#Part Eight

[iblameashley]

Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Civilian | Male | Gay

3,800~ words

Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.

Follow up to Something to look forward to

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.

Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.

So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.

And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.

“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.

“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.

Price was having none of it.

“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”

Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.

You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.

“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”

“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”

You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.

“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.

An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.

“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.

With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.

“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”

“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.

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Day 4

Its been four days. Four.

You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.

“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.

“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.

You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.

“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.

“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.

You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.

“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.

You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.

“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.

“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.

“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.

By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.

“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.

“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.

Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.

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Day 10

You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.

There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.

“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.

“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.

Then again.

And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.

“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.

You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.

Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.

You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.

“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.

Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.

“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”

There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.

“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.

“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.

You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.

“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.

Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.

The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.

“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”

There is was. You rolled your eyes.

“You're tolerable.” You shurg.

Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.

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Day 21

You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.

CRASH!

Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.

“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.

You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!

“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.

You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.

Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.

Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.

You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.

“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.

As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.

You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.

He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.

He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.

“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.

You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.

Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.

“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.

“'M fine.” He grumbles.

Liar.

“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.

You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.

“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.

“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.

You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.

“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.

“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.

Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

You don't look away from your phone.

“Don't have to.” You reply.

“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.

You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.

“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.

“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.

You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.

“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.

“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.

“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.

You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.

“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.

“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”

“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”

That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.

“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.

“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.

“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.

“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.

You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.

After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.

You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.

He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.

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Day 30

Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.

Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.

As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.

“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.

Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.

He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.

“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.

“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.

You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.

“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.

Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.

“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."

Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.

You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.

This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.

“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.

You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.

Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.

“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.

You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.

Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.

Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?

You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.

“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.

“'S fine.” Simon nodded.

As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.

“How about tonight?” He asked.

You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.

He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.

“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”

“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”

You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.

Staying another night.

With Simon.

You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.

#gay #gay men #lgbtq #cod #cod mwf2 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #ghost cod #simon x male #simon riley x male #simon riley x male reader #ghost x male #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #captain price #john price #sfw #story #short story #one shot #part eight #cause im a liar

[viveela]

Raise your hand if you would pay tweek to sign your yaoi fanarts

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#veearts #south park #sp fanart #tweek tweak #tolkien black #clyde donovan #jimmy valmer #creek comic #sp creek #part eight #fan comic #fan art #i need to give this comic a name #but anyway finally we are making it out of act one #yay yaoi time

[spockvarietyhour]

Masters of the Air Part Eight

#Masters of the Air #Tuskegee Airmen #Part Eight #Danny watches Masters of the Air

[artdivadej]

Survivor’s Remorse (VIII)

Part Eight

NSFW| 18+

Part 9 | Part 10

Peeta's hand just barely manages to catch my wrist, tugging with every ounce of strength he possessed as the claws on my ankles threaten to pull me down to the pits.

"It's ok.... just, let me go!" I smile up at him somberly

"Never!" he snarls through his teeth

Gale and Katniss are with him now, all tugging me up as they yell  not to give up. When my body flies through the lip of the cover, Peeta quickly tosses the Holo into the hole. It blows us all a good ten feet forward as guts and blood come flying out the sewer.

My head is in a million pieces. I push Peeta and the rest away from me.

"Go! Leave me here! I can hold them off. They want me! The mutt! Let them have me! I'm staying here where I belong! I'm their mutt!" I snarl unseeing to anything but my reflection in their disgusting eyeless faces as I yank at my hair wildly

Everything is crashing around me, atomic bombs going off in my head. It all burns. From head to toe the flames are swallowing me whole, just as they did to so many in 12.

Until I feel his lips on mine.

I feel whole with the sun overcoming any and all heat that tries to stand up against it, warming every atom of my being, swathing me in the scent of cinnamon and honey. His tongue slides between my lips as his searing kiss envelops me, drowning me with tenderness and passion. The flames are smothering. The bombs quieting. When I open my eyes, I see Peeta with a clarity I hadn't been able to after the Capitol had taken me. His honey toasted eyes hold mine with warmth and fear, the gold flecks pulsing and piercing through to a piece of me they’d attempted to tear from me.

"We promised" he gasps, his hand on my cheek, forehead against mine

"Stay with me" I breath against his lips

"Always"

Our promise. This I remember.

"Let's go" he nods before threading his fingers through mine and tugging me to my feet.

He sprints with me down the corridor. Gale and Pollux each have one of Finnick's arms over their shoulders as we dash forward, winding through the winding path that both Pollux and Cressida seem to have an internal map to.

The only thing keeping me anchored here was Peeta's hand in mine, his fingers squeezing every so often as he pulled me with him. Probably afraid I was still suicidal. Cressida checks the street and leads us to a safehouse as we wind down the intricate Capitol streets. It turns out to be a clothing store for fur and animal print clothing. The woman who opens the doors wears a large hood but, after some quick words about the rebellion and Plutarch from Cressida, she quickly ushers us inside.

When she removes her hood, I feel a deep compassion and kinship with her. So many body modifications to make her look like a tiger. She even had the stripes, eyes, teeth and metallic whiskers coming from both cheeks. This is what Snow wanted to do to me. This is what he could've done, had Haymitch and Cinna not interfered when and as often as they did. She looks me over with curiosity and I can't help but step up to her so we're barely 3 feet apart. Unlike everyone else that usually cowers at my proximity, she smiles. Peeta steps with me, still not trusting to let me go I suppose.

"I know you. You were a stylist for the games. Snow do this to you?"

"When he decided I wasn't committing to my name or pretty enough" she snarls, her pupils expanding with her rage

I tilt my head and smile widely at her, which she returns upon seeing my still bloody teeth.

"Me too. I'm on my way to kill him y'know"

"Sisters" she purrs

"Sisters" I purr back with a nod

She pats my cheek and then leads us to a trapdoor, handing Katniss a first aid duffle that she's thrown some cans of food into. I scrunch my nose at them but Tigress lets me know she understands my dietary needs and there's a few for me too. I give her a grateful smile and obediently let Peeta tug me down the stairs. When he finally releases my hand, we spur into action. Polluck and Finnick lay down a 12-foot by 6-foot mess of fur coats and throw rugs that Cressida dug out. Peeta lies Finnick down on it but he's fighting to keep his eyes open. I don't have much time.

"Take his top off. Every stitch of it" I order beginning to unsnap his vest

"What's wrong?" Gale asks as he and Peeta both start helping me, Pollux holding Finnick upright so we can do this more easily.

Shit. He's lost too much blood. When the shirt comes off, I see the bite has already turned a sickly purplish green.

I knew it.

"Please...don't shoot me. He'll die if you do" I sigh looking around the room "Pollux keep him up just like that"

They look baffled by my request not to be shot but nod their heads all the same. I climb onto Finnick's lap so I'm straddling him and gently tilt his head to the left so it rests against Gale's shoulder. It's hard to ignore the way Peeta's eyes darken, seeing me astride Finnick's hips, after the way he'd made me feel in that tunnel. Now his discomfort actually bothered me. 

Unhooking my jaw so I could fully cover the bite, I sink my teeth into the punctures trying to ignore the way everyone around me jumps and moves closer, fighting the urge to rip me off of Finnick. I suck hard and can taste when it starts to fill my mouth along with some of Finnick's blood. I suck until my cheeks are full up. My eyes find one of the empty cans by Peeta's knee and I pick it up, spitting the venom into it before going for the second round. They all gasp as it sizzles inside the can, smelling of rubbing alcohol and acid.

I have to empty my mouth 2 more times before I can taste that his blood is clean again. Finnick has been whimpering in pain and trying to wiggle from beneath me in his sleep, so I wrap my arms around him and grab his shoulders to keep myself anchored. I make sure I fill my mouth with my antivenom before I sink my teeth into his shoulder again. I push what's in my mouth onto the surface and with my teeth I push some straight to his bloodstream. There's an unfamiliar pulsing in my canines but it's not painful. I'm not sure how I know, I just do, that he's clean.

Once satisfied with my work, I let go of his shoulders with a huff of exhaustion, sitting back fully on his lap trying to focus my vision. Peeta looks as if he's swallowed everything that I just sucked out of Finnick. His brows are drawn tight, his plump bottom lip jutted out in distaste as he clenches his jaw.

Ok, I didn't know just how much that would take out of me. I'm not done yet though. The bite is now just an angry red. I know off some strange instinct to lick the wound to speed up the healing process. When I'm done, I gesture to Pollux that he can lay Finnick back down but I don't get off of him immediately. Peeta has been visibly uncomfortable the entire time and it was about to get weirder.

"Katniss, you're next" I huff wiping the sweat from my forehead, one trembling hand now resting on Finnick's chest to keep me upright.

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine. You've done enough" she shakes her head pulling her left forearm into her chest

"Don't worry, I don't have to bite you too. I just need to suck the venom out. Unless, you don't want to keep the arm" I explain with a playful chomp of my teeth that make them clack loudly

"Can it wait? You look like you're about to pass out" Cressida sighs putting her hand to my rapidly warming forehead

"It can't. They're imperfects. My venom and anti-venom trumps theirs. I'm the mutt 2.0. The perfect version. Only got the best of the best" I grin showing my bloody teeth again to accentuate my point

"You're not a mutt" Katniss shakes her head sitting beside Peeta and offering out her arm to me" And I trust you. It's like Cress said, it's just that you've done a lot tonight. Your body will give out soon. We're worried"

"Luckily for you, adrenaline and I are besties"

Cressida hands me a water. I use it to rinse my mouth before trying to turn to Katniss, only to find I'm still glued to Finnick's hips. I don't have the energy to get up and help Katniss.

Fuck.

I turn my face to Peeta's and somehow, he understands what I want without a word, eagerly pulling me off of Finnick. I'm now nestled between Peeta's bent knees, my back leaning against his right that's propped up firmly for support, both of his forearms resting on his knees. He's keeping his hands in my line of sight and I feel gratitude sweep through my frame. Was he always this attentive to my needs?

Katniss places her forearm into my reaching hands and I begin the suction method again. It's much faster since their claw venom is pretty low grade. As I lick her arm to slather the wound in my antivenom, I try my best not to think about how fuckin weird this must look. When I'm finished, I slump back against Peeta, working hard to get my vision to stop swimming.

He's so sturdy.

"Not so useless after all I guess" I snort with a weak smile

"I have no idea how we would have saved them if you weren't here" Gale breathes in awe

I was so dizzy. I'd only had to do that one time before and not half as much back then. I really hoped Peeta didn't let me fall onto my face. If I'd never been vulnerable around him before, I certainly had no choice but to be now. My heart was racing and I wasn't sure if I liked his heat warming me from the inside out right now. Honestly, trying to process the fact that I'm still here because he'd refused to let me go was enough to drain me. 

