Tumgik
#mentions of torture
Note
How differently do you think Tobias would act in the later books if the events of #33 had never happened? a few of the others mention that tobias seems different after his torture and it's definitely clear that it impacted him more than he can acknowledge, but I'm curious as to your take on how much it changed his behavior
It's honestly hard to say, if only because so many of the books #34 - #52 are ghost-written and therefore suffer from inconsistencies in places. For me the biggest moment of "whoa, something changed" is the opening of #41 where Jake notes that Tobias just takes off after the battle is over, and that a few months ago it would've been unlike him not to check on Rachel or Ax.
For me, that helps to explain Tobias’s relative lack of engagement with Rachel in #42 and #48. Even though she narrates both books, they're more focused on her relationships with Cassie and Marco and Jake, while Tobias is kind of just there. #48 especially barely mentions him, which is a glaring contrast to all the other books (#22, #7, etc) where Rachel puts him as the most important person in her life. It could be that he has trouble connecting with the others, and isn't able to maintain that relationship as well as he'd like.
The other place where Tobias’s lack of reaction has always stood out to me is #40. Ax says people who choose to be nothlits are "cowards", Cassie hastens to add that she doesn't think Gafinilan would do such a thing, and Tobias is just... there. He doesn't say anything in response. Same goes for the scene where Ax and Jake and Gafinilan talk about stigma against people who can't morph. My cynical Doylist suspicion is that the ghost writers forgot about him, but the Watsonian explanation could be that he's really checked out as a result of being traumatized and doesn't have the spoons to engage.
So: to circle back, I think Tobias would probably be more tuned in to his relationships with his girlfriend and his shorm, and better able to support them, if he hadn't experienced #33.
59 notes · View notes
coyotehusk · 7 months
Text
Pressure
1,370 words | CW: Strangulation, Mentions of Torture
Tumblr media
Mica was not the type of man to be fueled by sexual desire. His work kept him busy. Stuck forever in a cycle of slaughtering hogs and men. Wake. Eat. Kill. Sleep. It was all he knew. A routine he had practiced since his youth. He was not immune from the occasional burn of intimate musings, but they were easily snuffed out by his own hand.
Over the years, he found that any relationship that wasn't transactional had little to no appeal. Watching the Delaney boys bicker with their wives was exhausting. It often reminded him of his own mother and father—stuck in a loveless marriage.  
But as he straddled Ryker, rope tightly strung around his neck, he felt a hungry spark of desire light up in his brain. 
It had been almost two weeks since the youngest Delaney had arrived. At this point, it was clear that the missus wasn’t really looking for information. Instead, she often watched on with a hint of amusement as the men kicked Ryker around. Sometimes stubbing her cigarette out on his legs or arms. She’d already marked his back with the signature three dots within the first week. 
Ryker had been particularly defiant on that day—spitting at her boots and laughing every time he got hit. At some point, he managed to slip out of the ropes (poorly tied by an intoxicated Cyrus the previous evening), and bolted. Cyrus started after him, but Mrs. Delaney grabbed him by the collar.  
“He won’t get far. Mica, bring him back.”
She was right. Ryker hobbled helplessly towards the first fence, tripping over his own legs like a newborn fawn. Screaming as if the neighbors didn't live over ten miles away. Mica caught him in just a few strides. Grabbing him by the ankles, he dragged the defenseless man back towards the barn. He kicked and screamed the whole time—desperately digging his fingers into the dirt. 
There was no slipping from the Delaney’s hold. Mica had learned that the hard way early on. He’d taken his beating with the tail end of a whip. Left to bake in the sun for a day and night before he was pardoned for his crime. The fact that Ryker and Rhett managed to slip away from the ranch all those years ago was an anomaly. Luck, if one believed in that kinda thing. Though it appeared that luck had an expiration date. 
“Hogtie him,” Mrs. Delaney said, handing Mica a coil of rope. “Feel free to rough him up a little more while you're at it.” She finished off her cigarette, flicking it towards Ryker. It nearly hit his face, bouncing off the dirt next to his ear. She looked almost bored as she walked away, Cyrus in tow.
Mica peered down at Ryker. It wasn’t the first time he’d tied him up, and it wouldn’t be the last. But Ryker liked to make it a chore. Squirming and biting. Kicking his legs and throwing fists. Sometimes Mica would take the hits, letting Ryker wear himself out before finally tying him up to a chair or to the gates of the horse pens. As predicted, he started to squirm as soon as Mica knelt next to him—digging his filthy nails into Mica’s forearms.
“Please, Mica! I-I don’t know anything! I swear. You have to believe me. J-Just let me—I won’t tell anyone! Please! I can’t stay out here another night–”
It was unlike Ryker to beg. Cry, sure. But beg? Mica knocked his hands away. Trying to grab for his wrists, but the guy was surprisingly slippery.
“Mica, please! You know me–” Suddenly, he felt a yank on the rope, quickly followed by a strike to the jaw. Mica blinked, stunned for a second.
While most assumed the butcher was not capable of feeling emotion, he was often challenged with the sharp edge of annoyance. Sometimes even a little rage. He felt both then—straddling Ryker and putting his full weight on the smaller man. It was easy to pry the rope from those trembling fingers before looping it around his neck and tightly pulling the two ends in opposite directions. Ryker’s hands immediately flew up. Scratching wildly at his skin as he tried to get purchase of the rope.
The spark happened then. Like a bolt of electricity crawling down Mica’s spine. He let up for just a moment. Easing the tension around Ryker’s thin neck. Ryker spluttered and coughed. “Mica! Wait-” he wheezed. Mica pulled again. Tighter this time. Watching the rope dig into the skin.
Pretty.
It was an odd thought. A concept he knew only by word and not in practice. But as he slowly tightened his hold, he found that he did find Ryker’s eyes pretty—the teal stark against the dark bruising from the previous day’s beatings. He liked the slope of his nose and how his lips parted. Desperately trying to pull in air. 
Ryker grit his teeth. He kicked and thrashed. Face turning bright red before starting to purple. Mica held until Ryker’s hits grew weak and his eyes rolled back. Heels barely pushing into the dirt. When he finally released, the rope slid free of his hands—a heat flooding his ears at the sound of Ryker’s starved inhale for oxygen.
It followed Mica for the next few days. That desperate moan. The soft whimpers laced between coughs. Ryker’s face wet with tears as he begged. 
Oh, how he fucking begged. 
Mica could picture himself wrapping his bulky hands around Ryker’s throat—pressing his thumbs against his Adam’s apple. How far would he push him? Just to the brink? Flirting with the edge of death? 
No.  
It would be too easy to crush the life out of him. Mica liked how Ryker hopelessly clawed. How he wiggled between his thighs. He wanted to hear that gasp over and over again. See the tears filling his eyes. Kicking and biting. He’d have to be careful not to overdo it. Just enough pressure to scare him. To keep him writhing with life.   
It wasn’t long before the fantasy started to evolve. He could hook him up for a bit. Poke and prod at him with one of the cattle rods—the electrical current making his body twist and tense. See just how many times he could handle the current dancing through his muscles. Back arching and legs kicking.
Maybe he could even mark him. Leave his brand scorched into his flesh. Or perhaps even use one of his knives to carve something small and delicate. Hidden away. A secret for just the two of them. 
What other things could coax a sound like that from him?  
Mica peered out his bedroom window. The barn looked ominous against the night sky. Shrouded in darkness—except for the sporadic flash of yellow coming from an overhead lamp. The light spilled just slightly into the interior. If Mica squinted, he could just barely make out the soles of Ryker’s feet lying in the dirt.
He found himself walking down the narrow corridor of the house, softly passing Mrs. Delaney’s room and down the staircase. His boots were still sitting outside on the back porch—mucked from the rainstorm early that morning. 
Mica stepped into the barn, peering down at the curled body. They left him uncovered; shirtless and arms pinioned with fresh blue twine. Somebody had torn off his bandages. The stitching on what was left of his pinky were partially ripped out. Frankly, his whole hand looked mangled. As if someone had stomped on it a few times. Ryker’s eyes fluttered. He let out a wheezy chuckle. 
“Yer a sight for sore eyes.”
Mica found himself hesitating for a moment. Watching Ryker relax further into the muck. They had really laid into him. Cheek and jaw dark and swollen. Welts across his chest and arms. He almost looked defeated. Eyes closed. Shivering. He coughed before trying to curl tighter into himself. 
“I really don’t know where Rhett is. Haven’t for a long time.” He let out another raspy breath. “What does it matter anyway? The money is gone. The guns. Everything–” Ryker kept muttering. His voice growing softer and more slurred. It wasn’t long until his breathing slowed. Rattling but steady.  
Mica felt his mouth go dry. Impulse had driven him here. That hot, needy burn. Had he intended to do something with Ryker? Act out on the dark thoughts swimming in his head?
And for the first time in a long time, Mica felt fear.
Tumblr media
┬┴┬┴┤(・_├┬┴┬┴| writing tag: @demondamage @burntcoffeewhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @yet-another-heathen
67 notes · View notes
wanderingmirror · 3 months
Text
It happened all of a sudden.
Where millions of GAR troops were at different points of the galaxy, they were suddenly in a grey void like space.
Their faces pitch black except for scars or differences in appearance. Eyes pure white and armor their original phase one set and color. From the oldest to the youngest still alive they all stood there. It was strangely silent despite them all talking at once.
What was even more strange was the black crack splitting the ground and separating them from what looked like the Guard.
Similar to them, they had pitch black faces, and the differences shown in white with their eyes. Despite how many GAR troops there were, everyone could see as if they were standing in front. Almost like a Holo live recording on a Helmet comm.
The GAR was horrified to see scars or missing limbs marking their brothers on the other side of the crack.
It looked like one of the shiny Guards was holding on desperately to a batcher's hand, but the batcher just began to walk towards them. Pulling until the shiny Guard was forced to let go.
The shiny's eyes filled with red tears, the same as the color marking them. They cradled their hand to their chest and the tears spilled over. One of the other guardsmen stepped out of the flood of red and white. Pulling the shiny's attention to them, they lifted their arms in silent comfort. The shiny rushed to the other and was embraced into a tight hug. Armor creaking as the older Guard smoothed their hand into the shiny's short regulation hair.
The other GAR shiny turned to look and froze, seeing how hurt the other was. They tried to reach out to the other. Suddenly, another Guardsman surged to the front and rammed a riot shield into the shiny. This trooper a shiny themselves. The GAR shiny fell to the ground and the other GAR members stepped forward.
The Riot Shiny flinched at so many other GAR soldiers approaching. And that caused a chain reaction in the rest of the Guard. More Riot Troopers rushed out in defense of their shiny member, slamming their shield on the ground. Lining up on either side of the first Riot trooper as a show of support and comradeship.
This caused the heavy artillery Guards to follow, guarding the edges of the shield formation. Suddenly the ground rumbled and high vantage points appeared, allowing the Guard Sniper units to take aim. The rare Guard Enhanced all took positions behind the Riot Troopers with their own weapons in hand. The Guards with normal blasters each took a shoulder behind a Riot Trooper and aimed their weapons.
The massiff units all pushed the medics and soft shells behind them, aiming their blasters at those they could safely aim at. Medics had their makeshift packs at the ready for any who might get injured on their side. And soft shells aimed pistols around the Massiff Units to do the same as them.
And suddenly, everything was quiet again.
The GAR didn't know how to react to their Guard brother's sudden defensive formation. Not one Guard shook or looked hesitant to fire.
It was like time froze, as the bigger side tried to figure out what to do. Until Cody stepped forward. The Marshall Commander stepped as close to the group in red as they allowed. Freezing when one of the troopers aiming over another's shoulder took aim at him. He raised his hand to signal a halt when his own men stepped forward to defend him.
From behind the line of Riot shields came the Guard's own Marshall Commander. The scars of sith lightning scattered across the left side of the oldest Guardsman's face had Cody flinching. The eye was no where to be seen either, meaning he was blind in that eye.
Fox crossed his arms in front of his chest, feet spread to parade rest length, and tilted his head. Not a word left the Guard Commander as he stood in front of the GAR Commander. No one spoke really. One side waiting for their Commander's orders, the other too in shock to speak.
The other Commanders of the GAR stepped forward. And soon after the other leaders in the Guard did the same. One Guard had blonde hair. One had a severely damaged jaw and throat. One had stitches lining their whole body old wounds healed over. One had a missing leg, the air in its place matching the void around them. One had over regulation hair. One had a scar along their head and over an absent right eye. And One with no hair, with a massive burn scar on the left side of his face.
The GAR only knew of Thorn, the one with long hair, Stone, the one with the burn, and Thire, the one with the missing right eye and scar on the same side. The other four where unknown. Until Rex stepped forward.
"Ritz?" He asked, and his voice was almost too loud in the eery quiet of the void. The blonde Guard officer, a Captain, crossed their arms in a silent show of defiance. The other six officers all stood on either side of Fox in a show of support. Not one looked ready to back down. Neither did the rest of the Guard despite their smaller size.
"Vod'ika. Why are you all doing this?" Cody finally asked the question the rest of the GAR had been thinking.
"You abandoned me and my men. So we're just doing what's necessary to defend what we have left. Who we have left. And I'm not your Vod'ika. The only Ori'vod'e I have is Chemi and Stitches. You aren't either of them." The Guard Commander snarled and the mentioned 'Ori'vod'e' both stepped forward on either side of Fox. Chemi was the one with the mangled jaw and throat, while Stitches was the one with a stitched up appearance.
The 212th and 501st CMOs rushed forward suddenly.
"JACOB!" "STITCHES!"
Helix shouted a different name than Kix, yet it was a name the 212th recognized almost immediately. Jacob had been the second in command of the 212th medical bay near the start of the war. But once General Skywalker was made a General, he was sent back to Kamino and was never seen again.
Stitches had been the new and first CMO of the 501st's name. And the man had been sent in once again to Kamino, he was also never again seen.
Only this time he wasn't reconditioned.
Said CMO of the Guard didn't even flinch when his name was shouted, though he was secretly confused by the first name. Both blue and gold CMOs froze when the Captain, Ritz, shot forward and shielded the red CMO. A snarl of a protective riduur marking his scratched up face.
The void rumbled again and Stitches had someone peeking out from behind him. This clone was inverted to the medic. Black eyes and stitches with a white appearance. A malicious smile was marking this clones face, but it wasn't towards the Guard. No it was towards the GAR. The Guard knew who this clone was. Freakshow. The Guard CMO's darker personality.
