#reader whump

[whatthetumblfck]

I Was Born Ready

Summary: You're kidnapped on a mission gone wrong and it only gets worse. You eventually escape, but will Bucky and the team see you the same way?

Word Count: 6517

Warnings: swearing, some injuries, angst, whump

Content: Bucky x reader, Y/N, Avengers, whump, kidnapping. All of my fics are self-indulgent.

Please don't claim my work as your own, but feel free to reblog.

You wiped the sweat from your brow.  As far as you could tell, it had been 5, maybe 6, days since you were taken. You knew what HYDRA were doing. They were trying to break you. You adjusted your legs and shifted your weight in the dark, cramped space.  For the last several hours, you had been locked in some sort of box, just big enough to crouch or sit with crossed legs. It was hot as hell and you’d been sweating profusely, wondering how much longer you would last before passing out from dehydration or dying from heat stroke. But you tried not to worry about it. They will come for you soon. He will come for you. You just need to hang on a little while longer.

               A few more hours had passed, and the heat was suffocating. What little strength you had left was dwindling. You rested your head against the wall of the enclosure and closed your eyes, fighting the nauseating dizziness that threatened to overcome you.  The rattling of chains caught your attention. It seemed like the sound was getting closer. It was then you realized you had drifted- asleep? Unconscious? You weren’t sure, but you fought like hell to focus your attention on what was happening right outside your tiny prison. Suddenly, there was a sharp creak of metal and cool light flooded the box. You squinted your eyes, desperate to see what was going on.

“Get up!” a harsh voice demanded.

Your body shook as you tried to stand, but it was no use. You were too weak and dehydrated.

“GET UP!” they shouted angrily, as if that would provide the strength needed to undo the last several hours of torture.

Instead, your body gave up completely and you slumped inside the box. The next thing you registered was the sensation of a cool breeze on your face and the tops of your feet scraping along concrete as they dragged you by your arms back to your cell.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“The fuck you mean it’s abandoned?” you whispered.

“I mean, I’m not picking up any heat signatures inside the building,” Sam clarified, adjusting Redwing’s controls just to be sure.

Bucky lowered his chin, smiling to himself. He knew you were always looking forward to a fight.

“All right, until we clear it, we’re going to proceed with caution,” Steve began, “Y/N and Bucky, you’re going to enter the south side of the building. Sam and I will cover the north entrance. Position Redwing on the east to detect movement from the access road. Once it’s clear, we set the charges and evacuate.”

You stole a sideways glance at Bucky and tried to hide your excited smile. You loved working with Bucky; you consider him to be your best friend. You felt like there might even be more there too. But you never pushed him. If being friends was all he wanted, then you would be happy with that.  Bucky was mostly quiet and reserved, but sometimes he would open up to you, tell you about his life before the war. Sometimes, but very rarely, he would reveal the horrors HYDRA inflicted upon him. You couldn’t respond; only listen in sickened contempt. Your hatred for them became personal because of what they put him through, but you also began to piece together how they operate, their torture methods, and their twisted thought processes. You filed away this information little by little, to use against them and one day, take them down. It became your personal mission, why you were so eager to take on HYDRA related missions, and so disappointed when they turned out to be flops.

Your thoughts were interrupted by an elbow gently nudging your arm. “You ready?” Bucky said as your eyes met his.

“I was born ready,” you replied, smugly.

Bucky smiled at your enthusiasm, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was tired of fighting, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to watch HYDRA burn to the ground. Having you fight beside him, though, was a double-edged sword. He enjoyed your company more than he let on, but he also worried for your safety.  He always asked Steve to pair you two together as much as possible on missions (so he could keep an eye on you), and he always received a knowing look in return. You were one of the best fighters Bucky had ever seen, but you could also be impulsive. Most of the time, you managed to compensate for this flaw and come out on top in the fight, but there have been quite a few close calls. Too close for Bucky’s comfort, even if you insisted you had everything under control.

“After you then,” Bucky said, gesturing to the south entrance.

“Such a gentleman,” you flirted, even though your tone was a bit condescending. You didn’t miss the fact that Bucky liked to keep an eye on you. It was obvious, the way he stuck by your side for every mission. It was sweet, but completely unnecessary.

Entering the building was uneventful. As you looked around, you took note of all the dust and debris, the result of what must have been years of no use. Maybe Sam was right, it must be abandoned. What a waste of time. You continued your sweep, clearing each derelict room.

“Second and third floors are clear,” Sam’s voice sounded in your comm.

“Well, aren’t you an over-achiever?” you responded mockingly.

“Y/N, Buck. What’s your status?” Steve asked, attempting to maintain professionalism on the mission. Captain Steve didn’t know how to have fun. Killjoy.

“First floor is clear, heading to the basement now,” Bucky reported, shooting you a ‘behave yourself’ look. You stuck your tongue out at him and ran for the stairwell.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Come on! There’s nothing here. Let’s clear this moldy-ass basement so we can blow it up and get home. I’m starving!” you announced.

Bucky caught up with you and roughly grabbed your elbow to pull you back.

“We need to be careful. This is HYDRA we’re dealing with. You need to take this seriously.”

You ripped your arm from his grasp, offended he would be so rough with you. “This isn’t HYDRA. This isn’t anything. There’s literally nothing here.”

Bucky schooled his expression. He didn’t want to be angry with you, but your recklessness could put everyone in danger. He let out a frustrated sigh, putting his hands on your shoulders and lowering his head to look into your eyes.

“Will you please be more careful? For me?”

You were momentarily stunned by the soft cadence of his voice. But quickly regathered your thoughts.

“Bucky, I am being careful. You need to lighten up.” You shrugged out of his grasp and turned back to the stairwell.

What is with everyone today? The super-soldiers are being super-serious. Even Sam seems like a stick in the mud, definitely not his usual, talkative self. Did you do something to offend them? You thought about the events of the last few days and couldn’t think of anything out of the ordinary. Definitely nothing that would explain what everyone’s problem is.

You glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky a few paces behind you as you descended the last of the stairs and reached the basement.

“Well, I didn’t think it was possible, but this looks even more abandoned than the first floor,” you said giving Bucky a pointed look.

“Just keep your eyes open for anything suspicious.” Bucky gently brushed past you to take the lead, advancing down the corridor. He had an uneasy feeling he just couldn’t shake.

“Suspicious?” you remarked sarcastically. “This whole mission is suspicious. What are we fighting here? The cobwebs? The ridiculous amount of dust?” You pushed past Bucky to take the lead again, but when you glanced back, you realized he had stopped. He was looking at you with wide eyes; his expression, one you didn’t recognize.  

“What? What is it?” you asked, concern growing in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re right. Nothing about this is right. There’s too much dust. Our source indicated there was activity here less than a year ago. It shouldn’t look like this.”

You looked around nervously. “Maybe the source was wrong.”

“Not likely…”

Unexpected static in the comms made you jump. You could hear Steve’s voice, but it kept breaking up and you couldn’t understand what he was saying until you made something out very clearly that made your blood run cold.

Pull back……’s a trap…--t out…ABORT!

Your eyes locked with Bucky’s. You froze. He was standing about 10 feet from you when you both registered a rapid clicking noise, like a sped-up clock.

“RUN!!” You heard him yell just before the explosion.

The wall behind you erupted, sending you several yards through the air until you collided with the ground. You could feel the heat and unbearable pressure on your back as you lay prone in the ruins. Dust swirled around you. After several moments of trying to remember how to breathe again and process what the hell had just happened, you remembered that Bucky was with you. You glanced over in his direction, but all you could see was a literal wall of rubble, fire, and smoke. You struggled to focus your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that were forming. Damn, that hurt.

Distantly, you could hear someone calling your name.

“Buck--,” your voice was cut off by a coughing fit as the dust invaded your lungs. “Bucky…” you tried again.

“Y/N?” he sounded closer. You could hear movement, crumbling concrete. “Are you hurt?”

It was at this point, you realized you should probably take a moment to figure out the damage.

“Y/N??” his voice sounded more concerned, more urgent. You weren’t sure how long you had taken to respond.

“Uhh…I….I think I’m okay……I can’t move. I think…ahh…there’s something on my back,” you choked out.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’re coming to get you. Just..hang on, okay? Hang on.”

Hearing this made you relax. Getting blown up was exhausting. You were certain you were going to hear about this later. About how you should have listened to Bucky, been more careful, taken the mission more seriously. You closed your eyes, trying to reserve your strength. You would need it to climb out of this burning hole in the ground.

After a few minutes, you felt the pressure on your back lessen. That was fast. You opened your eyes and tried to focus on Bucky’s face, but then you heard his voice from behind the burning wall of concrete. Confused, you concentrated your attention on the blurry figure standing before you. HYDRA. You gathered all your strength, trying to fight, but you couldn’t get a single hit in before a blow to your face rendered you unconscious.

Bucky heard footsteps and scraping rocks on the other side of the barrier. He had finally managed to make a dent in the rubble just large enough to see through. To see you being dragged away by HYDRA.

“NOOOO!” Bucky frantically slammed his metal fist into the rubble, trying to break through, but it was no use. He couldn’t get to you in time. He watched as you disappeared into the dust and smoke.

You were freezing. Another week had passed, maybe two. You weren’t sure. It was the same thing. Over and over.  Freezing to the point you couldn’t move or think. Then they would throw you in the box again until you passed out from the heat. You didn’t even know what they wanted. They didn’t ask you anything, barely said three words to you. Wouldn’t answer any of your questions. How the hell did they expect to get information out of you if they didn’t fucking ask you anything? Idiots. You’d be glad to give them as much false information as you could muster.

You were frustrated. Frustrated with this pointless torture and frustrated that no one had broken you out of this shithole yet. What was taking so long?

The next day was new. This time a man in a lab coat came into your cell. Based on the history of everything you have come to know about HYDRA, the lab coat is not a good sign.  He peered down at you where you sat against the cold, concrete wall.

“She’s ready,” he practically drooled with excitement. Disgusting.

Two oversized goons entered your cell and brought you to your feet as another ganglier looking goon wheeled in a stretcher. Your stomach dropped. Not good. This is not good. You tried not to let anxiety and fear get the best of you. You’ve endured the heat, the cold, the physical pain and the repulsive goop they fed you, but this was new, and you had no idea what they had planned.

“No. No no no. What are you doing?” You kicked and fought weakly as they strapped you down. You were unable to move.

Lab coat leaned in close to your face. You could smell the wicked stench rolling out of his mouth.

He simply answered, “Phase two.”

……..

“What do you want? You’ve been torturing me for weeks and haven’t asked me a damn thing! Do you even know how this works? No? Must have missed that day in torture 101.”

The lab coat stopped what he was doing and turned to face you. Amusement and almost pity plastered on his face.

“My dear. I haven’t been torturing you. I’ve been preparing you.”

…………

The first injection must have been a sedative and, for that, you were thankful. Your vision became blurry and all your muscles relaxed at once. You could’ve almost fallen asleep. Until the second injection. At first, it was cold, like ice running through your veins. Starting in your arm and flowing through your chest before settling in the rest of your limbs. It was enough to make you shiver and shake uncontrollably. With the last injection came the unbearable heat. It spread through you like wildfire, burning through the sedative and blistering your nerves. It coursed through your body, the agonizing flames filling your skull, threatening to split it open. It was too much. Unbearable. You thrashed your arms and legs beneath the restraints, screaming until you went hoarse. Nothing you did relieved the pain, the burning.  You were left alone in your misery, knowing nothing but the searing pain in your head, threatening to end your life. You hoped it would.

Then, it stopped. You thought maybe death had finally taken you and you felt sadness, for Bucky. For the team. But you were back in your cell. This couldn’t be death. Death isn’t this cruel.

You rolled on your side and slowly sat upright, fighting off the dizziness. You felt horrible, like you should be dead, but at least the pain had subsided. You experimentally staggered to the door of your cell and peered through the slot. It was eerily silent. Still, you waited to see if anyone approached. They almost always did when you awoke to send you for another round of torture…or wait. What did he say? They were preparing you..for what? The injections, ice and fire, the pain, all came flooding back to you. What did they do? Your breaths came faster. You had to get out of there. Fear and panic were in control now. You pushed and pulled at the door feverishly, and to your surprise, the door opened. Worried this was another trap, you stepped back, but no one came. What the fuck?

You left your cell and made your way down the hallway, searching for the exit or at the very least, a weapon. The building was completely cleaned out. They left you there, their experiment. Did they think you were dead? Or just a failure? You didn’t feel any different. Those HYDRA morons must have been bigger fucking idiots than you gave them credit for. Still, you weren’t going to stick around. When you finally made it out of the building, you realized you actually recognized the area. You weren’t that far from the compound. It made you sick to think you were only 10 or so miles from home this whole time, and still, they couldn’t find you. HYDRA could have practically walked up and rang the front doorbell, and the team would have had no idea.

It was cold outside and you were dressed only in a thin gown. You walked for hours, determined to make it home. You had no way of contacting anyone. You were surrounded by a few trees and fields of nothing. The final yards leading up to the compound were grueling. You were exhausted. Your feet bled and your legs shook with the effort.

It was early evening, you guessed, when you painfully stumbled into the common room, where Steve, Bucky and Sam all sat, attention focused on various maps and blueprints laid out before them. Steve saw you first, eyes staring and mouth hanging open. It would have been humorous had you not just been through hell and back. Bucky stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Steve’s expression and turned his head to see what Steve was staring at.

“Y/N??” Bucky couldn’t believe it. His eyes ran over your battered form, watching your whole body shake with fatigue.

You didn’t know what to say. You tried to choke back the tears that were now streaming down your face.

But this was all you could handle. You were suddenly dizzy, the room had started to spin and you dropped to your knees as Bucky ran towards you.

“Oh God! Call Dr. Cho!” Bucky ordered, but Sam was already on it.

You collapsed into Bucky’s arms and saw Steve running toward you. Bucky’s alarmed face was the last thing you saw before your eyes involuntarily closed.

When you awoke the next day, you were alone in the med bay. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to force out the lingering headache. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and were about to remove your IV when Bucky walked into your room.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said as he approached you cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

“Um..really..hungover,” you cracked a smile trying to break the tension. “How long was I out?”

Bucky looked at his watch before responding, “About 23 hours.”

“Oh shit. New record.”

Bucky looked nervous. “We looked everywhere..”

“Not everywhere,” you retorted, sounding more bitter than you intended.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“Well…that makes two of us.” Your eyes stayed trained on the floor. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You spent weeks dreaming about seeing him again, and now you couldn’t even look at him. Why? Were you that angry that they couldn’t find you? They were obviously looking.

Bucky sensed that maybe this wasn’t the best time to broach the subject, so he changed it.

“So..uh…they want to do a debriefing on what happened as soon as you’re feeling well enough.”

You faltered. You didn’t want to talk about it, relive it. Especially so soon. But you’d rather get it over with so you can move on with your life. Put the whole ordeal behind you.

You looked down at the IV in your arm before ripping it out, the blood beginning to trickle down to your palm.

“Doll—what are you doing?” Bucky lunged toward you, grabbing gauze off the bedside table to apply pressure to the site.

You grabbed the gauze and took over applying pressure.

“I’m about to change my clothes,” you began glancing around the room before finding some in a bag below the bed, “so unless you want to see me naked, you can turn around.”

Bucky paused, mouth opening slightly before regaining his composure and turning to face away from you. You caught him off guard, which is honestly, something you’ve never seen happen.

You were a little disappointed. Maybe you’d been reading him wrong, and he doesn’t see you that way. Or maybe he’s just being a gentleman. This isn’t exactly the best time to explore your feelings for one another. Still, it stung.

………………………..

You sat at the table, nervously glancing at all the faces in the room. Fury, Tony, Steve, and Sam all had their eyes on you. Everyone except Bucky. He stood in the corner, holding his gaze to the floor.  He looked more nervous than you felt. Weird.

They asked their usual questions, and you answered as best you could. But you didn’t feel comfortable enough to go into extensive detail. You trusted these men with your life, but it was starting to feel less like a debriefing and more like an interrogation.

“…and you’re sure that’s all you remember?” Fury asked again.

You looked around the room again, each set of eyes seeming frustrated. Expecting more information than what you’ve provided for the last 2 hours. This was exhausting. A familiar headache was building behind your eyes, and you were beyond done with this.

When you didn’t answer right away, Tony asked another question. “They just let you walk away?” You could hear the blatant skepticism.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Tears were starting to fill your eyes. Damnit! This is not how you thought this would go, but you were feeling pressured, overwhelmed. “They tortured me! For weeks! The same damn thing. Over and over and over again! And I don’t know---maybe they thought I was DEAD!” You choked on a sob; tears streaming down your face now.

“Okay! That’s enough!” Bucky interjected, seemingly ending the questioning.