God I was so tired.

"Get some sleep kiddo" Cressida grins at me with a pat to my cheek

"Wait!"

Peeta looks down at me and I'm genuinely surprised his proximity doesn't bother me in the slightest as his jaw brushes my hair.

"Chain me back up first" I huff fighting my drooping lids as I gesture toward the beam at the bottom of the stairs.

"No"

It's only one word but everyone feels the command in it as his body hardens around me. I get that I just helped, but I still felt that programming to sink my teeth into something tickling the back of my consciousness. Yes, his warmth brought me comfort and security. Right now. But that could be just because I'm exhausted. What about when I had energy?

"Peeta please. I still feel that weird mutt animosity from back in the tunnel. I'm tired now but...I don't know about when I wake up" I plead as my voice cracks

Katniss and Cressida exchange a look before making another pallet big enough for the three of us over by the stairs. Peeta waits patiently for them to gesture him over, clearly intending to carry me since I had no strength left in my limbs. I'm practically asleep by that point, but him rising with me still in his arms, reminds me again just how strong he really is behind those deceptive boyish good looks. He lightly eases me down onto the soft furs and brushes my sweaty bang out of my face, leaving a tender kiss to my forehead that should have bothered me, as he just watches me for a moment. I can't help but offer a weak but grateful smile. 

I miss his warmth right away. 

Cressida sighs despondently but does as I ask and loops my restraint around the pole above my head.

"Get some rest. We'll be here"

"And I'll be right over there. Call for me if you need me" Peeta smiles trailing his fingers down my cheek

I nod and fall asleep the moment my eyes close.

I awake with a start 2 hours later, covered in sweat and panting fearfully. It's Katniss' hand I feel running through my hair as she faces me on the pallet, trying to soothe my night terrors. Primrose told me this was a specialty of hers and I instantly understand it. It calms my racing heart relatively quickly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No. I'll talk about anything else though" I sigh pulling myself into a sitting position where Katniss happily undoes the restraints around the beam so I can sit with my hands in my lap.

My stomach grumbles and this is when Cressida sits up, handing me a can of pork cuts she'd apparently saved for me. I happily take it and start to pull the chunks out to scarf the can down. I was ravenous after the healing bites.

"So... since it's just us girls" Cressida starts with an uncharacteristically childlike mischief in her voice

I lower the can and peek over to the boy's pallet in a panic. They're all fast asleep, surrounding Finnick to keep him warm and stable so he doesn't agitate his wounds. When I meet her inquisitive gaze again, I quirk a brow at her, wondering what she'd want to possibly talk about with just the girls.

"I heard a little...rumor about one of your breakfasts"

My eyes dart to Katniss and I put my can down, despite how badly I want to finish it.

"About that. Katniss, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean what I said. I was," I juggle what the right word for it was. Her smoky grey meets my bright silver with interest. No point in lying now. To them or myself "Jealous. It wasn't fair to say those things to you. Especially in front of everyone"

I want to look away but I don't want to seem disingenuous so I hold her steady gaze. At first, she says nothing until she can't help the smirk on her lips as she tries not to flat out laugh. Well damn. Was it that pathetic?

"I get it. I was irritated at the time but I knew not to take it personal" She smiles "Jealous huh? Of what?"

Cressida scooches closer and cups her cheeks while grinning at us. I've never hung out with a group of girls so close to my age. Is...is this what a sleepover was like? Was this girl talk? Might as well enjoy it.

"How close you two were. I mean, I was scared of him but...I wanted him too. Does that make sense?"

"It does to me" she shrugs

"Me too" Cressida agrees opening a can of her own where the smell of peaches irritates me momentarily

"Was what you said about the train true?"

"I thought it was" I shrug picking up another piece of ham then freezing as I realize all of it wasn't a lie. "Well, some of it was"

"This was my question!" Cressida giggles wiggling her hips

"What was?" I ask with a raised brow

"Your guards. Flira is my cousin. She told me some of what you said. Is it true, about Peeta?" her voice lowers a little as she sneaks a peek over her shoulder to make sure the boys are still sleeping

"Is what true?" I chuckle downing the rest of the can and picking up a water as I tried to remember all the things I claimed he said or did.

Not exactly an easy chore since I was still trying to figure out what memories actually belonged to me. 

"Is he really hung?" she whispers

I can't help but choke on my water as I catch her and Katniss both inspecting my face inquisitively. Oh! They're both curious. I sneak another glimpse over at Peeta, grateful he's still asleep, or this would be mortifying. The steady rise and fall of his chest is strangely hypnotic and I watch it for a minute as I consider what to divulge. I tear my eyes away before I'm trapped and look back to the eager girls.

"Before I answer, I'd like to throw in that we've never done...it. I thought so, but that was Mean Peeta"

"What do you mean?"

"I have memories of Peeta and I...you know. But he helped me see a few days ago that it wasn't real. They were Capitol memories. What I do remember...he's sweet. Patient. Gentle. Kind. Affectionate" I explain further. I never really had to explain that there were two Peeta's constantly waging war in my mind this in-depth before. And I definitely wasn't going to talk to that moron shrink doctor in 13 about it. "I'm trying to learn to separate them. So, there's Sweet Peeta and Mean Peeta right now. Sweet Peeta is vocal. Calls me pretty, baby, sweetness. I like it" I’m looking down at my fingers as I explain this, wringing my hands out feeling flustered at the admission and the memories it sparked to talk about it.

Oh God stop talking!

"Mmm. Sounds nice" Cressida hums taking on a thoughtful look

"He's always been a gentle person. I just didn't think he'd be so....whoo" Katniss fans herself playfully while taking a swig of my water

Maybe I wasn't such an abomination to them after all? And honestly, this girl talk stuff was pretty fun.

"So...is it true?"

"Oh, it's true alright" I whisper with a giggle

"Long or thick?" Cressida whispers

"Both" I whisper back with a playful purr

The three of us break out in a fit of giggles and for the first time, since Johanna came running to tell me she was allowed topside for 2 hours a day, I feel good.

"What're you pretty ladies giggling about?" Finnick's groggy voice comes from the other pallet across the cellar

We all visibly jump and turn our heads to see him struggling to sit up. I'm about to head for him, but Peeta is up beside him, helping Finnick slide into a comfortable sitting position. I can see that they'd patched and bandaged up his shoulder while I slept. Peeta didn't look groggy like Finnick did as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Peeta was more or less alert. 

He'd been playing possum.

Shit. How much had he heard?

"Girl talk. None of your business Odair" Cressida teases poking her tongue out at him

"I bet it was about us. You've got the two hottest Victors asleep and at your mercy. I bet you felt me up, didn't you?" He teased with a wink, wincing a little when he tilts his head

"In your wildest dreams maybe" she snorts

"How are you feeling Finnick?" Katniss adds cutting her eyes to me, probably having noticed Peeta's alertness too. She was a natural hunter just like I was, there's no way she didn't notice.

"Like something bit the shit out of me" He laughs

"Yeah, that was me. Sorry about that Finn. Had to get the imperfects venom outta you" I explain feeling genuinely bad I had to hurt him further in order to help him

"Didn't know that, but thanks. Are you ok? Did the venom hurt you?"

Now everyone is looking at me and I realize I never really did explain anything about my enhancements to anyone before. I was still figuring them out myself, so I didn't talk about it much.

"It can't"

"Why not?" Katniss asks with a tilt of the head

"Beetee, Prim and Plutarch have been conducting some tests and they found some answers but not all of them. My file is sealed up tight in the Capitol's networks so I don't know a lot but, I can tell you what I know. Just as he did Tigress, Snow modified my genetic code with some kind of feline DNA. My eyes can see in the dark when I focus enough. They'd ripped my canines out and replaced them with their own, sharper and infused with some kind of reptile's that makes the ducts venomous when I have malicious intent. But, my saliva works as a natural anti-venom.

I noticed when I first got sent to this squad that my venom was purple. That wasn't normal. I was used to it being a dark red. There seems to be different kinds in my ducts that react off of my intent. I'm still puzzling that out though. I'm one of Snow's favorite trophies. His splicing doesn't always produce the best results as you've seen in Tigress. It's why he tortured me but made sure not to destroy the things that he took pride in" I explain no longer looking at them but at my nails.

Nails that used to be so normal but now resembled claws, unable to grow any way but sharp. What was I really? Not a mutt? But still a monster.

"That's what the meat thing is about" Gale hums popping his muscles as he stretches out beside Finnick

"Can't help it. I didn't understand why Snow had them giving me only fruits and vegetables. After my first week I got it. I was in pain all the time because I couldn't give my body the nourishment it needed. They found that shit funny. Watching me cry because of some fuckin carrots!" I snap

"Cruelty is a specialty of Snow's" Finnick snorts as he stands and makes his way over to our pallet

He plops down in front of me, wounded shoulder directly in front of me. Katniss turns too and begins to unwrap her bandaged arm.

"You mind checking it for me?"

"You promise to put a shirt on if I do?" I tease

"If the exam satisfies me" he shrugs

Cressida gingerly unwraps the bandage and I shift up onto my knees to inspect it. I'm struck with a wave of dizziness that rattles my equilibrium so much so, that I'm pitched forward, unable to control any of my limbs. Finnick's left arm comes around my waist and catches me before my head can hit his knee, landing against his damp chest instead. Damn, maybe I really did overdo it? I feel warm hands on my shoulders, knowing who it is without having to look, as they tug me back quickly.

"Maybe you should rest a little more" Peeta whispers in my ear

"I-I'm ok just doing this. I'll sleep right after. I swear" I explain shaking my head to try and clear the haze

"Ok" he acquiesces, his hands still on my shoulders

He'd been silent this entire time. My head on Finnick's bare chest must have been his breaking point. He eases down behind me, his arms on either side of me, hands about to rest on my thighs before he realizes what he's doing and drops them to the fur pelts. I shake my head and pull them back up, placing his heated palms atop my thighs so he's practically snuggling me from behind. I should be ready to fight but that kiss in the tunnel awoke something in me I couldn't smother back to sleep. I still felt an irrational anxiety around him but it was much easier to ignore now.

"Just don't let me go, in case I fall again" I mumble hoping that this eases some of his concerns

I just admitted seeing him with Katniss made me jealous, I can understand the feeling on his end now. Straddling Finnick and now my head on his sweaty chest? If he felt the way people told me he did about me, this had to be driving him insane.