Helix hissed at the inverted clone and the other just giggled darkly.
"You bastard! I thought you finally left him alone!" Helix roared and the inverted clone's smile faded away.
"Because I was too Independent at the time, here I remain. I'm the one who's kept him alive ever since. With some help of course." Freakshow said as he patted Ritz on the shoulder from behind Stitches. The medic didn't seem bothered by the other presence.
With Freakshow's arrival, it heralded the coming of other similar inverted clones over many other Guard clone's shoulders. And even some GAR clone shoulders as well.
One of the Kamino bound clones looked heartbroken as he stood in front. "So he got reconditioned for nothing? He had hoped it would ease his suffering." All eyes framed by gold and red looked at the man and he flinched. Helix and Freakshow both looked at him and the clone stepped forward. "Joyce, Sirs. I....I was the one who saw him go to recon. He asked me not to say anything, just in case it didn't work. He didn't want me getting hurt."
The clone, Joyce, wrapped his arms around himself in self comfort as the anger in Helix's gaze ignited towards him. Freakshow just smiled soothingly. "It worked a little. It allowed me to explain my presence and give him time to really understand how I got there. It did heal him, even if my darling other half doesn't remember." The inverted clone giggled as he laid himself across the medic's shoulders. The other clone just grumbled in annoyance. Joyce smiled sorrowfully, nodding in acceptance.
Only to be punched in the face and fall to the ground. Everyone looked at Helix as he panted. Joyce cupped his jaw and tears filled his eyes. Pale teal tears that spilled over at the rage aimed at him. "You could have saved him! Now Jacob is dead because of you! I'll never have my Vod'ika back thanks to your silence!" Helix roared and Joyce flinched with a whimper. Freakshow growled.
"It wasn't your fucking choice to make. It was Jacob's. Nothing else was working to save his psyche from shattering and causing him to go AWOL. So don't blame him for something he had no control over." Freakshow hissed as he crossed the crack and helped the Kamino Bound clone to stand. The inverted clone grabbed his wrist and dragged Joyce over the crack to the Guard side. Joyce's armor changed colors to red. Much like Freakshow's had changed to gold and blue when he stepped over to the GAR side.
Fox jerked his head towards the riot barrier and Joyce melted into the Guard ranks. Disappearing from sight. No one really argued the Guard literally stealing one of their men. If it made the Guard feel like the man was safer than so be it. "Helix." Cody mumbled and Helix sighed with golden tears in his eyes. Captain Ritz moved to stand in his original place next to the one unnamed Guard officer, while Stitches stood with Freakshow at his back. No malicious smile to creep the GAR out.
Fox cleared his throat and attention was on him. "I'm glad this has happened. Because now I can say this with full confidence. Let it be known that the Guard will no longer treat the GAR with anything but professional politeness and business. It was agreed upon by all members of the Guard. The only expectation to that had been Bonsai. Who still had a batcher outside the Guard who still contacted her." The shiny who had been comforted at the beginning of all this flinched when their name was mentioned.
The shiny, Bonsai, shook as she became the center of attention. Said shiny stopped shaking when one of the bigger enhanced, one with patchy skin and white lined hair, stepped up behind her. Making their massive presence known. The Bad Batch, also part of the GAR despite their commando and black ops status, all looked shocked to see another of Wrecker's enhancement still alive.
"To answer any questions on the enhanced, the one behind Bonsai is Caboose. One of three of the Heavy classed enhanced among the Guard. The other two are Chalk and Titan." Fox said in monotone. The named enhanced nodded once to signal name and face. "They have a similar grouping system to the GAR's Bad Batch, though they don't strictly form up in their original unit unless necessary. Chalk frequents the medical bay, while Titan acts as the heavy artillery for the crew of the Victorian. Caboose acts as a free agent among the Guard, pulling those being reconditioned or decommissioned into our ranks to keep them safe."
Fox explained and Caboose grinned. Cody mumbled to himself in awe while the other GAR Commanders just stared. The Riot Troopers and those behind them had still not eased up. Neither had the other Guardsmen despite the calm atmosphere. "What can we do to regain your trust?" A clone in Wolfpack grey asked and Chemi was the one to answer. Though his voice was hoarse thanks to the damage in that area.
"That is a question best answered by the individual you want to regain the trust of. I'd say we all have different answers to that. Me personally? There really isn't anyway but through time and effort on both sides." The clone said, he sounded almost like he was mimicking someone. Another guard near the back with the Massiff members snorted sarcastically. "Don't get too hopeful though. Not sure I wanna give my trust back after it was shattered the first time." Some members of the Guard nodded in agreement.
It grew quiet after that. Both sides at a stand still. A member of the 49th stepped forward. "Who hurt you? It was supposed to be safe! None of you should have those kinds of injuries!" He shouted and many other GAR members murmured in agreement. The nameless Captain answered. "The Senate. Coruscant. Only ones who really left us alone was the Jetii. Well except for that Vos guy. He visited with food from time to time after we pulled him from the sewers or a dumpster." The answer seemed to echo in the once again silent space. The Guard seemed to act like it was normal. Like having these injuries was a daily thing to them.
Thinking about it now, Cody felt like it probably was.
"And you are?" Wolffe asked. The Captain grinned ferally. "ARC Captain Gatz of the Coruscant Guard. If you got a fucking problem with it we can fight right here and now." The ARC replied, not an ounce of fear in his face or voice. Wolffe raised his hands in surrender. "Just wanted your name! No fighting necessary!" The Wolfpack Commander reassured. That seemed to deflate the ARC as he pouted with a whispered 'Damn it.' that only Ritz seemed to hear. The blonde Captain patting the other on the shoulder in sympathy. Stitches snorted and crossed his arms. "As much as this little reunion has been informative, I have patients I need to tend to. So how about we figure out how to get out of here?"
Fox nodded in agreement. The Guard Riot formation eased just a little, allowing the troops to shake themselves out of their stiffness and reset their bodies.
"We'll deal with those bastards later then." Bacara muttered and several other GAR members whispering a faint 'oya' amongst each other.
The vantage points all lowered and the sniper units melted into the crowd of Guardsmen. Leaving only the black crack as the single deviation to the grey void.
Not that anyone really paid it any mind. The Guard wasn't trusting of the GAR right yet, and they were willing to work to gain that trust back.
No matter how hard it was or how long it took.
25 notes · View notes
chopper-base · 6 months
Text
Plan 99
Day 5 of @tbb-appreciation-week (which yes, I know im very late to)
Summary: Tech finds himself alive but in the empires hands. Extremely injured and alone, he can only hope his brothers managed to escape as he fights to escape with the help of a brother long lost.
Warnings: mentions of torture and death, hurt/comfort, Crosshair needs a kriffin vacation.
Prompts: Crosshair, Whump, Hiding face in neck, "I'll keep you safe"
Chpt1 | Chpt2
Tumblr media
Chapter 2
Crosshair awoke to a sharp ache, a pained groan slipping past his lips. He took a shaky breath, a migraine quickly forming. It was no surprise when he realized he couldn’t move, restraints tightly bound over his wrists and ankles. He knew it was only a matter of time before Hemlock or one of his assistants noticed he had regained consciousness. It was a hellish routine. Every second the sniper was awake, he was being probed and prodded, a rat for them to use however they pleased.
“Crosshair?” A small voice whispered his name and Crosshair hoped to the Maker he was hallucinating. “Crosshair, it’s Omega. Can you hear me?”
Maker, kriff it all…
He forced his eyes open a crack, looking out of the corners of his eyes to see two very young and tear filled eyes staring back at him. The young girl's hair was longer than he had last seen it, hanging down just above her shoulders. Small bruises littered her face and neck, a hint of blood staining the collar of her shirt. Crosshair couldn't stop the seething anger that came over him as his eyes scanned over every scrape and bruise on her skin.
He opened his mouth to speak, wincing at the pain it caused but he forced himself to look his little sister in the eye, "...Who did this to you?"
She forced a small smile onto her face, reaching up and setting her hand gently on his bicep. "I'm okay, Crosshair."
If he wasn't strapped to this damn table, Crosshair he was sure he was gonna murder whoever the unfortunate soul was that stepped into this room next. The sniper was never one for physical contact but he wanted nothing more than to hold the terrified child next to him. He looked around, surveying the room, noticing the two were strangely alone. "Where's the rest of the batch?" He asked, hating how his own voice scratched out of his throat.
Omega's face fell, tears beginning to collect in the corners of her eyes. "Hunter and Wrecker escaped but…" Her voice broke, the tears rolling down her bruised cheeks. "Tech… he…" the choked sob that escaped her lips was enough for the sniper to realize what she meant.
He desperately searched her face for some sort of lie. Tech couldn't be dead. They had survived so much. He couldn't…
"Omega." He said as calmly as he could muster. "What happened to Tech?"
She couldn't look him in the eye, holding his arm like a lifeline. "We got- we got your message. Tech convinced Hunter to… to look for you. He- we were stuck on a rail car and was just hanging. We tried to pull him up! But he- he shot the connector and- I'm sorry!" She sobbed, her grip on his arm tightening.
Plan 99… Tech had sacrificed himself to save his brothers. Crosshair squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. He looked back at Omega, choked sobs racking her small frame.
"Omega." He said softly. "Do you know if anyone is outside this room?"
Omega finally met his gaze, shaking her head. "I don't think so. They locked the door and left me in here. Nala Se convinced them to let me see you."
Crosshair glanced down at his restrained body before looking back up at the girl. "You think you could get these restraints off?"
Omega scanned over his body before nodding, freeing his head first before moving down. Her face scrunched in concentration as she fiddled with the controls for the metal cuffs restraining his arms and legs. A small smile worked its way onto her face as the cuffs snapped open, freeing the sniper completely.
He lifted his arms slowly, rubbing his sore wrists before slowly sitting up. Omega put a supporting hand on his back as he swung his legs over the side of the table. He knew they didn't have much time but he took a precious second to pull the child into an embrace which she gladly accepted. He pulled away, lowering himself to the floor, grabbing the table to keep himself from falling as his legs shook under his weight. Omega held onto his hip, helping steady him, her eyes locked on his. He looked around the room again, looking for anything he could use as a makeshift weapon, his eyes landing on a shelf stocked with different tools. He recognized every one as Hemlock had used everyone on him at some point during his unfortunate stay in this hell hole. He slowly made his way over the shelf, grabbing the electrocution rod, flipping it on and watched the electricity dance along the end before switching it back off. He turned to Omega who was watching him intently. "The next person to walk through that door is going to have a very bad day." That got the small smile to return to her face.
The sound of the lock disengaging had the sniper quickly crossing the room, standing against the wall next to the door. The door hissed opened, and two TK troopers stepped in, their gaze fixed on Omega. The first one dropped with a grunt, the other barely able to turn to see the sniper before he too lay in a heap on the floor. Crosshair quickly picked up one of their blasters, turning the stun off before handing it to Omega and grabbing the other, doing the same. "Stay behind me and shoot when I tell you too." He instructed, peeking out of the room to see an empty hallway. Omega remained glued to him, peeking out from beside him with a death grip on the blaster in her hands. It was almost cute to see such a small child holding a blaster but he was reminded of that dreadful day when the batch first fled Kamino. When that same child expertly shot his firepuncher out of his hands. He knew she had no blaster training and yet she made that perfect shot. He knew there was something special about this kid, he just didn't quite know what it was yet.
He made his way down the hall, making sure Omega never left his side, listening closely for any footsteps or alarms but the hall remained silent. Too silent for the snipers taste.
Finally, those dreadful footsteps began to echo down that damned hallway, forcing Crosshair to pull Omega into the closest door. He had snaked his arm behind her back, lifting her up enough to press the child against his chest as he slammed the door controls. The door hissed shut, both clones holding their breath as they heard thundering footsteps echoing down the hall. They were alone in the room, the lights dimmed as far as they could go leaving the two in near darkness. The blaster was still gripped tightly in Omega's small hand, her other hand made its way around his neck. She made no move to get Crosshair to put her down, holding tightly to the sniper. The footsteps faded letting them both finally breathe. Omega turned slightly, her face burying into the side of his neck.
He could feel her begin to shake, her other arm wrapping around the other side of his neck. He lowered them both down, his knees landing on the cool metal floor. Her feet were still barely touching the ground as he held her tightly, unable to bring himself to let her go. "It's ok, ad'ika." He whispered into her ear. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."
She pulled back, her feet finally flat on the floor. Her gaze met his, tears brimming her brown eyes. A small smile decorated her face as she looked at her brother.
Crosshair forced himself to return the small gesture, trying to keep the child as calm as he could. He finally broke his gaze away, looking closer at the room they had taken refuge in. The room was basically empty. All that stood in there was a small control station and what looked to be three bacta tanks. Crosshair's breath caught in his throat as his gaze met the face of the man suspended in the first tank. Omega turned, searching for what the sniper had noticed and it was clear the moment she did.
"...Tech?"
Tumblr media
Tag list!! (Let me know if you'd like to be added!!)
@rain-on-kamino @idoubleswearimawriter @staycalmandhugaclone @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @kalykat
39 notes · View notes
fanfic-obsessed · 1 year
Text
Removed
This one will wind to some dark places, and I am not sure it will get better yet. Also Jango Fett is not such a good person in this. Frankly, neither is Qui Gon Jinn.
We start on Melida/Daan. Obi Wan has been with them for nearly a year and The Young are winning, pushing for their peace. The Elders are approached by the Sith (Plagius or Sidious, it matters little) with an offer to pay to be allowed to take The Young. The Elders agree and the Young, Obi Wan included, are removed from the planet. For their trouble, the Elder are paid with enough weaponry that they wipe the planet of any life within five years.  Many of the children have a mild force sensitivity that seems to behave strangely around Obi Wan.
Most are used for experiments, including Obi Wan. Some are used to further Mauls training in the dark side of the force. Maul…hates these pitiful souls less than he does most.  He still does every horrible, vile thing that his Master requires but does not go out of his way to cause pain and offers the compassion of a quick death to the ones he can. He even speaks to the subject in between experiments and feels something like a kinship with them.  
For ten years Obi Wan and the rest of the Young are experimented on and tortured in every manner imaginable. Most have died in agony and the ones that live consider the dead the lucky ones. To the fascination of the Sith Masters not a single one of the force sensitive children have reached for the dark. It is almost like they are incapable of it. 