You quickly stood from your seat and rushed out of the room.

They all exchanged glances and Bucky lingered there silently for a moment before following you.

When he reached your room in the compound, he knocked, but you didn’t answer.

“Doll. It’s me. Can I come in?”

Again, you didn’t answer. He could hear your quiet cries. He tried the handle, but you had locked the door.

“Can you unlock the door, please?”

“Go away, Bucky,” you said, softly. You didn’t need to yell. You knew he could hear you.

“Come on. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” With that, he could hear you moving towards the door.

You angrily flung the door open, surprising Bucky and forcing him to take a step back. Your hair was disheveled, eyes red and still wet with tears.

“Do I look fucking okay to you!?!?” Bucky looked into your eyes, not knowing what to say.

“HYDRA imprisoned me, practically in our own fucking backyard and still no one came for me!”

“Y/N, I swear to you, we never stopped looking—”

“And as soon as I fight my way back here, you all grill me for information, like it was my fucking idea to get captured?”

“Doll, no one thinks this was—”

“I waited for—aagh—” the pain in your head suddenly flared. You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the skin between them. Your discomfort was evident.

“Hey, hey. What is it? What’s wrong?” Bucky’s worried eyes searched your face for answers.

You tried to recover, to push the pain aside.

“I waited for you—AAGH” the pain peaked. The same blistering heat threatening to end you, keeled you over.

With your shaking hands on your knees, you could feel Bucky move to your side. His arms wrapped around your waist to support you.

“Doll, what’s going on? Answer me. Please!”

But you couldn’t answer him. You were back on that stretcher. A prisoner, again. All you knew was the burning pain. Maybe this time, it would spare you the torment and claim your life.

“SOMEBODY HELP! I NEED HELP!” Bucky’s voice sounded far away.

The fire swirled in your skull and bile burned the back of your throat. You lurched forward, fell to your knees, and vomited on the floor. Everything was suddenly black, then nothing.

You awoke once more, alone, in the med bay.  Well, not completely alone. You could hear talking, whispers. Just outside your door.

There’s something she’s not telling me. But I’m not going to try to force answers out of her. She’ll come to me when she’s ready. I’m just going to be her friend. That’s what she really needs right now.

Just a friend? You felt the blanket of disappointment weigh on you again. You were pulled from your thoughts when Bucky opened the door.

You kept your eyes on him as he carefully entered the room.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Huh?”

“Who were you talking to just now?” You tried not to sound like you were accusing him, but you didn’t like being talked about behind your back.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Bucky shook his head, seeming to be genuinely confused.

Great. Now Bucky was lying to you. Some friend he’s trying to be. Even with him literally by your side, you were suddenly feeling very alone. No one trusted you. They think you’re hiding something. Truth be told, you are hiding something. You never told them about the injections, how the torture was actually “preparations”. You even left out the creepy lab guy coat because you were afraid. Afraid if they found out what really happened, that you were an experiment, they wouldn’t look at you the same way. You were afraid you would lose their hard-earned respect, your place on the team. You couldn’t risk it.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The pain? Passing out?” Bucky pressed, becoming serious. This felt like an interrogation again.

“Oh…it was just a headache,” you offered. Were you honestly expecting them not to ask?

“That’s bullshit. What happened to you? What did they do?” He seemed desperate and angry and you were becoming more and more guarded.

“I thought you weren’t going to force answers out of me.” You threw his words back in his face.

“What?”

“Nothing”

“What did you say just now?”

You were out of patience and just wanted to be alone. “Nothing. Please leave.”

Bucky stared at you, disbelieving, before turning his back on you and walking out the door.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. What the hell happened? Everything was fine. You were on a mission, business as usual, and then you were captured and tortured. You miraculously make it back home and suddenly, everyone is against you? You didn’t do anything wrong. Why is everyone acting like you’re at fault?  Your thoughts are becoming louder in your head, circling frantically and building tension. You clench your teeth, trying to hold in a scream, but you can feel an energy building inside you. You pull your knees to your chest, struggling to contain it. Your clenched fists pound at your temples. You don’t know what’s happening; you feel out of control, about to spill over. Explode.

Suddenly, you lose control, letting out an ear-piercing scream, releasing a force you had never felt before. All at once, glass bottles and cabinets shatter, the reinforced windows in your room crack. Furniture is thrown chaotically. Everything is broken, in a frightening disarray, and you’re left sitting in the ruins of what once felt like a safe place.

You tried to catch your breath, eyes darting around the room, attempting to make sense of what just happened.

Oh, God. Oh, God.  What did HYDRA do to you? What have you done? You needed to get out of there. Now. You jump to your feet, grab your clothes, and run. You shove past S.H.I.E.L.D. employees in the hallways, their thoughts intruding and overlapping with your own.  It took you a moment to realize what it was, what you were doing: unintentionally hearing their thoughts. You have to get away, get out. It’s too loud. You’re still running when you hear more familiar voices, but these aren’t in your head.

You can hear Bucky, Steve and Sam talking about what they found at the base where you were kept. Empty syringes. Medical equipment. Partially encrypted files describing some kind of experiment. They know—how could they not? Have they known this whole time?

“I don’t know what they did to her. She won’t tell me, but…she’s different.” Bucky spoke quietly.

Different? Is that how he saw you now? Is that why he’d been acting so strangely since you got back?

“Look man,” Sam reasoned, “she’s been through a lot. It would be weird if she wasn’t acting differently.”

“Still, if they did do whatever this experiment is on her, we don’t know what the outcome is…If she’s still herself, or even on our side,” Steve added.

Your heart dropped. You already felt like they didn’t trust you, which was bad enough, but now they’re against you? You waited for Bucky to defend you. He knows you better than anyone, but his silence spoke volumes. You thought Bucky, of all people, would understand what you’d been through. That you would never turn on them. You really were all alone in this. You felt the fear and uncertainty pouring out of the room.

Then, an unfamiliar voice on the intercom startled you.

Code Gray- Med Room 4. Code Gray- Med Room 4.

Shit. That was your room. Then the alarm started blaring and you ran. When did you become the enemy? How did this happen? You’re not part of HYDRA. You’re the victim. You managed to get out of the compound without anyone else seeing you. But you had no idea where to go from there.

Bucky, Steve, and Sam rushed to your med room. They stood there in disbelief, taking in the scene. It looks like a bomb went off.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure, sir. We, uh, heard a scream and when we got here, the room was empty,” a nurse answered.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, growing impatient.

“We don’t know, I’m sorry,” the nurse responded before quicky leaving the room.

Steve and Sam exchanged looks. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair.

“Buck….”

“No.”

“We need to consider all the facts, here.”

“No, Steve! She wouldn’t do this. She’s not HYDRA.”

“Dude, she was missing for weeks and then just waltzed through the front door? That doesn’t seem odd to you?” Sam added.

“She didn’t waltz, Sam. She could barely walk, then she collapsed,” Bucky defended.

“So you think they just let her go? When the hell has HYDRA ever just let anybody go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Her story isn’t adding up, Buck.”

“They did something to her, she’s different. I just don’t know why she’d hiding it.”

“What do you mean? What aren’t you telling us?” Steve questioned.

“I think….whatever they did to her, worked. I thought it was a coincidence, at first, but then…this,” he motioned around the room. “I think she could hear what I was thinking earlier, and I think this is part of whatever she’s going through. I think she’s enhanced.”

They all looked around the room, letting Bucky’s theory sink it.

Steve broke the silence. “We need to find her before she hurts someone.”

You were walking against the cold wind and found yourself back at the shithole. You weren’t sure what you were doing there. Looking for answers, maybe? Waiting for them to find you? Like they were supposed to do. Before the injections, before they turned on you, before you lost control. What did they think of you now? You’re certain they must think you’re HYDRA. Fear and despair surged through you, and you started to lose control again. Objects that surrounded you started to rattle and lift into the air, crashing into walls.

You saw movement from the corner of your eye, emotions flaring even further. They had found you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, wetting the front of your sweatshirt.  You had already lost everything. They may as well take you now and put you in whatever floating prison they have. They marked you as guilty the moment you walked back into the compound.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Bucky approached you slowly, motioning to Steve and Sam to hang back.

You slowly turned to face him. Finally seeing his face broke you, and you started to cry harder. The cot beside you rattled along with desks and shelves, lifting off the floor, quaking violently, erratically. Bucky held up his hands, gesturing to you that he meant you no harm. And you wanted nothing more than to believe him, to melt into his arms.

As your emotions ran wild with fear and anguish, the chaos around you swelled. You shook your head trying to empty it of the intrusive whispers. You were ready to surrender. You just wanted all this to be over, but when you looked past Bucky to see Steve and Sam in their full Avenger gear, a realization hit you. They were here to fight you. Bucky noticed the change in your demeanor. You felt the energy inside you intensifying again. The building began to tremble.

“Y/N. Y/N! Look at me! You’re going to be okay. We’re here to take you home.” Bucky tried to reason.

“No. NO! You’re here to hurt me. You don’t trust me, think I’m HYDRA!”

“That’s not true. We’re your friends. We want to help you,” Bucky insisted.

“Help me? That’s why you brought Captain America and Falcon with you?!”

You were angry now. If they wanted to take you, it would have to be by force. That’s what they wanted. You looked back over at Bucky and noticed the light reflecting off the tears that gathered in his eyes. You felt like you were about to detonate.

“Sweetheart, please,” Bucky pleaded with you; His hand stretched out towards you, beckoning you to take it.

The building shook even more violently with the release of your emotions. Once again, objects cracked and shattered all around you, but this time, the entire building threatened to come down on top of all of you.

“I can’t. I can’t control it….” You looked to Bucky, desperate for all this to end.

As dust and debris rained from the ceiling, you heard the order.

TAKE HER! NOW!

You whipped your head to the side, catching sight of Redwing; you hadn’t noticed it there before, but it was too late. Two darts struck your neck, delivering a powerful sedative. You swayed on your feet for only a moment before going down hard. All the objects flying around the room, uncontrollably, crashed to the ground at once. The building stood still once again. Whatever they hit you with was strong. You couldn’t move, but yet, you weren’t completely unconscious.  You could faintly hear distorted commotion around you and your eyes felt heavy.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky kneeled at your side to brush your hair from your face, wiping your tears in the process.

“I’m sorry, Buck. We had to. You heard her. She couldn’t control it.”

Bucky gently picked you up and held you close to his chest. You could tell he was walking, but your vision was starting to blur even more. Then you felt his breath on your ear as he whispered that you would be okay. You were safe now. They were going to fix this. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the darkness.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore, Bucky.”

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“Well, I can’t leave. That is the definition of prisoner, right?”

“Bruce thinks he’s close to a cure. He just needs a little more time.”

“You’ve been saying that for 3 weeks.”

Bucky offered you a half-hearted smile, but it was tainted with regret.

You were beginning to doubt their ability to fix you. Where would they even begin? You were just the result of another fucked-up half-assed HYDRA experiment.  They couldn’t cure you any more than they could cure Bucky or Steve of being super-soldiers. You know it. They know it. You just wish they’d stop blowing smoke up your ass.

Just then, Bruce appeared behind the reinforced glass doors, pressing his palm to the scanner to gain access to your room.

He approached your bed with the same half-hearted smile Bucky imparted.

“Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling today?” Bruce began, like he always did when starting his examinations.

“Fine. Normal. How’s the cure coming along?”

He hesitated for a moment, ignoring your question before continuing with his own.

“Any more headaches?”

“No. Not really.”

“Good, good. That’s good.” More hesitation.

“Just spit it out, Bruce.”

“Well, uh..” he fiddled with his clipboard, pretending to review his findings. “We did some genetic profiling and it looks like the experiment has altered your DNA in ways we’ve never seen before. Your brain scans are phenomenal.”

“That’s not exactly comforting….” You knew where this was going, even though you didn’t completely understand the science of it all.

“What does that mean?” Bucky leaned forward in his seat, prompting Dr. Banner to elaborate.

“Well, I’m afraid it means we can’t cure you.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair; the atmosphere in the room deflated. He didn’t even look at you. You knew this was coming but hearing it out loud and seeing Bucky’s dejected reaction only solidified your fears. There is no hope.

Dr. Banner continued, “The good news is that you seem to be adapting and stabilizing well.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You didn’t want to hear anything else. You weren’t even listening. All you can think about is how you’re no longer an Avenger and how Bucky won’t even look at you now. You lost him; your best friend, maybe more. Where do you go from here?

“I just have a few more questions for you,” Dr. Banner began again, “Are you still able to hear the thoughts of others?”

“Yes. But I can mostly block it out. It’s gotten easier.”

Dr. Banner smiled. “And there haven’t been any more incidents….” He held up his pen. “Can you move this towards you, please?”

You looked up from your lap and focused on the pen, gently floating it above the bed until it reached your grasp.

“Amazing…”

You wished Dr. Banner would be a little less enthusiastic. Your life, as you know it, is over and you’re not in the mood for this.

“Okay. I’m releasing you from my care.”

“Wait. What? When?” You stared at him in awe. Is he joking?

“Right now.” He gathered his notes and left the room, door unlocked.

You felt Bucky grasp your hand. His smile was bright as he waited for your thoughts to catch up.

“Come on. We have a mission,” he coaxed.

“I-I don’t understand,” you hesitated. “I didn’t think you wanted---I didn’t think anyone trusted me.”

“Sweetheart, we do trust you…and I’ll always want you. No matter what.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter. “We found the shitbags that took you…you ready to kick some ass?”

Your eyes lit up with excitement and determination. “I was born ready.”

#whump #avengers #bucky barnes #reader whump #bucky x y/n #female reader #reader insert #avenger reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america #winter soldier #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x reader #kidnapping tw #experimentation #falcon

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 6 (Extra Scene)

Part (6) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

There are two people in particular to blame for this chapter. You know who are are, and I love you for it.

Warnings: Big emotions in this - rage, guilt, blame, and the like. There do be a bit of fighting, but it's not gory. Brief description of water torture. Profanity

WC: 2,032

No one moved, breath nearly trapped in their chests as they watched the pair steadily make their way out of the hanger. Crosshair noted the stiffness in her movements, the slight hitch in her step, and his teeth ground at the certainty that her shoulder was only a small part of what she’d suffered.

“What the kriff did you do?!” He snarled at the group of regs still staring toward the now empty hallway. He’d half-expected Hunter or Echo to growl some half-hearted warning for him to back down, but they seemed just as eager for answers as he was, and the unspoken permission that granted him, the justification in loosing his rage on the remaining members of the 104th left him near shaking, face twisted with the full display of his fury.

“We followed our orders; just like she did… Things just… got complicated.” The one with the double oval on his forehead replied, and the dejection in his voice only worsened Crosshair’s anger.

“The hell does that mean?” His voice ground between gritted teeth, body innately taking a half-step forward.

“It means there were unforeseen circumstances that caused problems, and that you lot aren’t cleared to know anything more.” The clone bearing a wolf-head emblem said, not shying from the very real threat in the sniper’s posture as he tread forward to place himself pointedly between his men and the enraged squad before him.

“I don’t give a Sith’s tit about your mission. The kriff happened to her, and why didn’t any of you stop it?!” He spat, shoulders pulling back as he towered over the Sergent.

“No time.” Another reg replied gruffly from behind the telltale helm of a pilot. “When everythin’ went down, we were all too far away to do anything, an’ they had her whisked off to the other side of planet before we could reach her.”

“She was alone?!” Echo nearly shouted from behind him. Crosshair didn’t question Hunter’s silence thus far, assured that his brother was listening, calculating; that he could smell the cocktail of adrenaline filling each of them and was comparing their heart rates, their body language, the tension in their every taut muscle to figure out just how far they could be pushed before snapping, how much information they might glean from tongues loosened by shame and guilt.

“There wasn’t supposed to be any combat where she was.” The last one sighed, his head dropping toward his chest.

“Can’t help but notice not one of you has a damn scratch, so how’d she end up like that in a non-combat zone with you lot still looking like damn shinies?!” Cross shot back, disdain dripping from every word.

“That’s enough!” The pilot barked, moving stiffly forward to stand beside his brother. “Think you’re something special? That you’re all high and mighty just ‘cause you’ve got some damn crush? Well, how ‘bout we compare how many times she’s been hurt working with you than with us?!”

He nearly ignored the subtle shift of Hunter’s hand signaling him to back off, but caught himself mere heartbeats before throwing himself forward, fists clenched hard enough to shake.

“If you’re referring to combat ops, given the general nature of your missions, which tend toward community outreach and long-distance support, in addition to the fact that her most grievous injuries were caused directly by your commander’s intentional actions, statistically speaking, that comparison wouldn’t do much to support your argument.” The subtle note of annoyance in Tech’s retort was just enough to draw a huff of something too dark to be likened to laughter from Crosshair.