"I've got you" he nods against my temple

I lean forward a little, his warm hands steadying me as my torso attempts to rock side to side, and place my hands on Finn's upper right arm. He lowers his shoulder since he's taller than me and when I take my perusal of it, I'm glad to see my saliva did the trick for the skin. The circle of punctures from the rows of sharp teeth were all healing and had a flesh layer of skin scabbed over them. Katniss' arm is the same. Her wounds look days old. Good. They wouldn't scar too badly.

I roll my tongue over both healing wounds and listen for the soft sizzle before it sinks into their skin. They both shiver for a second and I smirk happily. It worked! There's a euphoria that ensues from my antivenom, when I engage it, that tingles the muscles from head to toe to help ease the pain. When everyone peers down at their skin, the flesh is now a soft pink.

"Holy shit" Gale breaths

"I told you...Mutt 2.0" I chuckle heartily then instantly regret it when I'm hit with another wave of dizziness.

A choked sound leaves my throat as I fully crumple into Peeta, vision going dark as I clutch the front of his vest for dear life while I'm pulled under in terror.

#Peeta #Peeta Mellark #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader #peeta smut #i love peeta #Team Peeta #thg fanfiction #THG Peeta #thg fic #thg x reader #survivors remorse #survivor's remorse #part eight #hunger games fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer

[thedecayingapplefiles]

Part Eight

Great. Now there was an infected pony on the loose. Probably in the building.

Searching with Pinkie Pie rose... suspicion. The pink party pony was unusually quiet and irritable, and she kept rubbing at a specific part of one of her upper front legs.

"Hey, Pinkie?" Twilight asked cautiously.

"What?" The pink pony shot her a glare. Her eyes looked a bit bloodshot. Twilight could swear her colors weren't as vibrant as before...

"Can I take a look at that cut on your leg..?"

Pinkie froze, looking down. "Huh. I really *did* get scratched by something! I thought I was just imagining it." She shrugged.

Twilight was torn. Keeping Scootaloo in containment didn't work, she convinced Rainbow Dash to let her out and now she was loose somewhere. Maybe her safest bet was to kick out Pinkie.

"Hey, uh... You think you can run a little errand to Sugarcube Corner? I'm DYING for a cupcake..." Twilight forced a grin.

But Pinkie bought the lie. "Of course I can! Oh, I'll bring as many as I can! I'm sure Rainbow and Rarity and Fluttershy and Sweetie are in a cupcake mood too!" The pink pony hummed, bouncing off.

Twilight sighed. At least a possible future threat was gone for now... They just had to find Scootaloo now.

#mlp #mlp infection au #mlp virus #story #the decaying apple files #mlp fim #tw body horror #tw blood #part eight

[tv-moments]

Ahsoka

Season 1, “Part Eight: The Jedi, the Witch and the Warlord”

Director: Rick Famuyiwa

DoP: Quyen Tran

#Ahsoka #The Jedi #Season Finale #Ahsoka S01E08 #Part Eight #Season 1 #Rick Famuyiwa #Quyen Tran #Rosario Dawson #Ahsoka Tano #Natasha Liu Bordizzo #Sabine Wren #Eman Esfandi #Ezra Bridger #Dave Filoni #Disney+ #Lucasfilm #Golem Creations #TV Moments #TV Series #TV Show #television #TV #TV Frames #cinematography #October 3 #2023

[lambtotheslaughterr]

The Agenda Today

A Lloyd Hansen Mini Series

PART EIGHT

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART SEVEN | MASTERLIST | FINALE

7:14 AM

The quarter mile walk underground led by Doherty did nothing to settle your nerves. The first & last time you had been down here Lloyd had violently assaulted you, a means to punish Raj for his problematic behaviour. You still had no idea what Raj was being forced into doing, never entirely knowing what exactly he did for a living, but you feared what he could’ve done to piss of Lloyd enough to involve Gracie. Pressing your chapped lips together, you paused outside the same room with monitors that Lloyd had brought you to before.

Unlike last time however, there were far fewer people inside. Doherty pushed you gently forward into the room. You swallowed nervously, your eyes bouncing around in hopes of finding Gracie—unharmed. A quick perusal of the room gave no sign of Gracie, the nauseous feeling in your stomach remained. Where was she?

Much to your fear, Doherty led you to the same room that Lloyd held you in previously. You had less than two seconds to mentally, & emotionally, prepare yourself for what may be inside. Gracie, more so, Gracie hurt.

The inside of the room was empty. The chair that had been placed in the middle the first time was gone though, replaced by something you perceived as far worse. It was a table. With leather straps. You weren’t an idiot. You knew exactly where this was going.

“No.” You spoke silently to yourself, immediately halting in your footsteps. Doherty pushed you forward yet again. “Where’s Gracie?”

You could feel yourself beginning to panic. “Please.” You pleaded to Doherty but he only looked at you blankly. A puppet to a master.

“Get on the table, _____.”

“No!” You cried, attempting to push pass him but it was futile. Doherty easily overpowered you, wrapping his slender arms around your body & lifting you until you felt the cool metal of the table through your thin dress.

“Please! Not again, no!”

Your slapping, punching, biting, spitting did nothing. Doherty was unperturbed by your efforts. You had been so focused on using your upper body to try & fight him off that you forgot to use your legs, your best asset as a woman against a man. But it was too late. Doherty managed to strap an ankle down, the skin of the leather biting into your Achilles heel.

Doherty shoved you forwards until you were lying flat on your stomach, wrestling with your right arm to strap it down. Tears escaped, your muscles burned from fighting, your heart was beating against your ribcage. It was too much. You almost wished that you would pass out from the adrenaline. But it never came.

He finished strapping you in & you pulled on the straps. There was no give. You angled your head around to find Doherty as he left the room. The door clicked shut & you were left alone, only your soft cries filling the silent underground torture chamber.

Panic continued to ravish you. You were forced to rest your forehead against the table, focusing on controlling your breathing. You had to remind yourself that you were no good to Gracie dead. I’m also no good to her beaten to a pulp, you battled with yourself. But what could you do? There was nothing you could do.

Time passed & you found yourself breathing gently. The tears had stopped but your cheeks were, crusted from your crying. How long would you be here for? Was this the extent of it? But even you knew the answer the latter question.

More was coming.

Through the wall you could hear the faint sound of thundering footsteps. You broke out in a cold sweat. It was coming, he was coming.

Muffled voices sounded just outside the door, & you knew it was Lloyd speaking with Doherty. You bit your lip in fear, bracing for the worst that had yet to come.

Your heart stopped with the sound of the door opening. It was behind you. You struggled lifting your arm to glance under, to see Lloyd as he walked in. You could tell immediately that he was far from happy. But what scared you the most is what he carried. Hanging from his shoulder was a large black square bag, heavy duty, military grade you imagined.

Lloyd didn’t glance your direction once as he strolled by you. Your eyes fearfully followed his movements. Just ahead of you was a smaller table, no bigger than a nightstand, that you hadn’t noted before when Doherty brought you in. Lloyd placed the bag on the table before he began to pull out items from it. Unfortunately, his wide frame kept you from being able to see exactly what he was producing, but you knew it couldn’t be anything good.

But what you did manage to see left you feeling empty. Lloyd whipped out a stand, extending it until it was just below his chin. A tripod.

Fresh tears coated your vision. He was going to make a show of your torture.

Sure enough, he then pulled out a camera—a large one, like the ones you’d see behind the scenes of a television news report.

Lloyd began to whistle then, a tune you didn’t recognize. It only scared you more. He was going to enjoy this.

“Don’t think I enjoy this, _____.” Lloyd finally spoke, as if he had been reading your mind. His back was still turned to you but he continued, “What I really enjoy is people doing what they’re told, following the rules, not making things difficult.”

You said nothing. You knew was lying. Even if he was angry right now, you knew he was very much looking forward to causing you pain.

“But I was hired to do this job for a reason as well.” He placed the camera on the tripod, securing it, “And that is to remind the little people who is in charge.”

Once the camera was secured he returned to the bag. You watched with bated breath as he grabbed something then finally turned to face you, “To remind them what they stand to lose.”

Your eyes fell to what he held in his hands. His mustache rose slightly with the smug one-sided smirk he produced. A glistening pair of shears. You glanced warily from the sparkle in his eyes to the sparkle of the shears catching the artificial light.

“Where’s Gracie?”

Lloyd sighed, dropping his head. “Ya know,” he clicked his tongue, “you really should begin to worry about yourself, nanny. It’s always ‘where’s Gracie’, ‘don’t hurt Gracie’, ‘let me see Gracie’.”

He stepped forward until his crotch was aligned with your face, then he crouched resting his forearms on the edge of the table to peer at you with fake pity, “Do you value your well-being that little?”

“Just tell me she’s okay.”

Lloyd ignored your plea, instead tracing the pointed edge of the shears along your arm. It never pierced your skin but the sensation still caused you to wince. He hummed to himself contemplatively, watching with amused eyes as the shears dragged along your skin. You pressed your lips together, willing yourself to not cry as the shears grew closer & closer to your neck. A quick pinch. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound. Lloyd’s eyes glowed as he watching a small trail of blood flow from the apex of where your neck & shoulder met. Then he met your eyes.

“If I were you, nanny, I’d start worrying about yourself real soon.”

The blinking light on the camera mocked you as Lloyd circled the table, the shears never leaving your skin. He traced every inch of your body, making nicks here & there. But you never made a sound. When he rounded back to the front where you could see him, you refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing you plead. There was nothing you could say or do that would change your current position. You were undeniably at this madman’s mercy.

You couldn’t help that your body was shaking, despite the leather straps holding you in place. Lloyd hummed quietly to himself as he observed your form. Spit slipped from between your tightly pressed lips, tears threatened to fall. The cold sweat had quickly transitioned into a hot one.

Lloyd remained standing before you but you still refused to look at him, especially because what you would be faced with is his clothed crotch. You knew he was getting off on this. The power. The least you could do is not let him see your face as he did what he was going to do.

The shears returned to cut on your shoulder. It stung but you refrained from making any noise of discomfort.

There was a gentle tug against your shoulder then a release. The strap of your dress had been cut. Then the other.

A shudder wracked your body.

No.

Lloyd centered the shears at the back of your dress, running the blades down to your waist. The freshly exposed skin of your back erupted with goosebumps.

“Lloyd.” You whispered, shaking your head, “Don’t. Please.”

But he said nothing as he left your line of sight. He continued to cut the dress down the center until it reached the very end. Your skin crawled at being nearly entirely naked in front of him. Again. All that you had left was your underwear.

