunker and, a few moments later, peered out from the dark on one edge of it.

Jack hissed a little rabbit hiss, barely audible, just enough to spring the guards to alert.

“You hear that?” one of the guards said. Both, rifles ready, looked out towards the sound.

Moving low across the ground, Jack hissed again and then, a few feet further on, again.

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

On his own now, in his paws a bag he had recently filled, Muffin reached the security room where the keys to the whole prison were held. Through the one small window into the room, he could see two Beasts sitting listlessly inside it, watching TV monitors of the compound. He pulled some brush from the bag and threw it on the ground near the door. He tossed on the brush some fragmented bits of cardboard and wood.

Looking through the window, he saw one of the Beasts point at one of the television monitors and look over startled at the other Beast. Muffin couldn’t see the monitor. But if his guess was right, the Beasts had just seen one of the several small fires already set in the compound. He lit a fire in front of their door.

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

Once they had passed through all the security doors and walked into the Madam’s cell, the men placed a heavy wooden black box in the cell and told her to step on it. They snapped electrodes to her head, wrapped the wire around her wrists and plugged the wire into a small machine that released an electric current. They took off her shoes, then spilled water on the floor of the cage. If she stepped down from the box and the electric current was turned on, electrocution was likely.

They came out of the cell and handed the Second-in-Command, who had not walked into the cell, the small, crude electric shock machine. Then they locked the Madam’s cell.

“People often think interrogation requires fancy technology,” the Second-in-Command said to her. “It’s not true. The basics of breaking the will of an interrogated suspect need only simple methods and principles. We like to think of our brains as complex mechanisms, and sometimes they are. But the lock we put on our own brains is about as easy to break as a door to a run-down apartment. It always amazes me when humans feel safe in the flimsy little houses of their own biology. I can turn you so quickly against things you think you believe profoundly that you’ll see, soon, that you never did believe them.”

The Madam, standing on the black box, began listening inside herself intently, trying to concentrate more than she ever had.

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

One of the outbuilding cell guards moved forward into the darkness. Jack leaped, hitting the guard on the side of the head and knocking it to the ground shouting. “What’s happening, Bill?” the second guard said into the shadows. The fallen guard tried to regain its feet and Jack hit it several more times and took its gun. The second guard stepped forward.

Young Mountain Goat, head lowered, picked up speed quickly across the several yards he ran. The second guard turned in time to get the heavy rounded horns of Young Mountain Goat directly in the gut. It fell to the ground and doubled over, breathless.

Muffin saw one of the Beasts in the security room lean forward and pull a lever. Soon an alarm was ringing across the compound. Moments later, the other Beast looked out through the window and saw the fire burning in the hallway. Both guards, brandishing weapons, opened the door to the security room and hurried out into the hallway.

They looked around briefly, not seeing Muffin, who had crouched behind a table a few feet down. The guards hurried towards the fire extinguisher just above the table Muffin was hiding behind. The small fire Muffin had started was spreading down the hallway. One of the Beasts grabbed the extinguisher and started hosing down the fire, following its path down the hallway, eventually disappearing around a corner.

The other Beast, gun drawn, looked around for any sign of intrusion. Muffin knocked the table leg hard against the Beast. It howled and looked down, uncertain what had happened. Dodging out of the Beast’s sight, Muffin slipped into the security room. The Beast was still in the hallway, cursing.

Muffin found a row of keys hanging in the security room and grabbed all of them. Hearing the sound of that maybe, the Beast looked back towards the security room door, then hurried towards it. Muffin tripped the Beast as it reached the door. It fell with a shout, hard onto its hands, and slid a foot or two across the floor. Muffin, keys in hand, hurried out the door of the security room, then reached the door where he had first come onto the hallway. He went outside.

Alarms sounded all over the prison. Muffin made his way quickly to the outbuilding cell. He found Young Mountain Goat beating against the iron box door with back kicks of his powerful Magic Animal hooves. The kicks had dented the door but not broken it. Other Beasts could be seen and heard moving around outside in the prison, shouting about the fires.

Young Mountain Goat stepped aside and Muffin went through the keys quickly, trying each of them in turn until one fit the lock. He opened the door with a grating screech.

The Madam’s totem animals, behind the door, rushed out. Nodding thanks at their rescuers, they hurried away. Muffin looked at Young Mountain Goat and Jack, who were now fighting off several Beast guards, and followed the totem animals as quickly as he could.

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

The Second-in-Command had left the Madam standing on the box in her cell while he and the other two men chatted and laughed. “How do you like the accommodations?” he eventually asked her through the bars. “Sometimes, allowing my guests a few minutes to get used to their surroundings is all the persuading I need.”

The Madam had shut her eyes and was listening inside herself.

“Obviously,” the Second-in-Command said, “your goal is to topple the Commandant’s organization and prevent him from helping you in the cause you say you’re in favor of. I’m not—right now at least—going to try to change your mind about the ludicrousness of that. I’m more interested in how you think your goal is going to be achieved.”

“What specifically would you like to know?” The Madam looked at him with expressionless eyes. “I actually don’t have any problem telling you.”

“You said that before,” the Second-in-command said. “I didn’t believe you then either.”

“We’re not hiding anything. We’ve come here directly, to confront the Commandant and eliminate the threat he creates for everyone, animal and human. There’s no dark secret. Or if there is, it’s his. And maybe yours.”

“How were you able to find us so easily? No one knew our location.”

“Our tracking equipment is effective,” the Madam said, “and we have experts. You’ll know better than I how seriously the Commandant was trying to hide. It seems likely you were expecting us.”

“Equipment?” The Second-in-Command sneered. “You mean, with all your Magic Animal power, you use human technology just like we do? I don’t see why not. After all, if Magic Animals come across things superior to what they can create, why not use them? Assuming they can figure out how.”

“We feel ready to use whatever comes to hand,” the Madam said, “even if sometimes we dislike it. It’s not resources that are the problem. We just reject them when they’re put to damaging uses.”

“Damaging uses? I take it you don’t approve of my little machine.”

“I think it expresses perfectly the kind of world you’re stuck in,” the Madam said, “and I’m sorry.”

The Second-in-Command’s top lip drew up to reveal tightly-clamped teeth. “So sure of yourself. How about if we try this?”

He gave a slight turn to the dial on his little machine. The Madam tremored with pain.

“As you see,” the Second-in-Command smiled, “it has its uses.”

A loud alarm bell rang powerfully from the ceiling. The Second-in-Command startled, as did the two men nearby. The alarm kept ringing.

“Trouble,” the Second-in-Command said calmly. “I wonder what kind. These old buildings aren’t much use. Still, it’ll take more than few half-wit animals to break through the doors that lead down here.”

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

The totem animals fought off several disorganized guards as they crossed the prison grounds. Busterella pounded them with quick body blows that left them bruised and gasping. Sir Henry tripped one or two with his trunk. Love Frog followed behind, alert for any surprise threats. It didn’t take long to reach the outer door of the building where the Madam was being held. A few moments later Muffin had joined them.

“This is the Maximum Security building,” Muffin told them. “You can be sure she’s down in the deepest part of it. I have keys to maybe a few of these doors, but I’d guess not all. Some newer replacement doors will likely be code-locked. I should be able to crack those, but it’ll take a few minutes.”

The outer door was an older iron gate, with a large round door handle that had to be pulled out and rotated once the door was unlocked. Muffin began trying the keys that he had, but the first several didn’t fit.

Sir Henry trumpeted impatiently. Then he stopped and inhaled deeply. Muffin looked at him and backed away from the door.

Henry grabbed the big ring of the door and turned it until it stopped at the lock. He inhaled again, then with his trunk he pulled the door ring so hard that the lock ripped out of its socket. He wasn’t a large elephant, true, but he was an elephant after all, a magic one, legendary for his surprising feats.

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

One of the men with the Second-in-Command heard, over his walkie-talkie, a buzz and then a voice. He put the transceiver to his head and listened, then turned to the Second-in-Command grimly. “The prisoners in the bunker have escaped.”

“Doubtful,” the Second-in-Command said.

“Doubtful or not,” the man frowned, “it’s true.”

The Second-in-Command looked at the Madam. “What do you know about this?”

“What could I possibly know, down here?” the Madam said. “Maybe your defenses aren’t all you think they are. As you said, we’re all easily broken.”

“These defenses, you mean?” The Second-in-Command gave her a small twist of the current. Her body jerked.

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

There was a code-locked door at the end of another passageway. Using techniques he had learned from Lucky Blue, Muffin went to work on it. He opened it in about a minute.

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

“One of the inner doors has been breached,” the man with the walkie-talkie said to the Second-in-Command.

“I guess this is why I told the two of you to come armed,” the Second-in-Command said. “I don’t want to have to abandon the interrogation before we’ve really gotten started. Think you can manage a few small unarmed animals? A little bunny, a little koala, a little frog, something like that?”