“Still haven’t given a reason why she was alone.” Wrecker’s voice was quiet, and that alone left Crosshair leaning slightly to the side lest he find himself between them should the massive clone decide he was done listening. “She’s a medic – can’t really do that if she’s not with you.”

“She wasn’t there as a medic.” The first reg explained wearily.

“Then why was she there? Why pull her from our unit at all?” Hunter asked, carefully masking his own anger with a feigned gentleness.

“Comet.” The Sergent called, helm shifting to stare pointedly at his brother. The silence that followed that warning only sought to fuel Crosshair’s ire while worsening the 104th’s collective remorse.

“We needed someone who could blend in with the Separatists.”

“Boost!”

The man who’d spoken drew a sharp breath at the reprimand in his brother’s tone, head snapping up to stare him down as he wrenched his helmet free.

“No! Dammit, Sinker, they should know what happened! You think needing to keep it a secret is going to do her any good?! Hell, that one’s clearly read plenty of our old mission briefs already!” Boost roared, hand snapping toward Tech. “Why the hell wouldn’t he read this one? The only difference between us telling them now and him reading about it later is how much time they’ll have to get their shebs ready to help her when she’s back.”

Despite his lingering urge to lash out, Crosshair found himself both quieted and unnerved anew at the man’s words, torn between wanting to berate them for their carelessness and appreciating Boost’s argument.

“I know…” Sinker replied, voice nearly breaking beneath the weight of remorse threatening to overwhelm him, “but that’s not our call to make.” Comet and the other one, the pilot, had both turned their attention from Crosshair and their brothers, as though waiting to see who’d cede first that they might be granted permission to speak freely.

“Then you go right ahead and report me, Sergent.” Boost spat.

“Our contact chose the location.” Sinker’s shoulders fell at Comet’s quiet whisper, but he offered no further dispute. “It was a gathering for high-ranking Separatists. The plan was her to get in, get a datachip, and monitor security while we broke into the gala’s database to get more info… get a little something extra for the effort. Apparently, our contact had ulterior motives, too. He planted a bomb. She got caught in the blast, and then she was blamed for it.”

Air hissed through Crosshair’s teeth; dread twisted through his chest at the knowledge of what a Separatist interrogation entailed.

“We got to her as quick as we could.” The pilot continued, arms crossing over his chest at the guilt clearly sown through his own words. “Beat up some guards, tracked all the outbound ships… finally had to hunt down the damn contact himself to figure out where they took her.” He didn’t need to look back to know his brothers stood as stiff as he did, waiting for that final blow of what exactly had happened.

“They had her for about eight hours.” Resigned, Sinker finally turned back to face him, movements weary as he also reached up to remove his helmet, and Cross couldn’t help but be slightly surprised to find that the man shared his silver hair color, a fact that instantly annoyed him further, but he held his tongue as he waited for the reg to continue. “We know she was unconscious most of that time, but when she woke up…”

“Enough with all the kriffin’ stalling. Just tell us wha’ happened.” Wrecker growled impatiently.

“She was drowned.” Comet stated bluntly, and Crosshair’s blood went cold. “They drowned her, brought her back, and waterboarded her trying to find out who was behind the explosion.”

He could feel his heart racing, felt his breath quicken, every thought screaming at him to fight, to forgo all fear of reprimand or consequence for the relief of even a moment’s outburst, because that was something he knew. He knew how to deal with the pain of raw knuckles and split lips. He knew the taste of disappointment his brothers would harbor in the aftermath of his rashness. He knew the sting of defeat and the empty pride of victory, and, in that moment, held no preference for either. He merely needed the distraction; that familiarity, because the ache in his chest, the way it threatened to cripple him and rend him into a frenzy too overcome with grief and guilt to think straight was something he didn’t know how to deal with, and that terrified him.

“I assume she’s been given appropriate treatment to prevent lung infections?” The emptiness in Tech’s voice robbed Crosshair of that lingering rage to which he’d been clinging, leaving him cold and void of the will to drag himself back to the forefront of a confrontation that no longer promised anything of the respite he’d longed for.

“Yeah.” Boost answered quietly. “She also has a burn on her calf… wrists and ankles got torn up from fighting the restraints… pretty sure that’s how she dislocated her shoulder, too. We got it all cleaned and bandaged, but… just keep an eye on it.” There. That last comment was all it took to rekindle his anger, and he grasped it like the fleeting lifeline it was.

“Think it’s pretty clear we don’t need your advice on how to keep her safe.” He drawled, head tilting just enough to portray the depth of his contempt.

“That’s it.” The pilot growled, throwing himself forward without further thought or warning. In that split second before they collided, Crosshair felt the very edge of his lips twitch up into a broken smile born of relief and ruined by a guilt he’d deal with later.

In an instant, everyone was shouting, and he thrived in that moment of chaos as the man’s fist crashed into his jaw. Already, several hands were grabbing for him, straining to wrench him back, but not before he landed his own strike, knee plowing into his stomach with enough force to wrench the air from his lungs despite the plates of heavy armor. Crosshair just managed a final punch to his assailant’s head before Wrecker forced himself between them, iron grip locked around the reg’s shoulder in a threat even the haughty pilot couldn’t feign ignorance to.

In the brief fray, he’d failed to notice the split second of distraction tear Hunter’s attention away from them, but he instantly froze as his brother hauled him near enough to whisper harshly into his ear.

“Cody commed me. It’s Doc.” Already, Hunter was pulling away from him, torn between ending the fight and answering the summons. “Don’t make things worse.” He added with a snarl forced into barely audible growl. Expression faltering into horrified dread, Cross merely nodded. Hunter didn’t hesitate before turning and dashing from the hanger, and then all Crosshair could hear was the heaviness of his own breathing, the way his heart pounded in chest beneath that rush of emotions resurging mercilessly in the wake of his vain attempt to escape them.

He glanced back to find his brothers studying him carefully, confusion clear in their eyes as they waited for some explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, not when the other squad stood watching him with that same attentiveness. Without a word, he merely nodded toward the hallway leading to their temporary bunkroom, sparing not so much as a glare back to the men he still sought to blame for all of this; for calling her away, for letting her get hurt, for reminding him just how easily he might lose her because of this Force-forsaken war.

He didn’t listen to the hushed voices of the 104th as he began walking away; barely let himself note the sets of footsteps voicing his own squad belatedly falling in line behind him. He couldn’t think beyond the fruitless need to know why Cody had called Hunter, what had happened in the debrief; mind demanding he find some means to force his way into that kriffing office in his brother’s stead, and his rage grew at the knowledge that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. All his training as a sniper, years of drilling the importance of patience into him, of forming that patience into a weapon honed to perfection; it was all useless against this, and he couldn’t keep himself from slamming his fist into the wall in a final fit of frustration as they neared the still foreign barracks.

Next Chapter

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[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

The Party

Jacinth Masterlist

Remember this post? Welp, I wrote it! At first I was going to use generic characters, but then I realized how well this scenario fits for Jacinth, so I quickly made the change!

Also, thank you to @lilywolfgray for helping me figure out the simile that pops up!

this one is a bit long, so I've put it under the cut!

The sound of Jacinth’s footsteps made Y/N stiffen in bed nervously.

“Wake up my little human,” Jacinth’s silvery voice cooed, “you’ve been napping long enough.”

Jacinth pulled the curtain of his and Y/N’s shared room aside, practically floating over to her. Y/N slowly sat up, her hands twisting the comforter draped over her.

“Have I told you what today is, hm?”

Y/N shook her head.

“It’s the Festival of Winter’s End,” Jacinth said with a gleaming smile, “and I’d like to bring you to the celebration. But first, I have to get you ready.”

Jacinth produced a small flower in his hand, its petals trembling from how much nectar it was filled with. Y/N knew exactly what that deceptively sweet liquid would do to her if she drank it. She looked at Jacinth with a pleading expression.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jacinth said, “drink this, won’t you? It tastes wonderful~”

When Y/N still didn’t drink, Jacinth took hold of her chin and tilted it up.

“Drink, Y/N,” he commanded gently.

As soon as Jacinth had said her name, Y/N felt her lips falling apart so the fae could pour the nectar into her mouth. Y/N swallowed, feeling the sweet, sticky liquid coat her mouth and throat.

“Very good,” Jacinth praised, “such an obedient human.”

Jacinth took Y/N’s hand and gently pulled her out of bed. He led her through the rooms of his abode to a little series of pools surrounded by soft moss. He sat her down next to one of them and positioned himself behind her. He took a small stone bowl and filled it with water from the pool. He poured the contents over her head, letting it soak into her hair. He picked up a vial and opened it, letting the fragrant contents cover her scalp. He started to work it into her hair, until a bubbly lather had formed. Once it was fully worked in, he rinsed it out with more water. All through the process, Y/N could feel her eyes getting heavy and her body going limp.

Jacinth went to remove Y/N’s dress next. When he had first taken her, he had gotten rid of those unsightly human clothes and replaced them with nicer, more appealing garments. He had barely gotten to the strap of the dress when Y/N attempted to shuffle away from him, her cheeks decorated with a red flush.

“Now now,” Jacinth said, “I have to wash you. Don’t be difficult.”

Y/N shook her head, screwing her eyes shut. Jacinth sighed.

“I forgot how sensitive you humans are,” he said, “I suppose we’ll just spot-clean.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but only a bit of slurred nonsense came out. Jacinth chuckled, then grabbed another vial. He poured the liquid inside onto a small wad of moss. He started to scrub Y/N’s skin until it was soft and clean. Y/N blinked slowly; the world started to tilt until she realized she had fallen against Jacinth’s chest.

“Aw,” Jacinth cooed, kissing her on her head, “how sweet.”

…

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was one minute, Jacinth was holding her amongst the mossy pools, then the next, she was blinking up at a series of lanterns hung along the trees. She heard the sound of chatter and music. She tried to sit up, but her body felt too heavy. Jacinth’s soft laughter rumbled behind her, and his face came into view.

“Finally awake, hm?” he mused, “I suppose I could’ve just asked you to sleep instead of feeding you the nectar… ah well.”

Another face came into view. It was another fae, with pointy ears, pink skin and deep, red eyes.

“Jacinth, is this your human?” she asked in awe.

“Indeed she is,” Jacinth replied with a smile.

“May we hold her?” a green fae asked.

Jacinth’s grip on Y/N tightened ever so slightly.

“She isn’t used to other fae yet,” he said, “but you can feed her if you’d like.”

The pink fae giggled with delight, then allowed a raspberry to grow in her palm. She brought it to Y/N’s lips. Y/N, who was still quite out of it, opened her mouth to let the fae feed her. It tasted much sweeter than the fruit at home, and a little bit of the juice dribbled down her chin, which made the pink fae chuckle and coo. Jacinth wiped the juice away with the pad of his thumb.

A green fae came up next, holding a honeycomb in his hand. He offered it to Y/N, and she drank the honey inside.

“She is so precious,” the green fae said, “how I wish I had a human of my own.”

“She’s very special to me,” Jacinth replied, “she is like the soothing touch of a fresh spring breeze.”

“Quite so,” the green fae agreed.

As the night went on, several more fae came up to see Y/N. Any time one of them tried to touch her, Jacinth would pull her closer to himself and make some excuse for why they couldn’t. The music playing was otherworldly, and Y/N often caught herself swaying to it.

Y/N yawned and felt her eyelids drooping shut. She felt Jacinth lift her up in a bridal carry. He made his excuses to the other fae and started to carry her home.

“Did you have a good time, pet?” Jacinth asked.

Y/N only murmured in response, eliciting a fond chuckle from him.

“Sleep now, Y/N,” Jacinth whispered.

Y/N drifted off just as the sun began to peek out over the horizon. Spring was on the way.

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

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[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Clone Whump Fic Recs

I have a migraine. It's a bad one. One of those ones that lasts for days and comes and goes in intensity from "I am actively being stabbed repeatedly" to "oh god I'm actually dying". It feels like there's an ice pick being driven through my skull while it's also simultaneously splitting apart. The medicine has done nothing. And so I must suffer.

If anyone has any good clone whump fic recs, I could really use them right now. Bonus points if the clone is comforting and caring for the reader. Extra bonus points if it's injury or pain related, rather than sick fic.

I'm already familiar with, and have read, the amazing work of @staycalmandhugaclone but if anyone has any other clone whump fic recs, I would really appreciate it.

Sorry if this is a tad inarticulate. My capacity to string words together right not is not exactly optimal I just typed optional instead of optimal dear god

#the clone wars #tcw #clones #clone wars #fic rec #twc fic rec #star wars fic rec #tbb fic rec #tbb #the bad batch #bad batch #whump #tcw whump #star wars whump #tbb whump #clone whump #clones x reader #reader whump #caregiving #migraine

[whump-or-whatever]

Well if y’all are into Doctor Who, I have just posted the first part of a reader whump story with the Master as whumper and eventual Doctor as caretaker. (That’s the plan, I’ve still gotta get there.) Here it be.

#whump #whump fanfiction #doctor who #the master doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #whump writing #reader whump

[too-lit-for-fanfic]

Desiderium - Callosity

Part I of ?

Masterlist

Part II

* A lack of feeling, an emptiness of being. Felt in the aftermath of a great tragedy. *

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

Disclaimer - DNI if under the age of 18. This is a dark and mature story involving themes of torture, substance abuse, addiction, trauma, PTSD, injury detail 

Not all of these will be present in each part of the story, but the warning still applies. Sorry for the long wait, we all have approaching exams so there won’t be any updates this month. This story will follow canon as much as possible, but there will be some deviations to make the relationship between Obi wan and the main character as realistic as possible. Please remember, the characters are written realistically, not just to be liked.

Word Count - 12K

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, thousands of voices cried out, a cacophony of terror echoing across the galaxy until silence swathed the universe. The silence enveloped every known corner of the galaxy, the dead and dying left in its wake, their voices and cries lost to the growing emptiness left after destruction of an age and the birth of a new era, the birth of a new Empire. A galaxy once bustling with life now lay baron and destitute, the remnants of a bygone era scattered across the galaxy and hidden for their own safety under the constant threat and the watchful eye of the new Empire.

The known galaxy lies festering in the wake of a new dark age, teetering towards an age of no return. Those left, themselves becoming cruel and ruthless to survive in such an age, neighbour turning on neighbour, husband turning on wife, sister turning on brother, the eyes of the empire inhabiting every crack and crevice artfully carved into all strongholds of refuge of the bygone age. 

A remnant of the bygone era glowered at Aeris, beads of sweat dripping down the retired Clone Trooper’s weathered face as her gloved finger pressed tightly on the trigger of her blaster, aimed directly at the older mans head, the muscles in her hand twitching with the restraint to not pull the trigger.

“I’m not one for killing war veterans.” Sand whipped up at the pair, battering their clothes and skin like millions of shards of glass, yet the gales that buffeted against them offered no relief from the overbearing sun, of which Aeris could feel the exposed skin on her extended arm burning under its ferocity. “But you won’t be the first.”

“And I won’t be the last.” The man called back, shouting over the gales of the tempest he had tried to flee into, and now found himself trapped in. His voice was hoarse but firm, carrying over the roar of the sands with well-versed practice gained from years of experience on the cruelest battlefields seen in an age. A general without an army, a soldier without a cause, a man whose purpose died with the fall of the Jedi order. He struggled to form words with his parched mouth, his lips cracking and bleeding with every twist of his tongue. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll go without a fight. You’ll have to kill me.” He paused, his overgrown dark locks, speckled with more grey and white than colour whipping into his face and eyes as he glowered at the young woman before him, both hands clasped around the worn grip of a rusted blaster. “You’re young, you have time - take another bounty, don't make me kill you.”

“Bargaining?” Her voice lilted with mockery, disappointed disbelief carried on a raspy tune. Sand continued to whip into the thick air, the Clone Trooper squinting as her dark halo flittered through the fog. “Coward.”

And then she was gone. 

The Clone Trooper spun on his heel, blaster and eyes scouring the horizon for a dark shadow amongst the crimson gusts of sand, chocking the air and blinding the sun. The deafening thrum of blood pumping through his veins and the battering of his heart against his chest rose to a paralysing crescendo as his eyes flitted across the horizon, the bounty hunter hidden within the storm. His breaths came erratic and shallow, gulping as much sand as oxygen as terror clawed at his chest and throat, beads of sweat trailing along his stained and dirtied brow. A bolt darts aimlessly into the storm, illuminating the crimson air and sand with a shock of blue before disappearing into the distance. His weathered knuckles turn white against the hilt of the blaster, palms slick with sweat. He steps back, and again, and again, sand pooling around his ankles and filling his boots.

“You think yourself a hero?” He calls scornfully into the hazy abyss, yelling to the wind. “Fight me with honour! Not deaf and blind!”