Swiftly, Lloyd tugged the remnants of your dress out from under you, tossing the fabric to the side.

A gasp left your lips, panic once again consuming your body & mind.

“No!” You screamed, trying to loosen the straps around your limbs. Lloyd laughed jovially from behind you. You thrashed wildly. The straps never gave.

A warm yet hard pressure pressed itself over your shoulders until you felt hot air in your ear, “You’re not going anywhere, nanny, not till I’m finished with you.”

You bared your teeth, wanting to bite back but there would be no point. Nothing would come of it except more pain & the pain had yet to truly begin.

Lloyd returned to the table with his bag on it, reaching inside & pulling out another item. You watched with horror as he held what looked to be a wooden rod, only it had two metal prongs at the end of it & a strap for handling on the other. Lloyd whistled impressively to himself as he weighed the item in his hand, using the strap to swing it around & pat it against the open palm of his other hand.

His eyes met yours, the twinkle in them still shining bright, “You know what this is?”

No but you had an idea…

He approached you, placing the end of the rod with prongs on it against your skin, retracing his earlier touch with the shears, “This is what they call a picana. Before stun guns, these were used to keep cattle in check.”

The rod continued along the top of your spine, leaving tingles in its wake.

“A picana isn’t a popular choice when it comes to the art of torture. There are, after all, much more successful & creative tools. But me,” Lloyd sighed happily to himself. You could feel the prongs fall to between your thighs, making you shake more so, “I’ve always been intrigued by the unconventional.”

You sensed him behind you now, at the other end of the table. You held your breath waiting for it to start. But nothing came. You could barely even make out the sound of Lloyd’s breathing. The waiting was driving you mad. The room was incredibly still & quiet, except for the sound of your blood rushing to your ears. The tears had begun to fall at this point. You pressed your forehead into the table, gritting your teeth. Any moment, any moment, any moment…

A mixture of a scream & a gasp left you. A stinging shock climbed the nerves throughout your body, stealing your breath away. Your body trembled, the aftershocks of the picana rendering your body not yours. Lloyd produced another.

Tears couldn’t even burst from your eyes. You felt your muscles tense, your joints lock. The shocks were quick but their effect long. Finally, you stopped trembling, your body collapsing into the table. You could’ve passed out, it took that much energy from you.

“That was just the soles of your feet.” Lloyd’s voice sounded far.

There was no preparing yourself for the shocks. The prongs grazed the base of your spine.

Another. This one much, much worse.

A strained scream caught in your throat. Your body locking up entirely. You couldn’t see. It felt like you were beginning to choke on your tongue.

As soon as you could breathe again, you cried, screamed, begged.

“Please, Lloyd, no, no, no!” This wasn’t your fault, you knew that. It wasn’t even Raj’s fault, but whatever he had gotten himself into put you there. Right fucking there, at the hands of a violent sadist.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Lloyd cooed, the prongs of the rod reaching the base of your skull. You shuddered, practically banging your forehead into the table, not knowing the extent of damage the shocks could do from that source. But you considered it leading to death.

Would this be how you died? On a table, nude, underground in a jungle in India, a cruel madman tweaking the ends of his mustache as he watched you choke on your vomit? Is this really how you would die?

Lloyd watched in awe as he saw your body jerk & shake. His eyes were alight with fire. This is why he was hired. To cause irrevocable pain.

He had only shocked you three times, but already you were barely conscious. Your eyes were closed, your lips parted in desperation as your lungs clung to air. He didn’t want to stop. His directions were to push you to the brink of death. But to not kill you.

Raj had fucked up yet again. He was making things a lot more difficult then they needed to be. A beating would do nothing. Lloyd argued in using the little girl. Her pain would make him listen, force him to get the job done. But the men above Lloyd would not accept any harm coming to her. That’s what the nanny was for. Of course, if you were not Raj’s bedroom buddy, you wouldn’t even be alive. Fortunately for Lloyd’s team & the people he was hired by, Raj had a soft spot for you. Only your pain could be used in this operation.

You had completely passed out at this point. Lloyd’s eyes trailed the length of you. The soles of your feet & the curve on your lower back were red from the assault on them. Your skin glistened with a light coat of sweat. Your fingers twitched every few seconds.

Lloyd knew what he would have to do, knew he had many different options to hurt you with. But something was stopping him. It wasn’t that he liked you, he never liked anyone. He knew you likely wouldn’t make it out of this alive. Once Raj had completed what he had been taken for, the little brat & you would die. It was a guarantee.

But what Lloyd didn’t like was having death taken from him. Sure, torture was his talent. It’s where he thrived. But if he was told to push to the brink of death, it was almost impossible to stop. Death would eventually be the outcome. Why wait?

So, against the directions he had been given, Lloyd would make you suffer in other ways. You’d still be in unimaginable pain. You’d still fight him, hate him, dream about killing him. What would happen to you next would still force Raj to stop resisting orders. But Lloyd knew he had to make it bad, make it terrible, make it so he wouldn’t have to bring you down here again until it was time to take your life.

Lloyd returned to the table that held his bag. He stuck the rod inside it. There was only one method he was thinking of. He turned to face your unconscious body, watching the rise & fall of your back. Spit was coming from your mouth. It was… inspiring.

He only had one tool left to use.

A foreign pressure below your waist woke you, forcing a groan from you.

You had been dreaming.

You & Gracie were in the house, sitting at the table while Wanda made food. Shehu patrolled outside the windows. Raj was talking somewhere out of sight, on the phone. Gracie colored next to you, her hands moving rapidly as she did. You tried to peek over her shoulder to see what she was drawing but her long dark hair covered what you couldn’t see.

Wanda was at the stove, facing you in your peripheral. But you couldn’t turn your head to face her. You could feel her eyes on you though. You tried to say her name but nothing came out. You began to panic. Unable to move, unable to speak. In the corner of your eye, you saw a sudden glow come from Wanda. Then erratic movement. Tears sprang forth. It looked almost as if she was on fire. There was no screaming through, just the sound of Gracie’s scribbling as drew quickly, concerningly so.

You went to stand but your legs didn’t move. Your arms the same. Stuck facing Gracie, you could look down enough to see that your arms were strapped to the chair. You shifted roughly. Nothing gave.

Gracie kept drawing. Wanda kept burning. Shehu was nowhere to be seen outside the windows. Raj couldn’t be heard anymore.

The scribbling grew louder & louder until it was screeching against the hardwood of the table. Blood began to pour from Gracie’s hands until the entire table was coated in it.

You were crying, screaming but no sound ever came. The screeching grew louder & louder until Gracie began to cry & cry & cry

And then a loud explosion sounded & everything turned white.

A sharp pain erupted through you & your head was forced upwards.

A heavy weight pressed against your back, crushing your ribs & lungs. You took in the room bleary eyed, horrified to wake to another nightmare.

The weight shifted & you cried.

“Fuck.” A pant sounded in your ear. Lloyd.

Another shift & your fingers curled, digging into the edge of the table, desperate for release.

Tears sprang forth at what was occurring.

Unlike the first time Lloyd had raped you, where you felt full. Now he was raping you, sodomizing you, & it made you feel completely hollowed out.

Empty cries left you as he pushed further in. It was a pain you never knew possible. A warm sensation dripped from where he penetrated you, & you knew it was blood.

Lloyd’s hand fisted your hair, forcing your neck up so he could bite down on your skin, his teeth sinking into the cut he had made at your apex earlier.

“I see Raj has never been here,” he thrusted once more, “before.”

Much like your dream, you couldn’t scream, couldn’t move. Only lie there & watch as your world came tumbling down.

Lloyd groaned in your ear, a smile in his breathy pants.

Your vision blurred at the intrusion, your muscles tightening around his girthy length. The blood acted as a lubricant as Lloyd fucked your ass with languid movement. The tension on your scalp from his grip never lessened as he used the length of her hair as a mean to hold onto you.

“Oh, c’mon, nanny. I thought you liked this kind of play.”

You said nothing, could say nothing. You were trapped in an endless loop of his cock stroking the walls of your hole, sinking deeper & deeper. Every thrust forcing you to deal with the nightmarish reality you were in. You were sure he was going to rip you entirely in two.

Lloyd must’ve grown annoyed at your lack of responding. So, he took to taking you harder. Slamming your head into the table, something you were momentarily thankful for as it took from the pain burning between your cheeks, he placed both hands on your hips, his nails digging into the skin there, as he began to pound you mercilessly.

You could feel the blood pooling below your hips, could hear it squelching as Lloyd fucked you raw, could even smell the metallic scent as it seeped into your sense, making you dizzy & nauseous.

There was nothing more that you wished then to pass out. Or, to even die.

Lloyd was right. You hadn’t cared about your well-being.

This wasn’t Gracie’s fault, you would never think that. But this is the role you signed up for. To protect her at all costs. You would never wish this on anyone, not even your worse enemy. But you were depleted entirely of energy & fight. You couldn’t anymore. You wanted to simply fall asleep & never wake up.

Lloyd’s movements began to speed up, finally forcing you to react. You cried out, never letting go of the table as he jackhammered into you. The burn was excruciating, absolutely nothing pleasurable about it. The first time Lloyd raped you was a walk in the park compared to his assault the second time around.

His hips began to jerk & you knew what would be coming next. You braced yourself to have enough strength for the final stretch. His hips slapped against the skin of your ass as he pushed himself as deep as he could possibly reach.

Another hand fisted in your hair & you blindly reached back, feeling the roots of your hair tug & snap.

“Fuckin’ good little nanny.” Lloyd panted as he thrusted into you once more with finality. A deep, almost painful sounding groan, bursting from his chest.

Your asshole throbbed, feeling Lloyd’s cock pulse within you as he spilled himself.

The hand in your hair released you, letting your head thump soundly against the metal table. Above you, Lloyd rested his chest along the length of your back, his hands mirroring yours as they hung limply on the sides.

You both were breathing heavily, him more so then you.

You swallowed, trying to damped your mouth, finding it to be dry, but you could produce no saliva. Lloyd rested his forehead near yours, shaking his head.

You didn’t know why he was shaking his & you didn’t care. You just wanted to be left alone.

“You’ll have to give Raj a piece of that when you make it back.”

If you make it back, you thought to yourself. What life was there for you after this? If you did make it out, & you highly doubted you would, the first thing you’d do when returning to Albania is walk towards the ocean. Just keep walking until the ground disappeared beneath you & the waves carried you into the deep.