“Those little animals have just breached two serious security doors,” said the man with the walkie-talkie.

“You’re armed,” the Second-in-Command insisted, voice hot. “Breach their heads with a bullet maybe? I can take care of the situation in here.”

The two men picked up their rifles and stepped out the innermost security door, locking it behind them.

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

At the next door, the totem friends and Muffin stood, uncertain. It was made of thick iron and set into a bed of thick stone. “Henry?” Muffin asked.

The elephant shook his head no.

“Okay then.” Muffin reached into his little Beast bag. “We’ll have to blow a hole in the wall. It’ll take me a few minutes to set this up. And it’s dangerous. Very.”

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

“I’m glad it’s only the two of us again,” the Second-in-Command told the Madam. “After all, there’s no reason that anybody has to see you break down but me. Give me a minute though. I need to booby trap this room properly should I have to hurry out. You understand that if there’s an armed struggle going on, the Commandant might blame me if you were shot or otherwise showed any signs of direct human attack. But a fire? Who can help a fire? Especially one that your own animal friends set.”

From a small drum, he splashed oil across the floor of the Madam’s already water-wet cell. She made no attempt to get off the box. The Second-in-Command still had the torture machine nearby.

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

The explosion blew some small holes in the stone near the door lock. The animals came back from the far end of the hall, where they had been crouched down behind a hastily-put-together barrier of old furniture and unused granite blocks. The lock itself, exposed, still partly held. Henry wrapped the door handle in his trunk and wrenched the door off its hinges.

The first gunshot grazed his elephant foot. The animals dropped to the ground. A wave of bullets sprayed past them. Muffin crawled quickly across the rubble-strewn floor to a spot hidden from the gaping doorway. Occasional bullets shot through the doorway. Muffin couldn’t see any clear angle to get into the next room.

The Beasts there were clearly trained killers, nothing like the half-witted guards strewn across the rest of the prison.

Muffin’s excellent ears determined, from the rustling in the next room, the position of the Beasts on the other side of the doorway. They were out of the direct line of the doorway but would have clear easy shots at anybody standing in it. Muffin indicated that to Busterella and Henry, who had each moved forward to protected spots closer to the door. Busterella was anxious and restive. She, especially, wanted to rush to the aid of the Madam right that second. She would sacrifice her life if needed.

In a perfect imitation of the voice of the hapless Beast who lived at the Demesne, Muffin said, “There’s really no point. I and most of the other humans have already gone over to the animal side. You might as well lay down your weapons.”

“What?” The Beast voice from the other room was confused. “Who are you?”

Muffin could hear their shuffling uncertainty. He stepped back from his spot, still out of sight from the doorway. He picked up a piece of stone that had been blown from the doorway wall. Listening carefully for the angle, he threw the stone hard through the doorway and banked it off a wall. “Argh,” one of the Beasts shouted, stung and startled.

“You might as well turn back,” the other Beast called out. “We’ve been down here for hours with your precious witch. There’s not a whole lot left of her.”

Furious and alarmed, but silent as always and wise enough to dash between spots of cover, Busterella moved as quickly as she could towards the doorway. She prepared to rush the Beasts.

They would probably have time to shoot her, Muffin calculated, although with her quickness Busterella might be able to attack one of them before she fell.

Based on what he knew of the other room, and the rock he had thrown, Muffin made another calculation and stepped back farther towards the middle of the room, at just the angle he needed.

He threw his voice through the doorway and against the wall at the back of the other room so that it seemed, unquestionably, to be coming from behind the Beasts’ heads. “You’re surrounded. Drop your weapons or die.”

Startled, both Beasts turned to look behind them. One of them let its rifle drop and reached for the pistol in its holster.

Busterella leaped through the doorway in a blur. The Beasts were still looking behind themselves, seeing nothing. They turned as Busterella came through the door.

Busterella uncoiled a taut koala fist into the chest of one of the turning Beasts. It cut as deep into the Beast’s chest as if it had been a sword. The Beast’s body quavered with the shock of it. The other Beast, screaming, turned its pistol at Busterella. She rammed the Beast impaled on his fist back into the second Beast, knocking its pistol at an angle.

Muffin, speeding into the room, launched a jump kick at the second Beast, crushing its jaw so that its neck turned with a sickening crunch. It went down, lifeless. Busterella yanked her paw out of the first Beast’s chest. A piece of its heart glistened freshly in her koala claws. Enraged, Busterella looked at Muffin, and then at the final door, one made of modern Beast materials and with a coded lock.

“This one’s going to be tougher than the last,” Muffin said.

Busterella nodded in silent determination.

The final door had a tiny, multi-layered pane of glass at its top. Through it, the animals could see that the next room was on fire.

While Muffin worked the code calmly, Busterella, frantic, turned around and looked in the direction they had come. Love Frog was glowing with insistent concern. There was no sign of Henry the blue elephant.

#bunny #rabbit #revolution #empire #satire #animals #animal rights #politics #adventure #theory #fantasy #science fiction #environmentalism #sir sleepy

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heyyyharry · 6 years

Text

Hand In Hand

(From the Flatmate Series)

...in which Y/N and Harry spend some quality time together, but only because they’re handcuffed (to each other).

Warning: too much fluff, kinky Harry, soft Harry, drunk Y/N.

Wattpad link

It all started when Y/N found that 'object' on her bedroom floor.

A pair of handcuffs.

Her first reaction was plain shock because it was definitely not hers, and there were only two people in that flat. So it wasn't hers then, of course, it belonged to...

"HARRY!"

Y/N's scream nearly tore all the walls down and it took no time for her to show up at his bedroom door. Harry instantly hopped out of bed, looking extremely terrified as he started second-guessing what he'd done wrong this time. Without waiting for him to figure out on his own, the girl held up the pair of handcuffs with two fingers and a look of disgust, asking him to explain. The smirk on his face had already confirmed that he was in no doubt guilty.

"It must have fallen out from the laundry basket," her flatmate explained calmly, taking the thing back from her hand. "It was in my jacket, I forgot to take it out."

Hearing that made Y/N sigh in relief. She laid her hands on her chest, rolling her eyes upward. "Thank God. I thought you had sex in my room."

"Who said I haven't?" It was just a joke, which he immediately regretted after seeing the look on her face. "Never. I swear."

Y/N shot the brunette a death glare and was about to leave, but her eyes lingered on the object for a bit too long. When Harry noticed that stare, a playful smirk soon spread across his lips as he lifted an eyebrow at the girl.

"Curious?"

She cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head. With a bit of hesitation, Y/N pondered for a while before gathering enough bravery to question, "what exactly do you use them for? Handcuff your partner to the bed?"

Harry almost choked on air as he heard that. He tried so hard to contain his laughter so his innocent flatmate wouldn't feel embarrassed. Even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with her question, to hear her talk about sex, even just indirectly, was something very new and amusing to him.

"Yeah, I do sometimes," he answered casually. "But there are so many other things you can do with these."

Y/N's cheeks were burning up as she was almost hypnotized by Harry rotating one of the metal cuffs around his forefinger. His previous answer was echoing inside the walls of her brains and she was trying so hard to stop her imagination from getting a bit out of hand.

"Last night the girl I was with came up with an idea that I would handcuff my own wrist—"

Click. The cuff was now locked around Harry's right wrist, causing Y/N to widen her eyes in shock. She wanted to speak up but she was somehow unable to make a sound, still so bewildered, and at the same time, distracted by Harry's words.

"—to her wrist and see what kind of new positions we could come up with. It's a fun little challenge, when you're...restricted."

Y/N swallowed hard, sweating through her palms, heart beating out of rhythm when he took a step forward, but she was not even given time to question his intention. Once she heard that familiar 'click' and looked down, the other cuff was already closed around her left wrist.

"What are you doing?!" She literally screamed in his face. "Let me go!"

"I just want you to try it once. It's not like we're actually doing it." He laughed, clearly amused by her reaction which was completely expected anyway. He found joy in ticking her off, her anger was actually his reward.

"Okay...now I've tried it. Unlock me."

"Okay, okay. God, you must be fun at parties." Harry rolled his eyes, chuckling and reaching out to open the top drawer of his nightstand. As a look of terror flashed across his face, Y/N began to feel uneasy.

"Well, do you have the key, Harry?"

Harry stood up straight, running his fingers through his own hair as he said, "Of course I do...It's just...not where I thought it would be."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Calm down," he told her, holding up his other hand. "Let's split and look for it."

"How can we freaking split, genius?!"

"Can you stop yelling?! You're making me nervous! It must be around here somewhere. We have to work together to find it."