Something startles him to his left and he fires blindly, breaths choked and laboured, sweat-soaked hair falling into his stinging eyes. 

A hand reaches from the darkness, thin and pale, clasping his shoulder and wrenching him back as a leg sweeps his feet from under him. The man screeches, firing blindly as he tumbles, more focussed on fending off an attack than catching his fall. He scrambles to stand, blaster aiming wildly. He sees the bolt before he feels it, the thick air around him illuminated by a brilliant blue before a searing pain tears through his left knee and calf, the smell of scorched flesh filling his nose before he hit the floor. He screams and flails, dirtied hands clasping at his ruined knee as a dark figure materialises above him, head tilted forward, empty red-rimmed eyes gazing down at him. They flicker to the discarded blaster by his side. 

“I’m not here to make you a martyr.” She mocks lowly, stepping over the writhing man’s thin frame and kicking his blaster into the hazed distance with a lazy sweep of her right leg. Some sand kicks into his eyes with the effort, and he groans at the familiar sting.

“No, no, that is reserved for heroes.” She crouches low, blocking the white-hot sun as her shadow casts across his face, her short dark locks dance around her features, buffeted by the hot wind and sharp sand. The lines of age around the Trooper’s umber eyes deepen with every wince and grimace, squinting up at her figure. “And you?” A gloved hand raps against the yellow pauldron on his right shoulder before returning to binding a wire around his wrists “You may be a veteran, but you are far from a hero.”

“So now what?” The man struggles as she hauls him to his feet by the scruff of his tattered jacket, his feet sliding uselessly against the loose sand, hands pulling taught against his binds. “Bury me out here? Not a soul to know of what happened to me? I bet you’ve done this more times than you can count you bantha-riding-”

A sharp shove in the centre of his lower back nearly sends the ex-trooper hurtling down the dunes below as he yelps and scrambles, bound and bloody hands grasping at the air uselessly. 

A firm grip on his bicep hauls him back into place, the firmness of the bounty hunter’s grip surely to leave a bruise, if he were to live long enough. “Your insults are wasted on me - I’m here to collect a payment, nothing more, nothing less. Any damage to my precious cargo reduces my pay.”

He refuses to take another step forward, leaning back against her gloved hand on his right shoulder, brows nit together as he desperately thinks of a way to flee, even despite his bound hands and ruined leg. Aeris sighs deeply, jamming her charged blaster into the small of the man’s back, the cold metal barrel causing goose bumps to raise on the back of his sweat-soaked neck.  “But a delivery of cargo, no matter how broken, is better than no delivery at all.” Her covered features are mere inches from the trooper’s ear, her silvery voice slicing through the roaring of the dunes, hissing a venomous promise matching the coolness of the blaster’s hilt. He swallows despite the itching dryness of his throat. 

He takes a faltering step forward, and a mocking hum falls from her concealed lips. 

“You fucking scum-”

“Save your breath.” She kicks the heel of his injured leg, silencing him with a yelp as he stumbles forward. “You’ll be needing it to beg for mercy soon enough. Best not waste it on insulting me.” 

The pair trudged their way through the chocking sandstorm, Aeris’ blaster indignantly pressed into the small of her bounty’s back the entire journey, index finger lazily resting against the trigger. An eternity later, the pair leave the harrowing storm behind them, raging on in the bowls of the endless desert. Though seemingly a blessing, the air and their throats no longer clogged with dust and their eyes no longer scraped by millions of shards of glass, there was no longer any protection from the sun. It hung white-hot and searing in a cloudless vastness, an endless white heat against an even paler sky. 

The sand that had once beat against them ceaselessly clung to their slim frames and cotton clothes, staining their skin sanguine and the Troop’s white armour a scorched pale pink. Sweat trickled down Aeris’ neck, her dark clothes attracting the heat like fruit-flies to a bruised apple. She tugged uncomfortably at her collar, slicked to her neck with sweat and licked her lips with a parched tongue, only tasting salt and sand. During the long journey she had toyed with the idea of just shooting the trooper and leaving him to the vastness of the desert, his limping and groaning prolonging the journey and brooding an agitated headache at her temples - the slowness was infuriating, the heat was maddening, the fact she could have been in the cool confines of her ship, chasing a bounty on a far cooler planet was incensing. She glared emptily at the back of his head, his sand-caked hair swishing with every step, promises of food and fortune keeping her finger from pulling the trigger. Aeris watched crimson droplets disappear into the crimson sand.

The horizon rippled in the distance, the town they searched for seemingly further and further with each laboured step. The Trooper panted and gasped, one hand clutching at his thigh in a weak attempt to quell the rippling pain as the other dragged along his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow. Fleeing into the desert had seemed like a favourable idea at the time, he had neglected to consider the journey back. Though infuriated by the journey, and the cocky bounty-hunter with their blaster burrowed into his back, at least he knew she was as miserable as him, and that felt like some sort of win. 

Civilisation was close, small sandstone and wooden sun-bleached shacks rising in an unsteady haze in the distance, small dark silhouettes flitted from building to building. The Trooper eyed some grotesque four-legged creature drinking from a sandstone trough, poorly roped to a large rotten wooden beam buried into the sand. He watched the water splash from the gully with sunken eyes, half-considering joining the beast just to quell the retched dryness of his throat. Aeris followed his gaze with her own, tilting her head at the creature, smirking to herself, and pushing the man along. The pair continued on the dirt-path, the locals eyeing the newcomers from beneath peaked hoods and floppy broad-rimmed hats - upon noticing the blaster attached to Aeris’s hip, and the other held languidly in her hand, the crowds dispersed, retreating to the cool confines of their squatted homes. 

“You should’ve dressed like them.” Aeris jokes disdainfully, catching the eyes of a young girl peering from an empty doorway, cream and white cloth, stained by the crimson sand, wrapped around her thin tan frame like a bandage. “Changed out of this ridiculous gear - who still wears pre-Empirial uniforms anyway?” She knocks the hilt of her blaster against his pauldron to emphasise her point. 

“Not all of us have the money to simply buy other clothes.” He rasps, face pinching into a sour expression, fury bubbling under the surface - he had already been caught, the last thing he wanted to hear was how he could have hid better. “Not all of us are willing to hunt and kill the innocent to gain a few coins.”

Aeris’ chokes at the irony, a disbelieving laugh heaving her chest as her mouth twists into a cynical smile. “Says the one who destroyed the Jedi.” She forces him to turn left down a shadowed alley. “Such a shame all those younglings weren’t innocent enough for you.”

“That was different.”

“I kill criminals, you murdered sleeping children, and yet you preach to me?”

“You question the Empire?” He sounds scornful, like an elder aghast at the ways of the young. 

“The Republic was tired and worn, the Empire is murderous and cruel - I like neither, but I prefer the lesser of two evils.”

He goes to retort, brows furrowed and head turning, but the blaster raising to the nape of his neck silences him. “Shut it. Your self-righteousness makes my head ache, and it’s becoming far too tempting to shoot you.”

Aeris guides her bounty through the narrowing streets of the small town, a hand clasped firmly against his shoulder forcing him wherever she wished, his useless leg struggling to keep pace with her long strides, dragging through the sand. The shade the many alley’s provided was a brief reprieve from the sizzling heat, but the air remained warm and thick, their clothes and hair sticking to their sweat-slicked bodies. 

“Stay.” The dark haired woman shoves the Trooper harshly against a sandstone wall, pointing purposefully at his feet. His hands slide against the rough wall, propping himself against the sturdy structure. He turns indignantly, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain from speaking. 

Aeris’ focus had already turned to the wooden slat door before her, rasping a pattern against the door, its whole frame shaking with each knock. The slat slides into the left-hand wall, disturbingly intense large black eyes glinting from the shadows peaked around the doorway, a cloth-wrapped hand gripping the slat’s side. Aeris’ glassy amber eyes focus on the shadowed figure, bright and attentive yet unimpressed. The figure didn’t speak. Aeris’ right eyebrow raised.

“Camber! What the fuck are you doing staring out the door?!” A gravelly voice echoed from somewhere behind the beady eyes.

“There’s a red woman at the door.” The apparently young child responds, still shaded and mostly hidden behind the makeshift door. “With a blaster.” A pause. “And a man.”

Suddenly the door is wrenched open by significantly more aged hands, the piece of wood shaking comically in its sheath in the wall. An old man, dressed similarly to the young boy in white and cream cloth, sends an attempted welcoming smile in Aeris’ direction, hands clasping the young boy by either shoulder. 

“My apologies Ms Aeris, the boy is still learning his manners. Especially those towards our most valued guests.” His grip on the boys shoulders tighten as the young woman watches with bored eyes, use to the fake pleasantry and more concerned with escaping the heat. “Please come in, your friend as well.” He beckons her in with a bony hand, and as she retrieves the Trooper, guiding him by his bound wrists into the small abode, she can hear the old man scolding the boy in another room, accompanied by the familiar smack of wood against skin. 

The centre room was dark and squat, the ceiling low and draped in tapestry and sheets, the same thin cotton hung across every window to provide some relief from the hot air outside. Three narrow doorways had been carved into the sandstone walls of the room, separated by more sheets of cheap cotton, and the floor resembled the crimson sand outside, only compacted through use and firmed with age. In the centre sat a wooden table accompanied by wooden chairs, all sun-bleached and poorly crafted, cracked and flaking, and a torn rug with another smaller table and an equally ill-constructed bench sat at the furthest point of the room, left over berries and grains in woven baskets abandoned in the corner upon the pairs’ arrival.

Aeris forces the trooper into a wooden seat and ensures his hands are in sight above the table before she takes her own seat. She sighs in relief as she tugs a black cloth from her face, breathing in the cool air deeply through her mouth and nose, rolling her feet inside her thick shoes, tingling with the relief of finally sitting down, completely basking in the coolness the shade provides. The old man emerges not a moment later, a stick of poorly shaped wood serving as a cane as he hurries toward the centre table where Aeris had already sat, the Trooper next to her, bound hands flat against the wooden table. 

“I see the sandstorm wasn’t kind to you.” He half jests, wooden cane motioning towards the red that stained her skin.

“Sand is never kind.” She remarks back, a hand dragging through her dark locks, roughly shaking some sand free.

“I apologise again,” He mutters as he eases himself into his own seat, the wood creaking under his thin frame. “he is young and still learning - terrible memory for our ‘important visitors’ does not help things.”

“Nothing to apologise for, we all have to learn.” She leans back in her chair, arm resting against its back and legs crossed languidly, left ankle on her right knee. “I’m guessing a grandson of yours? He wasn’t here when I arrived.” Aeris starts conversationally, always one to ensure good relations to those she might further need.

“Yes, he was visiting family in the town over. Seems to have forgotten all his training while away.” The old man mutters bitterly, but a fondness remains in his wrinkled features, pale and streaked from years of sun damage. 

“There’s plenty of time for this sort of thing.” The brunette waves her hand around the room dismissively, finally motioning to herself. “He seems only young-” The boy emerges from a room, eyes puffy, with a tray of cups, a jug full of sand-coloured water, and a small pot of steaming tea. Aeris offers a gentle smile. “-and a fine little helper.”

“Eight this year.” The man takes a glass from the boy, and motions him towards their visitors. “I’ll make a useful man out of him yet- discipline is key, best to start when they’re young.”

The boy shuffles over cautiously, holding out the tray from which Aeris and the Trooper both take a glass of water. As she reaches for her own glass, Aeris’ gaze flits over the boy - he was thin, alarmingly so, swathed in cloth far too big for his small stature and height, his cheeks, one bruised, still held onto his puppy-fat, and his hair matched the darkness and richness of his wide eyes, hanging in thick curls around his pale face. She attempts to smile at the boy, though the thin pale scar that ran through the right side of her mouth may have made it resemble more of a grimace.

“Thank you, Camber.” At the use of his name, appearing shocked at her remembering it, the young boy scuttles back to his grandfather, standing shyly and rosy-cheeked behind his chair, large eyes barely peaking over his shoulder. 

“Now, I assume you haven’t travelled all this way just to trade pleasantries. I take it you’re ready to leave?” The old man sips from his drink as he talks, eyeing the Trooper warily. The Trooper gulps from his own glass like a man dying of thirst, but his own dark coppery gaze still watches the exchange between his captor and whoever this man was. 

“Yes.” Aeris places her glass down, now empty, a hand coming to grasp the Trooper by the hair on the nape of his neck, forcing him to stop drinking and tilt his head back, standing and forcing him to raise from his own seat. “As usual, you may take anything from the cargo you wish-” She pauses, as if remembering, hand still tugging painfully at his hair as she drags him back into his seat. “No body parts this time,” The Trooper lurches in his seat, heart leaping into his throat. “special requirement, I’ve got to keep him in the best shape possible.”

“I’m not cargo-” He begins, but a purposeful knock of her right knee against his injured knee has him hissing and silent.

“The armour - the pauldron and the kamas. Shame he hasn't got more but it’ll do.”

“Coverage of full price?”

“Coverage of full price.” He agrees, extending a hand which she shakes firmly. She was well aware that the price of just those two pieces of armour far surpassed the general price of storage, but she was more than happy to oblige, especially given leniency with past short-payments - sometimes loot was favourable, sometimes less so. Besides, she’d make more credits from his delivery alone, no need to be greedy.

After a few more moments of idle chat, the pair, Aeris dragging the Trooper along by his bound hands that had now become chafed and bloody, followed their host into a backroom, where he opened a wooden latch in the floor, a tunnel carved into the sandstone leading into a shadowed cavern. The old man heads down first, scuttling down the rickety ladder with ease, Aeris and the Trooper leaning over the hole, watching a small flickering fire-light appear in its depths. 

“You next.” She nudges her cargo towards the tunnel. “What? Get moving.” “You’re not going to untie my hands? I need them.” “Make it work.” A firm hand on his shoulder has him reluctantly backing into the tunnel, brow furrowed in concentration and jaw tense. After a few moments of silence the brunette descends the ladder, appearing in a low tunnel with pale fluorescent lights tied to the ceiling. The old man holds a small oil-lamp, combatting the dimness. The hand-crafted tunnel is long and dim, cool still air causing goosebumps to raise on Aeris’ sweat-sticky skin, the familiar scent of damp sand enveloping the corridor. After a few minutes of silent walking the trio emerge into a large natural cavern, sunlight from the mouth of the rocky ravine casting against the back wall, the trio, and the contents of the cavern, hidden by its twisted cave-dotted entrance. Boxes of indiscernible building materials and supplies lay scattered about the dark ravine, most covered by a thick layer of orange dust, parts of old fighter ships and carrier vessels half-dismantled piled up against every wall. In the centre sat a small angular U-wing starfighter with faded dark green markings on its main body and wings. Like the rest of the ravine, a thick layer of orange dust had settled across its frame. 

“She looks better.” Aeris notes happily, abandoning the two men to admire her ship, exposed fingers and gloved palm sliding along its right side. Her square shoulders drop with relief, some of the tension she always carried easing with the familiarity of home.

“Good as new.” The old man remarks, placing his small lamp on a nearby crate. “Repairs were minimal, the damage was mostly aesthetic, luckily.” Aeris nods along, amber eyes scrutinising his handiwork, delighted, but not surprised, to see even the smallest scuffs having been repaired. “No more battering this poor thing - I’m good at my job, I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Elliejil,” She almost scoffs, and it takes the Trooper a minute to realise that jarbled rubbish was the damn old man’s name. “are you insinuating I don’t take care of my ship?”

“What the fuck are you even doing with that thing, do you have any idea how many repairs I had to make? I had to replace the inlet valve! Do you have any idea how hard that is to damage?!” He jests good-naturedly, but a seriousness overlaps his tone. “Stop hurtling into whatever fight you see. You’re a valued customer, whose coin I would miss dearly.” He points a shrivelled hand in her direction, before gesturing more angrily towards the ship. “And though your expectations flatter me, I am not a miracle worker.”

Within minutes the ship is fully loaded, Elliejil offering a small bag of dried fruits as a good-will gift until their next arrangement, and the Trooper, now stripped of his little armour, is cuffed to a seat in the ship’s small lobby, left eyeing a deceptively inconspicuous bag on a metallic table to his left. Aeris stands at the entrance to the ship, a small purse of credits in hand. She throws it towards Elliejil, meeting his weathered gaze with a slight nod. “To the deaf.”

He grins, though there was no need for the code amongst the pair, he echoed its response. “To the blind.”

---

The galaxy streamed past the windshield of the agile U-Wing in ribbons of white, lighting the small cockpit with a familiar pale glow. The galaxy was quiet, as always, with only the whirring of the engine and the cockpits internal mechanisms beeping in cadence filling the still silence. Aeris sat comfortably in the pilot’s chair, one leg resting on an unimportant piece of the console and the other bent under herself, the lights of the galaxy reflecting in her wide gaze, as she sat quietly, as she often did, watching stars and planets and entire galaxy’s glimmer past. 