When it comes time for Jango Fett to become the template for the clones, he is also given Obi Wan Kenobi as stress relief. As this Jango has no want for sex, this means being an outlet for his anger, a punching bag. At Jango Fett’s insistence force suppressing cuffs and a force suppressing collar are sealed (welded) onto Obi Wan. This leaves him entirely unable to actively use the Force but Sith experimentation has left a passive ability to heal from almost anything. In this situation this is not actually a positive.  (Another side effect no one can figure out, he stayed looking 16 until Cody's batch reached that age, then proceeded to age along with them). At the time that Obi Wan was gifted to Jango Fett, 5 of The Young, other than Obi Wan, still live.  He is pulled from them, knowing that he will never be allowed to ask after them. 
Jango Fett is only given a single qualifier as to what he can use Obi Wan for: If he kills Obi Wan, they will not replace him.
On Kamino he is an anachronism.  When not acting as Jango Fett’s punching bag he drifts through the halls, speaking rarely to the non clones.  Several of the trainers watch him with a strange twist of guilt on their faces. They watch the bruises that are so consistent in size and shape that it looks like a patch of purple, black, and green moving across his skin over time. They take in the perennially blistered and infected skin around the collar and cuffs.  They see this and say nothing. 
For the clones it is both different and the same. They grow up knowing that this Obi Wan was no more free than they were. No matter the circumstances of his birth, he was a brother. To be protected when they could.  He held their secrets, their fears. He was the primary source of compassion in their lives. He protects them when he can and they never begrudge the times where he can’t (When he finds out about Priest’s fight club, he vanishes into Jango Fett’s apartment. No one knows what was said or done but when they emerge, Janog Fett is willing to exert himself to end the Fight Club and Priest’s other abuses. Obi Wan limps behind him with 20 meticulously broken bones in his right foot).
In this universe, as a last act of pettiness, Qui Gon Jinn takes Bruck Chun as a padawan a year after he leaves Obi Wan on Melida/Daan. His attention inadvertently prevented Xanatos from getting into Brucks head. They are a middling pair. Both are just a touch too arrogant to truly work well with others and they do tend to echo each other's worst traits but it is subtle enough that Bruck makes it successfully to knighthood a year before the Naboo crisis.  Jinn still finds Anakin on Tatooine, still wins his freedom and brings him back to the temple.  Though he had been unaccompanied at the start of the mission, his report means that three other knights ended up on Naboo with him. With this extra manpower Darth Maul is taken alive, to be locked in a cell in the Jedi temple.  Qui Gon Jinn lives to take on Anakin’s training. 
This Anakin is not as confident in his abilities. No matter what he does, he always gets the sense that Jinn expected better. By the same token Jinn is not too young and grieving, not overwhelmed with sudden responsibility. Palpatine cannot get the same hold he had on Anakin in another life. 
It is Anakin that finds Kamino in this life. Jinn clocked his crush on Padme and decided he did not want them alone together (Less chance of the Chosen One deciding to leave).   The clones, believing that Obi Wan had been given to Jango Fett by the Jedi (Something that Obi Wan can’t quite dispute), hide him from Anakin. After Fett’s death, they feared that Obi Wan would be taken away.  So they decide to hide him in the 212th with Cody. 
The two had been inseparable for years now, soulmates though neither thinks the term (In my head this is a queerplatonic relationship, in part due to the trauma they both have undergone). In fact, in this world Cody’s scar is deliberate, something that he (along with Fox and Ponds) devised to ensure that no matter how disoriented or afraid, Obi Wan would never see Cody as Jango Fett (His ability to tell the clones apart is not based in the Force, due to the cuffs. That does not stop Obi Wan from being able to tell each clone apart, no matter what).  
And so to the 212th, under General Qui Gon Jinn and his Padawan Commander Anakin Skywalker, goes a trooper named Shield (for Obi Wan has always been their shield).  The clones do not, can not, trust the Jedi.  They almost never remove their helmets in this world, save for when they were safely in the barracks so that Shield could move around freely.  The Jedi could not sense him, due to the force suppressing cuffs and collars. 
If we were to go with the cliches, Obi Wan would be revealed by accident in the most dramatic way possible. 
This is not what happened. The clones know that Obi Wan hiding as Shield is not a long term solution and the medics would really like permission to remove, along with help removing, the Force suppressors.  
8 months into the war, Plo Koon earns the full trust of the clones. With Obi Wan’s permission Wolffe approaches his general to tell him and abbreviated version of what was going on (a non clone who was living as a trooper, he had been on Kamino as Jango Fett’s punching bag, they want him to become an official member of the GAR so that he doesn’t need to hide any more).
Jedi Master Plo Koon is faintly horrified by even the vague details and agrees to meet with trooper Shield. When he asks about having Qui Gon at the meeting, Wolffe twitches. All the clones know who General Jinn is to Obi Wan, so they trust him even less than most Jedi. Jinn is not cruel to the Clones, but he treats them as he does most people he interacts with (Jinn cares little for the practicalities of their lives, so long as they continue to act in the way he expects. Thus he will call them by a preferred name if they request it but never asks for their names).  The next time the battalions meet, Cody and Shield meet privately with Wolffe and Plo Koon. 
Shield removes his helmet; gaunt faced, red haired, and clean shaven (Having never grown a beard due to some mix of injuries and the Sith experiments). Plo thinks he looks familiar and Obi Wan bows respectfully. Plo gently begins to ask for information.  Obi wan gives his name, but it still takes Plo a number of minutes to realize who he is talking to (In his defense it had been more than 20 years and Obi Wan is not the only youngling that has decided to leave the Order). Even after Plo realizes who Obi Wan is, they talk at cross purposes for several minutes. Plo Koon, of course, was under the impression that Obi Wan left the order to be with a girl two decades before. Obi wan believes he was rightfully abandoned for endangering Master Tahl, and cannot quite disbelieve the idea that it was the Jedi, or some Jedi, that gave him to Jango Fett.
As soon as Plo begins to gently question how Obi Wan ended up where he was, it became clear to the Kel Dor that information that was given to the High council twenty years before was at best wrong, at worst an outright lie.  He is horrified to see the mass of scar tissue and metal on Obi Wan’s neck and wrists and vows to help get it removed (Due to the burns and infection from when it was welded on and Obi Wan’s extraordinary ability to heal, flesh had grown over the edges of the metal), which would need to be done by the Temple Healers. He is heartbroken to realize what the clones, and Obi Wan, believe about how Obi Wan ended up on Kamino.  At the end he asks Obi Wan what he wants, going forward.
Obi Wan thinks for a moment, “To stay with Cody or, barring that, to stay with the clones in general. If possible, find out how the rest of The Young died and maybe be able to give them some kind of burial. If their remains can be found, that is.”  
After the campaign, Plo conspires to have the 212th and the 104th recalled back to Coruscant. There he could have Obi Wan meet with the council in person. Coincidentally Bruck Chun, with his commander Alpha-17, are also on Coruscant. Knowing that having troopers appear before the council without their associated Jedi would raise many eyebrows, Plo has Qui Gon Jinn, Anakin Skywalker, and Bruck Chun called to the Council with order to bring Commander Cody, Commander Alpha-17 (since Obi had indicated having Alpha there would make him feel better), and trooper Shield with them. Wolffe waits with them while Plo briefs the Council. The Jedi in the waiting room are curious and confused as to why this one specific trooper (Shield/Obi Wan) has been called in and why all of the present clones seem to be hovering protectively. 
They are called into the Council Chamber. Plo has told them very little (What Wolffe had told him plus that the non clone in question had been temple raised and was currently in Force Suppressing cuffs). In part he wants to see if the others will come to the same conclusions that he did. In part because while he doesn’t believe that any Jedi would have done what the clones think they did, he needs to be sure (and seeing their reaction to Obi Wan and his story first hand was the only way he could be). 
When Shield removes his helmet, the only person who recognizes him immediately is Bruck Chun, who blurts out “Oafy-Wan?” and then is horribly embarrassed about it (At 13 he had been a bully, but he had grown into a decent adult, particularly since he was fighting a war, and is embarrassed that his first thought when seeing the other man was the insulting nickname from two decades before). The clones are not impressed with Bruck Chuns reaction (Alpha is growling outright at his general). Before Bruck could apologize, Yoda said Obi Wan’s name. 
Obi Wan nods agreeably and says that is a name he has been called.  A question about the Force suppressing cuffs and collar (still covered by his blacks), has Obi Wan answering “Jango Fett insisted that I be unable to use the Force when I was given to him.” (Whenever he speaks of Jango, it is alway ‘Jango Fett’). It also becomes clear to the high council, Bruck Chun, and Anakin (though the latter has no idea of the backstory) very quickly that Qui Gon Jinn had lied to the council about how and why Obi Wan left the Order.
Every question that is asked of him seems to have a horrifying answer. When asked about The Young, he explains about the group of children trying to stop a war (the youngest was 5, the oldest 14 when he joined). The High Council grows very quiet as he speaks, this was not what they were told. Qui Gon Jinn shifts a little as a twenty year old lie is exposed, particularly as he is given a look from various members of the council that say they will be discussing this, soon. Mace asks why Obi Wan is so sure the Young are dead (as finding out how they died is one of the horrifically few things that Obi Wan is asking for). Obi Wan is silent for a moment then responds that he doesn’t for sure, but it has been 10 years and he hopes that the rest of the Young had found something like peace and that death was the most realistic way of that happening. He is asked why Obi Wan never tried to contact the Order during his year on Melida/Daan. He clones bristles at even the suggestion that their Shield was in any way responsible. 
Obi Wan gave a semi confused look and said “My comm unit, like my lightsaber, belonged to the Jedi Order. How would I have done that?”
 This was news to most of the Jedi present (Neither the comm or the light saber should have been taken). With the exception of Qui Gon Jinn (who admits that he should not have lied to the council but doesn’t think he did anything else wrong), Obi Wan (who has a skewed vision of how he should be treated), and the clones (who know this entire story and have moved onto anger) the entire room is abjectly horrified to realize that Jinn had abandoned Obi Wan in a war zone, weaponless, and with no way to call for help (Plo Koon in particular is halfway to breaking out the adoption paperwork for the entire GAR most of the time anyway, right now he is practically vibrating with the need to get them all away from a war). 
 Mace Windu brings the room back to order. He declares that the council needs to speak with Master Jinn (and the way that he said Qui Gon’s name indicated that the Master in the title might be temporary).  He asks Bruck and Anakin to escort the clones (with Obi Wan) to the healers so they could begin to get the cuffs and collar off.  It is up to Obi Wan if he wants to wear his helmet until he reaches the healing hall or not. The council could not guarantee out of hand that Obi Wan would be allowed to stay with Cody, but they would do everything in their power to make sure it happened. 
Just before they leave, Obi Wan bites his lip and visibly struggles with something he wants to say. When prompted he explains that he has (over the course of his time on Kamino) seen virtually every step in the growth and decanting process for the clones. Every step except one, where he believes that something is embedded in the brains of each clone. He doesn’t know what it is or what it does, but he asks that the Jedi Council investigate since he is afraid it is something that will hurt the clones. 
The walk to the healers was tense. Bruck and Anakin were both trying to silently work through what had just happened. It is a bit sad that neither are surprised at Jinn's actions. Vokara Che and Bant Eerin are the ones that meet them. Bant is angry with Obi Wan (because from her perspective he just left 20 years ago and never contacted her or their other friends again) but Bruck of all people stop her from saying anything hurtful by telling her there is more to it than she realizes.  
Once they have all piled into a private room, Healer Che asks Obi Wan to take off his armor (No there was no good reason that the various hangers on were allowed to be there, they just kind of kept following and no one said anything about it). Obi Wan requests that the head medic for the 212th be called down, as he has been the most involved with treating his injuries and so would be able to answer questions better.  Cody helps Obi Wan remove his armor (The cuffs affect the way that his wrists bend, making it harder to put on or remove certain pieces of the armor). 
When his top comes off, all movement in the room ceases.  The skin of his torso is a patchwork of green and brown (the bruising he received over the past 10 years was so regular and deep that even 8 months after Jango Fett died they were still healing. The only reason that he did not have actual nerve damage was his healing abilities).  While the Jedi in the room can barely react under the horror of what they were seeing, Alpha looks at the patchwork, pleased. He comments that it all looks to be healing well. 
Under the bruises were a map of scars, telling a horrifying tale.  The worst of which sat on each wrist and the base of his throat, metal digging into flesh and embedded in thick uneven scaring (A note on Obi Wan’s healing, as long as he lives he will heal. Things that should have become debilitating, life changing injuries heal into simple scars. Things that should have killed him because of infection do not. It does not speed up his healing, and though it takes much more he still bears scars).
When he is asked he tells them that the metal cuffs had been welded onto him. And yes he felt every minute of the metal being superheated.  Obi Wan would prefer to remain awake when the metal is removed (no they would not have to worry about him flinching because “Jango Fett did not like it when I flinched from the pain he wanted to inflict”). By the time he has won that argument, the 212th's head medic, Hypo, has arrived. 
The process of removing each metal band takes 3 Jedi healers working in tandem and hours of painstaking, deeply disturbing work.  They save the collar for last. As the last piece of metal was pulled from his flesh, Obi Wan inhaled sharply. 
“Three of the Young are still alive” he breathes, even as he doesn’t move.
Cody, who had been sitting carefully with Obi Wan, grips his hand. “Then we will help you find your family.” He promises. 
In a Cell in the lower levels of the Temple, Darth Maul perks up as he feels a familiar Force Presence. He calls attention to a guard and demands to see Obi Wan Kenobi. The guards do not know who this is but pass along his request to the high council, who are a bit confused.
I am not sure where exactly it would go from here.  I would kind of want to see the 212th being handed over to Obi Wan, though I am not sure how it would be justified. I figure that the first time that Obi Wan meets the Chancellor he has a bad reaction (Due to the Chancellor being one of the people that had experimented on them) but is able to hide it, and passes along his suspicions. They do eventually find the three other surviving Young (Nield, Cerasi, Roenni) as well as children that they (and various other members of the Young over time) had been forced to have, there was even a child who had been fathered by Obi Wan (Who does not remember this and is deeply unhappy with those facts) who have all also been experimented on.  
217 notes · View notes
thisbluespirit · 5 months
Text
For the Fanfic kiss meme, for @lurking-latinist - who asked for Seven/Romana + 20 (on a scar), but unfortunately while I am for the most part happy to go along with a bit of Doctor/Romana on demand, for some reason this is any Doctor/Romana except Five or Seven, who are NOTPS. (THis is totally illogical! idk. it just is.)