Y/N turned her eyes to the handcuffs linking her wrist to Harry's. Maybe she should listen to him and cool down so they could work together and find the key, which was most likely just lying somewhere in their flat. If she kept on freaking out, she'd stay in this situation for God knew how long.

"When I'm finally out of this thing, I'll kill you." She shut her eyes. "I swear, I will kill you with my bare hands."

"Okay, I get the concept," he exhaled sharply. "Now, why don't we start over there?"

The search had gone on for almost an hour. They'd checked every single corner in their flat, and still, they found absolutely nothing. Somehow they'd ended up on the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinet, utterly hopeless.

Y/N was the first to speak up. "I have to babysit in half an hour. This is all your fault."

"Babysit who?"

"The kid upstairs."

"He's like fifteen!"

"Not that one, the other one."

Harry's eyes grew wide as soon as her words struck him like lighting.

"There's another key!" He cried out in joy and Y/N's frown was turned upside down in a heartbeat.

"Where is it?!" She asked

"I don't have it."

"Then wh-"

"No, listen, I don't have it but I know where it is. I need to make a phone call," he said fast, pulling out his phone and dialing the contact with the name 'Karen'. Y/N assumed it was the girl he'd slept with last night. Only the thought of it could irritate her.

"She doesn't pick up. I'll text her."

"What if she doesn't have it?"

"Then we have to cut off our hands." Y/N's eyes could just fall right out of her head.

As Harry was dying of laughter from seeing her reaction, his phone chimed to notified a reply from Karen. She watched his face when he read it and his frown let her know things weren't looking up for the two of them.

"She has the key but she's currently out of town." He stared at the screen a bit longer. "Wait, wait, wait! She'll be home at 6PM so I can still make it to Niall's birthday party tonight."

"What about my babysitting job?" She questioned in doubt as Harry rose from the kitchen floor, pulling her up with him.

"You're still going to babysit. I'm coming with you."

That didn't sound like a great plan, but they didn't have a plan, or a choice. So Y/N guessed it was the optimal solution for now. Great, she thought to herself, now I have to babysit two kids at once.

"Y/N, my dear!"

The single mother couldn't be happier to see her babysitter. She'd been all dressed up and ready to leave for her date tonight. But the moment she saw Harry, the smile immediately fell from her full red lips.

"Uh, who is this?"

"My flatmate, Harry. He's babysitting with me today."

Y/N put on a smile and Harry did the same.

"But I only pay for one of you."

The flatmates exchanged worrying looks and at the same time turned back to their upstairs neighbor.

"Yes, of course." The girl chuckled. "Harry's only here because we're in an inconvenient situation."

Harry raised his right hand, and Y/N, her left, causing the handcuffs to make a clinking sound, which they'd already got tired of hearing.

"Oh..." The woman's lips formed a big circle when she realized the big problem here. "Well, I'll be back before 6PM. You know the rest." Then she handed the key to the babysitter and hurried to the lift without a single look back. That was easier than Y/N had thought.

However, unlike his mother, the six-year-old child just couldn't ignore the fact that his favorite babysitter was handcuffed to another person. He kept on asking about it, not giving up until she gave him a justifying answer.

"Harry and I were...role-playing. Harry was the criminal and I was the cop. I caught him and handcuffed him to me so he wouldn't run."

"Can't believe you're saying that to a kid..." Harry said and Y/N immediately smacked his arm.

The child, of course, fully believed in that made-up story. He clapped his hands with enthusiasm and asked if he could join their fun little game. "How about Harry has you as his prisoner and I'm another cop coming to rescue you?"

"Sure, Jamie, let's do that!" Y/N agreed, nodding her head.

"Why does Harry have to be the bad guy?" Harry looked at her, pointing a finger to himself but he didn't get a reply from either of the other two. It left him with no other choice but to accept his role as the bad guy.

Harry had thought this would be the worst day of his life, but now things were looking up.

If anyone had told him today he'd be babysitting some kid he didn't know with his flatmate and finding it enjoyable, he would've laughed in their face. Now half of him wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. The handcuffs weren't that bad, except for when one of them had to pee, the other person must be right nearby (with their face turned away and eyes closed of course), and they couldn't change their clothes or take a shower. As awful as it might sound, that was the closest he'd ever been to Y/N. He'd always thought that she wouldn't ever voluntarily hang out with him.

"Is it my turn yet?" Harry groaned, watching Y/N coloring the Cheshire Cat in the huge Alice In Wonderland coloring book, and Jamie humming a song while working on The Mad Hatter. Y/N had her tongue stick out from the corner of her lips, the thing she always did when she was concentrating on something. Though he might never tell her, Harry had always found it adorable.

"You're not getting your turn, Harry. You don't have a right hand."

"I can use my left."

"Then you'll ruin our masterpiece."

"Y/N, please?"

"Alright, alright. But you can only color the roses," said Y/N as she tried not to laugh and handed him the red crayon.

It was now 6:30 PM.

Y/N and Harry climbed into the backseat of the taxi as he told the driver the address. She had expected that they were going to someone's house to get the key, but it took her a moment to realize they were heading to a nightclub instead.

"Wait, I thought we're going to Karen's?" She widened her eyes at her flatmate who looked away to avoid eye contact. Y/N was sure that the look on his face couldn't be good news.

"She told me she'd missed the train so she'd be back late."

"Where are we going then?"

"It's Niall's birthday, so..."

"Oh no, no, no!" The girl shook her head rapidly. "I am not hanging out at some bar with your friends!"

"Too bad you are. It's not like you have a choice, Y/N."

"You do! You can just not go!"

"I can't miss this! It's my best friend's birthday!"

"Fine!" She furiously tugged hard on the handcuff causing Harry to wince in pain. She couldn't care less if she'd hurt him, he deserved that and anything worse than that for bringing her into this mess with him.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "Niall's very nice."

Niall Horan was Harry's best friend. Him, Harry, and Y/N all went to university together. She had never actually spoken a word to him before even when he'd come over so often her flat was more like his second home now. She couldn't confirm how 'nice' he was but probably the nicest among Harry's friends. The people her flatmate hung out with didn't like her very much, probably because she didn't like them. So it was no surprise she only received unwelcoming stares from those people when she showed up together with Harry.

Niall looked at Harry and then Y/N and then Harry again, raising one of his eyebrows because he still couldn't explain to himself why those two were together. "I don't know if I should be mad that you brought Y/N or you came here so underdressed."

"I'm handcuffed to Y/N. We lost the key."

This time both of them raised their linked wrists perfectly in sync because they were used to it by now.

"Oh, I get it." Chuckling, Niall attempted to high-five Harry but his best friend only shook his head and kept his expression indifferent.

"Not what it looks like, Niall."

"It's okay, mate. I won't judge." The blue-eyed boy patted Harry on the back, still believing in what was far from the truth; but Harry knew there was no use trying to explain their situation to him. He and Y/N exchanged looks in silence as they both followed the guy.

Niall handed each of them a beer and told them to enjoy it because it was his birthday after all. As Harry happily complied, Y/N, on the other hand, was way too tense right now. She couldn't understand how her flatmate could be so untroubled by the fact that they were still in handcuffs. She wished she was half as chill as he was.

"Drink, Y/N. It's not poison."

"I don't think I should."

"You've been given a once in a lifetime chance to finally have some real fun. I guarantee that we'll get out of these handcuffs, but until then you're gonna have to stop overthinking." He nudged her hand with the cold beer, telling her to take it and flashing her the most gorgeous smile she'd ever seen from him. "Please? Just this once, for me."

That was all it took for her to think 'fuck it' and grabbed the bottle to gulp the beer all at once. Harry watched in awe as his flatmate finished the bottle in one go and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand when she demanded another one.

It didn't take too long until the amount of alcohol she'd consumed finally kicked in. The thing she did next really put him in shock. She climbed on top of a table, asking him to come along as if he had another choice. While the music was loud and everyone was cheering for them, Y/N told him to dance with her. And he did, without even a bit of hesitation.

He couldn't care less if his friends made fun of him the next day when they were all sober. He'd never had this much fun in such a long time and he was so proud to think he'd brought out this new side of Y/N, or alcohol had; either way it was amazing to see her let herself lose, and for just one night, stop thinking about what other people thought of her.

"This is so much fun!" Y/N jumped without warning and almost fell off the table as she missed a step. Lucky for her Harry was there to grab her just in time. She was laughing like an insane person now, and he knew for sure tomorrow she wouldn't remember anything starting from this point.

Karen eventually texted him to say she'd just got home and that he could come over to get the key now. So he told Y/N they had to go. Of course, she refused, but Harry had decided that she was not in her right mind to make a decision.

On the taxi leaving the club, she had nearly passed out. Her head was resting on his shoulder and her left hand found its comfort place in his right with no intention of letting go. Her hand was cold but it was the softest he'd ever touched in his life. Not until then did Harry realize that one so flustered from just something as innocent as hand-holding.