The U-wing is a small and agile ship, utilised by resistance members as both a transport shuttle and fighter ship during periods of conflict, though neither as large as a Frigate or as fast as an X-wing. Aeris’ U-wing was worn and weathered, its leather seats fraying, its console scratched and faded, but it felt like home. Souveniers and, by all means, junk, lay strewn across the entire ship, hung from any exposed wiring or rivets and crammed onto divots of the metal-sheathed walls, causing the patchy steelwork to appear more as purposeful shelfs and cubby-holes than damage that had never been repaired. A table and worn booth had been fixed into the centre of the ship’s hull that in typical star fighters remained empty for more floor space for cargo or troops - Aeris had sacrificed the space in a tactical decision of comfort and the fact she had only ever dealt with, at maximum, three bounty’s at a time. On the far back wall of the lobby sat her makeshift bedroom. A layer of old blankets and a tattered pillow lay atop the circular inlet of the circular door leading to the reactor power plant at the furthermost back of the ship. It was neither comfortable nor lavish, but a sheet hung across the back wall of the hull gave the small cubby a sense of security and privacy she found invaluable. 

It had been several hours since the ships departure from Abafar, a desolate, unassuming planet at one of the furthest points of the outer-rim, and Aeris had settled into a state of near-peace, her head fully rested against the beaten head-rest of her seat, her aching and tense shoulders sloping with the ease of being back home, her domain - she manned the ship, out here, in the vastness of the galaxy, she was in control, with immense power rumbling just beneath her fingertips, the steady comforting thrum of the power reactor offering a sense of calm she could not last recall. However, unlike usual, she was not alone, her eyebrows knitting together in mounting frustration at another groan and shuffle from the main hull, her bounty becoming more and more restless throughout the journey. Her eyes wonder back to the starry sky before her but a resonating clang from the hull has her springing from her seat, right hand clasping the blaster at her hip as she turns to the ship’s main compartment, hidden from the cockpit by a raggedy cloth draped from the rafters of the ceiling to offer some privacy. 

Flinging the cloth to the side she steps down into the main hull, her heavy boots clanging against the thin metal floor as her eyes land on the hunched trooper, strewn in a heap on the floor, right wrist still cuffed and arm twisted at an unseemly angle. The Trooper stiffens, wide eyes glaring up at her towering figure illuminated in the entryway, the new pain blossoming in his arm all but forgotten at seeing her figure looming close, his breath dying in his throat. A few tense beats of silence pass. 

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.”

The Trooper almost chokes as she takes a step forward, her dark eyes surveying the growing pool of dark blood covering both the seat and floor, a steady stream of crimson flowing from his knee, newly aggravated with his tumble. He attempts to raise back onto his seat, good leg shaking with the effort to hoist himself back up, but every twist caused more painful pangs across his shoulder and chest, hand numbing with the increasing pain. He grimaces, wide eyes staring up at the young woman’s figure, a poor swamp-rat caught in a hunter’s trap.

Aeris leans down, dark locks falling into her face, and he freezes, flinching away from the woman as she encroaches, the sound of blood pumping through his veins drowning out all rational thought as a hand grips his twisted shoulder. Fuck. Why couldn’t he just sit still - what did he think he was going to do? Get free? Then what? Stupid, fucking-

Click.

The cuff binding him to the seat falls away, his arm springing free to be cradled to his chest as Aeris returns to her full height. She watches with a flat gaze, looping the binding back onto its secure place on her belt. With startling ease she hoists the man back onto his assigned seat with her free arm, eyes once again flitting down to the pool of crimson now encircling her own shoes, raising back to the man with nothing short of disdain. 

“Stay.” Her grip on his jacket fades, slender hand hanging limp, yet ready, at her side.

His head tilts as she turns to a nearby shelf, not bothering to rebind him. His gaze flits to an empty bottle strewn next to the table, well within reach. He clears his throat subtly, wide gaze flitting back to the other figure in the room, landing on the blasters holstered at her sides.

“You’re not going to bind me?” He questions deftly, still cradling his wrist to his chest, injured leg strewn out in front of him. 

“Now why,” She doesn’t even turn to regard him. “would I do that?” She approaches with a small modulator in hand, along with an unlabelled bottle of some dark liquid. When her coppery gaze lands on the man, stiff and hunched, streaked with red yet a sickly pale beneath the stain, a mocking smirk tugs at her thin lips. She regards him with a sweeping gaze as she falls into the seat opposite. “You like to think you pose a threat to me?” 

The sheer undulated mocking disbelief in her voice has him startling. His lips part in both anger and fear.

“Now is not the time to think yourself a hero, old man.”

He blanches at the remark, his hands balling into fists in his lap, knuckles whitening beneath the blood that stained them. Aeris continues fiddling with the modulator, laconically typing away some code in some language he couldn’t understand, shoulders slack and head tilted, one leg crossed over the other in a pose akin to that of a bored teenager. Fury bloomed in his chest, overtaking the fear that had festered within since his capture: she was bored. She didn’t regard him as a threat, much less as warranting her attention: a man bread for battle, with a weapon within reach. A muscle ticks in his jaw as his gaze burns holes into the side of her head, unblinking, the bottles between them calling his name.

He shifts, hands inching closer to the bottles within reach, fighting a battle of logic and pride, sense and incense, fear against bravery- or rather, stupidity. The silence and beeping of the hull only adds to his frustration. 

“If you’re so tempted, try it.” The trooper flinches as her voice penetrates the silence. She still doesn’t look up. “Go on. My blasters are holstered and my hands are full.”

“Your youth betrays you with your misplaced confidence.”

She scoffs, air blowing from her nose as she grins, continuing to tap away. “I have faced far bigger bounty’s than you in my time, uninjured, young, strong - I dare you.”

The first bottle the Trooper throws smashes just to the right of the brunette, showering her in shards of glass. The second bottle flies uselessly past her face, shattering against the furthest wall and spraying the ceiling in the remnants of whatever dark liquid lay inside. The third bottle doesn’t leave his hand, remaining poised in an iron-clad grip, the fury and confidence falling from him in a tidal wave as a blaster aims straight for his chest. Aeris sits with an indiscernible emotion plastered across her pale features, head tilted to the side and ankles crossed, her boots resting against the table-top that separated the pair. Her finger rests over the trigger.

The third bottle falls to the floor.

“Kill me, get on with it.”

Goose-bumps raise over the entire Trooper’s body, sweat rippling down his sand-caked back. His gaze remains stead-fast on the woman before him, the blaster a mere blur as he watches a trickle of blood pool from a small cut on her cheek - at least he had achieved something, no matter how futile. 

Her head cocks further to the side, right eyebrow raising as a lock of hair falls into her face.

“You really do disappoint me. You all do.”

Her laconicity spurs his fury once more. “You crazy bitch. Do you get off on this you sick freak? Tying down the helpless, offering their bodies as payment to your peers, guiding them to slaughter like some pathetic-”

During his outburst, the slender brunette had risen from her seat and approached with heavy steps, the Trooper too blinded by fury, embarrassment  and fear to really pay attention. He only stops when a fist connects with his nose, his head snapping to the side and spittle flying. A firm grip on his hair has him turning back to the woman looming over him.

“Your age disgraces you with your arrogance.” She mocks his insult from earlier, a satisfied smirk pulling at her lips. “Was that your great master plan you’ve been forming ever since I tied you to this seat?” She yanks on his hair harder, and he grunts, eyes already brimming with instinctual tears from the broken nose, now twisted at an unseemly angle. “Throw some bottles at me?” She plucks a shard of glass up from the table top, holding him in place as she caresses his under-eye, scratching lightly at the skin. “I knew you would throw one - it was written across your face even before I tied you here - but then I thought you’d lunge. Put up a fight, that’s what they usually do.”

The shard of glass slips lower, pressing into his jaw and sliding behind his ear. He can hear the blood she is about to spill, mocking him with its resonant thud against his aching skull.

“You seem to have forgotten who I am.“ The glass shard follows the length of his jugular. “Now, I admire the actions of a dead man, and I understand you aren’t quite in your right mind right now - I don’t think I’d be either. But really? Throw a few bottles and hope for the best? I’m insulted.”

She suddenly releases him, glass shard falling forgotten to the floor. His wide eyes never leave her dark gaze.

“You failed. That bottle you decided to smash against my wall contained a sedative I was going to offer you before I handed you over - numb the pain of interrogation a little bit - but I guess you didn’t want it.” The Trooper’s mouth falls open, blood staining his lips as he gapes like a fish, mind running blank. “No more games.” Her eyes slide to the floor. “On you knees.”

It takes a second, and a well-placed hand on the handle of her blaster, before the Trooper obliges, collapsing with a wince before her. She binds both of his hands this time, attaching them to a floor joining underneath the sofa, tight enough for him to already begin to loose feeling in his wrists. He had remained deathly silent throughout the entire process but as she stands he opens his mouth, voice stuffy from the broken nose.

“How do I know you’re not lying. Anything could have been in that bottle.”

She glances down at him, gaze turning to the liquid that still dripped from the ceiling into small puddles, before focusing back on the kneeling man.

“I guess you’ll never get to find out.”

With a role of her shoulders she turns briskly on her heel, heading back towards the cockpit.

“Prepare yourself, we’re landing soon.”

Fear spikes up the Trooper’s spine, the hair at his nape raising and goosebumps rippling across his skin. Of course he would be handed over, but to know the end was near was truly terrifying.

“Who is it?” He calls after her retreating figure, raising higher onto his knees. “The old man back on Abafar said his name didn’t he- Val Vender. That’s who placed my bounty? I don’t even know the man.”

“Val Vondar.” The brunette turns back to the trooper, venom lacing the name. “He’s not a man. He’s a very powerful Quarren.”

“And what does he want?” The man was desperately grabbing at straws, trying to peace together a story and prepare answers to a future interrogation. “Why does he want me if I’ve never even met him?”

“How should I know? That’s not my job.” A beat of silence, Aeris gnaws on her lip for a second, catching herself and pretend to wipe something from her lips. “But put it this way- I don’t hunt Clone Troopers, it’s not what I do.” Disbelief takes over the kneeling-mans weathered face. “But Vondar has offered me payment worth far more than this simple bounty, worth more than I could turn away, because he knows I’m good at my job, and he knows you would be delivered true to my word. I don’t know what he wants, and I don’t care, but know that whatever he wants, he’s willing to sacrifice a great amount for it.”

This does little to quell the Trooper’s nerves, in fact, he feels as though his heart might burst from his chest at any moment, perspiration beginning to form along his brow.

“And he didn’t want you.” Aeris resumes her path towards the cockpit, a hidden crease forming between her brows. “He wanted an ex-Clone Trooper, any Clone Trooper. I’m afraid you did the worst job at covering your tracks, if I’d have found another they would have sufficed.” 

The Trooper feels as though he’s been slammed into by a Sand-Crawler, as though the universe had been stripped beneath him and he was falling to an endless chasm, as though his very organs had withered in his chest. His mind races with so many thoughts that he draws a blank, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the woman’s retreating figure. The Trooper calls after her but silence greets him, left to survey the glass and liquid strewn about the hull, with nothing but the chiming of the ship and the steady drip-drop of his own misfortune to keep him company.

---

Within the hour the U-wing starfighter had been docked at some small, questionable and locally-run holding bay, a small bag of credits and a murmur of ‘To the deaf’ thrown to the approaching male Twi’lek.

Aeris tugged the Trooper along, guiding him by his cuffed hands through the bustling streets of Daiyu, a planet covered in growing city-scapes and heaving with the masses. Daiyu was an incredibly developed planet, sky-scrapers looming over its inhabitants, flashing electronic signs covered every visible inch, patrons and owners alike beckoning those meandering the busy streets into their shrouded establishments, grasping at drunken wanderers and curious tourists alike. The air hung thick with smog and filth, preventing all manners of natural light from reaching the planet’s surface, the lowest levels constantly in a state of darkness. The further you descended to the planet’s surface, the grimier the structures, the fewer and less-modified the vehicles and the more beggarly the inhabitants. Truly a place to disappear.

Aeris herself adorned a mask of her own, a sleek metallic form-fitting mask that covered her entire head, a faded yellow visor obscuring her hazel eyes, and dark green markings, similar to that on her ship, painted across her brow and along the nape of the helmet, the mouth piece covering her lips and chin painted as well. She had also swapped clothes from their earlier excursion, adorning brown loose-fitting combat trousers with numerous belts along her hips and upper-thighs, the same thick and weathered laced boots, a black short-sleeve top and a chestnut aviator jacket - only her exposed skin remained tinted with a hint of red. She weaved between bodies of all shapes and sizes, all colours and creeds, and all in various states of dishevelment. The streets were so busy, and occupants so lost within their own hedonism, nobody paid any mind to the beaten and bloody man being dragged through the squalid streets, a trail of blood quickly disappearing into the grime of the pavement. Those that did spare him a glance of concern quickly disappeared back into the fold as soon as their eyes landed on the dual blasters hanging from Aeris’ hips.

Much like on Abafar, Aeris led the way with long purposeful strides, one hand stuffed into her jacket pocket whilst the other tugged against the Trooper’s bindings, the slowing man forced to limp and stagger behind her in the hopes of keeping up to release the pressure on his raw wrists. The Trooper is completely lost, meaninglessly surveying those around him as he dutifully follows along, the ship so far away he had no chance of finding his way back even if he managed to free himself. Lost in his musings of those around him, and rather unimpressed, he all but crashes into Aeris’ back as she abruptly halts, wincing and peering round her shoulder to see the matter. A young girl, no older than 16 stands before Aeris, a large coat hanging from her thin frame and large, and full, satchels draped across both shoulders. 

Aeris goes to side-step the young girl, but she begins talking before she can even take a step - Aeris’ hand falls to her belt. 

“Miss, I’ve all types of spice, powders, fauna and crystals for sale. I guarantee you won’t find a better price on this side of the planet.” The girl rattles on, sunken eyes flitting around Aeris’ figure, and her fingers twitching at her sides. 

Instead of denying and continuing on, as the Trooper had thought, Aeris inclines her head, hand returning back to her pocket.

“And why should I believe you have the best prices?”

The girl’s bloodshot eyes widen and she grins, baring yellowed teeth, at the prospect of a sale. “You see, Miss, every item I sell is a point, and they all have different points: red spice and a lot of fauna powders are only 1 point, they’re common and cheap, there’s no profit. Then things like Glitterstim, Ryll and deathsticks,” she pulls a luminescent vile from her breast pocket before stashing it away again. “are 3 points, and then snuff and serious stuff like SLV and Guilea is 6 points - when I get 5 points I get a 1 point item for free, and if I save for 30 I get a 6 point item. The cheaper I can sell the quicker I can get points.”

Aeris grins to herself behind the mask. “I don’t imagine your employer’s happy.”

“The money doesn’t matter to me, and as long as he gets his money it’s okay.”

The Trooper waits boredly, swaying on the spot as he watches the transaction, still half-believing his captor was toying with the girl and they’d leave empty handed. It was rather sad really, and if he had any capacity to think of anything that his looming death, he would have pittied the girl, evidently wired on some substance he didn’t know, far too gone to be helped. He was shocked again when Aeris’s hand dug into the inner pocket of her jacket.

“I’ll take a vial of Sweetblossom and a tab each of Glitterstim and SLV-16.”

The girl grins wider, unzipping her bag. “I like a customer who knows what they want - so much better than the tourists who don’t have a clue.”

The girl immediately pulls a vial full of white powder from one of the satchels, followed by a small opaque paper bag and a vial of bright blue powder from her inner-coat pocket. 

“200 credits, please.”

“200?” Aeris questions, shifting her weight to her right leg. 

“You’re getting SLV-16 - the Empire’s been ruining our supply for all their fucking interrogations. I can do SLV-88 instead, which’ll be 152.”

“No chance.”

The Trooper watches, disbelieving, as Aeris hands over the absurd amount of credits and stashes her new toys away, pocketing the vials and bag in a concealed reinforced leather pouch inside her jacket. The girl scurries away, smile permanently etched onto her thin face, in search of her next customer.

“Should she just be selling that in broad daylight?” The Trooper questions deftly, stumbling up a lip in the pavement as they resume their trek.

“Anything’s legal here. If you arrested everyone who cut or dealt drugs, there’d be no customers.” 

“It’s a bad habit.” 

Aeris doesn’t grace him with a response, but her grip tightens on his wrists. 