Tears sprang forth as Lloyd shifted, pulling himself out. Once he finally did, you finally felt your body relax. The pain was still there, throbbing & unforgettable. But for now, in that moment, you allowed yourself to let go. Hoping, praying for a sleep you never woke from.

But the sound of Lloyd getting dressed, his belt clinking, forced your eyes to stay open. He may have more in store for you.

It wasn’t the torture you were expecting from him. There could be more.

But for the first time in a long time, relief flooded you when you saw in the corner of your eye as Lloyd approached the camera, turning it off.

You allowed your eyes to close, licking your lips with a parched tongue.

The biting tightness around your wrists & ankles began to disappear one by one. You needn’t open your eyes to know Lloyd was removing your restraints. He knew you weren’t a threat if you ever were one. He had done irreparable damage. You were done fighting…

A finger grazed your forehead, & you blearily opened your eyes. You couldn’t look him in the eye, so you settled on simply staring at the ugly patterns of his shirt.

“You did so well, _____.” He sounded almost proud, “Took it like a champ.”

Then he crouched & you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look him in the eye, “Bet you’re starting to wish you had protected yourself more now, aren’t you?”

Yes. No. You never regretted protected Gracie, it was your job. But Lloyd was right. Your well-being mattered too.

He sighed before standing. You kept your eyes closed, listening as he gathered up the items & returned them to the bag, followed by a zip. In your minds eye, you saw him stop near you again. A hand coasted over the skin of your ass. You bit your lip, anticipating a smack to the already used & abused area. But nothing came.

“Doherty will get you cleaned up. Tomorrow you go back to a regular schedule with the brat.”

You said nothing. You just wanted to sleep.

“What?” Lloyd questioned, “No more questions about Gracie?”

Tears slipped between your lids, a shudder passing through your body.

“Awh.” He faked sympathy, “Poor, little Gracie. Her nanny won’t be protecting her anymore, will she?”

He chuckled lowly to himself, his voice closer to you when he spoke next, “Should you tell her, or should I?”

When you said nothing, you could hear the smile in his voice, “I finally broke you, nanny.”

He was right. You were broken.

SOMETIME AFTER

The walk back to your hut had been much longer than the walk to the bunker. Every step you took sent a shock of pain up your spine. You paused many times to catch your breath, to feel between your legs for any more blood.

If you had any more fight in you, you would’ve been humiliated when Doherty came in to get you cleaned up & dressed. But you couldn’t feel anything.

Doherty brought you loose-fitting cotton pants & a white cropped tank top. There was no underwear.

 At one point in your walk to the hut, you were mildly surprised when Doherty reached out to catch you as you stumbled, the pain in your backside making a normal task beyond difficult. But you had shot him a mirthful glare.

Do not touch me.

He remained expressionless, as always.

You wished relief had flooded you upon sight of the hut, but nothing like it came. All you wanted was to sleep. Sleep for as long as you could.

A strained wince escaped you as you climbed the few steps up to the door. You let yourself in, not bothering to lock the door behind you, shuffling towards the single bed in the corner.

A patter of feet sounded from the back of the hut. Gracie appeared, racing around the corner until she saw you.

She was okay. She looked completely unharmed. Her bright smile that you loved so much breached her lips. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around your hips, pressing your face into your belly, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You didn’t hug her back. Couldn’t.

You glanced down at your, taking in the top of her head. She held on to you tightly. The arms around your hips squeezed, forcing a sharp sting to shoot up your spine. You hissed.

Gently placing your hands on her arms, you unlatched her hold on you. Gracie looked up at you with confusion in her eyes. You inhaled sharply, “I’m tired, Gracie.”

Letting her go, you shuffled past her, the bed the only object you wanted to cling yourself to.

“_____?” Gracie said behind you, “are you okay?”

Your knees met the soft, plushiness of the mattress & you fell forward. A small gasp left your lips as you adjusted comfortable on the bed, sure to put no pressure on your backside.

Gracie’s small steps approached you. With the last bit of strength you had, you held out your hand, palm up.

“Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse, “Go read, Gracie.”

A sniffle sounded from where she stood & you knew she must’ve been crying. You couldn’t comfort her. You couldn’t.

After a few seconds of silence, Gracie finally walked away, returning to the back of the hut.

You sighed deeply, curling your legs into your chest until you felt only warmth.

Then you closed your eyes, letting sleep find you, & hoping it never let you go.

It has been quite a bit of time since I've updated on here. I would like to blame life but that simply isn't true.

As both a reader of other writers on here & now a writer on here myself, I have a big pet peeve when it comes to leaving any work unfnished. I lost inspiration for The Agenda Today & couldn't update When The Bough Breaks or anything until I updated The Agenda Today. My mind & body won't let me go out of order. I have to complete every single thing I start on here.

So, I apologize for the very late update.

This is a very dark chapter so I hope I've made up for my creative hiatus.

WTBB is next, which I have plenty of inspiration for!

As always, please share your thoughts with me. Likes are of course appreciated but asks, reblogs with your thoughts, & leaving comments are much preferred. Your genuine interaction with my work really motivates me.

Thank you for reading

beau<3

Requests are currently CLOSED.

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @buckysteveloki-me @emoalien69

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#dark!lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #dark!thegrayman #the gray man fanfiction #the gray man #dark!lloyd #dark!fic #non con fic #the agenda today #part eight

[kingdomhate]

First Glance (Part Eight)

Nothing so far had been easy for you, training to take the trials, dealing with the many eyes that starred you down whenever you entered a room, the stress what becoming too much. You had to work to earn back the trust you apparently so viciously ripped away from the entire Jedi Order.

And what did that mean? Stop socializing with Anakin. As Windu put it, Anakin is "In need of his Jedi trainings", whatever that meant. So as difficult as the challenge lay ahead, you had to continue being loyal and trustworthy to the Order, Republic and yourself, to become a successful Jedi. Easier said than done. But, Anakin? He was, in simple terms devastated by not being able to speak or see you anymore. On the rare occasions he did, there was always someone there to stop him from acting out and charging at you to pull you into a well-deserved hug.

That said, you could imagine the look on Anakin's face as he realized you were in this meeting with him. He could sneak glances and possibly even think about you in a way that did not seem too painful. "Anakin, this meeting is to discuss how we will be reacting to the movement in which the Separatists have made, as well as Senator Amidala's move to assist us." Obi-Wan informs his eager padawan, Anakin nods at his words, knowing he will be gazing at you the entire time as if you were hypnotic. "I understand, Master." Anakin reassures his Master emptily. Obi-Wan nods and leads the pair inside. In the Temple, there are multiple standard Council chairs and a table in the center of the room, on which is displaying the map of the Galactic Republic.

"Ah, Master Kenobi and young Skywalker. If you'd take a seat." Advises Ki-Adi-Mundi. Nodding, Obi-Wan and Anakin take seats directly beside one another. A moment later, you and your Master, Windu arrive, Yoda glances at you before glaring at Anakin, as if warning the two of you to be on your best behavior. As everyone is seated, Plo Koon wastes no time starting the meeting. "What shall we make of this move by the newly formed Separatist Droid Army?" "Well, our best course of action is to endorse and welcome Senator Amidala's attempts at help, correct?" Chimes in Kit Fisto. "No. We are Jedi, the keepers of peace in the galaxy, we should be able to round up armies that have fought with us before and stand our ground as the protectors of the galaxy." Replies Ki-Adi-Mundi firmly.

As this is said, the rest of the Council decide to interject to share their own opinions, of course this is a lengthy process in itself that requires heavy listening. You, sitting up and actively listening to what is being said and taking it into consideration in your own head decide to speak up. "Isn't it possible that we can use the clones Master Kenobi came across on Kamino?" All of the Masters paused and began murmuring amongst their neighbors what they think. Sitting back in your chair, you wait for them to arrive at a clear conclusion, and scanning the room for agreeance, your eyes meet Anakin's. He was gazing at you the entire time. Anakin's blue eyes, as ocean like as ever act as a mirror in which you could always see what he thought of you while looking at yourself, most oftenly you find yourself slipping into the vast sea of the crystal blue eyes that are Anakin's. He flashes you a toothy and gleeful smile, and as quick as the moment was in reality, was how quick you looked away.

You loathed the fact you couldn't speak, look or be alone with him, but you loathed how you were throwing away those many years of discipline for a simple fellow padawan. Sure you guys are friends, close ones at that, but what has been constantly drilled into your head since you started as a padawan at age eight? Never form attachments. And here you are, going off to different planets with this boy, this padawan, what does that say about you? That either you were forgetting everything at the blink of an eye because of someone who showed you attention or that you weren't listening to anything that has been taught to you.

Seeing you dart your gaze away from him, it hurt Anakin but also made him feel like an idiot. Ever since just a few weeks ago when you both came back from your adventures in Tatooine, Anakin has thought of you constantly, day and night. The feeling of slowly and surely but oh so madly attaching to you, it made him feel exhilarated because now he had something worth fighting for, something without a price tag. To him, you were worth more than any gemstone or precious metal, you had never ending beauty and never ending value to him. Never has he ever felt so good in his life. But being away from you, it felt like constant torture and agony, as if someone were endlessly stabbing or burning him. A feeling he never wanted to feel.

The meeting ended in your favor, as the Council had agreed to use the clone army on Kamino as their own against the Separatists. Walking out with your master, you caught a glimpse of Obi-Wan and Anakin talking, from the looks of it, Obi-Wan was speaking in a serious manner, probably scolding Anakin because of his (obvious) staring at you the entire meeting.

That same night, you found yourself restless but, tired because of the sheer amount of the ridiculous amounts of training in which you had to undergo, but restless because Anakin kept invading your mind as if he owned it. With a heavy groan, you flip onto your side in your bed, eyes darting around the room in an attempt to make them droopy and even more exhausted and you find yourself focusing on the figure of Anakin in your window, half illuminated in the twilight and dark. "Y\N..."

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Tags:

@sweetcheesecakesblog

@haydenpookiebear

(Lmk if you wanna be taken off or added to my taglist!)

Note: This was supposed to come out yesterday, but I was too busy with my studies, sorry. Part nine out sometime tomorrow.

#star wars #fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #first glance #series #part eight #part nine out tomorrow!

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Another repost with a new header from @sowrongitslottie!

This is for the eighth installment of the A Herrmann/Halstead Production series: A Fun Fair, an Alleged Flirtation, and a New Living Arrangement

Bex and her friends get roped into helping at the First Responders Family Fun Day. Also, she finds out everyone is moving out and she has no idea what she's going to do for her living arrangements. Luckily, one of her brothers has a solution.

Characters: Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann (OC character), Jay Halstead, Will Halstead, Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz, and various OneChicago characters

Read on Tumblr or on ao3!

#a herrmann/halstead production #Part Eight #A Fun Fair An Alleged Flirtation And A New Living Arrangement #art by sowrongitslottie #sowrongitslottie #@sowrongitslottie #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago med #rebecca 'bex' herrmann #jay halstead #oc character #fluff #halstead sister #herrmann sister #greg “mouse” gerwitz #greg gerwitz #will halstead

[splattered-ink]

My Uranus

He used to be the Sun's favorite, spinning sideways and backwards

All for her amusement.

For this, the sun kept him close.

And then came the others.

The Sun pushed Uranus away from her, making space for her new toys.

He is different.

He doesn't spin like the others, he orbits her strangely.

What once brought the Sun great joy, now only served as an annoyance.

#my solar system #my Uranus #Uranus #Uranus poem #planet poem #planet poetry #part eight #space poem #outer space #space #star #star poem #astronomy poem #poetry #writing #lit #writeblr #literature #words #writing blog #poetry blog #creative writing #fragments #virgils words #virgil writes

[spockvarietyhour]

Ncuti Gatwa

#Masters of the Air #Ncuti Gatwa #Part Eight #I thought that was him. look at him preening. prime doctor material #Idk if he shows up beyond this. blink and you'll miss him. he's had one line so far #Danny watches Masters of the Air

[queenie-blackthorn]

What if Annabeth died in the Giant War? (8/8)

Pov: Nico di Angelo, son of Hades

Percy's eyes widened. He grabbed me by the collar aggressively, lifting me to his height. I let out a gasp, struggling to breathe. He didn't seem to care. "Where is she?"

I bit my lower lip nervously. "Percy... she's in the human world."

It looked like a weight had been lifted off Percy's chest. He smiled a genuine grin that spread from ear to ear and shattered my heart. "That's great," he said. "That means she's already gone back, hasn't she? She can come back to me. My Annabeth can come back to me."

He loosened his grip on me and I dropped. I backed away a little bit to guarantee my safety.

"Yes, she's gone back, but Percy... she did the same thing as Bianca."

His smile wavered. "What do you mean?"

"She chose rebirth." Silena realized. "She's untraceable now. We can't reach her no matter what. She drank from the river Lethe."

Percy crumpled. He didn't pass out, but he dropped to his knees, hands on his face as he shivered. It took me a moment to realize he was crying, and that he had finally realized that Annabeth was gone forever, that she didn't want to return as Annabeth, didn't even remember him anymore.

I went down on my knees too, and I placed my hand on his shoulder, as gently as if he was going to break at any moment. But he wasn't going to; he already had. "Percy... I know what you're going through. Bianca was my everything. But you have to come to terms with her death." I was dimly aware of Zoë, Silena, and Beckendorf leaving as quietly as possible, to leave Percy mourning.

"No," he said quietly. "No, Nico. I've lost people before. So many people..." He looked up at the backs of Zoë, Silena, and Beckendorf. "Those guys." He turned to me. "Your sister. Luke. Leo-" his voice cracked. "But I was able to get through because Annabeth was there. Mom was there. But now that... that Annabeth is gone..."

He took Riptide out of his pocket and took off the cap. he stared at his distorted reflection in the blade. Tears pattered onto it, making a soft dripping sound.

"I can't live. I can't live without my Annabeth."

Before I could process what he was saying, Percy slashed Riptide—the sword that had been his for nearly four years now, the perfect fit for the son of Poseidon, the one that once belonged to Zoë—against his neck.

I stood there stiffly. I heard a loud howl of grief before realizing it was my own. I grabbed at Percy, eyes stinging, and used the last of my strength to shadowtravel.

I found myself in Camp Half-Blood again, right in front of the Athena Parthenos. The spheres holding the Olympians floated above me in a circle.

"Will!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Will! WILL!"

I looked down at Percy, my chest heaving. His eyes were already blank like he was already dead, but I knew he wasn't. His chest was rising ever so slightly.

His clothes were already soaked in blood. I ripped a strip off the bottom of my shirt and attempted to wrap it around his neck as a makeshift tourniquet.

"Don't, it's dirty, you might infect the wound." Will was next to me, crouched above him. He was holding a large white bandage in his hands, along with a gauze. He put them down and instructed me to sit on my knees. He carefully placed Percy's head on my lap, and delicately wrapped the bandage around his neck, securing it in place with the gauze. He fished some ambrosia out of his pocket and gingerly fed Percy some.

Will's hands were shaking the entire time. I don't know how he could keep it together without crying. He was entirely focused on the task at hand.

I was dimly aware that a group had gathered around us. Someone was crying. Another was swearing. Someone—Hazel, maybe? Reyna?—put an arm around my shoulder.

Tears were still flowing down my face. They wouldn't stop, just like Percy refused to stop his recklessness. I wish he had. He might be alive, then. Stop, I chastised myself. Don't torture yourself. Accept the present for what it is.

It hurts. My head hurts. My arms hurt. My legs hurt. My chest hurt. My heart hurts worse than anything.

My ears buzzed loudly. I shuddered. I closed my eyes, bowed over, and pressed my forehead to the cold, moist soil.

"Nico?" asked the person with their arm around me. It was Jason, of all people. The only one who knew what Percy was to me. I couldn't speak, so Will spoke for me, voice cracking.

"He's gone."

#dark!percy #percy jackson #nico di angelo #heroes of olympus #hoo #the giant war #percabeth #dead annabeth #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #fanfiction #fanfic #part eight #final part #grand finale #angst

[officebubble]

Presage of the end

Summary: The journey of a soldier made anew, riddled with the guilt of his past and on a steady path to redemption.

Warnings: Violence, injury, mild language, more warnings as the series progresses.

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I decided to post this chapter today, along with earlier's because this one is pretty short. The next chapter is a long one however, and someone long awaited is making an appearance. Thank you for the support!

//

Chapter eight

Wakanda

Bucky was scheduled to come see you today, and you had to admit that you were glad to finally be seeing him after a little while. He couldn’t visit you all the time because he was obviously still in his own healing process, but he took the time to come and talk to you every now and then, which you appreciated.

His visits usually consisted of you asking questions and him answering as best he could, but it had helped a lot during your time in Wakanda, put your mind at ease, no matter how briefly. You had come to find some comfort in him, there was this quiet bond between the two of you due to your similar experiences, he understood you on a much deeper level than anyone else, and on those troubled nights where the day was just a little too hard, he was a shoulder you could lean on.

“How was today?”, he questioned softly

You took a moment to best formulate your words, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, “It was… foreign.”

“Foreign?”

“Yeah… I saw so much that I just, didn’t know or remember.”

Bucky took a seat next to you on your bed, nodding softly, “How did you feel?”

You sighed, wringing your hands together on your lap, “Lost…like I didn’t know whose memories I was looking at, whose mind I was in.”

“I remember that feeling, like you’re looking through someone else’s mind.”, he continues at your small nod, “It’s okay to feel that way, you weren’t truly present for a lot of those memories so you can’t be expected to remember them.”

“I just can’t help but feel like I was there, like a part of me knew what I was doing and did nothing to stop it.”

“You can’t think like that. Hydra they… they were a disease in your mind, a disease that eliminated any rational thinking. If you had been in control, I know you wouldn’t have done those things.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Okay, maybe I can’t, but from what I’ve seen… you’re trying Y/N, and that’s something no one can take away from you.”

You lowered your head it his words, you didn’t know if you fully believed them. It didn’t matter what part of you Hydra controlled, all those things you did, the people you hurt. It was still you. Some part of you.

“Do you regret it?”

Bucky’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you turned to him with a frown, “What?”

“Do you regret it? Everything they made you do?”

“Of course, all the time.”

Bucky only smiled which confused you even further, “Someone who had the intention of hurting all those people, the ability to kill and not feel even an ounce of remorse, they wouldn’t be burdened by their guilt as you are.”

It amazed you how he always knew the right thing to say but you suppose it’s because he had been told the same thing when he was in your position. He always had a new perspective for you to look at, a different angle on the situation.

A grateful smile crept onto your lips, and you took a deep inhale, running your hands tiredly over your face.

“Thanks, Bucky.”

He hums, turning away for a moment and you sense that he has something else to say, “What is it?”

He clears his throat, looking your way, almost like he’s contemplating something, “I’m not supposed be telling you this but… Steve’s been thinking about flying you to the tower.”

You pause at his words, frowning as you take them in. Why would Steve do that? The last time you were there, you fought half of his team, “Why?”

Bucky raises his shoulders uncertainty, “I don’t know, I think he wants to give you another chance with the team. He had mentioned having enough faith in you to not hurt anybody but I’m not sure if he’ll go through with it.”

You but the inside of your cheek, avoiding his gaze when you asked, “What do you think?”

“About letting you go back?”

You nod.

Bucky inhales deeply, tilting his head slightly, “Uh, I think it would be a good opportunity for some trust building but…”

You sigh at his pause, anticipating his next words, “You can say it, I don’t mind.”

Bucky smiles sympathetically, “I just don’t think that you’re ready for that. You’re still impulsive and unpredictable. I just don’t want you guys to get off on the wrong hand.”

You chuckle humourlessly, rubbing your temples, “We already did.”

Bucky hums, moving to stand up, “Well, whatever he does, I’ll be there to support you. No matter what.”

You hum in agreement, forcing a small smile and it seems to satisfy him, “Don’t think too much about it, Steve knows what he’s doing.”

You sure hope he did, it wasn’t that you necessarily thought that you were still a threat to them, but you still weren’t… normal. You acted impulsively and your mood could switch at any moment, these people had helped you and you didn’t want to hurt them again but more importantly, you didn’t want to let Steve down. You couldn’t, he had put so much faith in you, put so much on the line for you and it’d only prove them right if you were to go down there and cause any trouble.

//

“Sir, the prototype was successful, there’s a few manufactural issues but I’ve got my men working on it.”

“Good, we’ll try Stark again tonight, so have it done by then. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Brock watched as the agent took off somewhere, a grin pulling onto his lips at the prospect of his master plan coming into action, once the prototype was complete, he’d launch his operation. His mind swam with thoughts of what they could do with a vibranium army, he’d be unstoppable.

Looking around for any agents in his close vicinity, he crept back into one of the backrooms of the warehouse, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking the rusty metal door. Stepping inside, he locked the door, flicking the lights on and admiring the metal bot in front of him.

He had been collecting information from the newest blueprints and had taken a slight detour, building his own machine, just larger, and he had a lot planned for his new creation. Sleek metal standing 7 foot tall, glimmering in the dim lights, it was perfect, all for a few crucial puzzle pieces, but he’d obtain them soon enough.

He stepped forward, running his hands along the robot with a dark grin, “Together, we will rule the world.”

Together. He didn’t need anybody else.

A few hours later

“Such useless things.”, Brock groans as he kicks an agents body out of his way, the agents that once littered the warehouse were just going to hold him back, so he killed them, his plan was going exceedingly well, he didn’t need them.

Walking out into the open warehouse and breathing in a deep breath of air, he chuckled to himself, “This is going to be fun.” He walks over to the generator, flicking the switch and watching as all the machines whir to life, unfinished bot circling around on the conveyer belts, parts and wires being attached as they move throughout the warehouse. He walks over to one of them, running his hands across the chest plate and titling his head at the hydra logo. Reaching into his back pocket and lifting his hand, he digs his pocketknife into it, carving a large ‘U’ in the middle and shrugging, “That’ll have to do.”

He hums a tune as he walks over to the computer, pausing when he finds what he’s looking for and looking back at the clanging machines in thought. He had a plan already forming in his head, he’d stay on the down low, continue making his bots, and then he’d initiate the next part of his plan.

//

Avengers tower, New York

Music played at an unbearable volume in the room as Tony examined all the holograms he had pulled up, nodding his head along to the song.

“Sir, your efforts are futile, my system has been restored.”

Tony shook his head at Jarvis’ words, placing his hand on his chin in thought, “My efforts are not futile, Jarvis, my efforts are for you. I need to know what happened the other night when you glitched the hell out.”

Tony was growing increasingly frustrated; he might have been completely inebriated the night it happened, but he wanted to know who had messed with his system. Although they didn’t manage to get through, it would still take a lot of advanced tech and time to get as far as they did, and he wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing about it.

“While I appreciate your dedication, sir, I believe you should just, how do you say it? ‘Drop it’.”

“What- I’m not dropping anything Jarvis, I spent years developing you, making your firewall unbreakable and the fact that someone almost broke it,” Tony shakes his head, resuming his task, “You’re telling me that there’s no way of you knowing who it was? Where it came from?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Tony groaned, slamming his fists down on the table, “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just give it up.”

Tony frowned at Jarvis’ words, standing up straight, “Jarvis, what’s up with you?”

“I do not know, sir. It appears my system is malfunctioning- malfunctioning- malfunctioning.”

Tony takes a step back at the change in Jarvis’ voice, it’s much deeper now, completely unfamiliar to Tony. He quickly calls for Steve on his phone, watching as the screens in front of him glitch uncontrollably.

“What happened?”, Steve asks, rushing into the room.

Tony points at his screens, holding his finger to his mouth to get Steve to listen to Jarvis’ repeating sentences. Steve frowns, moving closer to the screens and watching them in confusion, the question on the tip of his tongue dies as he hears Jarvis speak again.

“Stark, what a pleasant su-su-surprise.”, the voice laughs, making Tony swivel his head around the room looking for any potential intruders.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? Well, it’s not that simple, Stark. I have been given a golden opportunity to right the wrongs of the world, and there is so much that I want, but it all starts with… you.”

Tony looks to Steve with panicked eyes and Steve speaks back to the voice, “Tell us who you are.”

“I am not a person, Captain, neither am I confined to the frail, useless body of a human. I am everywhere imaginable, all at once. I cannot tell you who I am, where’s the fun in that?." The voice sighs, "You Avengers are so oblivious, so content with believing that you had reached the end, but this is only the beginning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hydra, you familiar with them?”

Steve narrows his eyes, shaking his head, “Hydra? We stopped them- “

“It’s like a cancer, Captain. You abolish one part, and it just grows back elsewhere, stronger. Did you really think you could get rid of them?”

By this time, Natasha, Sam, and Clint had heard the commotion and made their way into the room, sharing puzzled glances. Jarvis had been taken over, that much was clear, but they didn’t know by what.

“Them? You’re not with hydra?”, Natasha questions.

“God no, they’re too inferior for my liking. I am on my own mission to success, and my plan is commencing perfectly.”

The team don’t really know what to do at this point, Tony had already tried to get Jarvis back through his computer but the AI had just shut him out. “As nice as it was talking to you, I have some business to attend to. I look forward to seeing you again, Avengers.”

Silence. The voice had seemingly disappeared and all that was left was a quiet room full of shocked Avengers. Steve turned away, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Maria, and Tony slumped into his chair, leaning his head on his hand with a heavy sigh. Around 30 minutes went by until Maria was storming into the room, demanding answers on what had happened, but the team had no answers to give her.

//

Shield HQ

“Maria, get your ass back over here, now.”

“I’m dealing with something right now- “

“Well leave, and make your way here, I won’t ask again.”, Fury shook his head as he ended the call, pacing up and down his office, his day was going terribly. First, he gets news of an unknown being breaking into Tony’s system, and now he’s just been informed that two of his men have been found slaughtered in their quarters. His patience was running thin, and he needed answers.

“What the hell even happened?”, Maria exasperated, speed walking into the room.

“Hell, if I know, two idiots were found dead in their rooms this morning and apparently nobody knows how or why.”

“Were there any signs of intrusion?”

“No, their rooms were spotless, all for them of course.”, Fury leans his hands on his desk, titling his body forward and groaning quietly.

“Anything on the bodies? Any leads to who could have done it?”

“Nothing except for the name ‘Ultron’ carved out into their skin.”

Maria frowns, crossing her arms, “Ultron? What is that?”

Fury reaches into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a bottle of pills and putting two in his mouth, “It’s beyond me.”, as he swallows the pills, he sits down in his chair and clears his throat. “Get the Avengers on it, I don’t have time to be dealing with this, sweep the building as well, I don’t need anyone else dead today.”

Maria nods, pulling her phone out as she leaves the room, calling Steve and telling him of their latest findings, he sighs tiredly on the other end and she knows he’s struggling under the weight of it all, but she trusts that he’ll know what to do.

She has an uneasy feeling in her stomach, too much has happened in such a short period of time and she can’t help but feel that it’s only going to get worse.

//

Avengers tower, meeting room

The team had been deliberating all afternoon, trying to find the best approach to their current predicament but so far, they had come up with nothing. They were trying to find any links between the murder of those two soldiers and whatever had taken over Jarvis, Steve had considered Maria’s information about the name carved into the soldiers’ skin but he hadn’t gotten a name from the mysterious AI so he couldn’t come to any conclusions.

“It isn’t a coincidence that both these things happened on the same day, there has to be something that we’re missing.”, Sam comments, looking around at his team with a desperate gaze, he was just as eager to get to the bottom of this. The team only slumped in their chairs, not having an answer for him, they were all feeling pretty dejected, and they feared that things would escalate to a degree they couldn’t handle.

“There isn’t much we can do until he shows himself.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“What we always do, we shouldn’t let this take up all of our time, there’s still other threats out there, people who need help.”, Steve concludes, receiving affirmative nods from his team members, and as they all filed out of the room, he tried to organise his thoughts. There wasn’t anything else he could do other than keep close contact with Maria and Fury, and if any threats were to arise, AI related or not, he’d be ready. He had no idea what they were up against, but he was sure, as a team, they’d abolish whatever was posing a threat on their lives and make it out in one piece.

//

Sokovia

“Do you think they are ready?”

Strucker watched the boy and girl in front of him, a smirk developing on his lips, “Not yet, but soon… very soon.”  

To the left, a brown-haired boy ran manic in his cell, his enhanced speed causing him to shake uncontrollably and crash into his cell walls, a trail of blue mist following his every move. To the right, a brown-haired girl sat on her knees, petite hands gliding through the air. Her nimble fingers curled, manipulating the red tendrils weaving through them, a few wooden blocks floating in the air, encapsulated by the same crimson magic. With a flick of her wrists, the blocks hit the wall, her eyes glowing a fascinating scarlet.

#Avengers #male reader #part eight #slowburn #wanda maximoff

[tv-moments]

Ahsoka

Season 1, “Part Eight: The Jedi, the Witch and the Warlord”

Director: Rick Famuyiwa

DoP: Quyen Tran

#Ahsoka #The Jedi #Season Finale #Part Eight #Ahsoka S01E08 #Season 1 #Rick Famuyiwa #Quyen Tran #Diana Lee Inosanto #Morgan Elsbeth #Dave Filoni #Disney+ #Lucasfilm #Golem Creations #TV Moments #TV Series #TV Show #television #TV #TV Frames #cinematography #October 3 #2023

[rhapsodyred-writes]

Roxy found herself outside the doors to the kitchen. Toni was right, it was high time for a break. And luckily for her, there was a delicious smell sneaking through the crack between the grand wooden doors. It smelled like cookies.

"Hello," Roxy called as she pushed the doors open with a flourish. "I hope you saved some for me!"

A tired chuckle sounded from the other side of the island, a little to Roxy's left.

"Every time I make cookies," Sasha started, crossing her arms. She was smiling wryly, which was a bit unusual for her. "People come running. Why is that?"

"Oh! Oh!" Owen raised a hand from where he was sitting at the island. He wasn't a ferret anymore, but there were still smears of paint up his arms. "It's because they smell so good!"

"And," Dezyn's voice sounded from the other side of Owen. His head was buried in his arms on the island top. "I can't be trusted to make them myself, after last time."

"No wonder," Lillianna scoffed from the far countertop she was leaning against, "when you mix up the salt and sugar measurements."

"Not what happened, but okay." Dezyn sounded tired.

Roxy wondered briefly if he'd re-unorganized his room, or if he'd just given up. Or maybe he was just perpetually tired.

"So we really all just came here for snacks?" Roxy asked, stepping forward to claim the empty seat on the near side of Owen.

"Yup!"

"Uh huh."

"Actually, I came to learn Sasha's secret recipe." Lillianna seemed proud to relay that she was not merely here to snack on the results.

"One of these days I'm going to make cookies for myself and not share with the rest of you." There was a hint of sincerity in Sasha's tone, but her easy smile made it hard to tell if she was serious or not.

Owen and Dezyn both groaned, but Roxy felt like she had a right to that.

"It's alright," Roxy waved a hand as Sasha turned to pull the cookies out of the oven. "I can grab something else to snack on."

"Oh it's fine, you're here anyway," She said, putting the cookies on a cooling rack on the island. When Owen reached out to grab one, she swatted at him. "Hands to yourself unless you want to get burned.

"So," Sasha turned to look at Roxy. "Heard you've been running all over the place today."

"Ah, yeah." Roxy chuckled and turned to look at Owen, who looked sheepish about something. "One of my swords has gone missing and now I've learned Salem has it. Or at least he was last seen with it." She sighed. "So now I'm looking for a missing sword and a pompous dragon."

"Who told you he had it?" Lillianna asked, head titled and a slight frown on her face.

Roxy retraced her last few visits.

"Well, Aquarios described something that sounded like the sword I'm looking for, and he also said he thought it was Salem's, so that's who he called."

Lillianna nodded, but she didn't seem convinced.

"Then I went to see Toni, and she said she saw Salem with it. Kind of sounded like he'd left her lab shortly before I got there."

"Well," Lillianna muttered in a very un-ladylike way, "at least you have eye-witness testimony."

Roxy was frozen for a few seconds. She knew Lillianna was old world in a lot of ways, but really?

"Eh, don't let it bother you," Dezyn said, sitting up straight to look at Roxy with his eyes closed at the same time as Sasha rounded on Lillianna for saying something so unbelievably rude. "She still can't stomach me being able to see with my eyes closed."

"You're a biological anomaly!" Lillianna insisted.

Dez just sighed and rested his forehead on his arms again. "Don't I know it."

"Regardless," Roxy said, loudly enough to be heard over Sasha and Lillianna. Silence settled. "I don't suppose anyone's seen Salem recently?"

No one seemed to have any ideas about where he might be, and Dezyn was resolute in his decision not to go into Salem's room uninvited. Which left Roxy with no leads.

"Alright." She grabbed a cookie from the tray, paused, and grabbed another one. "I guess I'll keep looking. Thanks for the cookies." She gestured her thanks to Sasha and headed back through the heavy wooden doors into the hallway.

--

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#part eight #who has roxy's sword? #this part is a bit longer than the rest so far #roxy #sasha #owen g cash #dezyn santiago #lillianna grace #my ocs #my writing #lillianna may act the perfect lady but she is not

[chobit92]

House Of Wax: Part Eight

@rubycstory07 😊

(Kaia has gone back downstairs. She takes another swig of whiskey and glances around listening. She can still hear the TV in the lounge. She turns and walks to the front door. She opens it and walks outside. She walks down the road past the wax museum. The building is tall and imposing. The town is lit up when she reaches it. She supposes it was beautiful once, before all of this. A quaint and out of the way little spot perfect for small families and people who didn’t much like the city. There’s even a pet shop and a movie theatre. She takes another swig of whiskey and heads towards the movie theatre. She wonders what the hell she’s even doing, trying to be nice to Vincent. He killed Whitney and turned her into a sculpture. He’s crazy. It occurs to her now that he’s probably more likely to kill her than Bo is. But what else has she got? She could try and walk out of here now while they are all up at the house but she has no idea what direction to go in and she’s freezing her ass off already. Maybe she could wait until someone else shows up and warn them then get a lift out of here. She laughs to herself and takes another swig of whiskey. She’s getting drunk now, her head feels heavy and things are starting to spin. It’s a rather nice feeling actually. She suddenly doesn’t care much about being cold. Suddenly things don’t seem too bad. She walks into the movie theatre and walks up to the wax boy in the booth.).

Kaia: One ticket please.

(She then walks into the movie theatre and looks around. The film is already playing. It’s always playing the same one. Whatever happened to baby Jane? She sighs and finds an empty seat. She curls up with the whiskey and dozes off.).

(Bo and Lester walk into the kitchen dumping their plates and cutlery in the sink.).

Bo: Hey bitch, washing up!

(Vincent steps into the kitchen. He is now wearing his mask. He puts his plate in the sink.).

Bo: Where’s that fucking whore?

Lester: She’s probably upstairs.

(Bo stomps up the stairs. Lester sits down at the table and opens another beer.).

Lester: Want one Vincent?

(Vincent shakes his head.).

Lester: Suit yourself.

(Bo stomps back down the stairs cursing under his breath.).

Bo: She ain’t up there.

Lester: Well she can’t have gotten far. She’ll turn up.

Bo: She’s done a runner. Little bitch.

Lester: A runner? To where? There ain’t nowhere for miles and she’s barefoot and hardly got any clothes on. Stop worrying.

Bo: Now I gotta go drag her back here. Should just keep her tied up.

Lester: Well why don’t you then? Why did you even keep her anyway? Better to just kill her. Less hassle that way.

Bo: Hm. I don’t wanna kill her. Not yet.

Lester: Not done fucking her.

Bo: What, you jealous?

Lester: Why you gonna share her with me?

(Bo chuckles.).

Bo: Surprised you ain’t had her already.

Lester: Nah. You’ve spoiled her now. Don’t wanna be fucking my brothers piece now do I?

(Lester laughs and bangs his fist on the table. Bo slaps him over the back of the head.).

Bo: Shut up.

Lester: Oh cool off would yah?

(The front door opens and Kaia stumbles in. They all turn to look at her.).

Lester: Ah there she is.

Bo: Where have you been?

Kaia: The movie theatre.

(She shrugs. She is holding the now empty bottle of whiskey. Bo looks at it.).

Bo: Is that my fucking whiskey? You cheeky-

Lester: She’s fucking pissed! Look at her.

(Kaia can see that Bo is angry. Maybe if she plays along with him, maybe if she just makes him happy he won’t beat her. Feeling sick at the thought of what she’s doing she walks over to him and leans against him.).

Kaia: It’s okay baby. Don’t be mad.

(She kisses him and slides a hand over his crotch. He chuckles.).

Bo: Whoa there steady on.

Kaia: I just wanted to go out. Watch a movie.

(Lester raises his eyebrows.).

Lester: Was it any good, the movie?

Kaia: I fell asleep.

Lester: Well no wonder. You drank that whole bottle.

Kaia: It wasn’t full when I opened it.

Lester: It was full enough. You best go sleep it off.

Bo: Yep. Let’s go get you up to bed.

Kaia: Okay.

(Bo takes the empty bottle from her and puts it on the counter. She smiles to herself then walks over to Vincent wrapping her arms around him. He seems to shrink away from the contact.).

Kaia: Night Vincent.

(She then blows Lester a kiss.).

Kaia: Night Lester.

(She stumbles backwards and starts to sing.).

Kaia: I’ve written a letter to daddy.

(Lester laughs.).

Lester: Fuck she’s hammered!

(He bangs his fist on the table still laughing.).

Bo: Yeah. Right come on.

(Bo lifts Kaia into his arms and carries her up the stairs.).

(Vincent wakes up. He isn’t sure what woke him but he realises he needs to piss. Maybe that’s why he’s awake. He sits up and switches on the bedside lamp. He picks up his mask putting it on before leaving his bedroom and going down the hall to the bathroom. The bathroom light is already on and the door is ajar. Vincent hears someone sobbing and peers into the bathroom. It’s Kaia. She is just pulling her knickers up. Then she stumbles towards the sink. He then hears her throwing up. He pushes the door open and sees her sink to the floor. She lies there on the cold tile breathing slowly.).

Kaia: Vincent?

(Her voice is barely a whisper. Vincent leans over her peering down at her. She is wearing just underwear.).

Kaia: Don’t tell me. You’re thinking serves me right huh? Shouldn’t have drank too much.

(She lets out a small laugh. She closes her eyes.).

Kaia: I’ll just sleep here. Can’t be asked to get up.

(Vincent shakes his head then steps over her. She hears the rustling of fabric then Vincent peeing. She finds herself smiling despite the complete weirdness of this whole situation. He’s just completely ignoring the fact that there is a half naked young woman lying on the floor in his bathroom. A woman that has been repeatedly violated by his brother. She wonders what happened to these brothers to make them like this. Maybe some people are just born evil. But then what is evil? She wonders how Vincent can just carry on and ignore her lying there. She wonders what he thinks. He obviously couldn’t care less. About anything. She sighs. She hears the toilet flush then Vincent prods her with his foot).

Kaia: What?

(He prods her with his foot again harder this time. She realises that he wants her to move.).

Kaia: No I told you. I’m not moving. I’m going to sleep here.

(Vincent shoves her with his foot again this time hard enough to turn her over onto her back. She groans then looks up at him.).

Kaia: Why are you bullying me? Go back to bed.

(Vincent points to the door.).

Kaia: Yes. It’s that way. You should go that way. Nothing to see here.

(Vincent shakes his head and she hears him let out a breath.).

Kaia: Do I have to move?

(Vincent nods. She sighs and lifts her arms up.).

Kaia: You better help me up then.

(Vincent lets out another huff then leans down and grips her arms tight before pulling her to her feet. She almost falls backwards as she tries to steady herself.).

Kaia: Whoa head rush.

(She leans against him.).

Kaia: Guess I should get some more sleep.

(She sniffs then leaves the bathroom stumbling down the hallway. She suddenly decides to try something. She might as well. Things can’t get any worse can they? Instead of going into Bo’s bedroom she carries on walking until she gets to Vincent’s. She goes inside and flops down onto the bed. She feels something wet touch her hand and she yanks it backwards looking around. She sees Vincent’s dog standing next to the bed looking at her. She smiles.).

Kaia: Night doggy.

(She flops back down onto the pillow. Vincent has followed her and is standing in the doorway. He walks over to the bed and grabs her arm. She lets out a moan and looks up at him. He points at her then shakes his head before pointing at the door.).

Kaia: I can’t sleep here?

(Vincent shakes his head again.).

Kaia: Why not? I don’t snore. Promise.

(Vincent must have had enough now because he grabs her roughly lifting her off of the bed before carrying her down the hall. He kicks open Bo’s bedroom door and walks in putting her down on the bed next to him.).

Kaia: I don’t want to sleep here.

(Vincent ignores her turning and leaving the room closing the door behind him. Well that went well. Her head is pounding and Bo is snoring. She sighs as tears sting her eyes. She sits up and looks around the room. Maybe she could kill him while he’s asleep. The thought has occurred to her before of course. Quite often. But she’s always too scared to do it. Scared that he’ll wake up and catch her in the act. Scared that if she did manage it she’ll be caught before she can escape. Vincent might hear and he’d definitely kill her. Besides she doesn’t see anything that she could kill him with. She could hit him with something but that might be too loud and bring Vincent running. She can’t smother him with the pillow as he’d wake up and he’d be mad. He’d fight her off easily. She sighs and flops back down onto the pillow. She’s never getting out of here. She might not be shackled to the bed tonight. But she’s still a prisoner.).

#House of Wax #Fanfic #fanfiction #My Writing #Writing #Kaia #Whitney #OC #original characters #Vincent Sinclair #Bo Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #Ambrose #Part Eight