Have some Six/Romana, with thoughts of The Apocalypse Element in mind to make up for it, for the same prompt:
***
The story of what the Daleks had done to her was written on her hands.  Elsewhere, too, he imagined, his face darkening.  He did not let her withdraw his fingers from his.  He lowered his head and kissed them.
“Really, Doctor,” she said, her head leant a little to one side.  She’s still the same as ever to him, even if her voice has gained a wry, weathered tone, and her face a few lines from time as well as the Daleks.  “You seem to be getting terribly romantic in your old age.”
“Perhaps one of us has to.”
She gave a small smile.  “Oh, Doctor.  As if you don’t get tortured every other Wednesday.”
“That’s not the same!”
Romana turned his hand over and traced a finger across its tell tale marks: a burn here, a cut there.  “Isn’t it?”
“Not the every other Wednesday kind, no.  What you went through –”
“I’d rather you didn’t mention it.”  For one moment her hand quivered in his.  She raised her head.  “Better not, I think.  Don’t you?”
She kissed his palm.
“Oh?”  He arched an eyebrow.  “Who’s being romantic now?”
She laughed.  “Well, it is good to see you again, Doctor.”
Send me a ship + a kiss here!
21 notes · View notes
Text
So I was responding to this post When an idea popped into my head. Hear me out, a village of giants living peacefully in a valley away from the whole world for years and years. They never needed to change their ways and didn’t know what lay beyond the mountains that surrounded their huge valley.
Until one day someone appears, a tiny little adventurer. The giants are hesitant cause they’ve never seen such a creature, meanwhile the tiny is scared…until they realize that these giants are scared. The tiny calms them by showing them they mean no harm and showing them neat tools and items they had brought along. The giants find these things interesting and begin to trust the tiny adventurer. The tiny eventually leaves but comes back every so often, trading goods with the giants and learning about the giants.
Until one day the tiny comes back greeted by a group of happy giants, who only realize that the tiny is not alone. They’ve brought hundreds of other tinies who are all wearing armor and carrying weapons. The tiny army takes over the village, killing any giant that resists and any giant they feel like killing. It’s a blood bath and the remaining giants are horrified. How could their little friend do this to them? The army demands all the valuables and supplies from the remaining giants, who fearing they could be killed, gather what is requested and give it to the army. The remaining giants watch as the army leaves wondering if they had managed to escape a horrible fate. A year later the army returns and repeats the process demanding items and goods, killing anyone who resists. They repeat this every year and the giants fear when the army will come and they don’t know what they can do to stop them. They just pray and hope that the army will dwindle away or perhaps the tinies will change their minds, but every year they are proven wrong. Children are taught to give up things they love and need in order to survive the tiny army, lest they be killed. The army doesn’t care who resists, whether it be an adult or a mere child. Hell sometimes when every giant does what is said the army picks five random giants to torture for fun. Perhaps years past of this torturous life and one day a giant is found by a tiny. The giant pleads to be spared and not to be harmed and the tiny sees how terrified the giant is. This tiny has no idea about the army that comes to torture the giants and decides to befriend the giant, but the giant is terrified cause of the story about how the yearly visit from the army started with what was thought as a simple friendship with a tiny.
Who knows what happens next, maybe they do become friends. Maybe they figure out how to stop the torture. Perhaps every time the tiny raises their voice in anger or their fist the giant flinches away. Maybe the army finds out about this friendship and kills the giant leading the tiny to fight against the army, or perhaps the army kills the tiny leading to the giant to finally break and rampage against the army which only leads to the army pointing at the giants saying “this is why we must break them”
21 notes · View notes
anunfortunatekinlist · 5 months
Text
Peter's Betrayal.
Soooo I wrote a thing, I was so sick of having no reason for Peter's betrayal so I made one…. ig content warning for torture, kidnapping, blood etc.
He had been sat in the dark for hours, blindfold pressing on his eyelashes, tears soaking them and dripping down his chin, he has no idea where he is, and no idea who exactly who sat in the room with him, the only noise Peter can hear are muted screams and muffled laughter.
It had been hours, of taunting words, manic laughter and the incarcerous ropes cutting and burning his skin. Peter knew this was a consequence of the war, there was a slim chance that he would wind up like so many of their friends, but he never thought he was so important to have an audience. The fact that he was just sat in waiting for his captors to get bored of the others they were torturing to get to him next.
It was weird, having to mourn his own life sat in his own solitude, suffocating on his own dreams and and ambitions in a single moment until someone could finally put him out of his own misery.
The pure agony of waiting was finally halted, the blindfold finally pulled down to be met with a semi-familiar face, some kid he went to school with that he cannot quite place, one of the Slytherins in the lower year; several masked figures on the edge of the shadows, the room feeling as if it was going on forever.
Now Peter could finally take in his surroundings, he was in some type of abandoned warehouse, with the room only having one light on, the shadows consuming the rest.
"Well Pettigrew, welcome" the boy said, Peter could finally place him, it was Crouch Jr. He was a quiet boy back in school, went missing a year and a half back, many thought him to be dead, well they were all wrong.
All Peter could do was stare, transfixed, this boy was someone like him, and he had ended up one of his greatest enemies, someone who had killed his friends.
"You know Pettigrew, we haven't brought you here to kill you, that would be an awful lot of effort, so you can wipe that worried look off your face, you are awfully to helpful for a simple kill" Crouch stated, slowly walking out of Peter's sight towards the walls of the shadows once again, the wall of deep breathes and muffled screams filled the room once again, they were in front of him, through the shadows.
It dawned on Peter, they knew, the Death-Eaters know, they finally figured out that Peter was the Potter's secret-keeper, they wanted him for James, for Lily, for baby Harry.
Light consumed the room, flooding Peter's eyes, making him blink and having to focus his vison, he could finally see in front of him, through the masked men he saw four people in similar positions to him, tied and gagged. But Peter recognised them instantly, how could he not, his own parents and siblings were sat across from him, blood dried into their hair and tears constantly pouring down their face. All in their dinner clothes from earlier, now ripped and ruined.
He had just seen them hours before, they had all gone out to dinner for their parents anniversary, all able to forget the grief of war for a couple hours to celebrate their family and their parents love. It was heart-breaking to see the happiness ruined by the psychopaths in front of them. His little sister, only 17 years old was sat directly across from him, her dinner dress was ruined with dirt and her own blood.
Seeing his family in front of him, made his heart hurt, they were pain all because of Peter, his involvement in the war had directly brought them pain, it was all Peter's fault.
"No, no, no, why them? Why have you got them? You want me, not them. They are not involved in the war, it's me you want, not them" he was in distress, he couldn't understand why his family was involved in all this.
"Now now Peter, calm down, we won't hurt them if you do one small thing for us, I think you can guess what we want, just give us the location, and this will all be over, you and your poor little family can go home and forget this all happened." Crouch whispered, behind him now, there was no escape from his voice, it was all-consuming.
"I-I don't know what your talking about..." Peter whispered, choking back his sobs.
"Oh really dear, you don't know what I'm talking about." Crouch whispered in his ear.
One of the masked men walked over to his mother, and with his wand, cut down her exposed arm, blood pouring and her screams still muffled by the gag. Her sobs made his ears almost bleed, he was crying, trying to break away from the binds around his arms. "No, no. NO! Leave them alone please, please. They're innocent please."
"Then tell us what we want to hear, dear." Crouch now came and sat on his lap, as if he was enjoying a theatre show, glee written in his features.
"I don't know what your talking about you sadistic fuck, let them go, they have done nothing, I don't know what you are talking about." Peter sobbed, he was disgusted, he just want to be dead.
Another one of the masked men walked up to his older sister, she writhed under her binds as they got closer, but it was no use, all Peter heard was silence until a small whisper of "Crucio" and a jet of red light emitted from his wand, and then the gut-wrenching screams of his sister filled the room, her sobs and pain stuffed the room, nearly breaking Peter, he could not go on until the death-eaters murdered his family.
"Fine, fine. FINE! What will you do to them if I tell you." Peter shouted and the screams of his sister finally let go, and Crouch smiled ear to ear.
"Aww has Peter finally come to his senses? Are you going to give in? Have I proven to you that we are superior?" Crouch said, still perched on his knee.
"No, go fuck yourself, I just want to know what you plan if I do actually tell you" Peter said, voice horse.
Crouch slapped him, "Now, don't be rude, all we plan to do is to deal with the boy, nothing more."
"You want to kill a baby! You want to kill my nephew!" Peter said disgust filling his voice.
"Fine you don't want to help." Crouch said again, and flicked his wrist towards Peter's family. One of the masked men now approach his father, "What should do to him, because it seems as long as they're alive..."
"No please don't." Peter begged.
"Oh really, don't what?" Crouch whispered, and on of the masked men dragged a blade up his father's arm, not stopping, going painfully slow, blood slowly oozing it's way out, staining his clothes and dripping on to the floor. But it looked like they would not stop this time, the cut went from his wrist, and was slowly making it up towards his shoulder, and not stopping, and the blade starts to make a turn towards his father's neck.
"NO NO NO, PLEASE NO DON'T!" Peter screamed.
"Come on then tell us." Crouch whispered again, the blade was now at his fathers neck, digging in deep, he watched in horror and his father's life was being played with, as if it was a gamble, that if Peter could watch his father die, on his wedding anniversary.
"Potter's cottage, Godric's Hollow, in the West Country!" Peter screamed, "Let me go so i can heal my father!"
Crouch laughed in glee, "Thank you Peter, aren't you very kind." And the binds and gags fell from Peter and his family, Peter rushed to his father's side and snatched one of the death-eaters wands in the process, and started spells to stop the bleeding and heal his father's wounds so that he wouldn't bleed to death. Leaving a scar instead, encompassing his entire right side.
Crouch was beside him once again, "Aww are you happy now Peter, trading lives, your as bad as us." Crouch had his hand on Peter's shoulders, watching over him as he preformed spell's on his family in an attempt to heal their wounds and make sure that they weren't hurt further.
"I am nothing like you!" Peter spat, tears still welling in his eyes, he could never imagine this happening, he just killed his best friend's son, but saved his father.
"It's all for the greater good dear, someone had to die for everything to heal." Crouch said, still smiling.
10 notes · View notes
callsign-bunnie · 1 year
Text
Drowning without you PT 1
Graves is revealed to be alive the same day that Rodolfo goes missing. Alejandro immediately sets ghost to find him. Alejandro doesn't know what to do with himself if Rodolfo dies. He's the the closest friend he has. He's even more than that, to him. Losing Rodolfo would be worse than death.
Look, I’m a better writer than I am at making descriptions.
TW: Graphic violence, explosive character, mentions of torture.
Alejandro reasonably knew that Ghost would find Rodolfo. Ghost was a fantastic tracker. Alejandro had seen it many times. But… The back of his mind was screaming that he never would.
Alejandro had been doing his best to track him down on his own, but he knew Ghost would find him first. He knew this.
“Fuck!” He growled and threw his pen across the room, running his hand through his hair.
Kate Laswell, who had been patiently waiting for Alejandro to finish signing a few reports, barely flinched. “Ghost will find him, Alejandro. You don’t need to worry.”
“My best friend is God knows where, having God knows what done to him, and you expect me to not be worried??” He shook his head, leaning back- well more like throwing himself back in his chair. “What if it was your wife missing? Would you just not worry?”
He hoped she wouldn’t question that his first instinct was to compare Rudy to her wife, not Price, her best friend. Fortunately, she hardly seemed fazed. Instead, she sighed and relaxed her shoulders, uncrossing her legs. “You’re right, Colonel. I would be pulling every string aside from Ghost. Probably just as manically as you are.”
“Don’t lecture me to not be worried.” He turned in his chair to look at the window, gripping the arm rests before bringing his hand up to bite at a spot on his finger, a habit he’d developed in his teens to keep himself from saying things he didn’t mean. Kate was one of the few he was comfortable with doing it around.
“I knew, when we discovered Graves was alive, that I needed to be careful. To… hold everyone close but-” He pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I thought he would be… weak. Defenseless without any team. I didn’t expect him to be so fucking charismatic that he manages to pull together a whole fucking- Why Rudy?”
Laswell tilted her head to one side. “Alejandro, if you do not mind, perhaps I can look at it from a logical perspective?”
Alejandro waved his hand. “If you feel like it.” He muttered, sure he would only half listen.
“Well, I can look at this through a few lenses. Graves is not in charge of the cartel he managed to convince to help him take you down. Now, Soap and Rodolfo were the ones who tried to kill him. Not to speculate on Ghost’s feelings towards anything, only Ghost can truly know his own feelings, but I feel Graves perhaps thought it would be… dangerous to take Soap. It’s fairly obvious Ghost’s partial to Soap.” Laswell stood and moved to the window that Alejandro was staring out, watching the recruits in the training field do drills. “Besides that, he would have access to Gaz’s file. The kid passed his RTI training with flying colors. He knows holding onto him would be too difficult. And would prove worthless, in the end. With Shepherd taken down, Price is too important to the British Army.”
“Well, that leaves a few people. I never leave the base. Your friend Valeria is… too unreliable to cause havoc. And Ghost is… well, I think you can understand why he was not an option.” She put her hands behind her back, picking at her nails.
“That just leaves Rodolfo.” Alejandro muttered. Laswell was right. Alejandro was still suffering from the havoc caused by Shepherd’s betrayal. It had led to an easier time cleaning up the Las Almas Cartel, but he was still cleaning it up. Thankfully, Britain had sent a few more troops to help, for the trouble.
Likely a desperate “hey please don’t retaliate for this one fuck up” courtesy. Alejandro was grateful, so he had done his best to aid in smoothing things over.
“But, Graves had to know I would turn everything over to find him.” Alejandro straightened in his seat a little, his spine starting to hurt. He was getting old, though just barely pressing on it. Couldn’t sink his shoulders down for too long, anymore without risk of spine damage, apparently. Rodolfo had always been careful in reminding him to sit up when he noticed. Alejandro always pretended to be irritated but he was grateful. “Or that I would employ Ghost. Who, I hope, is turning every stone just as he would for Soap.”
It was an unspoken agreement amongst the 141 crew and Alejandro and Rodolfo to just… not mention anytime Ghost and Soap stared at each other. Or stood too close. But, it didn’t mean it went unacknowledged.
“I don’t think Graves was counting on Ghost actually caring enough to help you. Ghost has a reputation. Graves is… calculated.” Laswell shrugged. “Calculations do not account for organic factors. Or… missing facts.”
“If Soap had been taken, Ghost would have found Rodolfo by now.” Alejandro went back to glaring out the window. He couldn’t help but feel bitter.
“No. Trust that Ghost is putting in the same amount of effort and skill as he would for Soap. Or… anyone else.” She added, trying to likely give Ghost the benefit of the doubt. Laswell was like that.
Alejandro just fell silent. If he talked anymore, he would start to scream. And he couldn’t keep screaming.
Laswell turned to him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Not hearing from Ghost is good news. When he finds him, you will be the first to know.”
Alejandro grunted, doing his best to appear hopeful, but knowing it fell flat. He turned back to his desk, and pulled another pen out, signing the last report. “I feel we use you as a glorified paper runner.”
“I like walking around. Trust me, Alejandro, I wouldn’t if I minded. I find it hard to make myself do things I don’t find pleasant.” Laswell shrugged. “Unless they’re necessary.” She added and then picked up the small stack, sliding them into a manilla envelope to keep them together. “Ghost keeps his radio on. I don’t know if he’ll answer but you can always try to ask him for updates.”
“That is a dangerous can to open, Laswell.” Alejandro shook his head. “I know myself. I will start to ask every ten minutes and he’ll kill me. I may not fear Ghost much, but I keep a healthy… anxiety in my heart towards him.”
“Wise man, Alejandro.”
Alejandro only grunted and turned to the window again. Once Laswell left, the fear retained it’s grip on Alejandro’s heart, squeezing all the blood from it like a wet rag.
He dug his nails into the armrest of the chair, biting back a scream of frustration. He couldn’t stay in this room anymore. He would go insane. He took a deep breath, standing up and leaving.
He walked through the halls, going to the command room. Gaz was on a radio, probably on the current round to monitor Ghost. He went to him, watching his screen.
It was just a map of Mexico where Gaz would input Ghost’s locations and potential points of interest. “Any news?” Alejandro asked, holding his breath without meaning to.
“Nothing… big.” Gaz winced, causing Alejandro to release his breath. “He’s alive. Ghost knows that. He was able to tune into a truck radio where they were discussing moving him.”
“Truck radio?”
“Yeah, apparently this cartel managed to get their hands on old decommissioned trucks from your military.” Gaz nodded. “Ghost has a tracker on two of them, but they mostly run supplies between two insignificant warehouses.”
Alejandro frowned. “How does he know they’re insignificant?”
“Well, they’re barely the size of a small house and he can see completely through them from the rafters so…” Gaz looked up at him. He pointed to the map where the warehouses were marked.
Alejandro shook his head. It had only been a week but… he knew what could be done to a man in a week. “Has Graves reached out to make demands?”
“Nothing but the ones he left when he took him.” Gaz nodded, pulling up a scan of the letter. “Well, demands is putting it loosely. More of a threat. Sorry, mate, I wish I had more for you.”
“It’s alright.” Alejandro pulled over a chair that was empty. “Hand me a headset.”
Gaz seemed reluctant, but eventually did so. “I want to let you know that Price threatened to kick my ass for this but… you scare me just a little more.”
Alejandro couldn’t help his laugh. The kid looked so earnest and even shy about the admission. “Do not fear, Gaz. I will not tell him.”
He knew why Price did not want him on a headset. Alejandro kept himself contained, barely, as it was. “What are we listening to?” He asked as he slipped the headset on.
“Ghost thought it was important. A conversation between two drug runners.” Gaz went to put on the subtitles but turned red halfway through and stopped. “Right, sorry, you don’t need an interpreter. My right headphone interprets into english.”
Alejandro pet his shoulder but focused on their voices.
“Damned Gringo. They put him in a high position for what? All because he’s ex-military from America?”
“He was able to get his hands on vehicles and weapons. Boss trusts him. Who am I to question the Boss?”
“It’s shady.”
“You should watch your mouth. He hears everything.”
“Yeah, whatever. What’s our route again?”
“Eastern Wild Lily.”
“Code name.” Gaz murmured, clarifying. “Ghost has figured out each drug route. They use flower names. The more general, the bigger it is. It’s actually quite interesting.”
“What is Wild Lily? Do you have the routes marked?” Alejandro frowned, looking at the map. Gaz clicked a button and roads lit up, each labeled with their code name.
Alejandro whistled a little. So far, they seemed to only operate right outside of Las Almas. Too close for his liking. “I see.” He frowned but turned his attention back to the conversation.
However, they had stopped talking.
“Gaz- Gaz come in.” Both men immediately straightened at hearing Ghost’s voice.
Gaz put his microphone near his mouth, and pressed his talk button. “Ghost, I’m here.”
“I’m putting another route into the map. It’s an old mineshaft. They transport highly sensitive items through it. I think it’s where they took Rodolfo through. The end of it is right in the mountain where he was grabbed. I’m gonna scout it out, and report back in exactly 12 hours. Who will be on shift, then?”
Gaz looked to Alejandro nervously. “Uh… I think Soap. He’s offered to take night shift.”
“Damn insomniac. Alright. Inform him of everything when you switch- Gaz, listen to me. Write everything I just said down.”
Gaz rolled his eyes, muttering something about “my memory isn’t bad” but he wrote it down all the same. “Old mineshaft, sensitive goods, 12 hours, which lands you at exactly 22 hours, sir.”
“Good job, Sergeant.”
Gaz hesitated, glancing at Alejandro. “Should I inform Alejandro of this news?”
Alejandro already knew Soap’s answer as he heard it.
“Absolutely not, Gaz. I do not want to deal with the consequences of this being nothing.”
“Alright, Sir.” Gaz turned off his microphone and turned to Alejandro. “Please know I risk my bottom with great respect to you, sir.”
Alejandro shook his head. “Thank you, sergeant. When you get off shift, we uncovered a truck load of illegally imported teas. Go talk to the kitchen. They’ll make you a cup.”
Gaz grinned and stuck his thumb up before turning to the map to look at the information Ghost had put on the map.
Alejandro seriously considered staying, but he knew Ghost would not update until exactly 22 hours, so he stood after taking his headset off and finally went to the mess to get lunch. It was early, but they usually kept food on hand for him.
He took it back to his office, deciding to exercise his colonel privileges and eat there. If he could stomach his food.
22 hours did not come fast enough. He went to the command room immediately.
“Alejandro, I’ve been given-”
“Soap, you’re in my base. Besides, I already extorted Gaz. I know what’s going on.” Alejandro didn’t bother asking for the headset, just taking it. “I’m not gonna speak, so don’t worry.”
Soap didn’t seem to like the idea, but Alejandro knew it wasn’t for a regard for the rules. “Just, I’ll be alright, hermano.”
Soap sighed but nodded, turning on Alejandro’s headset. 
The other end was silent, as it was technically 21:56. Ghost was… infuriatingly punctual.
At 22:00 on the dot, Ghost’s voice came in.
“Soap, do you copy?”
“I’m right here, LT.”
“I’m coming back. Did Gaz brief you?”
“Down to every period and comma, sir.”
“Good. I won’t discuss my findings until I get back but.. It’s not good, Soap. Not devastating but… I couldn’t get to Rodolfo himself. This place is swarming. Too crowded for even my skills. But he’s here, Soap. And… I have videos.”
Alejandro tensed and clenched his hands into fists.
Soap’s eyes were closed, probably deeply regretting letting Alejandro listen. But, he didn’t blow Alejandro’s cover. “I will inform the rest.”
“Tell Alejandro as well.”
“I will. I… can you give me a scope of how bad the videos are?”
“They made my bloody stomach churn-”
Alejandro left, immediately, needing out of that room. He couldn’t breathe, his heart being squeezed into a pulp.
All he could think of was “outside” and “air. Air now” and so he all but ran outside, trying to catch his breath. They made my bloody stomach churn. Images flashed through his mind of everything that could possibly be being done to his precious Rodolfo.
Guilt dug into his brain. He should be out there, now! Not sitting here waiting for Ghost to find him! But he knew running out wasn’t the smartest. Hell, it was the stupidest fucking thing he could do.
Alejandro pressed his hand to his heart and tried to catch his breath, his mind screaming “go!” and his heart pressing the alarm button. He fell against the wall, sliding down it and clawing at his chest to get the feeling to stop.
He didn’t know how or when, but Laswell eventually found him, curled up against the wall and still unable to breathe.
“Hey, hey-” She forced him to face her, grabbing his face. “Alejandro, look at me.”
He did his best to breathe, looking at her eyes. They were concerned, but stern.
“You need to breathe. Sitting out here panicking isn’t doing anything.”
“Neither is sitting in there, waiting for Ghost to fucking return!” He growled at her, but tried to relax.
“Alejandro!” She snapped. “Now, I am not afraid to slap you to knock some fucking sense into your ass.”
His irritation at being yelled at paused the sensation of panic, but he barely noticed, shoving her off of him and standing. “The closest person in my life is being tortured so badly that it made Ghost’s stomach turn. I don’t make assumptions, but I am fairly certain that that is quite possibly the worst outcome at this moment!”
Laswell glared at him. “He could be in a fucking box!”
“Don’t start that shit, you and I both know that death is the better alternative to being tortured!” He snarled at her before turning around and hitting the wall, busting his knuckles open.
Kate seemed to soften and touched his arm. “You’re right. I am being… I’m going about this the wrong way. Look, your searches ended up with nothing. Your only option was to rely on Ghost. Now, your only option is to wait for him to get back and then go and rescue Rodolfo, alright? There is no more options.”
Alejandro closed his eyes and then shrugged her hand off of his arm, nodding. “You are right. Let’s go.”
She nodded and led him inside, taking him straight to the command room where everyone was waiting at a table.
Alejandro mostly ignored everyone’s looks of sympathy, sitting and resting his elbows on the table before clenching his hands together, staring at his rings.
He focused on counting each hair on his knuckles, needing to keep himself together.
Waiting was agony. Even with Alejandro’s resolve, each minute put that grip back around his heart, squeezing tighter and tighter.
Fortunately, everyone else was silent. Alejandro likely would have cursed at them if they even breathed too loud.
Finally, Ghost came into the command room. From the fact that he still had his headset on, it was likely he had came straight to the command room. 
Alejandro stood immediately before sitting again as he saw… guilt. Ghost’s eyes gave it all away. The remorse for the situation. Rodolfo had to be in a bad state. Alejandro didn’t want to find out how bad but he had to.
“The main operations are conducted in an old store room, located deep in the mining tunnels. Fortunately, there is a lift we could access on the opposite side which is the only other way out, save for the entrance tunnel, which is roughly a mile long.” Ghost put up pictures and a map on the main screen. “I know exactly where Rodolfo is, but it was too closely watched. Graves has it under tight security down there. Unfortunately, stealth was not a viable tactic. We need to blow up the radio tower and cut off communications and then send every man we can.”
He turned back to the table, looking at Alejandro. “I will lay everything out, but this is your mission to lead.”
Alejandro let out a breath and stood, crossing the room to look at the screen. He looked over Ghost’s plan notes. His eyes were caught by a picture of Rodolfo, chained to a wall. Fortunately, all of his body seemed to be intact, if not severely bruised. Systematically beaten, he would guess.
He took in a shaky breath before releasing it and turning to the table, considering each member’s strength like he did before every mission. “Laswell will stay here as an operator.”
Laswell nodded, unsurprised.
Alejandro looked to Gaz and price. “Gaz, you will lead ⅓ of our men to the lift and take that side. Brute force it. Price will take the rest to the other side and flush through the mining tunnels.”
Both also nodded, Price immediately standing and getting on the radio to gather forces, Gaz following him.
“Soap will blow up the radio tower, since he can handle explosives.”
Soap half grinned, sticking both thumbs up.
“Ghost, you and I will sneak in and grab Rodolfo during the chaos.” Alejandro turned to Ghost, who nodded, gravely. He turned to Laswell. “We will need you to keep a listen out for us.”
“Will do, Colonel.” She nodded.
Alejandro dispatched them to prepare before following Ghost to put on stealth armor. “Ghost, be honest. How bad is it?”
Ghost was silent for a while. “I will… be honest. I have had first hand experience with a lot. While it does not come near being the worst it was… more than I expected. And I expected it to be bad.”
Alejandro sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. “Where’s the videos?”
“I had them downloaded to a flash drive. You’ll find them in the mission data.”
Alejandro nodded, putting on his helmet and attaching the night vision goggles. “How difficult is this stealth mission going to be?”
“Difficult but Graves is not in the shaft at the time. He is in the US, likely gathering supplies.”
Alejandro clenched his fists. “So we can’t even kill the bastard?”
“We will. Eventually.” Ghost promised. “After the trouble he has caused me, I will personally end him. Slowly and painfully.”
“I want to.” Alejandro said, immediately. “I will.”
Ghost looked to him, seeming almost impressed, and then deeply concerned. “Alright.”
Alejandro relaxed only slightly before securing his com device.
Once everyone was secure and connected, Soap started his mission to the radio tower with Ghost guiding him to get there.
Alejandro watched his marker move on the map until he made it to a very old radio tower.
“Detonating in 3… 2… 1…” Soap’s microphone went silent before the explosion, thankfully.
“It wasn’t too loud. I only used one pack of C4 to bring down it’s leg and it sort of just crumbled. I am escaping back to the truck now to meet up with Gaz. Gaz, do you copy?”
“Waiting for you, Soap. We see your mohawk.”
“Do I look good?”
“Boys.” Laswell interjected.
Alejandro was grateful. He normally found their banter funny but… not that night.
“Soap is secure, Laswell. We are heading to the location of the lift, now.”
“Team A is surrounding the mineshaft as we speak. Gaz, you give the green light.”
Alejandro and Ghost took that as their cue to take off, Ghost driving the truck as fast as possible. 
They went to the lift’s side, since that was closer.
“Damn, the bloody lift is rusted shut.”
They were cut off by a small explosion noise and Soap laughing. “Not anymore. Good thing I kept a second charge on me.”
Ghost sighed as he got out of the car, shaking his head. “Exactly how many charges did you bring, Mactavish?”
“Only 4 sir. One for each leg of the tower. I didn’t expect it to be so old and decrepit. I likely could have blown on it and it would have crumbled.”
Alejandro took it back. He was grateful for the distraction.
“Team B is secured in the lift, Team A, do you copy?”
“We copy, Team B. Going in on your go ahead.”
“The lift is descending. Go now, Team A.”
Ghost nodded to Alejandro, showing him a small tunnel entrance. “It’s a maintenance tunnel for the lift. It’s how I got out.”