---

Throughout their journey the heaving streets barely same to wane, the pair fighting their way - or, Aeris fighting her way through the crowds, dragging a man behind her - up until they halt at a building with no visible windows until at least the tenth floor. Aeris stares up at a large steel door, positioning her bounty next to her, and giving him a quick once-over. Truthfully, he was a mess: red stained every visible inch of the man from the desserts of Abafar, with crimson blood smeared across his nose and cheeks, largely hiding the bruising and crooked nose from view, with a limp leg caked in drying blood. At least he was alive, that was the only goal she had had for this delivery, and she was both relieved and surprised to have succeeded within the time frame given to her. A leather fingerless-gloved hand came up to straighten the Trooper’s black vest top - stalling for time more than anything else.

The Trooper felt positively sick, bile and a rotten feeling rising in his throat and clogging his wind pipe as he prepared for his fate - served to a supposed crime-Lord on a silver platter, with no understanding of what he could do to possibly relieve his fate. He didn’t know this man, he had no idea what information he could even provide to lessen his suffering. Though torture and death were both damning thoughts, the most sorrowful of all had plagued his mind and heart since he had been tied up on Aeris’ ship - he would die, and no one would remember him. All his comrades had been either killed in the aftermath of Order 66, or had passed since from the state of the galaxy in the formation of a new age - the transition from Galactic Republic to Galactic Empire had not been as smooth as he had been led to believe. Few had been granted the dignity of dying from old age. He had never managed to form a family after his retirement from service, nor any meaningful friendships, and this regret hung over him like a dark shadow, and would undeniably be his last thought. 

Aeris, on the other hand, felt her nerves beginning to alight for completely different reasons, her palms beginning to clam up, and the mask she adorned feeling as suffocating as ever as she checked the bounty again, thinking over every parameter to the deal. Hope daring to build in her chest that this had all gone to plan.

“My name,” The Trooper began, wrenching her from her mental checklist. “is Rook.”

Her mask tilts towards the Trooper- Rook, waiting.

“Someone should know.” 

He doesn’t see the way she gnaws at her already chapped lips, nor the way her hands clench further into fists. Aeris was thankful for the gloves with the force her nails dug into her palms. 

“Rook.” The Trooper would be embarrassed to admit just how calming it was to hear another person utter his name. “Do you want them to know your name?” His little moment of relief dissipates as Aeris motions towards the entrance.

“No.”

She wraps her knuckles in a pattern against the looming steel doors, and they swing open with a hiss.

Two large Trandoshans immediately flanked the pair, their large clawed reptilian feet scraping against the ferrocrete floor, as a stocky Gamorrean emerged from a nearby corridor, its snout-like nose raising to reveal thick tusks in a gross display before it stepped in front of the pair, leading the way down the endless grey corridor. All three bodyguards towered over the human and Clone by a full head in height, and both Rook and Aeris couldn’t help but feel as though they were now both bounty to a much larger hunter.

At the end of the grey corridor lay another set of large double doors, of which the Trandoshans stepped forward and pushed open for the three smaller creatures to enter, immediately closing them behind the party and standing to attention. Aeris’ hands twitched as the lizard-like creatures resumed their station at the doors - the only exit - minimally inching towards her blasters. Her gaze swept over the room from behind her visor. For such a rich individual, Val Vondar kept his meeting rooms sparse and underwhelming: the walls, floor and ceiling were all made from grey ferrocrete, and three long and blinding fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling in even strips. One rather plush chair sat in the centre of the room and on that chair sat Val Vondar himself, the Quarren leant back leisurely, draped in the finest cloth dirty money could buy. He oozed extravagance, polished shoes shining in the harsh fluorescent light, glinting almost mockingly compared to the new-comers dirty and bloodied pairs. His four tentacles that rested languidly on his chest detracted from the look of sophistication, and his beady turquoise eyes unsettled Aeris and Rook greatly, for many of the same reasons. Aeris had always found the Quarren an aesthetically displeasing race, and the man before her repulsed her from the entire species - perhaps it was his resemblance to a squid that had triggered her trepidation of seafood. 

"Weapons.” The Gamorrean commands, holding out a steel tray towards the bounty hunter. With a tic of her jaw Aeris quickly dispenses her blasters and blades into the tray before un-cuffing her bounty and placing the binding along with the assortment of weapons. After a thorough pat-down the pair are allowed to step into the centre of the room.

“Val Vondar,” Aeris begins, praying to the force and whatever else existed in the galaxy that her voice wouldn’t fail her. “I found this ex-Clone Trooper in the dessert of Abafar, and I have delivered him alive and well within the fortnight granted.” She produces a small cylindrical fob from her pocket, handing it over to the Gamorrean, who then hands it to its owner.

“I see, my dear, and I am impressed you have found me a specimen so soon when so many over my other bounty’s have failed me.” Val regards Rook with an intense gaze, tentacles writhing in excitement. Rook seemed to pale with every passing second, wringing his hands together in his best efforts to stay composed, sweat trickling down his back and terror clawing at his throat. Every breath that seized his lips felt like a battle. “And you, Trooper, do not fear. You shall be cared for properly, your wounds tended to, until it is time for my use of you.”

“What may that use be?” Rook questions, Aeris’ masked head whipping in his direction. He swallows around his parched tongue, his throat too tight to be of any use.

“Your DNA.” Val splutters as if it was obvious. Rook’s hopeful gaze lifts for a second, but quickly withers in his chest as Val continues. “Do not get your hopes up, Trooper, I assure you shall be treated with respect and humility - any enemy to the Jedi is a dearest friend of mine. However, I am afraid all of your DNA will be needed. You will not outlive the procedure.”

Rook’s eyes close in grief, the reality of the situation tearing through him like a blaster to the heart. 

“See to it he is cleaned and patched up, we cannot have him passing before his time.” Val disregards with a wave of his hand, the Gamorrean seizing the Clone Trooper by the arm and guiding him from the room. Rook doesn’t put up a fight, eyes downcast and jaw clenched as he staggers from the room. The doors hiss shut behind them. 

Aeris waits patiently in the centre of the room, heart beating steadily in her chest despite the clamminess to her skin, her lip bleeding with the extent to which she was chewing on it.

“Val-”

“I am happy to say you have not failed me. You provided me something invaluable, something which none of my other Hunter’s could provide.” The squid-like humanoid begins, gravelly voice reverberating around the enclosing walls. “I also understand that Clone Trooper’s are not something you hunt, and I appreciate the compromise you made for me. You shall be rewarded for your efforts.”

The panic in her heart immediately wanes, a breath releasing from her chest in a hopeful sigh. She had done it- this was it.

“But,” The tall being leans forward in his chair, clawed fingers gripping at the armrests. “the cargo was damaged.”

“A blaster shot to the leg was the only way to-”

“Excuses!” He bellows, rising from his chair and silencing the young woman, her teeth grinding and jaw clenching. “Do you realise how important this shipment is?! The Empire will not take such excuses!” He leans back into his chair, legs crossing leisurely. “No, original payment will not be given.”

“But-!” Aeris begins, eyebrows furrowed in fury and hands balled into fists, taking a step forward. A clawed hand landing on her shoulder has her halting in her steps, one of the two Trandoshans guarding the doors having approached. Her chest shudders with a breath as his claws tighten around her shoulder- her concealed eyes flicker to her weapons at the other side of the room. 

“Original payment of absolution of debts is withdrawn - you remain indebted to me until I deem it so.” Aeris’ mind frazzles, this had been her chance - her one chance. “Your freedom is mine and you will honour this until my death, or yours.”

“You were never going to give me my freedom.” She spits, fury boiling the blood in her veins. 

“Impress me, one day you might earn it.” His head tilts to the side. “Financial payment is in order, thankfully I foresaw such an occurrence and have the funds.” He produces a small bag of credits, placing it on the floor beside his feet. “But,” His voice takes on a playful tilt, and Aeris’ blood quickly simmers and runs cold as his dead eyes stare gleefully at her. “I think it is fair to say you have been far too disrespectful during this entire negotiation. You offer me damaged goods and then dare offer an excuse? And then, even more blasphemous, you dare challenge my genuinity, my honour.” He nods to himself, waving a webbed hand. “It seems you have forgotten you place, I am sure Kron will have no problem reminding you.”

Aeris gasps in a shuddering breath as one of the Trandoshans guards returns to her side, the other remaining at the door. The beast truly was a machine, rippling muscle protected by layers of thick scaly skin. She swallows in a lame attempt to control her nerves, the anger lapping at her insides quelled with the fear that seized her. She had been so close- so close to this never happening again. 

“You know the protocol Aeris, mask off. I need to see that you understand this lesson.”

They both understood that he just liked to watch people get hurt. Yet, he played along with the pretences anyway.

She stood for a moment, a war raging in her mind- her pride desperately wanted to fight the humiliation she was about to be forced to endure. Wisdom reminded her of all the times before, of all the beatings that had been give, of all the lessons that had been taught, again and again, until she learnt. The helmet would be taken from her anyway, when she was too bloody and too close to unconsciousness to put up a fight, and she would be beaten again, without the helmet.

She steps purposefully to the corner of the room, determined not to show any fear, though the shaking of her hands betrayed her. With a click the helmet is removed and placed delicately on the smooth floor. She takes her time setting the item down, shrugging her jacket off for good measure - from past experience she had learnt that solid objects within the jackets often hurt more than a typical beating. 

As she steps into the centre of the room, brunette locks falling unceremoniously around her thin face, she tunes in to the conversation again. 

“-make it hurt but not crippling, she needs to be able to work for me again soon after this.”

“Before the lesson begins, do you have anything to say for yourself? An apology perhaps?” Val was far too excited for the ordeal about to unfold, his tentacles twitching in excitement as he leant out of his chair.

Aeris levels the creature with a sour stare, a million insults bouncing around her skull as she watches the fucking squid practically writhe in excitement. Out of all the creative fish-based insults floating around her head, she opts for a simple yet precise phrase, one to truly portray her fury.

“Fuck you.”

Val grins, pointy teeth glimmering in the harsh light. 

“Kron, make sure this one hurts.”

---

Aeris didn’t know how long she remained in that overbearingly underwhelming room, curled in on herself with her arms protectively wrapped around her head, counting the dull thudding of blood in her ears and dead to the world around her. She didn’t know when the beatings had stopped, nor did she know when Val Vondar had left the room with his bodyguards, leaving her alone with only her pain and regret for company. She didn’t know what was to happen to Rook, she didn’t know if she had already been given another assignment, and she didn’t know what she was to do next, her plans for the future destroyed in a single afternoon.

All she did know was that she was hurt, and angry, but that more importantly she had to get home, and to do that, she had to get up.

With a pained groan her hands tentatively fall from their guard around her skull, her shoulders aching as she finally allows their tension to seep away, instead winding them around her bruised torso, dirtied and bloodied cheek pressing against the concrete floor as she finally begins to survey the damage. Her body throbbed from head to toe, though the cold that seeped into her bones from the cement beneath her dulled her senses, and a headache reverberated around her skull, emanating from a sharp pain at the junction between her head and neck. She winces as her eyes squint open, flinching away from the fluorescent lights casting deep dark shadows across the room. With a groan and a gasp she pushes herself unsteadily onto her hands and knees, head hanging low as her hazy eyes fix on her scraped knuckles, palms flat against the cement floor. Her arms ache with the effort to support her weight, and every breath sucked into her lungs sets her torso alight with pain, her ribcage protesting against every breath. The cold had numbed her legs completely, and it took immense concentration to find her footing beneath her as she pushed herself upright, stumbling up onto her legs, hands out ready as the world spun around her. 

“Fuck.” She groans, grimacing and grasping at her sides as pain bloomed, slowly straightening despite her bodies protests. 

Too harsh a grip has her seeing stars and nearly tumbling to the floor again, her palms pressing flat against her right side in a useless effort to repair the damaged ribs that pressed against her bruised skin. As she stumbles to her belongings in the corner of the room her vision slowly begins to seep back, her peripheral slowly coming back into focus as she blinked rapidly, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to claw up her throat. 

She grunts as she leans down, shaking hand grasping her jacket from the floor which she slowly shrugs on, wincing at the effort but distracted as her red-rimmed eyes survey the credits strewn about her feet, and the open bag carelessly thrown in her belongings’ direction. Of course, she thinks bitterly, of course he wouldn’t even make this easy. Though she had half a mind to leave the credits and write the bounty off altogether, she swallowed her pride and slowly lowers herself to the cool ground and begins collecting the credits, gritting her teeth and mumbling obscenities all the while - she may as well get something out of this ordeal.

Hauling herself to her feet with the help of the nearest wall, right hand gripping the rough material with scraped palms, she licks her teeth, spitting blood onto the floor uncaring about the mess. The familiar metallic taste coated her mouth and throat, and she wipes her mouth with her free hand, wincing at the aggravation to her split lip. With feeling slowly returning to her legs she makes for the exit, heavy boots thudding against the solid floor breaking the tense silence. She slides her familiar mask back onto her face, wincing at the pressure on her skull but thankful for the relief it offered from the overbearing lights. Though her actions were pained and sluggish, left hand still cradling her right side, and right hand tugging at the underside of her helmet in the hopes of relieving some of the pressure, she emerges from the compound mere moments later. She doesn’t glance back as she disappears into the ongoing bustling crowds that lined the streets, slipping back into obscurity just as quickly as she had left it.

---

By the time Aeris stumbled back onto her ship she was practically doubled over, almost falling through the doorway to the main hull as the door slid shut behind her, cursing through quick breaths as she catches herself on the centre table, knuckles white with how hard she gripped its ledge, fighting the urge to heave her guts out whilst still wearing her mask. Sweat pooled across her brow and down her neck, a thick layer of grime coating her damp skin. The journey home had been uneventful, the blasters at her hips warding off competition and salesmen alike, but the crowds had been relentless, and the jostling had done little to improve her condition. 

Carelessly dropping her mask to the floor, the brunette gasps a deep breath, pain written plainly across her sharp features. Her jacket follows suit, shrugged from her boney shoulders with a wince and thrown across the table, uncaring for where it landed. Shuffling to a hidden compartment on the furthermost wall, shaking hands reach into a divot, fumbling for a few moment before a resonant click accompanies a neighbouring panel lurching open to reveal a small bathroom. Aeris sighs with relief as she leans against a small basin, immediately splashing her face with cool water and raking her hands through her disheveled locks, pushing her bangs from her face. Her dark gaze finally lifts to a mirror above the basin as her hands rest in the cool water, soothing the cuts and grazes she had sustained. A cracked and smudged reflection stares back at her, her mouth pressing into a thin line and her eyebrows furrowing at the sight that greeted her. As usual, she looked gaunt and worn, deep bags under her bright eyes extenuating her sharp gaze and harrowing stare, lean physique only adding to the misconceived frailness of her being. 

Already a bruise blossomed along her left cheek and curved its way around her eye, the familiar splattering of red and yellow warning of a shiny hue still to come. Her right cheek, though not bruised, had been scraped against the cement floor, and now an angry array of red welts raised beneath fresh open grazes, blood mixing with the water to slowly trickle down her hollow cheek. Her gaze briefly fell to a scar winding its way behind her neck, its glossy edge only visible peaking from beneath her slicked locks, before she pulls her gaze away, squaring herself with an indignant look.

Preparing herself with a deep breath her hands come to grab the material of her shirt, an audible whimper catching in her throat as she tugs the garment off, ribs and shoulders protesting. 

“Fucking hell.” She curses, throwing the shirt to the side and gasping a breath, attempting to disturb her ribs as little as possible with every intake. Kron may as well have been an artist given the smattering of colour that decorated her pale skin, bright and angry hues of red spontaneously wound their way across her hips and stomach, concentrated bursts of a deeper crimson, already beginning to fade away to a hideous purple-black, wove its way along her sides and across each individual rib. The bruising disappeared beneath the tight binding she wore on her chest, and though its tightness pained her more with every breath and twist, she left it be, not willing to wrestle free from the constricting garment and cause more pain than necessary. Her right side was the worst of all, a particularly worrisome lashing of purple winding around her ribcage. She grimaces at the stinging reminder as she dabbles a damp wash-cloth across her skin, gingerly dabbing at the most tender areas, yet grateful of the numbing effect on her beaten skin. 

With every passing moment the pain and nausea lessened, giving way to a myriad of emotions Aeris would rather not dwell on. She had been so close, so close to being free of all of this. Though Val rarely called on her with such pressing demands, unlike this last bounty, the constant threat of being summoned back to the Quarren’s clutches to do his bidding hung heavy across her shoulders. Disobedience would lead to death - her last moments spent hunted by those she may have considered colleagues, or perhaps mutually-beneficial competition, but there was no longer anywhere truly hidden in the galaxy, not for people like her, not anymore. 