The taxi finally pulled over in front of a building. With a bit struggle, Harry still managed to get both of them out of the vehicle, telling the driver to wait and letting her stand with her back against the door. Her fingers were still intertwined with his and she was a little awake now.

"Harry I want to go home nooow...I don't want to be here..." She was pouting like a child and it was actually the first time he'd seen her so soft. If he must admit, Harry would say he wanted her to be like this all the time, all needy and clingy, just for him.

Using his free hand to stroke her back, he leaned down to whisper to the sleepy girl, "just be patient, love. I'll take you home but we need to get the handcuffs off first. Will you be a good girl for me and wait a bit?"

On spur of the moment, Y/N closed the distance between them and laid her cheek on his shoulder, face buried into the crook of his neck. Though her voice was muffled by his hot skin, he could still make out what she wanted to say.

"I'll be a good girl."

Those four words alone were enough to turned Harry to stone. He could never have imagined such words being said in a non-sexual way would ever make him weak at the knees. He should really be concerned. He might be, maybe later. Now he was just thrilled to bits.

"Why weren't you this sweet when you were with me?"

The voice caused his head to spin to the side and he spotted Karen walking towards them. The girl stopped and leaned her shoulder against the taxi with a big smile on her face.

"Who's this special lady? Your girlfriend?"

"No."

"You sure treat her like she is."

Harry chuckled as his left arm tightened around Y/N waist. "She just...means a lot to me."

Karen shrugged because what he'd said was pretty obvious. She didn't ask anything else and just took out the key from her purse, handing it to him.

Harry literally growled in relief as he took no time to unlock the handcuffs, releasing his sore wrist, as well as Y/N's. Once they were no longer attached to one another, he helped her slide into the back seat, and thanked Karen for her help before getting into the taxi as well. The girl waved goodbye to the two of them, knowing that was probably the last time she and Harry spoke. After all, they'd only had sex once, it didn't mean anything to neither of them.

As Harry turned away from the window to the sleeping girl in his arms, whose hand was still holding his as tight as before, he realized this was something entirely different.

Once they had arrived at their flat, Harry sat Y/N down on her bed and used her makeup wipes to clean her face, knowing she'd be pissed in the morning if he let her sleep in her makeup. When he was done, she was a bit awake.

She smiled at him with her hooded eyes and blurted, "you're so pretty."

That compliment let him know she was still very drunk. Harry thanked her still as he laughed and intended to leave the room, but she stopped him immediately. Y/N rolled over and patted on the empty side of the bed, telling him to lie down with her. At first, he was reluctant. They had crossed so many lines tonight already starting with them holding hand and her sleeping with her head on his chest. However, he agreed to stay.

It didn't take so long for Y/N to fall back to sleep, this time, with Harry's arms wrapped around her.

It was all so quiet here, nothing but the sound of Y/N's soft breathing. Harry was still wide awake, staring at the ceiling as he began to replay their entire day in his mind. While holding her in his arms and feeling her heart beating in sync with his, it finally hit him that he'd grown more attached to his flatmate each and every day they lived together. It was scary to think that there might come a day when he woke up and realized he couldn't live without her. He wanted to make her happy, he truly did, but his fear of having feelings for her was solid proof that he was incapable of doing so.

"Please forgive me if I'm not here when you wake up. I can't let myself do that to you," he whispered to her, knowing she couldn't hear anything he said. The young girl purred faintly when he kissed her hair and he could only hope she was dreaming of him.

When he left her alone in her bed and walked out, Harry finally learned that making the right decision didn't always feel so good.

Y/N woke up the next morning alone in her bed, still in the same clothes from the night before. Even though her recent memories were all blurred, she did recall herself dancing and singing and being an embarrassing mess in front of her flatmate and his friends. And as much as she would like to stay in her room for the rest of the day and skip all the classes to deal with her terrible headache, her stomach was growling for food, leaving her no choice but to drag herself out of bed and heavy feet to the kitchen.

When Harry walked in, he found her full of energy while making breakfast and singing that annoying song from last night at the bar, probably not even knowing why that tune was stuck in her brain.

"Good morning!"

"Jesus Christ! You scared me, Harry!"

"How do you still have so much energy left after last night?" He chuckled, pulling out a chair to sit down as she placed the eggs and bacon on two plates and carried them to the kitchen table to join him.

"Ooh, you made me breakfast!"

The excitement on his face got her grinning. "To say thank you for putting up with me last night." She paused a bit before finding the nerve to ask, "how bad was I?"

"I have the clips. Wanna see for yourself?"

"No, thanks." She immediately refused, yet nonchalant smile was soon displayed on her pink lips. "But I remember how fun it was. Had a nice dream too."

"Really? About what?"

"Nothing that would interest you," she simply replied. "But we should do that again sometimes, not the handcuffs! Hanging out I mean."

Harry was taken aback by that suggestion. "Hanging out? Like...just you and me?"

"Yeah...only if you want...We can do something, go somewhere...together, sometimes."

Oh little did she know, Harry was over the moon.

"Yes," he said with the happiest smile she'd ever seen. "I think I'd love that."

#soft flatmate harry for everyone #yes she still owes him a favor from the last part and no i haven't forgotten about it lol #flatmate!harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #boyfriend!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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diinofayce · 6 years

Text

Shadows on the Horizon - 9

Pairing: Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x OFC! Layne Hardin | Word Count: 1.8k | Warnings: small descriptions of violence, minor swearing| A/N: This is a sequel to my story Like a Whisper in the Night | Shadows on the Horizon Masterlist

When Bucky opened his eyes after the flash he found himself still standing in the darkness. He looked around himself a bit in confusion, he didn’t understand, he thought they had called a truce, was the Soldier planning on trying to fool everyone that he was better and leave Bucky trapped here in the cold and dark? No, that wouldn’t work, Layne would know something was wrong right away.

There was the sound of iron bars slamming and Bucky whirled around to find himself looking at the Soldier through the bars of a cell. The cell that Bucky had been trapped in for the last 48 hours, watching from the inside as the Soldier once again took control of him. It hadn’t changed since the last time Bucky was stuck inside his own mind years ago, why should it have? It’s not like you can add furniture to your subconscious.

“It is not so nice, here in the dark,” the Soldier spoke, his eyes - harsher and more intense than Bucky’s - roaming the bleak nothingness that surrounded them.

“No, not particularly,” Bucky responded tersely walking up to the bars and wrapping his vibranium hand around the cold metal. It felt solid and real, these were new. When Bucky had been trapped inside of himself at the hands of Hydra it was just endless expanses of darkness. He remembered spending what were probably years running non-stop inside of his own mind, only stopping to watch the terrible missions that Hydra commanded of the Soldier. The fortified cell was new and could only be Shuri’s doing.

“You locked me in here. You tried to forget me,” the Soldier accused and Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“For four years. You’ve been here for four years. I was in here for over seventy while you murdered innocent people.”

“Not all of them,” he responded dryly.

“It still wasn’t our call to make!” Bucky yelled his temper boiling and slammed his fist against the bars. The vibranium against vibranium echoed hollowly throughout the empty space, the blow not even knocking the rust off.

“They made the call if I hadn’t followed you would be dead. We’d both be dead,” the Soldier hadn’t flinched, his voice never wavered and he didn’t show any sort of surprise at Bucky’s outburst. Bucky was the emotional one, the Soldier had to keep all that locked away. All the rebellion, all the anger, all the fear. He couldn’t feel any of that if he wanted to survive.

“It would have been better. We are not worth more than anyone else,” Bucky pressed.

The Soldier locked eyes with him and didn’t say anything. He simply stared into Bucky’s eyes as if trying to convey a greater message, but Bucky was feeling too outraged and self-righteous to care about anything his other half wanted to say.

Finally, the Soldier broke eye contact and actually had the audacity to heave out a sigh. Reaching into the pocket of his tac pants he pulled out a key and stuck it in the slot.

“If you didn’t want to live, you shouldn’t have begged to be saved,” the Soldier said before turning the lock and letting the cell fall away.

~*~

Bucky opened his eyes with a gasp and a pounding migraine. He last remembered the Soldier sitting next to Layne on the couch as she fiddled with her music, it was a situation that was so intimate that it had immediately put Bucky on edge. But now, he was laying on his back on the floor, the plush carpet cushioning his head, and his hair stuck in his mouth.

“James? Are you okay?” Layne’s voice, laced with worry, floated to him and he felt her kneel down beside him and carefully swipe her fingers over his cheeks to pull the hair from his lips.

He flicked his gaze to her and sighed softly in relief, there were dark and heavy bags under her eyes and her face was crumpled in concern, but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. He reached up with a shaking hand and caught hers, lacing their fingers together and pressing her skin against his face so he could inhale the soft vanilla and blackberry spray she always spritzed on the inside of her wrists. She was real, this was real.

“Bucky?” she asked nervously, afraid to believe that her boyfriend was finally cognizant.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grumbled, his whole body was heavy and he suddenly felt very tired. He hadn’t technically slept since the mission, constantly fighting against the mental barriers that Shuri had constructed to keep the Soldier in that were now keeping him a prisoner in his own mind. He took another deep breath of her and closed his eyes for a moment.

It came upon him suddenly, the image of a what he could only assume was a Hydra safe house, nestled deep in a clearing of trees that were bigger than any he had ever seen. The boughs of branches were bent and straining under heavy, wet snow. Somehow he knew that if he were to go into the back left bedroom and rip up the sixth-floor board from the west window there would be a go bag filled with weapons and false documents.

He opened his eyes quickly only to be met with not only Layne’s anxious face but also Steve’s and Bruce’s.

“We should call Helen,” Bruce was saying.

“So you just eliminated Shuri’s safeguards without talking to her?” Steve ignored Bruce to go straight to accusing Layne.

Bucky frowned, not liking how his best friend was speaking to his best girl. From the tense atmosphere that crackled between Steve and Layne, he could only assume things between the two have been rocky for quite a bit. He tried to sit up, but his head swam and he immediately had to catch himself on his elbows.

“No. Bucky’s mind kicked me out the minute the Soldier and him and connected,” Layne said, looking at the blond crossly as she hurried to catch Bucky before he collapsed again.

“Dr. Cho really has more advanced knowledge of neuroscience than I do,” Bruce continued.

“Are you sure he’s back to himself? Because if he is I can call the princess in to fix what you wrecked,” Steve asked, already reaching for his phone.

“She unintentionally caused enough problems in his head. If the barriers are down he did it himself,” Layne argued, a red flush rising high on the apples of her cheeks - the first sign that her patience was gone and her temper was the next thing she was about to lose.

“Can we stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Bucky grumbled, raising his vibranium hand to his forehead and sitting himself up.

“Well, you did black out for about five minutes,” Layne lamented nervously and set her hand on Bucky’s shoulder to help hold him up.

“No, it was only a second,” Bucky argued, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

Steve leaned down and knelt down into Bucky’s field of vision and another zing of pain shot through Bucky’s temples followed by a memory. The Soldier stood in front of the abandoned and burned out facility in Azzano. Something about this area called to him, it stirred something in memories that weren’t his. A tuft of blond hair and warm sea-glass eyes. He stomped into the facility and stopped in front of a ramshackle cell, the cold stone floor cracked and scarred. The Soldier dug his metal fingers into a crack in the cement a pulled, ripping a two-foot hunk of ground away from the earth. Within fifteen minutes he had buried a hidden stash of weapons and documents and a cracked leather bound journal before filling in the hole and covering it with the cement again.

“Bucky?” Steve was calling his name, worry creasing his features. Bucky gave himself a mental shake and tried to push away from the people surrounding him in an attempt to give himself space to breathe.

“I’m fine. It’s all just, coming back at once,” Bucky groaned, scrubbing his hands over his eyes and digging his palms hard into his sockets.

“Your memories are combining,” Layne realized.

Layne shooed at Steve and Bruce, ushering them to move back and give her and Bucky room. Bruce stepped back immediately, his curiosity higher than his concern for Bucky. Bruce knew that Layne was more than capable and this was definitely out of his field of expertise. Steve, on the other hand, moved back much more reluctantly. Layne, still on her knees, situated herself between Bucky’s. She reached forward and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrists, pulling them from his face.

Bucky looked up at Layne, his eyes squinted against the dull light of the room that was too harsh for his migraine. “Can you try the thing?” he begged and Layne nodded furiously.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Layne reassured as her caramel eyes shifted and flared amber with energy. Taking a deep breath she crossed her first two fingers and jabbed him firmly in the middle of the forehead like her brother had shown her. With an exhale she pushed his head back, a ripple of energy shot out from her causing Steve and Bruce to stumble half a step back, but Bucky was asleep before he hit the carpet.

Layne gasped a few times, feeling like she had sprinted five miles with Steve, a cold sweat broke out across her skin and she slicked her hair from her damp forehead before looking up at the men.

“You wanna lug him to bed for me?” Layne asked Steve weakly who was just staring at her incredulously.

“Should I still call Helen?” Bruce asked after a moment of Steve and Layne simply staring each other down.

Steve’s lips were pursed and his shoulders were tenser than Layne had ever seen them. There was a little vein in his forehead that was pulsing slightly that had her slightly concerned, but he after a second longer he simply scooped Bucky up and stomped off in the direction of the bedrooms. Layne sunk back against the couches and swallowed a lump that seemed to be stuck in her throat.

She looked up at Bruce who was still standing there unsure of what to do.

“Yeah, can you get Dr. Cho to the tower, please? And we should probably call the princess just to assuage Steve.”

#winter soldier x layne hardin #bucky barnes x layne hardin #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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the-static-and-i · 5 years

Note

⏳ :)

// SO THIS IS A FUCKING LONG ONE, AND UM, OOF AT THE ENDING?? BUT IM P HAPPY WITH HOW THE REST OF IT CAME OUT, SO HERE THE FUCK WE ARE???

ITS ALSO A CLOAK BOI, CAUSE IM A FUCKING SLUT FOR THAT SHIT RN, AND ITS KIND OF A CONTINUATION OF THE LAST REQUEST FIC? THIS TIME ITS ~EVERYONE~ GETTING FUCKED ON.

TW: Prison-esque cells, chains, collars, bomb mention, anxiety, anxiety inducing text, drowning, shattered glass, glass shards, cuts, electrocution, character death. Please let me know if i missed anything, this is a big one.

They had been trapped for four days. No word from Sam or Marvin or Anti or even the cult assholes. Jackie had been fruitlessly trying to hack to each of their accounts, hoping for a clue or a location, some physical place he could go and get Marvin and everyone out of.

Finally, as he set his bags onto the bed of their new hotel room, he got five notifications from the server all at once. He glanced at it, assuming it was just casual conversation with weird timing, but saw each one of them was from Two. The preview of every message read "Tick tock. :)...", and Jackie fumbled to unlock his phone, pulling up the server and the first chat he saw, Phaedo. Everyone active was responding negatively at the code underneath the message, but he saw Chance and Alex mentioning getting onto solving it.

Nic rested his hand on Jackie's arm, hugging him from behind. Jackie relaxed a little, leaning back into the hold and turning off his phone, hoping that someone would get the code quick.

He got his wish; by the time he woke up the next morning, all groups had solved the code and JJ had dm'ed him.

"They're taunting you. You know it's probably a trap, right?"

He pulled up the code, seeing a link that led to a picture of Marvin chained up, the caption reading "Better hurry, hero. Your brother's waiting." With some coordinates attached. He sighed, looking over at Nic who had been working on the code late last night while Jackie had been trying to get information on the cult members. He was curling closer to Jackie's side, still asleep.

He sighed quietly, plugging the coordinates into his map app, seeing that they led scarily close to their current hotel. Anxiety chewed at his nerves, but he ignored it as best he could, finally typing a quick message back to JJ, "I know, but we dont have a choice. I'll be careful."

He turned over, wrapping an arm around Nic and hugging him close for a moment, long enough that he slowly starting waking up, before laying a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Nic was giving him a sleepy smile when he pulled away, and he uttered a soft "Hey."

"Hey. That code last night? Leads to more coordinates. They're nearby, so I'm gonna head out. You should try to stay out of the hotel, just in case it's not a coincidence that they're so close."

Nic yawned and nodded, working his way up but pausing to stretch. Jackie followed suit, pulling the sheets up lazily and moving to find his bag and costume.

10 minutes later, they were both outside, Nic heading towards the local mall, Jackie speed-walking over to the destination from the code. There was nothing on the map in the location, but the cultists had confirmed that they had gotten the answer, so he didnt hesitate more in getting going.

It turns out the map was wrong, he realized as he reached the destination. There was a small, beat up shack, the remnants of a burned house or some small fort, on the property. He heaved a sigh, watching his steps closely as he moved toward the building, texting updates to the group chat.

He stepped onto the foundation, breathing a small sigh of relief that nothing had jumped out and attacked him in the 6 yard gap between sidewalk and cement.

He glanced down at the group chat, seeing Two piping in with a simple "tick tock," repeating themself but setting Jackie's nerves on fire. He buried his anger and confusion at how they got into the locked chat, telling them to fuck off and then saying hed be back soon.

He stayed quiet as he looked around again, turning off his phone and slipping it into his pocket as he passed the blackened remains of a doorframe.

In the corner of the next room was a cellar door, metal and grey, with a rusty padlock keeping chains around the handles. He ripped off the chains easily, pulling the doors open and eyeing the steps warily.

This was so a trap. He sighed again, grabbing one door and pulling it off of the hinges so he had less chance of getting trapped in whatever hell was waiting for him, before finally descending.

His vision didnt change the farther down he went, but he could feel the dull throbbing in his temples that meant his night vision had kicked in.

All around him were cells, empty ones that didnt even have food trays or windows, and definitely no bed. His ears perked as he heard shuffling in one of them farther ahead, looking into it and seeing- "Marvin?"

Jackie was quick to pull open the door, his brother looking up at him with weary eyes, but a small smile twitching up his lips.

"Knew you'd make it. Little help?" Marvin rattled the chains around his wrists, Jackie nodding and pulling them out of the walls, then getting to work on unlocking them from around his limbs.

"You look like shit, Marv." Jackie tried to sound playful, but he had been worried as fuck, and he wasnt totally convinced this wasnt a trap.

"Its this new diet I'm trying: not eating or sleeping for a few days? Maybe you should give it a shot." Jackie snorted, successfully pulling both sets of chains off of Marvin's limbs before noticing the big fucking collar.

"Jesus, 's this overkill or what?" He mumbled under his breath.

"Right, that's what I'm saying, it's not like I- ow- not like I punched him in the throat or anything." Jackie gave him a look. "I didnt! I elbowed his nose. Sam punched him in the throat!"

Jackie tensed up, glancing back through the bars but not seeing anybody. "Sam's here? Who else is?"

"She uh, she was? Anti came and dragged her out a bit before you got here, and she didn't look like she was in the best shape.. You're going after them, right?" The collar came off finally, Marvin grabbing it and setting it aside carelessly. He stood up as Jackie moved backwards, his knees protesting at the movement as blood flooded back into them. He wobbled on his feet, leaning hard against Jackie as his numb feet struggled to support him. "Shit.."

When he was stable enough to stand on his own, Jackie finally responded. "Course I'm going after them, he cant hurt anybody else. Who else is here? Can you get them out?" His mind was racing, his eyes flicking between Marvin's dull ones.

"I.. can try? But my magic.." He tried to create a flame at his fingertips, instead getting small sparks that fizzled out. "Yeah, no. Do you even know where he took her?"

Jackie hesitated before shaking his head. "No. So I'll get everyone out, and then we have to find out how to get them home safe.." Jackie tried to ignore that that would be harder than he made it sound, stepping back into the hallway and onto the next cell.

Finally, all five people stood in the hallway, shaking and crying but unharmed. Marvin led them out, following Jackie's shouted directions, since he held the rear.

As they all climbed out, in an almost single-file orderly line, Jackie heard something. He turned his head, his foot still on the bottom step, only seeing the long hallway with an unnatural darkness at the end of it. His fight or flight kicked in, rocking forward on his toes as he turned back to Marvin, who was holding a hand out to him.

"Jackie dont, you dont know what's in there and we have to get these guys safe."

"I know, but-" tick tock. The sound reverberated off the walls, Jackie looked back and saw a shape forming in the darkness.

"Dont you fucking dare, Jackie come on!" Marvin called, but Jackie didnt look at him, instead stepping down and turning towards the hallway.

"Get them out of here, please. Stay safe," he heard Marvin groan in irritation, before he corralled the people together and led them away. Jackie waited until their steps faded away before he moved down the hall, glancing into every cell as he passed. tick tock.

He stopped and listened as the sound came again, hoping to locate its source but no dice. The echoes had faded when he finally moved again, his pace even slower than before, in case the ticking was a bomb or something similar.

ticktock. He flinched, his head ducking to his left as he swore the sound was right in his ear, nothing more than a quick whisper that had his skin crawling. He looked around hastily, ensuring he wasnt about to be jumped, before he picked up his pace again, realizing that the noises were coming from Anti or similar, not anything that would explode.

He glanced into the next set of cells, tick tock tick. It came from in front of him, so he kept moving. Ticktocktick. He started running, the shape at the end of the hallway solidifying the closer he got. ticktockticktock. The hallway seemed to drag on, he stopped checking the cells, nearly sprinting. tick tock tick tock.

He skidded to a stop as everything warbled around him, the cells fading to dirty plastered walls, ticktocktick, the end of the hallway rushing forward to meet him. He backed up, trying to outrun the stone wall, tick tock tick, but it stopped far before it reached him, blending seamlessly into the rest of the wall before he could blink. ticktock.

He looked around the new room in a rush, realizing the sound was slowing down and he had no idea where he was. tick tock. He walked over to where the stone wall had been, banging against it and hoping to find it hollow. It wasnt though, and he huffed an irritated worried sigh, turning and putting his back to the wall, tick. tock. as he reexamined his surroundings. There was no door, no window, no light source, no pillars, nothing. The walls were bare, the floor was wooden, the ceiling was low and empty.

tick. He heard a glitching sound, his eyes having to readjust to the sudden green light of Anti appearing. In front of the glitch was Sam, struggling desperately against the arm around her throat. tock.

Jackie ran and lunged forward, Anti's cackle echoing around the room as he glitched away. He was kicked from behind, a boot to the center of his back that had him stumbling over his own feet. He swiveled midair, landing on his ass and shielding his face against whatever blow might be coming.

There wasnt one. Instead, Anti stood in front of him, flicking open and closed a knife at his side. His leer was cruel, almost illuminating the rest of his face. Jackie didnt look away, pushing himself to his feet as he forced his heartrate down.

"No witty quips or clever catchphrase, hero?" Anti sneered, his body glitching out.

"Nah, you arent worth the effort. But if you want-"

"If I’m not-" tick, "maybe she is." He smiled, glitching Sam back into the room. She shook her head as she saw them both, quickly hugging herself and backing away. "Or maybe him?" tock, Nic glitched in, looking around the room confused. He glared at Anti as soon as he gained his bearings, reaching out for Jackie.

As his hand brushed the fabric of Jackie’s costume, he was thrown back across the room like he had been shocked. He sat up quickly, seeing Jackie was back against the opposite wall, like he had been shocked too. Nic rushed toward his side, hitting a glass wall after only a couple steps. He hit it hard, staggering back but not falling. He pressed his hands against the pane, turning to glance at his side and seeing Sam with her hands pressed against two glass walls of her own, one separating them.

“Sammy, you okay?” He asked, seeing the bags under her eyes and her shaking arms. She stared blankly out through the glass, giving only a small nod in response.

“You?” Her voice was quiet, hoarse, Nic couldnt tell if it was from screaming or not having water in a few days, but he figured he didnt want to know just yet.

“Uh, was good up until now. We’re gonna be oka-” As if on cue, the sound of rushing water cut him off quickly, and he muttered a soft curse. He looked forward again, seeing Jackie standing up again, with Anti between him and the glass cells.

“Tick tock, Jackaboy. Who’ll you save this time?” Anti glitched away, his voice still reverberating as he spoke again, “My money’s on neither.”

“Fuck you, asshole!” Nic shouted, banging on the glass once before stepping back from it. Anti laughed joyfully, either at Nic or at Jackie running full speed at the glass in front of him.

His body slammed into the wall in front of Nic, the box wobbling back and forth, the water at his feet sloshing around in tandem. He backed up, looking over at Sam and seeing her backed against the wall opposite Nic. She ran forward too, her impact rocking both of their boxes a little. She groaned softly and rubbed her shoulder, backing up again anyway.

“Sam dont, dont hurt yourself. I got this, Im getting you both out of here.” He ran forward again, hearing the glass crack as his arm hit the same spot again. The cage rocked back dangerously far, Nic calling out as he pushed himself forward to offset the weight. It worked, the cage stabilized, and Jackie was ready to run again. “Back up.”

Nic complied, and Jackie ran full speed at the cage, successfully breaking through the glass with his shoulder. He pushed himself through the big fucking hole, further shattering the glass until he could reach Nic.

Sam gasped next to them, but Jackie didnt divert his attention yet. “D-dads, if something happens, you two get out, i love you both, tell everyone im so-” her voice was rushed, but her own screams still cut her off.

Jackie looked over quickly, seeing wires laying in the water at her feet. The electricity off of them was visible, and Sam was fighting to not let her legs give out. Jackie cursed, hastily jumping back from Nic’s cage and readying himself to run again, Nic standing next to him. He didnt object, instead cueing Nic to run with him, the two of them rocking the box back. She yelped as the water climbed higher up her bare legs, but bit her lips and leaned forward against the rocking.

The two of them backed up again, barely waiting for the box to stabilize again before taking off. The glass cracked loudly, a small shatter going across the entire front of the pane. Water started spurting out from the cracks, but it kept climbing higher, soaking her shorts and tank top without going past her belly button yet. She cried out as the electricity increased, her body doubling over and accidentally splashing into the water.

Her voice doubled as Jackie and Nic backed up, Ren trying to take over and front so Sam didnt have to suffer any more. The box rocked back as the shatter got bigger, not breaking but getting close, so close, they were so close.

“We love you both, you can do this, we believe in y-” The electricity increased again, and Ren gasped, feeling her heart beat shudder and fuck up, her breath catching in her throat. She couldnt even cough, the water rising up to her throat making her larynx twitch and close up.

The men, her dad, her dads that she rarely talked to, slammed into the glass, but it bounced them off of it instead of breaking. She heard Anti’s laugh, his cruel, sadistic, grating laugh, before the water rose again, covering her ears and eyes and soon her whole head. She couldnt move, her body was so stiff, she had to swim, had to fucking move, come on, please, but she couldnt force her muscles to tense or relax.

On the other side of the glass, she saw the shapes of Jackie and Nic, still throwing themselves at the glass, she tried so desperately hold her breath, to hold out, to keep herself alive so Sam could hug them both again. The electricity, Anti, was so against her determination though, increasing until she could actually feel her heart struggle to keep pumping as all of her muscles froze up.

She screamed out, seeing the shadows on the other side coming closer again, fucking hoping that this was the one. Her vision went dark all at once, but she didnt hear the glass break. She tried to open her eyes, tried to look out at her family, tried so hard to call out to them, but her body wasnt responding, barely even twitching as the electricity increased more. She didnt even feel it happen; she was gone.

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padfootagain · 7 years

Text

Jackets

I'm answering the request made by @hellojawsie for an imagine where Poe explains the story of his mother's ring to the reader and... a bit more...

However, I had an idea to bring the topic on the table, that came to me when I saw that gif, and I just couldn't resist :)

Warning for violence, death and mentions of torture

Hope you all like it

Gif not mine

Word Count : 3486

You crawled down the narrow space between two walls. It was dark, too dark for your eyes to distinguish any shape. Your hands were all you had to try to guide yourself through this little passage.

You didn't even know what this passage was for actually, but you were glad it existed. Without it, you would have never been able to reach such a deep place into the First Order ship without being caught.

You had to find the cells. BB-8 had assured you that you should reach the right corridor if you followed this passage. You guessed it was some kind of pipe...

Your comlink suddenly emitted a little beep, and you picked it up before whispering against the device.

"How close am I, BeeBee?" you asked the droid.

BB-8 beeped quietly, telling you to find a grid that should soon appear on your right.

You kept on crawling for a few more meters before your fingers brushed against something that was suddenly not smooth.

"I think I've got it, BeeBee," you whispered, getting closer.

You let your hands run all long the squared form, and you indeed recognized a grid.

"Is Poe behind that grid?" you asked the droid.

But what was awaiting you beyond was a corridor, not the pilot's cell.

"Where's Poe's cell?" you asked the droid.

You winced at its answer : it couldn't know in which cell the pilot was imprisoned, you had to find it by yourself.

"Great..." you mumbled, starting to pull on the grid to create a passage.

You crawled out of the pipe, struggling to make your body fit in the narrow opening.

It led right under the ground of a corridor indeed, you could hear the soldiers walking, their steps echoing above your head.

You peered outside your hiding place, right between the wall and the pipe you had used to travel across the warship. Right above you were two stormtroopers on sentry, walking back and force through the corridor. No one else seemed to be there though. Even from where you were hiding, you could see the doors of the cells aligned on both walls, the black doors barely visible as the walls around them had the exact same colour. It seemed like all the walls and all the object were of that shade in there...

You were starting to be sick of the colour black...

You waited a few more seconds, but no one joined the two troopers in the corridor.

You rested your hand onto your blaster, your finger resting upon the trigger.

You counted in your head before jumping out of this little corner you were hiding in.

Three...

You calculated how many seconds separated the troppers.

...Two...

If you waited for one of them to turn his back on you, you would have about three seconds to shoot both of them.

... One...

One of them turned around. You aimed at the one who was facing you.

..Zero.

You stood up, not waiting a second before pulling the trigger, a ray of red light coming out of your blaster instantly and hitting the stormtrooper in the chest a second later. You didn't wait for his body to hit the ground to aim at the other soldier. You bent down to avoid a blast, before firing yourself.

The stromtrooper fell down to the ground as well, blood flooding out of his white armour.

You stood up quickly, your blaster at the ready, but you were the only one alive in the corridor.

"I'm in, Beebee," you whispered in the comlink again, keeping your blaster in your hand. "Is there a way to find the right cell?"

But you didn't need to wait for the droid's answer, as you quickly spotted a door that seemed greyish instead of black.

You walked towards this door, opening it slowly, but there was no one inside. Inside were gathered the personal belongings of the prisoners, all set in little boxes. There were no names, but the number associated to each cell was clearly visible.

You just had to spot Poe's box.

You started to open all of them, searching through all the metallic boxes to find any object that could belong to the pilot. You knew you would recognize them in an instant. After all... Poe and you were... very close...

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes fell upon a shining ring. You could have recognized it anywhere...

Poe always wore it around his neck. You didn't know where it came from though, but you knew he was attached to it.

You picked up the piece of metal, putting it safely into the pocket of your white shirt, safely against your heart. You also took Poe's leather jacket and put it on. You took a second to deeply breathe in the scent the fabric had captured : a perfect balance between musk, leather, oil and sugar... it smelled like Poe... Your mind drifted back through the memories you shared with him, to that night you had spent together sitting on the wing of his X-Wing, watching the stars, right before he would leave for this mission that had led him to be taken prisoner by the First Order...

Your chest tightened at the thought of what your enemies could have done to him. Was he hurt? Could he walk? Was he even... alive?

You pushed those thoughts away. You didn't need them, you needed to keep hope that you were not too late. After all, Poe had been taken prisoner less than two days before, there was still a chance for him to be alive.

You picked up his blaster, his helmet and hurried outside the room, memorizing the number carved into the front of the box.

C-3...

You walked down the corridor in search of the right cell. Your heart was beating a bit faster at every step you took, knowing that you were getting closer to him, but terrified at the idea that you could be too late.

You read the numbers written at the top right corner of each door, in a red paint upon the dark surface.

A-5, A-7, A-9, B-1, B-3...

You hurried down the hall, certain that your heart would never hold on long enough before exploding under all this stress and fear, and your thoughts drifted away to form prayers.

...B-9, C-1...

You froze before the next door on your right.

...C-3.

You didn't have the code, nor a key, but you didn't even ask yourself the question. You shot the little command control, and the door automatically opened.

Your heart stopped. The little thing that was beating rhythmically in your chest suddenly froze, coming to a stop. You were not sure if it would start beating ever again.

A million feelings rushed through your body...

...Fear...

...Anger...

...Worry...

...Fury...

...Terror...

...Pain...

All those feelings and much more caused adrenaline to run though your veins, so much that you found yourself unable to move, your muscles paralyzed.

Poe was in there. In the dark. Cowering in a corner of the little room. Lying on the ground. His back to you. His breathing was loud and irregular, you could hear the hoarse sound from where you stood. He didn't make a single movement as the door opened. Perhaps he was asleep, or unconscious. You could hear him breathing, for sure he was not dead...

You walked into the room, at last, your muscles finally responding to the commands sent by your brain.

You knelt down next to him.

"Poe?" you called softly.

He didn't respond, so you slowly turned him onto his back.

A tear rolled down your cheek at the sight.

A deep cut across his cheek, blood running down the side of his face and starting from his forehead, a trail of dry blood staining his chin and cheek caused by a broken nose that had turned purple by now, a swollen eye... and all those signs were only those that you could see now.

You had no doubt left. He had been tortured.

"Poe," you shook him gently. "Poe, wake up."

His closed eyelids suddenly fluttered, before opening. He stared at you with unfocused, bloodshot eyes. A small smile appeared on his lips.

"I'm dead, right?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and lower than usual.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you shook your head.

"No, love. You're still with us," you breathed, running a soothing hand through his hair.

His smile widened.

"I thought I could only see you again in the afterworld now, if there is one."

"I'm here. I've come to save this reckless arse of yours," you replied, trying to admonish him, but your tears were betraying you.

"Y/N..."

But your comlink emitted strange beeps again, and when you listened to BB-8, the droid was urging you to come back to the ship.

"I'm coming Beebee, I found him."

"BB-8 is here too?" he asked.

You nodded.

"With Finn, they're making sure we can get out. We need to move, Poe."

He nodded, struggling to sit up. You helped him, accompanying him in his movements.

"Can you walk? Where are you hurt?" you asked him, your voice full of concern as he leaned against the wall and used you as a support to stand.

"I can walk, if you give me a hand," he answered, his breathing stumbling with pain.

"Where are you hurt?"

"Honestly... a bit everywhere," he answered darkly. "I have a couple of broken ribs that's for sure, probably my left wrist too."

You took your blaster, wondering if Poe would be able to move through this narrow passage you had used to come here.

"Do you think that you can crawl?" you asked him softly.

He nodded.

"Sure, I can," he replied, his voice confident.

You guided him towards the passage you had used and helped him to get inside.

"Y/N, you need to hurry," you heard Finn's voice blurting out of the comlink. "They're closing on us."

"We're coming, Finn, hold them back."

You heard him mumbling, but didn't pay much attention to him. You could see that Poe was moving as fast as he could. You just hoped it would be enough.

"You shouldn't have come here," you heard him whispering, afraid that any soldier could hear him.

"Don't start, Poe."

"You're taking crazy risks..."

"I said, don't start."

Silence surrounded you again, only broken by Poe's heavy breathing and soft, painful moans that escaped his lips from time to time.

You finally reached the end of the passage...

"Above your head, Poe," you indicated, and he pushed the grid to reveal the passage to your ship.

A hand appeared through the hole, and Finn helped Poe to climb up to reach the level of the ground again.

"It's so good to see you, Poe," he grinned, patting Poe's shoulder as he helped him into the ship.

"It's good to see you too," Poe gave his friend an exhausted smile.

BB-8 came rushing towards Poe as Finn was carrying him inside the little cargo ship you had borrowed to the Resistance.

"I'm happy to see you too, buddy," Poe smiled at the excited droid. "Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine."

"We need to go now!" you urged your friends as you saw some troopers heading your way, running through the hangar.

You helped Finn settling Poe down in a seat, fastening the belt for him.

"Y/N... I have to tell you, in case we don't make it..." he whispered, holding your hand to keep you close to him when you started to walk away to reach the cockpit and help Finn to flee.

"We're going to make it," you interrupted him stubbornly.

"I need to tell you..."

"You'll tell me on D'Qar."

But you suddenly noticed his falling eyelids...

"Hey, Poe!" you held his head between your hands to force him to look up at you. "You stay with me. We're going to take you out of here."

"Y/N... I need to tell you..."

The ground shook under your feet, the metal of the ship trembling as BB-8 started the engines.

"Y/N! What are you doing?! We need a pilot! I can shoot them, but you need to fly this thing!" Finn shouted across the ship.

"I love you with all my heart," Poe whispered, blinking, his head falling backwards to rest on his seat.

"Poe, stay with me!" you urged him, tears flowing down your cheeks again.

"Y/N, I'll always love you..."

"Y/N! They're coming!"

"I love you..."

Poe's eyelids slowly closed while Finn's voice echoed throughout the starship one more time.

"I will always love you," Poe whispered, out of breath, struggling to get the words to pass his lips.

"POE!"

But his eyelids closed as the sound of impacts from blasters' shots shook the cargo ship...

And before all went dark, the last thing Poe saw was your eyes wet with tears.

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

When he woke up on D'Qar he couldn't believe it was real. Poe was certain to have died there, on that ship. He would have been more or less at peace with that. He had told you how he felt for you, and it would have been enough. Although, he now felt like it was everything but enough. He felt like he was given a second chance, and he didn't intend to miss it.

But when his hand rose to search for the necklace that never left him, his fingers closed upon nothing but a piece of fabric and void...

He had asked the nurses and doctors if they had retrieved the pendant while they were patching him up, but they had all the same answer : he had nothing around his neck when he arrived on D'Qar.

The events on the First Order ship were too blurred by pain for him to be sure that the ring had been taken away from him or if he had lost it when he had fought to free himself. He couldn't remember...

Which meant that he would never have the chance to accomplish what he had longed to do for a while now. Since he was certain that you were the one...

"Hey, flyboy."

He jumped at the sound of your voice, a smile spreading across his face nonetheless.

"Hey, flygirl," he teased with a smirk.

"How are you?" you asked softly, sitting on the bed next to him.

"The doctors won't let me walk out of here before my ribs and my wrist are back to normal," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours as you rested your hand upon his undamaged one.

"That's not very surprising."

But he suddenly frown.

"That's my jacket!" he suddenly noticed the piece of clothing you were wearing.

"It is," you nodded. "Saved it when I went looking for you. Do you like it on me?"

"It does look sexy," he smirked.

"Not as sexy as it is on you," you giggled.

"I could argue against that."

You both laughed, before silence would settle around the two of you. A tender, peaceful silence that could only exist between two people who were in love despite a war raging around them.

"Thank you," he smiled. "For saving my reckless arse."

"You're welcome," you smiled back at him. "You did give me quite a fright though."

"Wouldn't want my girl to get bored with our relationship."

You laughed.

"Next time, don't feel obliged!"

"Really?"

"Really!"

"That's such a shame..."

"Why? Were having fun up there in the middle of all those bad guys?"

Your tone was softer, less humorous all of a sudden, and he immediately noticed it, his smile fading as well.

"Not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?" you proposed kindly, but he shook his head.

"Not for now. For now I just want to enjoy the fact that we're both alive."

You exchanged another smile, although you could see that something saddened him. Perhaps it was the trauma brought by whatever he had been through on that ship. Perhaps his mind was still in that cell...

You reached for the pocket of your shirt, a proud grin on your face.

"I saved something else on that ship, that belongs to you," you told him, and he narrowed his eyes in curiosity.

You handed him his necklace, and his eyes grew wide in surprise at the sight, his brown eyes sparkling with joy.

"Where did you find it?" he asked you, taking the ring in his hand.

"With your jacket."

"Thank you so much, Y/N... you can't imagine..."

"...How much it means to you, I know," you chuckled.

But then he gave you a very strange look. You had never seen such a look before. He was intensely staring at you, apparently lost in thought, and yet studying your features carefully. You frowned hard.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

He looked down at the ring in his hand.

"I've never told you where that ring comes from," he said slowly.

"No, you've never told me," you shook your head, frowning even more.

He struggled to swallow, his brown eyes still set upon the golden ring in his hand.

"When I was a child, on Yavin IV... my mother and I were very close," he spoke softly, struggling to convince the words to pass his lips, but forcing them out anyway, his need to let you know too great after what had happened these past few days. "She's the one who taught me how to fly, you know? She... she was so kind and so brave... You know she fought for the Rebellion, right?"

You nodded, knowing about Shara Bey's role in the Rebellion.

"She was a hero," he whispered. "I... I really hope that... one day... I can make her proud."

You chased the tears away from your eyes, drying your cheeks on the back of your hand.

"I'm sure that she's proud, Poe."

A sad smile formed on his lips, but he was still staring at the necklace.

"She died when I was eight," he went on, and you could hear his voice tightening as it became hoarse with withheld tears. "And... you see... she gave me her wedding ring before she died. My parents were so in love and... I promised that one day I... I... would... give her ring to the person I would long to spend... my entire life with."

Finally he looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with tears that somehow couldn't fall, while your cheeks were now covered with salty droplets.

"It's the only thing of her I have left," he said softly. "I have a few pictures and holograms too, but... it's the last object I have that belonged to her."

You nodded, sniffing, trying to clear your throat and speak.

"I guess it was a good thing that I was lucky enough to find it then," you smiled.

He nodded, smiling as well.

"Yeah... because you see... I wanted to use it."

You frowned, but Poe ignored you, a bright smile on his lips now, and he handed you back the ring.

"I love you, Y/N," he softly breathed, and your eyes grew wide as the realization struck you. "I'll always love you. And... we don't live in the best world that could be, and perhaps the odds are playing against us, and perhaps you and I might not have so many years left to live. But I don't care. As long as I can live them with you, I'll take all the time that is left for me without complaining. As long as I can face them with you, I'll make sure to fight all those that make the Galaxy such an unfair place to live in, no matter the odds. I know that, no matter what may happen, as long as you're with me, then I'll consider my life fulfilled, and when I go, I shall bear no regrets with me. But this can only happen if I can be yours, and if you can be mine. So... would you like to spend all your life with me too?"

You sobbed, your body shaking.

"You want to give me your mother's ring?" you asked in a shaking whisper, unable to believe it.

But Poe nodded with a tender smile.

"You're the one, Y/N. I know you are. You're the one I will love until my last breath. Marry me."

You laughed, tears still streaming down your face, before finally nodding and crumbling in Poe's arms.

"I love you, flyboy."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes!" you laughed nervously again. "I want to marry you, Poe Dameron."

He grinned, kissing you passionately, and slipping his mother's ring around your finger.

"I love you too, flygirl... and also... considering how sexy this jacket looks on you, perhaps you should wear it more often, if you don't mind..."

****************

Tag list : @that-bwitch, @wearetalkingtoyou, @riacollins.

#poe dameron #poe #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe imagine #poe fanfic #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #writing

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