Alejandro swiftly followed him down, able to hear the distance sounds of gunfire. “How deep is this mineshaft?”
“More shallow than you’d expect. I suspect it was abandoned because of cartel activity.”
“Many were.” Alejandro nodded.
“From here you can slide.” Ghost said, after a few minutes and then started to slide down the ladder.
Alejandro followed suit, making sure to keep as slow of a pace as he could to not break his leg, or Ghost’s neck, at the bottom.
Once he hit the ground, he dusted himself off before putting his goggles over his eyes, following Ghost through the tunnels. They wound around dead soldiers and cartel members alike, though the cartel members far outweighed the soldiers. The fight was far from fair, but Alejandro didn’t care.
He would take care of the paperwork once Rudy was back at the base, safe and sound.
Alejandro followed Ghost deep into the minds, trying to keep his mind off the gunfire in the distance.
They finally reached another tunnel, which Ghost swiftly turned down. “There will be people down this way. Heavy guns. Stay close to minimize our target area.”
Alejandro nodded.
Ghost tapped his com device. “Laswell, this is Ghost checking in. We are in the tunnel leading to Parra. Dispatch Soap to follow at a distance.”
“Will do, Lieutenant. Soap-”
She turned to the other radio and cut off. Alejandro knew this was to make sure one of them could carry Rodolfo. He admired Ghost’s ability to think so far ahead in such a tense moment.
Alejandro usually could, but not right now. He ducked behind a minecart that was smashed into the wall as gunfire rang out towards him. He and Ghost both aimed and took out the offenders, before continuing.
They had to duck nearly every ten minutes, but eventually Soap’s gunfire would also fire with theirs, taking out more targets.
Finally, they reached a door and Ghost just shot the lock, yanking the door open.
They walked in to see a man actively putting a lock on a large glass box, rapidly filling with water, Inside, was Alejandro’s Rodolfo, panicking and slamming his fists on the glass as hard as he could.
Ghost started to take out the men surrounding the room, and Alejandro beelined straight for the one locking the box.
That one turned around and grinned at Alejandro, sticking the key in a mouth filled with rotting teeth and swallowing it. Alejandro didn’t waste time as soon as he was near him, knocking him down with the butt of his gun and shooting the glass. All it did was make a small circle of cracks.
“Fuck! Ghost, the box is bullet proof!”
“Where in the fuck did Graves get bullet proof glass?!” Soap shouted behind him.
“Damn it, it’s a key padlock!” Alejandro cursed for several long moments in spanish. He turned to the man, who was laughing on the ground.
He kicked his stomach, causing him to groan and roll over, coughing up blood. But no key. “Fuck!!!” He snarled and kicked him again.
“I’m not gonna puke it up! Fuck you!”
Alejandro stared down at the man who was still coughing. 
Ghost seemed to be looking for a solution.
Alejandro turned to the box, where he saw that the water level was already under Rodolfo’s chin. He started to panic, the weight of the situation pounding down on him.
He looked back down at the man, getting out his knife. “Fine. Then I have no other option.”
The man’s eyes widened and he suddenly started to make a very concerted effort to get away but Alejandro dragged him back, forcing him onto his back and keeping him down with his knee on his chest, crouching to reach.
He ripped the man’s shirt, not hesitating to sink the blade deep into his stomach. He sliced upward with a fluid motion, hearing a gurgle from the man, which almost drowned out the squelch of organs being slide in half.
Alejandro shoved his hand into what he hoped was the man’s intestine. Blood pooled fast, sinking into the top of Alejandro’s glove, but Alejandro continued, finding the key after only a few moment’s of searching.
The man couldn’t scream, but he was trying, clawly at Alejandro’s leg as his strength waned.
Alejandro didn’t waste time to kill him, wiping the key off and forcing it into the padlock.
Once the lock was off, he slammed into the box.
It swayed once before he slammed into it again, sending it tipping over,
Fortunately, Rodolfo fell out with only a soft thud, sliding across the dirt.
Alejandro immediately ran over to him, Soap and Ghost following.
Soap checked his pulse. “He’s not breathing.”
“Move!” Alejandro barked at Soap, shoving him away. He got Rodolfo onto his back and immediately started chest compressions.
1, 2, 3- come on Rudy, come on! He stared at Rodolfo’s face as he did them, before stopping at 30 to force air into his lungs, and then continuing compressions.
Every beat felt like agony, but Alejandro continued.
“Alejandro-” Soap started but Alejandro only glared at him before continuing.
It was the only time Alejandro had seen Soap shrink back.
1, 2, 3- Rudy, wake up! Wake up now!! His heart started to squeeze tighter with each beat.
The hope started to leave his chest and right when the thought of giving up cross his mind, Rodolfo’s body jerked and he gasped, his eyes flashing over.
Relief slammed into Alejandro’s body and he immediately pulled Rodolfo up into a hug. 
He felt Rodolfo’s arms attempt to weakly wrap around his body, confirming he wasn’t brain dead. “Rudy, oh thank god-”
“Commander, I-” Rodolfo rasped before coughing up water right onto Alejandro’s shoulder.
Alejandro wouldn’t have cared if he puked into his hair, because it meant Rodolfo was alive. “Don’t- Just relax, we’re gonna get out of here.”
He stood, tugging Rodolfo up and throwing him over his shoulder, trying not to notice how considerably lighter he was.
Graves was going to regret every scar. Every bruise. Every kilogram that Rodolfo had lost. Every fucking chest compression that Alejandro had to perform. Every moment he had feared for the possibility of Rodolfo never being found alive.
Every single fucking second of it.
Alejandro rushed after Ghost and Soap, trying to comfort Rodolfo who coughed at every jostle.
Soap led them back to the lift and started to force it up, ducking as gunfire sprayed into it.
“Gaz!! It’s us!!” He immediately cried into the coms, trying to force the lift faster.
“That’s not our gunfire! There was an unmarked tunnel, some of the cartel members got away through it. I’m trailing them now! Is Rodolfo secured?”
“I have him Gaz!” Alejandro confirmed, gently setting Rodolfo down where the bullets couldn’t reach.
“Gaz, retreat back to the other entrance, I’m blowing off another pack of C4!” Soap called, getting the C4 ready.
“Soap, are you out of your fucking mind?!”
“Just get to the other fucking entrance! Price, retreat now!!”
Alejandro looked at Soap, about to stop him before setting the sheer number of cartel members pouring out of the secret tunnel.
Even Ghost looked alarmed, shooting what he could.
Soap armed the C4 and waited before pressing the button right as the lift was almost too high. “45, 44, 43,” He counted.
Ghost slammed his fist on the up button for the list. “Faster, you piece of shit!!”
Alejandro immediately went to coms. “C4 blowing in-” he listened as Soap hit 30 seconds, “30 seconds!”
“Jesus fucking christ, Soap!!” Price practically screamed into the coms.
Right as Soap hit 15, the lift made it to the top and Alejandro grabbed Rodolfo, throwing him up onto the dirt.
Soap and Ghost climbed out and dragged Alejandro out, Alejandro barely making it out before the lift slammed right back down, a very muffled explosion ringing up through the shaft of it.
“Fuck-” Soap panted.
“Team A and Team B, do you both copy?”
“Team A and B both secured, retreating to the trucks, now!”
“Soap, I’m gonna kick your ass when this is over.”
“Hey, it worked!!” Soap grinned and helped Alejandro get Rodolfo back to the truck.
Rodolfo was shivering violently, unable to take a step without falling.
Alejandro climbed into the back with him and Soap, who promptly went to work assessing Rodolfo’s injuries and treating what he could.
Alejandro focused on keeping Rudy awake, carding his fingers through his hair and gently asking him to keep his eyes open.
“Commander, I can’t, I’m-”
“Shh, I know…” Alejandro murmured and smiled, looking into Rodolfo’s eyes.
Rodolfo started to cry, likely from exhaustion and stress, begging Alejandro to let him sleep.
“Delirium. Keep him awake. If he’s awake, his brain is working.” Soap commanded Alejandro.
Alejandro just worked on keeping him awake, shaking him when he had to. “Remember the mountains? Cliff jumping?”
Rodolfo hiccuped and cried out in pain before panting a little. “I.. never wanted… to jump, that… was your idea…”
Alejandro laughed softly. Always Rodolfo, reminding Alejandro that he was in fact the trouble maker of the two. “You always did it, though.”
“Would follow… you anywhere, Commander…”
Alejandro felt a pang in his chest. He shook him to wake him when his eyes closed, causing Rodolfo let out another soft sob.
Once they were back at base, he was taken immediately to the infirmary, where Alejandro couldn’t follow.
The medics were competent. He would trust them with his own life. But not Rudy’s.
Rodolfo had barely noticed being moved, just asking the medic if he could sleep now.
Alejandro clenched his hands into fists, taking deep breaths to calm before meeting Price and Gaz and Lazwell.
25 hours. Alejandro counted each minute. Fuck, he counted each breath. 25 hours was how long before he was allowed to see Rodolfo.
Alejandro barely had to think before he was bursting into Alejandro’s room, unable to breathe at the sight that greeted him. “Don’t worry, Commander. He’ll live.” The medic currently tending to Rodolfo informed Alejandro.
Alejandro had a hard time believing it as he looked over Rodolfo. 
Rodolfo had always been nearly 3 inches taller than him. Alejandro had hated it. Each time it was brought up.
Of course, Rodolfo brought it down to 1 inch by always crouching all the time. He always tried to make himself less imposing. Even in the field. Alejandro had scolded him many times for it.
Now, looking at Rodolfo in the bed, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. He looked so small…
Alejandro dragged a chair over to the bed.
Of course, even with the height difference, everything else about Alejandro was bigger. Bigger chest, bigger shoulders, bigger hands, bigger personality.
He took Rodolfo’s hands, which were lightly bandaged. He looked over Rodolfo again. He remembered the last time he was in a hospital bed. The fire… He had been so panicked then, and even still… Rodolfo hadn’t looked this… broken. Just exhausted.
Even with the oxygen mask keeping him breathing, he looked like he was getting to sleep after 3 days of none.
Alejandro looked at Rodolfo’s hand, again, able to completely fold it in his own. He pressed his forehead to Rodolfo’s knuckles. “Rudy…” He murmured, not liking how his voice came out. He sounded as broken as Rodolfo looked.
He looked at his face again, reaching up to straight Rodolfo’s hair, putting it how Rodolfo preferred to keep it. He remembered Rodolfo’s words in the truck. I’d follow you anywhere.
Alejandro would not ask Rodolfo to follow him into death. He couldn’t take it. Watching Rodolfo cling to life was like sucking his own out of him. Each breath had been agony.
He looked up to a soft noise. “Ahem.” Ghost stood in the door, holding a flash drive. “Laswell hit a button and ‘accidentally’ deleted the footage of Rodolfo being tortured. But… I put it on a flash drive for you. She… doesn’t understand that need. To watch it.”
Alejandro looked down at that small little rectangle in Ghost’s hand.
Part of him wanted to curse Ghost out for suggesting he even look at it, but the rest of him needed to see. Needed to understand what Rodolfo had went through.
He stuck his hand out for it, looking away from Ghost.
Ghost placed the drive in his hand. “Graves has been located. He’s on the path back to the border, now. We cannot grab him while he’s in the US.”
“Officially.” Alejandro corrected.
Ghost looked at him for a moment. “What do you want me to do, Alejandro? Say the word, and I am yours to command.”
Alejandro looked down at the flash drive in his fingers. “Is he in them? Does he touch Rodolfo?”
“Graves did most of the interrogating. So, yes.”
“I want him in one of my cells as soon as you can get him there. Faster than even that.” Alejandro growled, clenching the drive in his fist. He was going to do whatever had been done to Rodolfo to Graves. Slowly. He would make sure he felt every minute of it.
Ghost stood and left, immediately.
Alejandro turned back to Rodolfo.
He’d give anything to see his eyes right now. He took Rodolfo’s hand again and then… after a moment, he started to kiss every finger, murmuring an apology with each kiss.
One for not finding him sooner, one for forcing him to stay awake, one for not immediately taking Graves’ reappearance more seriously, and one for not taking the chance to tell Rodolfo every single thing he felt towards him before.
He put his forehead on Rodolfo’s hand again, trying to think through his feelings.
He knew he felt… something romantic towards him. Something strong. It was too big for Alejandro to keep a handle on, sometimes. He took a deep breath, able to perfectly imagine the warmth in his chest that he always felt when Rodolfo smiled at him.
The clench in his heart when Rodolfo said his name or laughed. Even just “commander” caused his heart to flutter.
At first he’d been embarrassed over it, but in time he had settled into just accepting it as part of them. Being in love with Rodolfo felt as inherent as breathing or sleeping.
The sun would rise, flowers would bloom, clouds would rain, and Alejandro would love Rodolfo. It felt baked into the universe, so absolute and so divine, that Alejandro would not fight it, even if he wanted to.
But… Alejandro could not be sure that Rodolfo felt the same towards him.
Being of higher rank brought a concerning power dynamic, and while Alejandro knew in his heart that he would not pressure Rudy into loving him, how did he know Rudy would not feel pressured, anyway?
He couldn’t live with himself if that was revealed to be the case.
And… Alejandro knew his affection was obvious. Valeria had pursued him during their time at a squad, but even she noticed that Alejandro’s heart was already taken. Had been since they were children.
Alejandro’s heart would forever belong at home with Rudy.
If Rudy ached, it ached. If Rudy smiled, so did his heart. Losing Rudy meant losing his heart. And Alejandro feared that more than anything else in this world.
Alejandro looked again to Rodolfo’s face, being greeted with brown eyes, watching him move.
“Commander-” He coughed a little, pulling the intubation tube from his mouth. “I-” He coughed again.
Alejandro gently stopped him, putting the tube back. “You need it to breathe, Rudy.”
“I’m sorry-” It was muffled but Alejandro could make it out.
“Rodolfo, there is nothing to apologize for. I am just… so grateful that you are here and you are alive.” Alejandro sat back down and smiled at Rodolfo.
Rodolfo relaxed and closed his eyes again, looking exhausted. “Chest hurts…”
“You didn’t swallow much water but your body was weak when you swallowed what you did.” A medic replied, stepping in. “But, you’ll live. And you’ll be back in action within the week.”
Alejandro glared at the bed. He’d see about that. After this, he wasn’t sure he wanted Rodolfo back in the field.
Rodolfo seemed relieved.
“I want to do some small tests. You sustained a lot of damage to your spine, Sergeant. Can you hold up two fingers?”
The movement was weak and slow, and his fingers didn’t quite clench properly but two fingers were held up. 
“Perfect, Sergeant. Now, I’m gonna dig my pen into your foot. Nod if you feel anything.”
She moved to Rodolfo’s feet, doing as she said.
He frowned but didn’t nod.
The medic frowned. Alejandro felt his heart being squeezed again. “What does that mean?”
“As I said, he sustained a lot of damage to his spine. And his nervous system due to almost drowning. We’re gonna give him a day to rest some more and test this again.”
Alejandro clenched his hands into fists. “Is he paralyzed?”
“We do not know, commander. We will have to wait to find out.” She smiled, sorry. Then, she left the room.
Alejandro looked to Rodolfo, who had closed his eyes again. He took a deep breath and took Rodolfo’s hand again. “It’s gonna be okay, Rudy.”
Rodolfo nodded a little, his eyes opening and looking at Alejandro.
Alejandro, for a moment, found himself feeling he was being pulled open, every feeling he had towards Rodolfo on bright display. He looked away, wincing as Rodolfo made a frustrated noise.
“Why??”
“Why what, Rodolfo-” He was stopped by a medic coming in. She unhooked everything unnecessary from Rodolfo’s body, leaving him with just the IV and putting a small oxygen hose around his nose, stating it was just a precaution to make sure he was breathing. Then, once she had helped him sit up, she left.
Alejandro waited for her to leave before turning to Rodolfo, being met with him glaring at him. “Rodolfo..” He sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“You always look away from me when I can… see on your face that you’re thinking something deep. There’s something you want to say but if you look away, you won’t.” Rodolfo coughed a little but mostly glared. “I am not a child, Alejandro, I can handle whatever you’re about to say.”
Alejandro shook his head. “It’s complicated, Rodolfo. Deeper than just unspoken words.”
“I’m in love with you, commander.”
Alejandro’s heart stopped and he immediately turned to Rodolfo, who was looking away from him. His face was deep red and his hands were in fists.
Alejandro softened and tried to breathe again. “Can you repeat that, Rudy?”
“I. am. in. love. with. you.” He repeated, sounding even more irritated. But, his voice cracked on the last word and he turned back to Alejandro. “And I know you’re in love with me back, so why can’t you just say it?”
Alejandro was unable to breathe again, seeing the intensity in Rodolfo’s eyes. He had stared into them many times, unable to form any other ideas than kissing Rodolfo and even now, that was all his brain could offer.
So, he did. He surged forward and grabbed Rodolfo’s face, kissing him deeply.
Rodolfo at first tensed before just melting into the kiss, reaching and grasping at Alejandro’s shirt with whatever strength he had. Alejandro felt his skin catch fire wherever Rodolfo touched or made an imprint.
Alejandro was gentle as he could be, pulling him close and almost cradling him, careful not to hurt his precious Rodolfo. Finally, he broke away, panting a little, when he needed air.
Rodolfo was panting as well. Too hard. He had to quickly lie down, staring at the ceiling. “I… have fantasized… most of my life about you doing that.” He smiled at Alejandro.
Alejandro pushed his hand through his hair, taking deep breaths to slow his heart. “I have fantasized almost every day since I was 12 years old about doing that.” He grinned and leaned close to Rodolfo again, gently kissing his jaw, and then his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth, mostly doing it to be able to hear his breathing.
“You need to rest, mi sol.” He murmured, smoothing Rodolfo’s hair.
“How can I? You made my heart go so fast I can no longer hear its beats.” He gently grabbed Alejandro’s shirt again, keening into each kiss.
“You have a taste of what your eyes do to me, then.” Alejandro purred into his neck. “I’m… you need to eat and so do I. I haven’t eaten since the morning before we rescued you.”
Rodolfo tsked. “Alejandro-”
“I know, Rudy. I know.” Alejandro laughed softly and stood.
He was swift, not wanting to waste time to be with his Rudy again. He grabbed whatever they gave him, bringing it back to Rudy.
Fortunately, it was molletes, which Rudy liked. Not necessarily loved but he liked them enough.
Alejandro sat by his bed again, helping Rodolfo back up so he could eat. He let Rodolfo eat on his own, knowing he was too proud to accept help. 
And, they ate in silence, neither one willing to break it.
67 notes · View notes
whumpwriterforlife · 8 months
Text
Call of Duty Snippet #1
In which Price watches over his sleeping Sergeant (Ghost) and contemplates his strength.
***
Simon was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a deep, steady rhythm. Price didn't dare to move. It must have been days since the newly promoted Sergeant had slept for more than mere minutes at a time, constantly tormented by nightmares that weren't even that, but actual memories. 
Price downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, grimacing when it burned on its way down. His eyes drifted to Simon's face, to the scars that now marred the previously unmarked skin. There were more of them hidden all over Simon's body, Price knew, and it pained him that they would never let Simon forget, always there when he looked in the mirror and undressed, a cruel reminder of the betrayal and torture he had gone through. 
At times Price wished the men responsible weren't dead, just so he could make them regret their actions. It had taken weeks after his return for Simon to speak, and he had refused to talk to anyone but Price. It had taken him nearly two months to be released from the military hospital. Many more before he stopped flinching at Price's touch 
It had taken until last week, nearly seven months after his return, that Simon had felt comfortable enough to leave his mask aside when they spent time together in private. 
The kid wasn't even thirty, damn it, he didn't deserve to be burdened with such heavy trauma. 
Simon shifted in his sleep, but soon settled back to sleep. 
Price breathed a sigh of relief. 
Simon was strong, though. The strongest man Price knew. He had survived and built himself back up after losing his family and so very nearly himself in the hands of pure evil. It didn't matter that his recovery was most likely going to span years, Simon had beaten all odds so far and would continue doing so because he was a survivor. 
And Price couldn't have been more proud of him. 
17 notes · View notes
Eleutherophobia Deleted Scene
@eomund42 #might have to post as a DVD extra or whatever  
Yes please!
[This fragment was originally part of Chapter 6 of How I Live Now.  I got rid of it because a) the conversation around Jake’s table was getting too long, b) the tone doesn’t work given how the chapter opens, and c) I accidentally left Rachel and Effilit unsupervised in the yeerk pool, so I needed to retcon that the Tobys were guarding her while everyone else was at the house.]
“Food?  They had enough kandrona for years.”
“Not the yeerks, the hosts!”  I stood up, pacing as I talked.  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spotted it before.  “The Blade ship only had space for a few months’ worth of food storage, and I know that at least some of that was taken up with bark for hork-bajir or taxxon meat for taxxons.”
Marco made a gagging noise which I ignored.
“Visser Seventeen didn't bother restocking those stores or even checking them.  Humans are omnivores, that’s a big part of what makes us so useful,” I continued, “and the yeerks always assumed that they could feed a human body just about anything that didn’t poison it and it would keep going.”  I turned around, making eye contact with Eva.  She was nodding slowly.  “But what if that’s not the case?  What if they ran through the human food supply they had on board and couldn’t find any alternatives that had all the vitamins or amino acids or whatever that a human body needs?”
“They really don’t know as much about humans as they think they do.”  Eva offered me a tight little smile.  “Edriss wrote up most of the intel they have on us and... Well.  Edriss wasn’t a disinterested party, given that her life depended on her ability to convince the Council that humans were worth the Empire’s time.”
“That would explain why the Blade ship hasn’t been back sooner,” I said, resting both hands on the back of the empty chair.  “They’ve probably been hopping around between planets this entire time searching for a plant or animal source that’s close enough to Earth food.”
“Until they got desperate enough to come back here,” Cassie said.
I nodded.  “Humans can digest just about anything, but that doesn’t mean they can live off it indefinitely.  The yeerks probably found a few partial food sources, and they might have bought themselves some time by forcing one of the hosts to morph a large animal, become a nothlit, and then—”
Marco made his stop-talking-about-cannibalism gagging noise again, this time louder.
“Anyway,” I said, conceding the point this time.  “Maybe there’s no vitamin K in the universe in a form humans can use.  Maybe there’s no calcium.  I don’t know, but whatever it is they’re missing, they’d get desperate enough and have to come back here.”
“So this is a quick trip.  A grab and go.”  Cassie exchanged a glance with Jake.
“Which means that if Rachel doesn’t come back within a few hours they’ll probably leave without her,” Jake concluded.
“And that brings us back to Tom’s original point,” Eva said.  “We need to figure out where the rest of them are hiding.  Immediately.”
<Rachel can tell us right now if we figure out a way to get that thing out of her head,> Tobias pointed out.
Having arrived firmly back at square one, we all sat there in frustrated silence for several seconds.
“Could you contact your illusionist?” Eva said.  “Make, I don't know, a hologram vanarx to threaten it with?”
I glanced over at her.  That wasn’t a bad idea.
“Illusionist?” Marco said.  “What illusionist?”
“Your person who makes the holograms,” I said impatiently.
“We don’t have a person who makes holograms.”  Marco glanced at Jake, who gave a slight nod.  “I mean, maybe if Ax-man asked the Dome ship nicely they’d be willing to whip something up, but that’d take too long.”
Eva leveled a long, unamused stare at Marco.  “I may have been born at night, querido, but I wasn’t born last night.”
Marco looked away, shoulders hunching.
“Eva,” Jake said.  “Please trust us.  We’re telling the truth that we don’t have an illusionist.”
“I know perfectly well that you six did not whip up an entire fake hork-bajir valley in less than three hours using parts you found at Radio Shack,” she said flatly.  “Humans still don't have that kind of technology.  Probably not the andalites either.  So.  Who helped you?”
“Technically...” Ax said.  “Eck.  Nick.  Lally.”  He trailed off.  That appeared to be all he was going to say on the subject.
I looked at Eva.  Eva looked at me.  We were adults, I reminded myself, in a room full of kids.  There was no need to bristle with defensiveness, no need to feel like the only two losers out of the loop.
“You could make a hologram on that scale, with that level of sophistication, right now?” Eva said to Ax.
And now none of the Animorphs were looking at her.
<Those were special circumstances,> Tobias mumbled.
“And the current situation doesn't count as special circumstances?” I looked slowly around at each of them.  Jake wouldn't meet my eyes, but Marco leveled me with a hard, defiant stare.
<No, just…>
“You just can’t have the zombies knowing about it?” I asked.
Cassie stiffened.
Jake held up both hands in a placating gesture, looking between me and Eva.  “It isn’t possible, okay?  So leave it.”
I shoved forward to brace both hands on the tabletop.  At least three of them flinched.  “Just like it’s not possible for you to pull an exact copy of Cassie out of your collective asses?  Cut it and it’d bleed, but scan it for life forms and it’d pop up as inorganic.  Hang onto it for over two hours and it wouldn’t demorph, but take your eyes off it for a second and—”  I snapped my fingers.  “It’d disappear into thin air.  You mind telling me how you pulled that one off?”
There was a long silence.  Tobias had developed an apparent fascination with straightening his own feathers.  Cassie just looked annoyed with me.
“Didn’t think I’d notice that, did you?” I asked them, voice flat.
“To be honest?” Marco said.  “No, we didn’t.”
“It's not our secret to tell,” Cassie blurted. “We swear.”
Marco glanced at Jake again.  Jake looked at Cassie, who looked from Tobias to Ax and then back to Jake.  Jake looked back at Marco.
“Since Tom and I are clearly the only ones who give a damn about actually helping Rachel,” Eva said, “perhaps it would be best if we left the room.”
“Chee!” Marco shouted.
We all looked at him.
“That's whose hologram tech we were using,” he said. “The chee.”
It was progress, anyway.  “What’s a chee?” I said.
Jake muttered something about there not being time for all this, but looked up at me and said “There was this species called the pemalites.”
“Yeah, everybody knows about pemalites.”  I frowned.  “Wait, you’re telling me they’re not extinct?”
“They are,” Jake said.  “But they built robotic companions before they died.  And those companions, those chee, were specifically designed to look and sound and even feel like anything they wanted.  The chee can’t commit violence, not even to save a life.  But, yeah, they can make a copy of Cassie — or the hork-bajir valley — on command.”
“Please, you can’t tell anyone,” Cassie said.  “Their existence depends on their secrecy.”
I shrugged.  “I so do not care that the pemalites left behind a bunch of sex bots, and don’t think anyone else will either.  Can they help us?”
“Sex bots?  Sex bots?” Marco spluttered, twisting around to glare at me.  “They're not sex bots, you absolute sixth-grader.”
“’Chee’ literally just means ‘friend,’” Cassie said.
“And you can program them to look like anyone you want because…?” I raised my eyebrows.
Cassie opened her mouth halfway, and left it open.
“Jake?” Marco said imploringly.  “Tell me the chee aren’t sex bots.”
Jake patted Marco on the arm.  “The chee aren’t sex bots.”
“See?” Marco said to me.  “You are a disgusting human being, and oughta be ashamed to open your mouth.”
“Always am,” I said, smiling angelically.
<Anyway, it’s a moot point.>  Tobias glared at me.  <The chee wouldn’t spit on us if we were on fire, even if we could contact them.  Which we can’t.>
“Why, what happened?” I asked.  
Jake suddenly became fascinated with the grain of the tabletop in front of him.  Cassie made a noise of annoyance in the back of her throat, also looking away.
“He was fine,” Marco said loudly.  “Jake did nothing wrong.”
“Who was fine?” Eva asked.
“No one!”  Marco waved his hands.  “I mean everyone!  Everyone was fine.  So don’t worry about it.”
I made eye contact with Eva.  Yep, right back to the feeling we were the nerds being tolerated by the cool kids’ table but not allowed in on the joke.
“Tobias is right,” Cassie said.  “We’re wasting time with this discussion.  The chee are well-hidden enough that we couldn’t find them if we tried.  And even if we did they wouldn’t help.”
“You can’t even ask,” Eva said tiredly.  “You don’t think it would be worth trying to ask for help.”
“They can look like anyone.”  Marco did look genuinely apologetic now.  “Anything.  Trees, rocks, the wall behind them.  They don’t want to be found, and so we’re never going to find them again.”
“Okay.”  Jake ran a hand over his face.  “Okay.  An illusion is a dead end.  We’re on the right track, though.  How else could we get a, um, a yeerk-eating-thing?”
“Varanx,” I provided.  “And we even if we had one for real, it’d just eat Rachel’s brain right along with the yeerk.”
“So that idea’s a bust, but…”  Jake looked around the table.  “But…”
<Is there another way to get it out by force?> Tobias threw in.  <Brain surgery, something like that.>
I winced.  I knew of 10 or 12 people who’d had yeerks removed by force.  Two had survived.  One was in a vegetative state, and the other was, well... Spacey Gervais.  Who lived up to his name.
“Is there anyone among our allies qualified to perform brain surgery?”  Ax looked at Jake.  “Your father, perhaps?”  Then he twisted to look at Cassie.  “Or yours?”
“Not on a human,” Cassie said, even as Jake shook his head.
“That’s also likely to be a dead end.”  Eva was leaning more heavily against the wall, but glared at me when I tried to nudge my empty chair over to her.  “Human brains are strange, and poorly understood by humans and yeerks alike.”
<Rachel’s a morpher.>  Tobias looked from Eva back to Cassie.  <She can heal from any amount of damage that doesn’t kill her instantly.>
“Or leave her comatose,” Cassie said.  “Or otherwise unable to make a mental image of an elephant and then will her body to become that.  And I don’t think Ben Carson himself could get an entire yeerk loose without taking apart most of the host brain as well.”
“No surgery.”  Jake rested both hands on the table, closing the discussion.  “No varanx, real or imaginary.  It seems like we keep coming back to persuasion as the best way to get it out.”
I hated persuasion.  Because I had an idea for persuasion, and I was going to pitch it to the group when hell froze over.
Hell froze over… or Rachel’s life was on the line.
I sighed.  “Yeah.  Fine.  I’ll do it.”
Cassie looked up at me.  “Do what?”
86 notes · View notes
hebuiltfive · 8 months
Text
Sunday Snippet!
I've been working on some background to this WIP (What Should Have Stayed Buried) and, well ... Sorry. This whole story is going to put Scott through the wringer, but this snippet? This is only a fraction of it all, I think. It's nowhere near perfect yet, as it's still a WIP, but enjoy... kinda.
Trigger warnings for heavy angst content, mentions of torture (both mental and physical), abuse and captivity, and... just general pain. It's not intense but I'm covering my bases, just in case.
They were never getting out. They were never going to be free. No matter what he told his wingman in those moments of innate darkness, he still knew that tidbit of truth within this world of falsehoods and deceptions. This was their new forever, an infinite span of bleak desolation with no shortage of nightmare fuel to have them all burdened with sleepless nights.
Sometimes his personal nightmares strayed far away from the holding cell, to the embraces from warm bodies and whispers of admiration and love from brothers during cold, winter nights. To the scent of fresh lavender and aviation fuel that were synonymous with parents who cared. To the crunch of burnt cookies along with high tea, a combination that should have had the hostess politely turning away Grandma's offerings (though she never did), her puppy yapping up at him from the ornate rug beneath his feet.
Those moments in the dreams were a nice reprieve, a fairytale he could hold onto whilst the real memories ebbed and flowed from his psyche during the day. But, as nightmares usually tended to do, they often strayed from from that pleasing imagery and blended with the hellish reality he was currently living in. That picture perfect life of an heir with a promising future was unceremoniously crushed beneath heavy, steel-toe capped boots, and the culprit, customarily only certain captors he found particularly revoltingly cruel, stared him down with slimy, smug smiles, crushing the dreams of the could have beens, and probable would have beens, had he just paid more attention on that fly-by.
There was no room for what ifs in this hellhole, though. There was no time to dwell on what could have been. There were only dull recollections of the past, a heart weighed down with regrets and an unending amount of self-loathing that began building as a result.
Stern guards, who came to collect him for the day's torment, tugged and pushed him around as though he was a ragdoll, uncaring when he would fall to the cold ground, knees cracking at the unforgiving concrete surface. He always tried to hide any weaknesses but, with the lack of calories in his system from the lack of food, and the lack of any decent sleep for a variety of reasons, of which none were pleasant, sometimes the frailty showed. Sometimes, when his legs buckled beneath him, he couldn't do anything but let it happen. The incarcerators would laugh and jibe, and then happily humiliate him more in some cases because the Great Captain Tracy had been broken so easily.
16 notes · View notes
musicalhistorical · 8 months
Text
The Opera Ghost
Because the Fate series left me severely disappointed, I made up lore for a Phantom of the Opera servant who I could say would be a boon to any Master's lineup.
.............................
Name: The Opera Ghost
Rarity: Five Stars, due to his relative elusive nature in the novel and other adaptations, it is extremely difficult to summon this version of the Phantom of the Opera.
Aliases: Erik, Angel of Music, The Red Death, The Phantom of the Opera
Alignment: Chaotic-Neutral
Class: Assassin-class
Appearance: Attire typical of a mid-Victorian gentleman; dark cloak, wears a dark wig with a black domino mask that covers most of his face save for his mouth. Where a sword would traditionally be, his punjab lasso is for easy access. Strengths: A master of trap doors and secret passages, he will rarely have to appear and directly kill those unlucky enough to run afoul of him. He's cunning, manipulative, and tactical; using his brilliant genius in order to get people to do his bidding. He is not above using bribery, threats, or even occasional torture if needed. He is also brilliant with a rapier; should the need arise, there is a possibility that he could be summoned as a saber-class servant, but it is generally admitted that the assassin class is better suited for his strengths.
Weaknesses: He can be blinded by possession; almost suffocating in his desire for human contact. Having been denied the basic comfort and warmth of a mother's care in childhood, he now seeks it where he can. Those who summon him must also contend with his jealous outbursts. On occasion, he will slip up and call his master, no matter the gender, the "reincarnation of his beloved Christine" or even outright call them by the name of the beautiful soprano. Assassin-Class Abilities: Unlike most servants (exception being an archer-class servant), assassins are capable of going long distances away from their masters; this is a huge advantage among the class because they are able to sneak around and get away with a lot without putting their master in harm's way.
His other, specific skills include...:
Serenade of the Damned: A song that is as horrifying as it mesmerizing, and any opponents who hear it find themselves frozen with fear. They are paralyzed for one round, or an hour or more, depending on how close they were. Guidance from the Angel of Music: A skill that works only when the phantom is at the end of a lineup; if he is at the very end of a specific lineup, then all allies receive the following benefits: buffs for stamina, attack, defense, and their noble phantasm's success rate increases, plus they receive a debuff resist of about 40% for up to five rounds. However, any allies who might be behind the phantom of the opera are cursed instead of receiving the boon, which diminishes their health slightly every round. This is due to his face and deformities.
The Lonely Wail of the Devil's Child: More effective the less health the opera ghost has, this wail is worse than Serenade of the Damned because this wail will instantly stun all opponents and temporarily seal their noble phantasms. This is incredibly useful against powerful bosses.
Noble Phantasm: The Opera Ghost and His Magical Lasso
Type: Anti-Unit
Buster, Quick, or Arts: Arts
Description: Using his environment to his advantage, the Opera Ghost sneaks around, weaving in and out of his opponent's view. When they least expect it, he drops his garrotte-his magical lassso-around their throat and tightens. Any non-servants are decapitated, and any divine beings or servants experience discomfort and about a 30% chance of experiencing instant death. The noble phantasm also increases the Opera Ghost's influence over the entire enemy party and those who weren't targeted by the attack are stunned for two turns and are unable to use noble phantasms or skills.
Card Deck: Arts, Arts, Buster, Quick
Appearance:
Tumblr media
genuinely my favorite fan-made fate character I've had the pleasure of designing.
@azulashengrottospiano i genuinely want to know your thoughts I'm unbelievably proud of this concept
12 notes · View notes
chopper-base · 8 months
Text
TBBAW SNEAK PEAK SATURDAY: DAY 5
Sneak peak into Day 5 for TBB Appreciation Week! @tbb-appreciation-week
MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 FINALE
Prompts: whump/hiding face in neck/"I'll keep you safe"
Crosshair awoke to a sharp ache, a pained groan slipping past his lips. He took a shaky breath, a migraine quickly forming. It was no surprise when he realized he couldn’t move, restraints tightly bound over his wrists and ankles. He knew it was only a matter of time before Hemlock or one of his assistants noticed he had regained consciousness. It was a hellish routine. Every second the sniper was awake, he was being probed and prodded, a rat for them to use however they pleased.
“Crosshair?” A small voice whispered his name and Crosshair hoped to the Maker he was hallucinating. “Crosshair, it’s Omega. Can you hear me?”
Maker, kriff it all…
I was actually working on this one prior to finding out about the appreciation week and it just fit so perfectly.
And like with all my other stories, there is a tag list if you would like to be added!!!
11 notes · View notes
exquisiteagony · 6 months
Text
whumptober day 2
5 notes · View notes
Text
Cinderella Moment
@flufftober day 4 Cinderella Moment Garvez 1,317 words of wump and fluff *not the typical rags to riches Cinder moment* In which Penelope discovers what made Luke the man he is and realizes they may have more in common than she ever thought.
It wasn’t some big dramatic gesture, it wasn’t some obvious visual change, it wasn’t anything at all…but her. And him. And that. The story. 
The story that broke her heart. 
And tore down the canvas of his perfectly painted veneer, transforming him before her very eyes.
“Go on, I give you carte blanche. I know you haven’t done it, even after all this time. Look me up, find my secrets, Penelope.” It was an invitation, an opening. There were things in his past he…never brought up. Things that didn’t feel right, but things that explained so much and he wanted her to know, needed her to see him. See all of him. 
-15 years old, dad dead. Called to duty for Desert Shield. Not many deaths in the grand scheme of things, but a major one in the scheme of a teenage boy. Not a month later, sister kidnapped…tortured…murdered. The clipping stated she didn’t often walk home alone, but that this day she happened to be. Crime of opportunity-  
Penelope looked at him in crushed horror, unsure what to say. Luke wasn’t one for talking about his personal life, let alone his family, beyond a joke here or there. The closest anyone got was meeting Phil, her meeting Lisa… but even that wasn’t his choice. And now here he was giving her permission to see this painful thing. This horrible thing. To know it and understand. He was entrusting her with this very secret part of himself. 
Luke pulled out the extra chair she kept in her office, “It was me” he started weakly, “It was my fault. I was…so mad. Mad at him for leaving us. Mad at my mother, mad at my grandmother, mad at popi. I just lost my dad and they all expected me to suddenly take on this role. Be this big, strong, reserved, protector.
‘A Man’
I wasn’t allowed to…miss him. Express my feelings. I felt trapped and confused, frustrated, and angry. I was mad that I had to walk with her. That she got to cry, and miss him, and…that I couldn’t. 
“You are the man now, hijo,” like I was ready for that. Like I didn’t have the same feelings that needed worked through on top of everything else going on in my life. 
I couldn’t focus in class, I felt estranged from everyone, I wasn’t turning anything in…then one day I decided to skip. After lunch I walked out the doors of our high school without a word. It’s funny, even then, I knew if I acted like I was supposed to be doing it, no one would stope me. And I left. Went to the river. I threw rocks, and the rain fell and I cried, and yelled, letting my tears mix with the raindrops and my wails melt into the wind. 
I was gonna go back, I was going to wait for her when school ended, but I lost track of time… and when I got back to school, no one was there, so I went home thinking she left without me. But she wasn’t there either. 
But the police were. Not enough time had passed to make a report, but as far as my mother was concerned her husband was dead and her two kids were missing. Dad’s captain took her distress seriously, looking out for the widow of one of their own. 
Seeing the cops, I was panicked and scared. I thought I was going to be in so much trouble. For skipping, for not being with her. It was my fault. It was my duty.Iwas supposed to take care of her, look out for her…
The evening stretched into night, turned into day. Three days. They searched for for her for three days. 
My mother wouldn’t even look at me. 
The sound she made when the call came in…They asked her if there was anyone else who could identify the body. They knew. 
I needed to do right, I needed to make it up to her. To him. To all of them. I let everyone down, if I could tell them with confidence this wasn’t her, she was still out there, she was just lost, we would find her…
But it was her... As unrecognizable as she was… what he did to her. 
From that point on I made myself as agreeable as possible. I was early to school, I was home every day on time, I kept the house clean, and did my homework and didn’t make a fuss, and I tried to anticipate what everyone would need. I was strong. And I was stoic. I was a man. And when graduation came I joined the Army, and then I became what they needed. And when I got out, I joined the FBI and worked on tracking down criminals…and then I met the BAU 
I told Rossi I wasn’t his guy, I was a manhunter, I was no good in an office…but really, I wasn’t sure I was ready. To face the things I knew you all saw every day. If there was even one case that looked like her…I’d become obsessed finding him. I’d want to track him down, hurt him. I told Hotch I wanted to kill Cullen for what he did, and that was my partner. My brother. But not my blood. What would I do if the man who killed my sister came across my desk? I’d make it right. I wouldn’t be able to stop. I wouldn’t stop. I’d fix it… I couldn’t go back, but I could fix it.”
She watched as he blinked the tears away. Even now shoving those emotions down. And then it made sense. All of him. Every bit of Luke. His character, his behavior, how there was this dark streak, how there was this playful little boy that would pop out from time to time, how he took on everyone else’s problems and challenges and made himself as helpful as possible and needed to be everyone’s champion. 
He blamed himself, was told it was his fault. Was living a life of correcting that one moment, a moment he didn’t do. Mentally flogging himself for 30 years, but he was 15, a kid, he wasn’t responsible for the actions of some sick adult. 
Penelope rose, then stooped in front of him, stern, “Luke Alvez, don’t you dare blame that hurt boy for the actions of some twisted sick individual. It was not your fault. It is not your fault.” She understood. She understood better than anyone might. The guilt that kind of situation lays on you, even without someone blaming you outwardly, you blame yourself, and poor Luke, he was literally blamed. She was looking up at him, her hands holding his, his eyes tired, sad, sunken. So broken, so un-Luke-like.
“Penelope, I know, but if I had just been there, if I hadn’t-“
“No.” She cut him off firmly, hand letting go, softly framing his face, thumb tenderly soothing a cheek. “There is no ‘but’, you were a child. You were hurt. He did that. You cannot take on the weight of someone else’s actions. You know that. You can’t say what would or wouldn’t have happened. Luke Alvez, you’re too good for that.  You are a good man. You are a good person.” As she said it, Penelope stood, pulling him up with her, hugging him tightly, her face smooshing into his chest, lips just over heart. Her brow furrowed with her own bitter regret, regret that it took this to make her see, that it took this long. 
As tight as Penelope was hugging him, Luke squeezed back double, desperate to keep her close, that this admission wouldn’t send her running. And as he did, he could have sworn he felt the glide of her lips, the jump of her jaw, of Penelope whispering I love you.
5 notes · View notes