She can feel the blood pumping through her veins, solely propelled by her frustration alone, something sinister and disheartening clawing its way up her throat and seizing her chest. She was furious, she was devastated, she was incensed and beyond consolable. Dark eyes glowered at the new lesson that had been beaten across her skin, insults and nonsense echoing around her skull, Aeris unsure herself who they were actually aimed at - Val? Herself? The Universe? All of it, fuck it all.

Unfortunately, this feeling was not foreign. And its’ familiarity only frustrated her more. 

She felt suffocated. Mounting frustration at her fate, at her carelessness in her youth, in allowing herself to be indebted. When she had had nowhere left to turn, where the monster’s clawed hands and webbing lies seemed the only chance for survival, when she had thought debts could be repaid - foolish, foolish, foolish.

As righteous as her fury felt, and as comforting as it was compared to wallowing in despair at her failure, Aeris was exhausted. Every muscle and bone ached, her eyes so worn and tired every blink felt sand-scratched. The week had been gruelling, tirelessly chasing Rook across a planet’s worth of deserts in the hope of bringing her bounty back on time. She had seldom slept, nor had a proper meal, and her body craved the former, her feet feeling like lead in her boots. Turning from the mirror, leaving her shirt behind, she saunters towards the bloodied sofa and table in the centre of the room, grabbing a small bag from a shelf on the way.

She collapses onto her seat, head lolling back, stretching her neck and back with a grunt. Truly, her anger had finally melted away, subdued beneath a familiar mix of despair and grief settled in her stomach. Her gaze falls to the bottles of blue and white liquid already grasped in her hands. From her bag she produces a syringe and a pipette, laying them onto the table carefully. First, the pipette, the brunette fiddling with the cap of the white liquid - Sweetblossom - with well-practiced hands. 5 drops is all it takes before she’s sealing the liquid away again, savouring the familiar tingling warmth spreading from her mouth to her stomach as her focus turns instead to the jewel of her collection - the iridescent blue of SLV-16. She could already feel the tension seeping from her muscles as she prepares the syringe full of the bright liquid, its potent fruity smell filling her nose as she stashes the bottles away, being sure to secure their caps. She doesn’t think as she plunges the syringe into her left arm, her vein flashing beneath her skin as the liquid disperses - she doesn’t want to think.

Empty syringe discarded back into the small bag, and mind already grinding to a steady halt, she places her blasters onto the table in front of her, pushing them out of arms reach as her eyelids flutter. She leans back, legs propped against the dirtied table as her eyes flutter to the ceiling, blown pupils already beginning to haze. With every second she feels her mind begin to numb, the aches and pains of her body numbed and forgotten, the world blurring at the edges, and her worries melt into nothingness - all will and willpower obsolete, with nothing but the humming of the hull to accompany her to slumber.

---

Aeris’ jolts awake from her dreamless sleep, wrenched from a comforting dark abyss to the confines of her ship, shuddering breathes wracking her chest as her wild blood-shot gaze flits about the room, alert and fearing an intrusion. Her head tilts to the side, brain finally recognising the annoying shrill of her communicator from with her jacket. She reaches forward sluggishly, already planning to ignore the bounty and return to her peaceful slumber, but when she pulls the small circular device from her pocket, those thoughts all but vanish.

All air is sucked from her lungs as her wide red-rimmed gaze glares unwavering at the hologram before her, her mind and body numb with shock and horror. Her heart rattles against her ribcage and her mind frazzles as memories of a reality long since abandoned force themselves to the forefront of her mind, faces and voices that had haunted her for an age dancing behind her eyelids, pangs of sorrow and regret seizing her chest and strangling her lungs. Her throat was tight - too tight - and her mouth as parched as the salt-flats of Tatooine, an uncomfortable mix of disbelief and irritation churning her stomach. Her knuckles turn white with the force with which she gripped the small device, her face almost as pale with all colour sapped from her cheeks.

The air feels icy against her skin and yet perspiration forms along her brow, hairs on her neck standing on end. 

Her eyes stare unblinking at the little hologram dancing across her screen, a familiar yet aged face staring back at her.

That’s fucking Obi-wan Kenobi.

#obi wan kenobi #obiwan #kenobi #obiwankenobi #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi fanfic #Star Wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x oc #Star Wars oc #Star Wars x oc #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #Desiderium #whump #reader whump #oc whump #star wars whump

[ducky-died-inside]

So for people who remember this post, there's a second chapter now.

I'm sorry but please feel free to scream at me.

#steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n #steve #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #hurt steve harrington #reader whump #major character death #stranger things 4 #stranger things

[celtic-crossbow]

Almost done with Whumptober prompt 9. I’ve also knocked out 16, 21, and 27 by including them in 1-9. So I think I’m doing okay. I got this!

I think I’ll write something none Whumptober today. I want some fluff or angst. And just something to post. I miss it.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon whump #Reader whump #daryl dixon fanfiction

[waitimcomingtoo]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous

Masterlist

“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.

“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.

“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.

“What?” You asked him.

“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.

“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.

“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.

“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.

“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.

“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.

“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.

“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.

“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”

“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”

“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.

“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.

“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”

“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.

“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“What do I do?” He whined.

“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.

“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.

“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.

“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”

“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”

“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.

“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.

“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.

“Are you?” You asked quietly.

“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.

“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.

“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.

When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.

“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.

“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.

“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.

“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.

“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”

“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.

“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”

“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.

“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.

“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”

“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”

“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”

“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.

“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.

“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.

“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.

“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”

“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”

“So you hate me now? All because I un-“

“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.

“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.

“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.

“What did you do?” Effie asked him.

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”

“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.

“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”

“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”

“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.

“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”

“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.

“I need to fix this.”

“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.

“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.

“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.

“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”

“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.

“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.

“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.

“What are you doing in here? Get out.”

“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.

“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.

“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.

“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”

“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.

“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”

“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.

“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.

“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.

“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.

“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.

“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.

“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”

“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.

“Me either.”

“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.

“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.

“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “

“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”

“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.

“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”

“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”

“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.”

“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.

“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.

“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”

“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.

“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.

“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.

“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.

“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.

“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.

“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark whump #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta x reader

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #marvel au #bucky barnes au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky fanfic

[bebx]

“I don’t need therapy because my comfort characters are my therapy” and it turns out the comfort characters in question are the ones who need therapy the most

#henry creel #jamie campbell bower #vecna #sweeney todd #will byers #stranger things #blorbo #meme #memes #whump #angst #fandom #fandoms #art the clown #loki #slasher x reader #slasher x you #loki x you #loki x reader #hannibal #slasher #fandom memes #humor #comedy #dark humor

[whatthetumblfck]

It Was Supposed to Be Easy

Summary:  Steve’s eyes glazed over with tears he refused to let fall. He couldn’t give up. This isn’t how the mission goes. It was supposed to be easy. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.

Word Count: 1924

Warnings: swearing (obviously), violence, injuries, near death

Content: Steve Rodgers (Captain America) x reader whump fic. I got carried away again, but I tried to reel it in. Tried. 

Please don’t claim my work as your own. 

_____________________________________________________________

“I thought you said this would be a walk in the park, Steve,” you voiced into the comm.  You ducked behind a parked car and reloaded your pistol as bullets pelted the metal just inches above your head.

“There weren’t supposed to be this many.” Steve sounded out-of-breath.

You quickly peered over the trunk of the car, scanning the street for Steve, and firing a few rounds.  You didn’t see him.

“We need to have a conversation about where you get your intel,” you retorted.

With one last look, you bolted from your position behind the car and ran in the direction you last saw Steve.  Bullets showered the area as you ran, every one of them miraculously managing to miss you. You dove over the median and took cover behind a truck.

“I mean…” you were breathing heavily now. “There’s a big difference between 10 bad guys and 30 bad guys.”  A figure appeared in your peripheral vision, and you quickly fired a shot, eliminating the threat before holstering your weapon.

“Now is not the time, Y/N,” Steve reprimanded, throwing a man twice his size over his shoulder. He was clearly irritated at the situation, and you, admittedly, were not helping.

Directing your attention back to the fight, you threw a punch, hitting one attacker in the jaw and knocking him out, before turning and landing a kick to another one in the chest. But the second attacker barely budged. Confusion crossed your features as a revolting smile spread across the attacker’s face.  The fuck? He stepped toward you. You took a step back and spun, raising your leg to deliver a more powerful kick, but he caught your leg. Oh shit. A terrifying realization washed over you. You quickly reached for your gun, but he grabbed your wrist and threw you several feet, your body slamming into the hot asphalt of the highway, your firearm skidding away from you. “Aaghhh!” you let out a pain-filled scream as you landed, certain you must have cracked a few ribs. You scrambled to put distance between yourself and the enemy, clutching your side with one arm, struggling to pull air back into your lungs.

“Y/N?!” Steve yelled. You couldn’t tell if his voice was coming from your earpiece or somewhere nearby. Hopefully, the latter.

At first you couldn’t respond. You were still trying to get to your feet. It must have taken you too long because you heard Steve’s voice again.

“Y/N! ……Answer me!” he pleaded.

“Steve…” you wheezed, “super sol—” you were cut off abruptly by a hand around your throat. You were extremely capable of handling yourself, but you weren’t enhanced. You were no match for a super soldier’s strength. There weren’t supposed to be any here. There weren’t supposed to be any more anywhere. They thought all the serum had been destroyed. They were wrong.

The fingers around your neck tightened as you felt yourself being lifted off the ground. No air was moving in or out of your lungs. You couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t call for help. You hoped Steve had heard you. Both of your hands gripped the super-soldier’s wrist, frantically trying to release his hold. Your head pounded as you kicked your legs out, but you were losing strength. The world around you started to spin as your oxygen depleted, and a sudden fatigue took hold of you. Your vision became dark, and your eyelids grew heavy. Your grip on his wrist loosened and your arms fell to your sides as your eyes closed. Suddenly, you were falling.

 Steve’s eyes widened in fear as he heard your strangled warning. He moved quickly, neutralizing every combatant in his path, no longer bothering to pull his punches. As he ran towards the overpass, he spotted you, your body twisting helplessly in the grasp of HYDRA’s latest experiment.  He willed his body to move faster, but he wasn’t going to get to you in time. Steve watched as your arms fell to your sides and your body stilled.

“NOOOOO!” he yelled. And with all his strength, he threw his shield, bouncing it off the back of the other super-soldier’s head. You both dropped.

***

Steve crashed to his knees beside you, “Nonononono”.

He gently shook your shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to wake up!”

When he got no response from you, he leaned forward putting his ear to your chest. He heard nothing. No breathing. No heartbeat.

“Nonono, don’t do this! Come on, Y/N!” Steve lifted your chin to blow air into your lungs. Then clasped his hands over your chest and started compressions. Steve’s eyes glazed over with tears he refused to let fall. He couldn’t give up. This isn’t how the mission goes. It was supposed to be easy. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.

After a couple of agonizingly long minutes, your eyelids flew open, and you took a loud, shuddered breath. Fear swept over you. You kicked your legs, frantically backing away from Steve’s reach as you continued to gasp for air.

“Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re okay,” Steve tried to soothe you. “Just breathe.” He followed his own words and breathed a sigh of relief, a tear finally sliding down his cheek.

You took another deep breath and started coughing violently as Steve sat you upright. He rubbed comforting circles on your back as he encouraged your lungs to fill with air. Your body seemed to relax a little, but your eyes darted around, searching for the threat.  He seemed to notice your unease, “We’re okay. It’s over. You’re safe.” And as he said this, your eyes landed on the super-soldier that had very nearly crushed your windpipe.

“Steve…” you croaked, your voice straining against the swelling of your neck.

“Ssshhh. Don’t try to talk. Just focus on breathing.”

You ignored him and continued, “I’m so sorry. I fucked up.” You blinked back tears coming to terms with your nearly fatal mistake.

“What are you—don’t apolog-“ Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“I should have been paying more attention. If---if..”

“Y/N…” Steve tried.

“If I had just gotten to my gun a little faster then-“

“Y/N STOP!”

You stilled instantly. Steve never yelled, especially at you and it took you off guard.

“He almost fucking killed you! You weren’t breathing and I couldn’t hear your heart beating, and I didn’t think I was going to get you back and this is MY fault, damnit!”

Steve stared furiously into your eyes, trying to get you to understand. It was evident that he wasn’t mad at you. He was angry with himself.

“I’m the one who trusted the bad intel! It’s my fault you got hurt!”

You instantly regretted your words from earlier. You didn’t mean what you said. As far as you’re concerned, it was just playful bantering. You didn’t mind the challenge and neither one of you could have had any idea there was a super soldier in the midst.

“Steve….there’s no way you could have…” you started to push yourself off the ground and Steve hooked his arm around your back giving you support, but you suddenly gasped, face contorting with pain. You tucked your arm in, splinting your side.

He slowly lowered you to the ground. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes searched your body frantically before landing on your side.

“Aaaggh, fuck! My side.” you ground out the words between clenched teeth. Between your throat and your side, you were now painfully aware of each breath you took.

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s okay,” you tried to reassure him. “I think I just cracked a couple ribs when he threw me.”

“When he—” Steve stopped himself. “Jesus, Y/N, just let me look. Please.”

After a moment of consideration, you leaned back and Steve carefully lifted the hem of your shirt to reveal dark purple bruising and scrapes covering your side.

Steve was silent for a moment as he stared at your injury. His expression was unreadable. You tried to control your breathing in an attempt to control the pain.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, fear coming back to his features.

“No…I don’t..think so,” you answered breathlessly. Trying to take a mental inventory of individual pains when your whole body is screaming at you, is taxing and damn near impossible.

“Y/N….”

“No. It just….it hurts. Can we go now? Please?” You were in so much pain, the thought of moving was horrifying, but laying in the street was worse.

Steve narrowed his eyes in concern as you attempted to stand up again. You painstakingly made it a few dozen Steve-assisted yards before you needed a break. You could feel your ribs shifting with every step and every breath.

“You okay?” Steve asked. It was a stupid question and he knew it, but you insisted on carrying yourself out of this shit-show.

“Yeah, yeah. Just need to catch my breath for a minute.” In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could do it, but Steve felt guilty enough. You didn’t want to rub your pain in his face any more than you already have.

“Catch your breath? You haven’t been breathing right since…..” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Steve, I’m okay. I just need a….” You started to sway a little as dizziness swept over you. You forgot what you were trying to say.

You were leaning on Steve more now, unable to hold yourself up at this point. He cradled your face in his hand as your head rolled to the side.

“Y/N? Hey- Look at me!” You weren’t completely unconscious, but you couldn’t get your body or your mouth to cooperate. “Shit!”

Steve scooped you up in his arms and ran for the jet.

*****24 HOURS LATER*****

How long will she need to stay here?

She suffered damage to her lung, like a bruise. It could have been a lot worse, but I’d like to keep her at least another day, just to be safe.

You forced your eyes open, the voices just outside the door helping to bring you to the surface of consciousness. You heard the door creak and watched as Steve “snuck” into the room.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are, Cap,” you whispered from under the oxygen mask.

You caught the look of surprise in his eyes, and he smiled. “And you’re supposed to be resting.” He sat in the chair beside your bed.

“I’m tired,” you complained.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Of resting,” you clarified.

“It’s only been a day. They just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am okay.”

“Almost dying twice in the last 24 hours is not my definition of okay.”

“The second time doesn’t count,” you argued.

“What? How does it not count?”

“I don’t know….it just…doesn’t.” Your eyes were getting heavy again and you were having a hard time following the conversation as fatigue crept up on you again.

Steve’s face softened as he watched you drift to sleep again, pausing a moment before deciding to reach out and take hold of your hand.

A second later, he felt your fingers tighten around his.

“Thanks for not letting me die, Steve,” you whispered gently.

If your eyes were open, you would have seen the crooked, half-smile on his face.

“Anytime…..thanks for coming back to me, sweetheart.” He brought your hand up to place a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

After a few more moments of silence, he thought you had finally fallen asleep until he heard, “Anytime.”

#medical whump #reader whump #whump #Avengers #avenger reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 8

Part (8) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

At a whopping 27,000 words, this accidentally became the biggest arc in the series. Oops. Anyway, I've certainly been a bit possessed about getting it done, so here yuh go!

Warnings: Honestly, aside from the standard guilt and regret, this chapter is mostly fluff

WC: 2,913

He held me until my breath eased back into a quiet, rhythmic ebb and flow free of even the occasional hitched gasp. At some point, he’d shifted just enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, hand lightly clasped around the back of my neck as his fingers trailed absently atop the skin peaking out between my blacks and hairline. Part of me knew I shouldn’t stay like this; that hiding against him only delayed confronting the guilt I’d see in Wolffe’s eyes, the trepidation and doubt in Cody’s, but it was so easy to pretend otherwise, to keep my face nestled against his throat and let all thought of what responsibility awaited us beyond those walls fade as seconds turned into minutes.

A crippling realization struck me in that moment. I was hiding. I was hiding from the risk of another mission and another near disaster. I was hiding from the damage that had already been caused and the inevitable destruction still awaiting me. I was hiding from the certainty that even worse might be befall those around me at any moment; doubtless of just how effortlessly that might break whatever fleeting reserves of strength somehow managed to keep me going through all that had already happened, and I knew that that very fear of them getting hurt was likely the only thing keeping me from yielding that I might be there to help them in any way I could.

But it wasn’t just the fear of impending nightmares that kept me curled in the arms of a man I remembered hiding from so many months prior, back when we were strangers and I shied from the intensity that burned in his eyes when faced with even a simple question; the deep quiet he’d fall into while considering every aspect of a problem before coming to a decision, and the unease that would fill me at the mere thought of finding myself the subject of that frightening focus. So much had happened since then, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but grateful for his presence in that moment, for the calm he granted me even as reality seemed to shift with a wretched understanding.

I was hiding from Wolffe; from the way his voice had threatened to break when last we spoke, from the tension that stole the effortless visage of command from him whenever we’d found ourselves alone. I was hiding from the squad that I could no longer think of as mine, from the longing in their eyes for a time that was now gone and would never again grant us the incredible breadth of comfort once gleaned from the sense of family we had found in each other, now felt only with a nostalgia tarnished by the horrors filling these past few days.

I wanted to weep anew at the thought of those coming farewell’s weighted beneath guilt and regret and the want for a denial we knew to be useless. In that moment, I longed to let myself be weak; to beg Hunter to tell Wolffe to leave that I wouldn’t have to face him at all, and I hated myself for that weakness.

The gentle dance of his touch stilled; fingers half buried in my hair as he subtly turned his gaze toward me; waiting. I drew a slow, resigned breath, held it in a final plea for even a few seconds’ more of a delay, and finally let it out in a controlled sigh as I pulled away from him.

“Thank you.” I whispered, eyes raising to just glimpse his. His thumb swept once more along the length of my neck before finally letting his hand fall briefly to my arm and then to the floor near his waist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Doc.” He replied softly, attention carefully locked on me. My lips drew up in an empty smile as I turned to glance thoughtlessly around the room. When I began to draw movement back into my limbs, weight shifting to balance atop a knee in preparation of forcing myself to my feet, Hunter quickly reached back out to me, arm looping around my shoulders as though anticipating the way my muscles would instantly waver at that first hint of strain. I was no stranger to the way grief and fear and panic left one so hopelessly drained yet always found myself unprepared for how ruthlessly that exhaustion struck. Unphased, I leaned into his support; let myself rely on his strength in the absence of my own as he carefully pulled me up alongside him.

“If we stay in here much longer, they might get the wrong idea.” I muttered, peaking towards him to see the way his brow cocked in surprise, but he let out a quiet chuckle at the weary smirk I managed to shoot him.

“The last thing I need is Crosshair hearing those kinds of rumors from regs…” He grumbled back, and I was shocked at how easily the huff of laughter escaped me. “Are you okay to walk?” He asked, voice dropping into a whisper as though that might prevent it from robbing us of that brief, precious moment of lightness. I nodded, forcing my back straight despite the reluctance weighing down my shoulders. “Alright.” He murmured and I tried to ignore the chill left in the wake of his touch as he slowly stepped away from me.

Whatever conversation had filled the silence beyond the office walls ceased with a harsh finality the instant that door began to open. I could feel Hunter standing just behind me, attention still following my every movement as though I might tumble without warning. Cody was the first to approach me, helm tucked under his arm and expression still somehow void of the disappointment I kept expecting to find.

“Commander, I-” He dismissed whatever attempt at an apology I was still trying to piece together with a simple wave of his hand and subtle shake of his head.

“Just get to the barracks and try to get some rest.” The innate authority in his voice was softened by a compassion that I still found myself shocked to hear from someone in his position and could only respond with a small nod.

“I can come back tomorrow – answer any other questions you have.” I offered, but he again dismissed it.

“Between what you’ve already told me and what I discussed with Commander Wolffe, there’s no need for that. Just take some time; try not to lose yourself in what happened.” He barely whispered those final words, willing them into me with a quiet understanding that I couldn’t begin to pretend I didn’t need. He ducked his head in a small bow before stepping past me into his office, and I hesitated just a moment longer before turning toward Wolffe.

“Guess I overestimated myself.” I mumbled, voice straining past the stiffness in my jaw, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to the subtle feeling of Hunter’s hand coming to rest against the armor sweeping across my lower back, nor my inability to deny the depth of comfort it gave me.

“No one’s holding that against you.” He replied softly before his gaze shifted to the man behind me. “Take care of her.” There was none of that disdain he’d once regarded Hunter with; no sneer of disapproval, and Hunter mirrored that unspoken respect with a silent nod.

“Wolffe.” I called hesitantly just as he’d begun to walk away, nearly cringing at the remorse in my own voice; the threat of shame. “I don’t… Will you tell the others I’ll be okay? I just… I can’t…” How could I explain the way it would cripple me to see their guilt again? To hear their apologies despite knowing they’d done nothing to warrant such sorrow?

“Don’t worry about them.” He explained, voice quiet but no less commanding for it. “Just be safe, kid.” There… just lingering beneath that infallible composure… Even Wolffe couldn’t keep the traces of an apology from his farewell. Gaze falling lest I note even a glimmer of regret in those stern eyes, I fought to offer some trace of a smile before turning away. The sense of finality in that farewell left my breath trembling slightly, and even the way Hunter shifted nearer to me did little to ease the sense of loss twisting through my chest.

-

“Cody’s already granting us clearance for the mission details.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, gaze once more hidden behind that dark visor as we walked unhurried through the corridors of the Negotiator. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it…” My head fell slightly at the gentle invitation, and I knew he could hear how my heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. When I gave no answer, he didn’t press, but I couldn’t dispel the tension that lingered in the silence between us.

“I don’t think Wrecker’s ever going to let you go off on another mission without us.” He added a moment later, somehow managing to sow a wisp of humor into his voice, and a small scoff escaped me.

“Even if it’s the 104th calling you again?” There was something beneath the teasing lilt in his voice, but I was too weary to try to name it.

“Given my track record, I don’t think he’ll hear any arguments from me…” I grumbled.

“I didn’t know I’d be working with them this time until after I’d boarded the transport.” His helm shifted toward me, and I could easily picture the way his brows had surely risen above eyes widened with surprise. “But, no.” I added quietly, pace unchanged as I tried not to think too deeply on the painful words slipping over my tongue. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to work with them again.” Hunter stopped walking. I didn’t, intent on not falling back into the remorse that was all too eager to overwhelm me again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, treading back to my side. I gave a weak shrug, collecting my thoughts a moment before responding.

“Too much has changed… Besides, they have a jedi watching their backs. Without me, you lot only have dumb luck and sheer stubbornness.” A quiet chuckle just sounded through his comm system, and I found myself joining him in with a snicker of my own as his hand reached up to lightly jostle my helmet. It was heartbreaking – that conscious understanding that I no longer belonged with the 104th, but I had harbored no doubts that it was the right choice; that the 99 had become my family in a way the others never could.

-

“Doc!” Wrecker’s shout boomed through the nearly empty barracks, and I barely had time to draw in breath for a reply I never got to speak before his arms locked around my waist to hoist me up in an embrace far softer than his normal hugs. Still, laughter sputtered from my lips at the welcomed display of affection I would always treasure from the man, hand automatically darting out to his shoulder to steady myself despite the knowledge that he’d never let me fall.

“It’s almost like you missed me or something.” I teased, earning a brilliant smile from him that was so utterly free of shame or hesitation as he gently set me back down.

“Those regs need to find their own nat-born next time! It’s not fair for them to just come and steal yuh away whenever they want.” He complained, hands lingering on my hips for just a moment longer to ensure I was steady before stepping back.

Two rows of double bunks stretched out before me in a room designed to hold at least a company of one hundred though the entirety of it had been reserved for our tiny squad. Crosshair stood leaning against one of the upper bunks a few rows away with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, attention locked on me from the corner of his eye while Echo and Tech sat together atop a lower cot a mere handful of strides from the door, the telltale mess of cables strewn between them warning of some half-started project.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I reassured him in a gentle sigh. “Pretty sure this was a one-time thing.” I could see the concern lingering in his gaze despite his efforts to hide it beneath his usual glee, the subtle threat of anger it fueled, and had to look away.

“Hey stranger.” I said softly. His chest bucked slightly around a sharp breath, mouth just beginning to open before closing tightly in a final bout of hesitation, but then he let out a small huff, forcing some of that tightness from his shoulders.

The instant I glimpsed him, the arc quick pushed himself to his feet, eyes torn between meeting my gaze and darting away as his jaw tensed around whatever attempt at a greeting caught in his throat. Had he been there when I first landed? Had I simply been too lost in my own thoughts to notice? My heart sank at the thought, just managing to offer the ghost of a smile in the face of how stiffly he held himself.

“Hey.” He whispered, and I heard clearly the apology in it, but it was nothing like those plaguing every word uttered amongst the 104th. There was a warmth in his apology; a subtle self-deprecation softened with something near enough to humor that my smile bloomed with relief.

“I see you two have been making the most of this little vacation.” I started, looking pointedly at the assortment of mysteriously procured supplies. He glanced quickly over his shoulder as though he’d forgotten the project entirely before turning back to me.

“Echo suggested a few interesting modifications to his cybernetic legs.” Tech stated before his brother could try to explain. “This is merely the initial prototype. Rebuilding his legs entirely will take significantly longer than a few days, but this will allow us to test the efficiency of our new design.” I looked back to the arc with surprise and found him fighting a sheepish grin.

My head fell toward my chest, stomach churning with regret for having offered at all despite Tech’s automatic “thank you.” Swallowing back the anxiety threatening to coil through my gut, I finally let myself glance toward the tall sniper still watching me from just the corner of his eye, and the little thrill of glee that seeing him shot through me offered a precious sliver of relief. He barely reacted as I approached him, head just shifting to follow my movements until barely a foot lay between us, and I let out a heavy sigh full of mock guilt and remorse.

“Wow.” I chirped, pleased to hear they’d managed to be so productive despite how strained things had been over the past few weeks, “Let me know if you need any help synching it to the neural interface.” Echo’s face darkened for barely the breadth of a heartbeat, but it was enough to remind me that the effortless connection that once came so easily to us still lay far beyond my grasp.

“I may have jinxed myself.” I muttered, and a quiet chuckle escaped me at the way he cocked his brow, unimpressed by my admission. “Was I right? Did you mope the entire time I was gone?”

“Yes.” Hunter called from the front of the barracks, kindling my chuckle into a short burst of laughter as Cross shot his brother a lethal glare.

“Just got back and you’re already trying to cause trouble.” He growled under his breath, earning a coy smirk from me. Only then did he begin to abandon that impartial veneer, weight shifting as he pushed himself away from the bunks to reach for me, and I could feel my entire body lighten with the deep sigh that fled my lips at that first rush of warmth from his embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, words barely audible as they danced through my hair. The rote reassurance so nearly fell from my lips absent a moment’s thought before catching in my throat. I could feel him tense in those brief seconds of hesitation before I reluctantly shook my head.

“Not yet.” I answered, voice heavy with every unspoken reason forbidding me from trying to convince him otherwise. “But I’m really glad to be back.” He went still for a long moment, but then his arms tightened almost harshly around me, body curling over mine as though he might hide me from what darkness lingered behind the veil of empty smiles.

We both knew there would be no walking away from the damage wrought during my time apart from them, but I let myself relish that moment of stillness; the hum of quiet conversation between Hunter and Wrecker, the rhythmic clicks and hisses of tools augmenting metal and wire beneath Echo and Tech’s ministrations, the steady thrum of Crosshair’s heartbeat dancing against me as I rested my forehead to his neck, shamelessly letting myself vanish in that heady spice and tang of blasterfire. Every day spent fighting this war brought untold risks and dangers, but I held no reservations that this was exactly where I belonged, and no threat was great enough to see me leave them for even a moment more.

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[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Meeting Jacinth

Jacinth Masterlist

Y/N’s shoes crushed the leaves underfoot as she wandered aimlessly throughout the forest, searching for any sign of her campsite. She waved her phone in the air in front of her, trying to get a signal. The moon shone high in the night sky, but its pale light was shrouded by ghostly clouds. The trees towered over Y/N, their leaves rustling in the faint breeze. Y/N shivered and adjusted her backpack, pressing on through the undergrowth. She was starting to regret coming to this forest.

The more Y/N walked, the denser the woods became. That didn’t seem right. She had made camp in a clearing, where the trees were much smaller and further spaced apart. Nothing like what she was walking through now, where the roots of the trees broke through the soil in angry knots, and the branches above blocked out what little moonlight made its way through the night clouds.

Y/N whipped around when she heard a rustling noise from behind her. Shining the flashlight on her phone toward the source of the noise, she found nothing but foliage. It must’ve been a raccoon or something. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, only to be met with a tall figure. Y/N screamed in fright. She stumbled back and tripped over a root. The figure moved to catch her before she could fall.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said, “you startled me. I didn’t think anyone else was out here.”

The figure chuckled. Now she was up close, Y/N could see that he was a man, looking to be around her age, with long, dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. The night must’ve been playing tricks on her, because Y/N could swear that his skin had an azure hue.

“Are you alright?” the man asked.

“Yeah, I,” Y/N swallowed, “I’m okay.”

The stranger helped Y/N to her feet.

“What are you doing out so late?” the stranger asked, “it’s dangerous to wander this deep into the forest.”

“I got lost,” Y/N admitted, “I was hiking, and I lost track of time and by the time I figured I should head back… I didn’t know where I was…”

“I know these woods pretty well,” the stranger said, “maybe I could help you find your campsite?”

“You could!?” Y/N exclaimed, “I mean, uh, yeah, that’d be great, thank you.”

The stranger smiled and started to walk with Y/N back the way she had come. Y/N described the campsite to him; he nodded, seeming to know exactly where she was talking about.

“I’m Jacinth, by the way,” he said, “may I have your name?”

“I’m Y/N,” Y/N answered, “do you come camping here often?”

A glint seemed to flicker across Jacinth’s eyes.

“I live in these woods as a matter of fact,” Jacinth said, “do you enjoy camping?”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N said, “I love nature. I came here because I heard this forest was pretty secluded.”

“Indeed it is,” Jacinth agreed, “Stop here, Y/N.”

Suddenly, as though her body was on puppet strings, Y/N stopped in her tracks.

“What’s up?” Y/N asked.

“You’re going to be coming to live with me,” Jacinth said.

Alarm bells rang in Y/N’s head. So this guy wasn’t just a good Samaritan. Y/N’s knife was in her pocket, she just started to reach for it when-

“Relax, Y/N.”

Y/N’s arms dropped to her sides. Y/N was fully panicking now, but her body didn’t show it. She tried to move something, anything, but she just stood there. Jacinth moved so that he was standing in front of her. He gently removed her backpack from her shoulders. He took her phone out of her hand and tossed it to the ground.

“You won’t need those anymore,” he said softly.

Jacinth stepped behind Y/N. She followed him with her eyes until he was out of her line of vision. Her eyes widened and she wanted to yelp as she felt the world tilt on its axis. She looked up at Jacinth, who had swept her into a bridal carry.

“Foolish little human,” he chuckled, “adorable, but foolish.”

Jacinth began to carry her back the way they had come. Y/N wanted to scream, or to at least struggle, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Besides, Jacinth’s grip felt rather strong.

“Soon, we’ll be home,” Jacinth said, “I’ll wake you when we get there. For now, sleep Y/N.”

Y/N thought her body couldn’t feel any heavier, but she was soon corrected as she felt herself sinking into Jacinth’s grip. The stars above began to blur, and her eyelids started fluttering shut. The last thing Y/N registered before drifting off was Jacinth pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my little human.”

ko-fi

tags:  @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

#yandere writing #yandere whump #reader whump #fem reader #fae whumper #yandere fae #fae x reader #yandere community #writing #writeblr #creative writing #creative writing community #Jacinth x fem reader #OC x reader #whump #hurt/comfort #whump community #kidnapping #mind control

[thesandsofelsweyr]

Could you write fic based off of this img

《 ALSO ON AO3 》

Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️

The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.

“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”

His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands. 

A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.

“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.

“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”

She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”

#ty for the fabulous prompt!!! 🤩 #sands replies #sands writes #my arkhamverse #jason todd #female reader #arkham knight #red hood #arkhamverse #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #arkham knight imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd fanfiction #whump #hurt/comfort #dcu

[quicksilversg1rl]

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn

the hair???

🤣🤣 my kitty is MEOWING

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #peeta mellark #josh futturman #clapton davis #peeta mellark whump #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark angst #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut