#'hold your breath and hold on tight‚ hunker down‚ try not to cry' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empresskylo · 8 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.

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sapphicmumrik · 1 year

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thanks Soundcloud user Ezra for uploading We’re History (listed as the Meteorite song). I’m gonna listen to it forever

#HOLD YOUR BREATH HOLD ON TIGHT HUNKER DOWN TRY NOT TO CRY #TELL THE CRITTERS THAT YOU LOVE THAT YOU LOVE THEM THATS ENOUGH

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syn0vial · 1 year

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It's been a long and winding trip And who'd have thought it'd come to this? The end of days, a cosmic kiss

Hold your breath and hold on tight Hunker down, try not to cry Tell the critters that you love That you love them, that's enough

'Cause there's no stopping what's to come Some shit's just etched into the stars Calamities you can't outrun And when, sweet Earth, we finally meet The sky will burn and boil the sea As mountains rend, it's you and me—

Here at the end of history.

#sorry i just really liked the lyrics this episode and wanted to put them somewhere #songs about lovingly facing the apocalypse always Get me for some reason #also: shane madej release the PH soundtrack on spotify challenge #puppet history #puppet history spoilers

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whumpasaurus101 · 8 months

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Chapter Four

WOOO Niko does not have a fun time, nor will he for quite a while <3

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Niko thought that being in the room by himself would be a nice break, but it wasn't as great as he thought. He sat on the cold concrete ground, hugging his knees tight to his chest as he felt a shiver ripple up his spine. His body was shaking, only exhausting him more.

There was a dim light bulb over him, flickering occasionally. All he could hear was the distant buzz of the electricity and the occasional drip as water fell from his soaked clothes and hair. He took a shaky breath, not allowing himself to cry. Stop it. You’ve been trained for this. They were right, you are weak.

His wounds stung, Aaron had warned him not to bring the knife, but Niko had heard all the stories about Martyn- it was stupid to go in without defence.

The door clicked open, making Niko jump, his head snapping up. His eyes met with his target’s and he gulped.

“Niko, Niko, Niko,” Martyn drawled, slowly stepping into the room, “Had a nice reflection?”

Niko glared up at the man, hatred bubbling in his chest, “Let me go,” He growled, fists clenching as his knuckles were white.

“You look cold,” Martyn remarked, pouting slightly before smiling, “I have a lovely warm bath drawn for you and a change of clothes heating up on the radiators. I could even get you a nice warm bowl of soup too. Doesn't that sound nice?”

Niko hated how his stomach grumbled. He hugged his knees even tighter to his chest. It sounded like pure heaven. He would do anything for that- no… no he wouldn't. He’s going to stay strong for his team… strong and cold.

Martyn took a few strides forward before bending down to his hunkers, cupping Niko’s cheek as he smiled, “All you have to do is tell me about your team.”

Niko’s bottom lip started wobbling as a whimper escaped his throat, “I-I don't- I-” he blew out a shaky breath, blinking hard as he licked his lips. Don't you dare cry. His body was shaking from the cold as his brain whirled, trying to figure out what to do.

“My..my date, she had all the links!” “What’s her name?”

“I…I don't remember-”

“Bullshit you don't remember.”

Niko winced as the grip turned harsh against his skin, “N-No…I don't remember, we- we had only met the other day-” His voice sounded desperate. He had to watch his every word, being sure not to give away too much and not slip up.

“Well, you're a shitty date,” Martyn scoffed, “I'll be honest, Niko, I am calling bullshit. I wouldn't take you as that kind of a person. And not to mention, the knife we found on you does not back up your story, now does it?”

Niko gulped. Ah… he forgot about that…

“Here’s how it goes, Niko, for every lie you tell me, the less and less of my trust you have. I'll be honest, buttercup, you are really making things harder on yourself than it has to be.”

Niko gulped, the lump in his through only seeming to be getting bigger the longer he held in his cries.

“Nothing?” Martyn hummed, “Gonna give me the silent treatment?”

Niko clenched his jaw, looking away as Martyn’s hold on him left. Martyn let out a sigh before standing, “Right, have it your way. Up on your knees.”

Niko’s eyes snapped back to meet his captor’s, eyebrows furrowing. Martyn simply raised and eyebrow and waited. Niko clenched his jawn tight before slowly getting to his knees.

Martynn beamed, “There we go! Now, hold out your arms nice and straight before you, do not drop them until I say so, understood?”

Niko rolled his eyes before holding out his arms. This was stupid, what kind of dumb joke was this?

But the distant burn traveling from his shoulders, rippling through the length of his arms soon shut him up. About a minute in, hi sarms began shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut tight before slightly lowering his arms.

“Up.” Was all he had to hear to force himself to raise them back up. God it burned.

“This can all be over once you just tell me what I want to know.” martyn cooed, circling the shaking figure. Niko tried to distract himself with anything he could. COunting from one to ten and then ten to one.

“Hands behind your head now.”

“I-I cant…” Niko whimpered, his eyes screwed shut tight.

“You can, and you will,” Martyn growled, “Unless you would like to share some information with me.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he considered his options for a moment before moving his hands behind his head;

Stay strong for the team.

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Taglist: @blood-enthusiast @deckofaces @whumpifi @sleepy-dog-boy @whumpatize-me-captain @a-n-i-a-fan @sparrowsage @theelvishcowgirl @sorry-i-spaced @juniperspring @cherrychupachup @morning-star-whump @thelazywitchphotographer

#whumpee #whump #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #niko #martyn #marcus #stress position #whump series #lee wrote something :o

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trashworldblog · 1 year

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sorry but the lyric change from “we’ll hold our breaths, and hold on tight, hunker down, try not to cry” to “we’ll hold our breaths, and hold on tight, hunker down, have a little cry” makes me emotional.

something about being so close to the end and not being able to hold in your tears anymore because you know it’s gonna end soon so you may as well let the tears fall while the people you love are around you, and are experiencing the same thing

#puppet history #watcher #shane madej #watcher entertainment #the professor

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blorbologist · 2 years

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Be my echo

(TW - discussion of Laudna’s death in Whitestone and some graphic violence/body horror standard for Laudna. And C3 episode 33 spoilers. ahaha. aha.)

“Laudna? Where are you?”

She can’t reply, and she wants to cry and scream or coo and soothe that she’s right here, she’s okay, it’s fine, Imogen run, Imogen run. But she can’t do anything but be a discarded dolly on the ground as the object of Imogen’s nightmares smiles and moves to her next target.

She’s dead, not deaf, silly. Can’t quite turn off the seeing, or the feeling, or the hearing, even if she’s a puppet with her strings cut.

Laudna would never leave her without an answer.

It was really the most childish thing, but the first time, after (what, do you want her to say it? After, you know. Oh, it sounds like something dirty, when she avoids saying it. Maybe it is.)

Where was she? Oh, yes! Blablabla, Laudna had called out for her mother.

It wasn’t anything ruinous. She’d just fled Whitestone - they hadn’t bothered to give her shoes, but Laudna was used to gamboling along without them, so really no harm done, comparatively - and had hunkered down in something with four walls and half a roof. And in trying to curl up, and bring together her lovely dress for some warmth and pillows and maybe a little comfort too, she’d torn the hem.

It squalled, a cry as the most beautiful thing she had ever held sheared under her bloodied nails (when had they become bloodied?), and Laudna had - she just - she had sobbed, at this tiny little scrap of terrible upon a terrible day, and something that could have been “mom? Mom, fix it, please?” had stumbled out between her perfect teeth.

Which was stupid. Mother was terrible with a needle and thread. She wouldn’t have fixed it, that would have been for Laudna to do.

But mother would have sighed, gently exasperated, and kissed her forehead when she insisted she wasn’t crying over a silly dress, see, and helped her out of this soggy and gorgeous funeral gown and gotten her into some jammies, and maybe sat by her bedside and pet her hair and oh Pelor, oh Eraths the dress is even worse, now, because she’s crying and it’s not tears it’s black - and oh gods, oh both of you and all of you, because mother’s not here she’s dead and it’s only Laudna who came back.

It kept happening. She’d be cold and ask the shadow in the doorway for some soup, please, mother? Feeling lost, she’d whistle and expect one of the farm dogs to find her and bring her home. Her run would end in a tumble into a ditch and she’d glance up, expecting father’s broad, sturdy hand to help her up.

She just kept looking for them, which was silly, because she knew they were dead and gone, or gone and dead, or gone, or dead, and why did this reflex live longer than she had?

Laudna grew out of it. She thinks? Funny, so funny, that she became a strong, independent young woman after death. Took the better part of a year, which she thinks is excellent time given everything she was dealing with.

But it was a reflex. Like pulling your hand from an open flame, or blinking, or holding your breath. And she kept some of those, so, really, how strange to think she’d kept that one?

What little she’d been unable to get rid of (had kept, tight to her chest, which was easy enough to do when she could kinda slide her hand under her skin in some places), Delilah took care of. She was very good at housekeeping, for a noble! Very imperious - this stays, that goes, clean this up, I live here too, now and I will not live in a pigsty of a mind.

(Well, a little part of Laudna had sneered, maybe you shouldn’t have shacked up with little ol’ me. A little skinny stray cat, a street dog, you have no clue what sort of living I was up to. When I was alive, I mean. Could be a pigsty is where I slept. You never asked.)

Delilah was still someone, though. And Laudna looked to her, sometimes.

When she was especially tired, or sad, or lonely. When she either forgot in the moment (it was just a day, one day, and this stretched on years, you’ve forgotten the details of so many days, right? Right?) or her despair was so great she didn’t care, anyone was someone, she’d talk to her.

Delilah rarely responded. Sometimes she sent a feeling, you know? Equivalent to a ‘get well soon’ card - can’t be bothered, socially obligated to try. And sometimes she preyed on it, used the moment to twist at Laudna in ways she didn’t like, but she also liked it because she reached out and someone reached back. Even if they were reaching to grab her, hold her chin in her hand and go ah yes, she’ll do quite nicely - thank you, dear.

Where was she going with this? Hm. Pâté, a little help?

Oh. Oh, where is he?

(Had she dropped him, or can’t he hear her, either, when she’s closer to being dead-dead?)

Ah. Yes, oh! Point of all that rambling: Laudna is used to finding silence where she should find people.

Or. She had been used to this, until she found Imogen. Or Imogen found her. Or Delilah found her. Or Imogen found the absence of a person that was her. You know, it’s really complicated.

And when she said her name, Imogen responded.

With a hum, a twang in the air, precursor to a whole jaunty tune, just getting warmed up, or maybe winding down after being strung too tight all day long.

With a ‘yea?’, an opening, a start, a beginning directed at this manifestation of so many ends, loose ends dead ends end of the story, this end of a woman she kept going.

With her name, Laudna, Laud, Laud’na, Loudna, a thousand different tones and pitches and emotions to them she collected like pretty bones on her windowsill.

Imogen always, always responded. Even when she was asleep, which was funny, because she was still alive and slept normally, and she shouldn’t but she did.

Laudna would be pressed close to her, at night, feeling like a thief for taking her body heat, like the luckiest woman alive (hah!) for being granted it. And she would just say it, for fun. Imogen? Iiiimogen? Im’gen? Out loud, as soft as she dared, and she would shift to her. Laudna never did it much, she would never disrupt her already fitful sleep, but it brought something warm to the space where her dead heart sat.

And of course Laudna always responded. Because Imogen had known what it was like, to reach and receive nothing in return, too, and she would never impose that on her. Never, never - she’d endured it for decades and decades, she’d be damned if Imogen endured it a day more.

It was normal. It was two years.

“Imogen!” “Yeah”

“Ooooh, Laudna!” “Mmm, yes?”

“Hm?” “Huh.”

“Fuck-” “Oh, dear.”

“Oh, Imogen?” “Hey, Laudna?”

“Imogen, darling?” “Yes, Laud?”

It was constant. Where are you? I’m here! I can’t see you? But you can hear me! What if I still can’t? I can feel you, in my head, in my heart, in me like you’re part of me.

Oh, oh that was a nice way of thinking of it. Part of eachother, yes! Like Imogen carried around a piece of Laudna in her harness satchel, or always clutched in her hand, and Laudna had bits of Imogen in every pocket, so no matter which she’d stick her spindly hands in she’d find her.

Or maybe something a little more morbid, you know - like that piece was an extra organ in their ribcages, a graft. More romantic, because morbid and romantic were truly quite the pair. They made quite the pair. She hadn’t thought about it, before, and it was a little dirty, like a fresh corpse, a little hard to look at, it was so new, not bleached and comfortable bones yet. But it was theirs and her’s and her’s and she cherished knowing it was there, sprouting daisies. Maybe it was a little confusing, a little messy, but everything about Laudna was and it made sense to her.

Two little songbirds, trilling to eachother, trilling to her mate that here were worms for you and here’s a feathered nest for you and how may I preen you? And now one was quiet and one was flying in a storm, and could she not, please don’t, Imogen - Imogen!

She can’t leave her without an answer, she can’t, she can’t leave her with this quiet with this noise with the absence of her -

So the slow, sluggish, sloughing sparkings of the back of her mind ask for Delilah.

And Delilah delights in answering, this time, because she’d been so good, so well behaved, and so well rewarded for it.

She’d take up a thousand deals with this devil if it meant their dialog was never interrupted, if Laudna never went unanswered again.

“Imogen,” Laudna rasps.

She’s pretty sure she tries to add in some other things:

Imogen, I’m here. Imogen, run, please, I’m good at running, I’ll join you. Imogen, don’t run, don’t leave me.

Imogen, I’m damaged, so badly damaged, not in this way but in other ways and oh you know.

Imogen, darling.

Imogen, please. Imogen, I don’t even know what I’m asking. Imogen, I know what I’m asking, and I’m scared.

Imogen, love me? Please? Because I love you, I love you, Imogen I love you and I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll always answer you, I’ll always say yes, because it’s you and I love you, and don’t-

But it’s hard to fit that into six seconds, and it would be a waste of time because she always replies and they’ll have time for this later, so instead she bargains like Delilah would. Ruthless, half-truths, too-much-lies apparently because Otohan hurts Imogen for it and no, no, she didn’t want this.

It’s Whitestone in Bassuras.

If she squints, the sandstorm could be a snowstorm.

The houses could be old stone and cedar.

Those - those things, they could be vampires.

This woman, she could be Delilah.

(Delilah is very indignant at that comparison.)

And guess that makes the rest of the Hells her fellow dinner guests.

Because they’d all replied, too.

“Ooooh Orym!” “Yep?” “If you could turn into any animal, what would it be?” “Why are you like this, mom?”

“Fearne?” She didn’t respond verbally, but something chittered, and she was back to herself and had grinned, bright and devious and the same sort of other as her, and it was still like seeing like.

Laudna wants to die again. Which is silly, very silly, because she’s already dead, and Delilah just so kindly stopped her from being the boring sort of dead, but please -

“Is she your favorite?”

- don’t -

She’s right there, and Laudna’s stared down a bitch thrice as cruel before and smiled, but now she knows what stillness is, she knows what quiet is, and she can’t leave Imogen, she can’t let Imogen leave -

- leave her.

It’s with that same dim awareness that she’s stabbed, and stabbed again and held aloft, and Laudna is so very unlucky, to have her eyes open and taking in the scene even if she can’t process it.

Oh, she thinks, this’ll be so terrible to cover up. Last time she’d had rope burn and bruises, but this would ruin her dress, too. She’d start leaking.

It was more bearable, the first time.

(Mom, fix it, please, please- )

#critical role #critical role fic #critical role fanfiction #cr fanfic #critical role spoilers #critrole spoilers #cr spoilers #imodna #imogen temult #cr imogen #laudna #cr laudna #laudna cr #southerngothic #cr3

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mxsoyo · 1 year

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"the end of days, a cosmic kiss hold your breath and hold on tight hunker down, try not to cry tell the critters that you love, that you love them that's enough"

#aurorus #pokemon #fanart #soyo #mxsoyo #I was redrawing some of my old art when coincidentally the puppet history season finale premiered while I was drawing this.

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thornsnvultures · 2 years

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i have arrived😈

and i’m about to make it your problem

My problem? I'm throwing an Uno reverse card down on you with this unedited angsty Ari fic that I wrote last night ✌️😗

---

Someone's banging on your front door, begging to be let in. Not just anyone though, you know who's at your door tonight.

You told him multiple times that you wanted to be left alone tonight, but if course he just won't listen. The two of you have only been dating a month and yet Ari thinks he needs to be your knight in shining armor, your savior when even the littlest thing goes wrong.

Sure losing your job isn't really a "little thing" so it was understandable that he'd want to be there for you, but Ari didn't know the difference between being supportive and trying to fix things.

You knew he had already started plotting how to get you working the front desk at his garage when you first told him what happened. That was only after you had talked him down from stomping his way over to you to have a word with your boss.

It's sweet, in a bit of an overbearing way, but you didn't have the energy for all that tonight. So you turned your phone off, your favorite sappy movie on, and hunkered down for a night of ice cream and self-pity.

But Ari has other plans.

You're sobbing as you pull the door open. Ari's eyes are wide as they take you in, hair disheveled and dressed in the old concert tee you wore to bed almost every night. You're the least put together Ari's ever seen you and you don't have the energy to process how you feel about that.

No, instead you snort back your tears and say in a shaky voice, "you're gonna wake my neighbors, bear."

Ari grabs you in his big, stupid, strong arms and holds you tight to his chest. If anyone's gonna wake your neighbors, it's you. Wailing like a cat in heat. That warbled, nightmare of a sound that you'd be more embarrassed to be making if you were of sound mind at all. Ari holds you through it, picks you up in those strong arms and carries you to your couch where he sits with you in his lap.

"Let it out, sweetheart. Cry all you want. I'm here. I'm not letting you go again."

"I'm fine, Ari."

You can barely form the words with how haed you're hiccuping.

"You're not, baby. It's okay that you're not."

His hands cradle your face, the rough pads of his thumbs wiping away tears as they fall.

"I didn't want you to worry about me," you say in a small voice. If Ari wasn't watching your lips so intently he might've missed it.

"I'm always gonna worry about you, princess, you know that. Now, I talked to Mark and he said you can take some shifts on the weekends-"

"Ari, stop," you cover his mouth with your hand. "Listen, please?"

Ari silently nods and waits for you to take some deep, calming breaths so you can continue. His hands drop to your waist where they curl around you and hold you close to his chest. You turn your head and rest it on his shoulder, your nose just brushing the column of his throat.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, bear, truly I do. I love that about you, how willing you are to drop everything and run to my side when I need you."

Ari plays with your fingers as you speak, slotting his fingers in the space between yours. He lets the l-word you let slip side. For now.

"But I don't always need you to fix things for me. I'm a big girl, I know how to take care of myself. And there's been blood in the water for a while at that place. It was only a matter of time before the sharks circled and pulled someone under."

Ari nodded and hummed in understanding, but you weren't done.

"I don't need a savior tonight, Ari. I don't need someone to fix all my problems. I just need you."

Ari kisses your forehead, the bristles of his beard in contrast to the softness of his lips. He lifts you by your hips and moves you to straddle him instead of sitting across his lap like you were before. You feel the thick length of him stirring underneath you, belatedly realizing you opened your door to him earlier in just your tshirt and underwear.

Your cunt clenches when he captures your mouth in a heated kiss.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Show me how much you need me."

💖

#im fine with how bad this is #you brought this on yourself lmao #ari levinson fic #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson angst #chris evans fic #ari x reader #ari x you #ari x y/n #maybe ill continue this maybe i wont #maybe ill fly to the moon!#who knows #kaitkat 💖#my fics

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icy-watch · 7 months

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It's been a long and winding trip.

And who've thought, it'd come to this,

The end of days, a cosmic kiss.

Hold your breath, and hold on tight.

Hunker down, try not to cry.

Tell the critters that you love, that you love them.

That's enough...

This reminded me of Puppet History and the most devastating song Shane Madej ever wrote.

#liveblogging #ninjago #rise of the serpentine #season 1 #episode 10 #the green ninja #s01e10

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undescribed1mage · 1 year

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Hold your breath, and hold on tight, hunker down, try not to cry. Tell the critters that you love, that you love 'em, that's enough.

#ride the cyclone #rtc #st cassians chamber choir #Sorry this song makes me sob & think abt them #logainnes lyric posting #rgc rtc

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getvalentined · 1 year

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Pretty upset that musical number in the season finale of Puppet History has some of the most heartwrenching lyrics I've ever heard

It's been a long and winding trip And who'd've thought it'd come to this The end of days, a cosmic kiss Hold your breath and hold on tight Hunker down, try not to cry Tell the critters that you love That you love 'em, that's enough 'Cause there's no stopping what's to come Some shit's just etched into the stars Calamities you can't outrun And when sweet earth we finally meet The sky will burn and boil the sea As mountains rend, it's you and me Here at the end of history

This is about the Chicxulub impact and I am 100% Not Okay about it, but it's from a show about history told by a fuzzy blue puppet that seems to enjoy frustrating a Filipino-American guy who would really rather be talking sports and hunting ghosts. Like. How dare you.

#anyway #all hail the watcher #I guess #these are really good lyrics man #good job to the team #I remember when y'all were trying to get Patreon off the ground #after leaving Buzzfeed #what a fantastic thing #to have come so far

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finsterhund · 1 year

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Today's episode of Watcher's Puppet History actually made me cry. A lot. Jesus fucking christ. Leading up to the song I was already starting the waterworks (no clue why I became so attached to the dinosaur parents. Maybe I'm just lonely lol) and then the song itself took me out. It was almost like it was designed on purpose to cause me specifically this reaction too. Hopefully people will be able to see why.

I'm glad this show is also funny and stupidly goofy as well because it soothes just how empathetic and intelligent it can get at times.

Maybe I'm just extra sensitive because I'm sick but man.

Also cathartic (?) Yeah

Hidden beneath a spoiler

decided to type out some of the asteroid’s lyrics to hopefully convey why this hit me as hard as it did

A lonely life among the stars My destination veiled and far away But I knew one day We'd find each other Then in the dark, a glint, a spark The greens and blues, Be still my heart And once I hit, that's it I'm here forever It's been a long and winding trip And who'd have thought it'd come to this The end of days, a cosmic kiss Hold your breath and hold on tight Hunker down, try not to cry Tell the critters that you love That you love them, that's enough Cause there's no stopping what's to come Some shit's just etched into the stars Calamities you can't outrun And when sweet Earth, we finally meet The skies will burn and boil the sea As mountains rend, it's you and me Here at the end of history it's you and me

#text post #I'm always so shocked at just how high quality the Watcher shows are

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toastytoaster22 · 3 years

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COLD WEATHER TIPS FROM SOMEONE WHO LIVES WHERE IT’S COLD:

I always see posts about layering clothing, but there are so many more creative ways to help keep you warm if you don’t have a lot of warm clothes. But first, a note on layering clothing:

-Your underlayer is your WICKING layer. That means it is a layer specifically to absorb the moisture your body produces. DO NOT USE COTTON AS A BOTTOM LAYER. Use merino wool if possible, but other good substitutions are nylon, polyester and rayon.

-Your middle layer is for insulation. You want AIR POCKETS in there, NOT tight fitting clothes. This is where you want to put your fluffy sweaters, your fleece, down, fur, flannel, or vests. If you do not have these, you can substitute with multiple layers of long sleeve shirts.

-Your outer layer is for keeping the cold away from your body. If you do not have a jacket, you can put on your thickest piece of clothing and then a raincoat over it. Windbreaker if you have one.

ALSO

-Jeans are the absolute worst at holding heat. Use only as a last resort.

-You can’t really ever have too many layers on your feet. Alternate tucking your layers of pants into your layers of socks to keep your ankles warm!

-Wear a hat OVER a hood if it will fit! This will keep your ears warmest.

TAKE OFF/OUT ANY AND ALL JEWELERY/PIERCINGS

-If you have a medical bracelet, DO NOT REMOVE IT. If you can, tuck a layer of clothes between it and your skin.

NON-CLOTHING TIPS:

-Raid your recycling. Gather all cardboard boxes and break them down so that they are flat. Put them on the floor to add more layers between you and the cooling house. Newspaper will also serve the same purpose.

-In an emergency, you can also layer newspaper between clothing layers. Don’t worry about looking stupid if you’re staying warm.

-If you have a tent, set that sucker up in whatever room you have decided to stay in. Stay in it and keep it zipped shut as much as you can, but do NOT cover the vent at the top. You can put the rain fly up, but make sure there is circulating air for you to breathe.

-You are probably not going to feel very hungry at times. DO NOT STOP EATING OR DRINKING. Digestion produces a lot of body heat and the food will give your body energy to keep itself going.

-The best foods are heavy and full of carbs and proteins. Eat nuts, eggs, pasta, meats, and beans. If you are on a diet, now you’re not. If you’re vegetarian... bulk up on those pastas and nuts.

-Try not to sweat. If you are finding yourself getting damp, take off the outer layer just until you start to cool slightly. Then redress! Your bottom layer should dry quickly, and being wet is dangerous.

-On that note, STAY ACTIVE. You are probably going to want to hunker down and snuggle up, but that will make your muscles cramp. Every 15-20 minutes do something that gets you up and about. Walk circles in the room, do a couple jumping jacks, stretch, whatever. Just enough to move some blood around your body. Don’t get sweaty or out of breath, it’s just a little movement.

-CHAPSTICK. ON YOUR LIPS. ON YOUR NOSE. ON YOUR EARS. ON YOUR KNUCKLES. Don’t let your extremities get dry or cracked.

SIGNS OF HYPOTHERMIA:

-Uncontrollable shivering -Slurred speech -Confusion or memory loss -Dizziness or lack of coordination -Inability to be woken from sleep

CHILDREN AND INFANTS!!!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

-Children WILL get colder before you. Make sure they are properly bundled up.

-If you need to breastfeed, put a blanket over the both of you and wait a few minutes for the air to warm before removing or shifting your clothing.

-DO NOT COVER AN INFANTS FACE. ESPECIALLY WHEN SLEEPING. Keep them tucked inside your own clothes when possible. As close to your heart and stomach as possible.

-Put chapstick on children’s cheeks and clean their face often if they are crying or wiping at their nose. This will prevent cracked skin and irritation.

-Make sure your children are staying as hydrated as you! They are going to fuss and not want to drink cold things, but they NEED liquids.

SIGNS OF HYPOTHERMIA IN INFANTS AND TODDLERS ARE DIFFERENT:

-Shortness of breath -Cold, red skin -Lethargy or listlessness

Finally:

CHECK ON YOUR NEIGHBORS. CHECK ON CHILDREN. CHECK ON THE ELDERLY. STAY SNUGGLED. STAY SAFE.

#cold weather prep #cold weather tips #how to stay warm #texas #oklahoma #kansas #winter #emergency cold weather #winter storm help #toasty lives where -15 just happens #i've been out of power for weeks in mid-winter after an ice storm #it's not fun #hopefully this helps someone out there

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marvelouslytrekking · 3 years

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The Code

Pairing: Din Djarin/gn!reader Summary: Mando leaves specific instructions not to leave the ship while he is out on a hunt. Disobey those instructions leads to very terrible consequences - will Mando make it back in time? Word Count: 3232 Warning: Mention of blood, pain, knife, torture, canon-typical violence A/N: I decided to see if the Whumptober prompts inspired anything and here this is.... days 1, 2, & 3 all in one! The specific prompts used were: 1: Bound 2: Gagged 3: “Who did this to you” I hope y'all enjoy! Also don’t forget Feedback Feeds my Soul

Main Masterlist | Other Din fics

You knew that you should have listened to him, he told you not to leave the ship but you wanted to find something other than the terrible rations to eat. You thought that you would be fine. You made sure that the kid was secure in the ship, and you made sure that the ship was in your line of sight, you’d be able to get back to it if you needed.

Everything had been going well, you had found some fruit that was growing and from what you could tell, was edible. You had begun picking the fruit, excited to see what all you could make with what you were finding.

You heard a branch snap, but it wasn’t from your own feet. You scanned the area, surely it was just an animal but you suddenly got a sick feeling in your gut, and knew you needed to get back to the ship. You would just need to engage ground security protocols once you were onboard and both you and the child would be safe.

You had turned to head back to the ship, but it was too late. You saw that they were closer than you, there was no way for you to make it onboard before they did. You didn’t even have to think, the decision had been an easy one, you used the remote controls to engage the protocols, locking the child in the ship when the hunters wouldn’t be able to get to him. It would buy him time until Mando could get back and kill them off.

You then tried to hunker down, they hadn’t seen you yet and you had hoped that it would stay that way. It had bought you some time. You watched from the foliage as they tried to get in the ship to no avail. You felt relief knowing the child was safe, though that relief was only short lived as you suddenly heard movement behind you.

You whipped around quickly, trying to get a blaster shot off but he was faster than you expected and managed to dodge the shot, which just meant that you had signaled the others to your location. You were luckily fast enough to rip your arm panel with the controls for the ship off your arm and shoot that. You got one good step on it too before a blaster shot hit your thigh.

You crumbled to the ground from the pain of the close range shot, you desperately tried to focus on getting out of the situation or fighting your way out of the 5 men, but before you could find your footing again, the man’s foot was on your shoulder, painfully pressing it into the ground. You still tried to get a shot off at him, but he was easily able to pry your blaster from your hand.

“He sure picked a feisty one.” The hunter chucked before grabbing you by the shoulder and pulling you upright. You were surrounded by 2 other men before you were fully upright, one on each side of you, dragging you back towards the ship.

“She destroyed her controls.” The first man told the others, lifting the destroyed band.

“That’s fine, her biometrics should open the ship using the panel at the door.” Another pointed out. You were never more thankful for how paranoid Mando was, while your biometrics were required to get to the controls, to undo something like ground protocols, or really anything, a 6 digit code was also needed. And only you knew your code.

You probably should have let them figure that out themselves but you couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He growled.

“Oh, just that even with a big ass head, you have a tiny fucking brain.” You chuckled. Your insult only earned you two fingers pushing into the wound on your leg, making you cry out.

“Not laughing now.” He smirked, happy with his work. He didn’t waste his time forcing you to the panel, pressing your hand to the reader. You could feel how smug he was when the light went green. There was a moment of anticipation, then the code boxes popped up and you felt the anger and annoyance that he felt realizing what had happened.

You felt the blaster pressed into the back of your head as he took a step away from you. “Open that door right now or I will shoot you.”

“If you kill me you’ll never get in.” You pointed out. You knew that the next few hours or days, depending on how long Mando took, wasn’t going to be pleasant, but you had no plans on giving them that code. You would rather be killed. “Go ahead and shoot me now, because it does not matter what you do, I will never give up that code.”

You turned around slowly, looking down the barrel of the gun, directly into the man’s eyes. You refused to let him think he had you scared, you wanted him to realize that he would fail, that you would die before even thinking about giving up Mando or the kid.

“We’ll see about that.” He locked eyes on you, lowering the gun only slightly. “Tie them up,” You were quickly grabbed and dragged over to a tree that was near the entrance of the ship, you were bound to the tree tightly, a little wiggling told you that you weren’t getting out very easily.

“Alimar! Can you get that damn door open?” The man you assumed was in charge asked the smallest man, who was beside the panel.

“I am trying sir, but the security is very tight and I am afraid that one wrong move and it will just lock down more.”

“Well don’t make a wrong move. I want that damn door open before The Mandalorian gets back here.”

“Now you, you’re going to make his job unneeded and you’re going to tell us your code.”

“Again, not happening.” You rolled your eyes at him. Your answer earned you a swift and strong fist to your gut. You groaned at the pain but straightened yourself.

“Fine, stop, the code is 654321.” You said, making yourself sound more out of breath then you were.

“Don’t enter that!” The man in front of you shouted to Alimar, who was about to enter it as if you would give up that easy.

“Is that the code you enter to warn your little mandalorian? You think I’m that stupid?”

“I guess you’ll never know if I ever even give you the right code or if what I say will do any number of things, from warn Mando, to locking it down further, to self destroying the ship.”

“You wouldn’t risk the kid’s life.” He glared at you, but you could tell the wheels in his brain were turning. He had to think of a way to get you to give him the code, but he had to be able to be sure it was the right one.

“Well I guess that just leaves the hard way. Can’t trust you until I can break you.”

He wasn’t lying, he had no intentions of going easy on you. He had started by changing your position, tying your hands on a branch that happened to be at the perfect height above your head. You knew this position left you much more vulnerable, and he took full advantage of that.

He started with his blaster, a shot to your shin, followed by asking for the code. You gave another random combination of 6 digits. He then walked away, towards the panel, he would examine it, then walk back. A shot to your forearm, followed by the same question. You gave another 6 numbers. He walked away, only to come back, this time with a knife.

He gave you a deep cut on the outside of the thigh that hadn’t been shot previously. You hadn’t been able to hold in the screamed pains you had been letting out after each infliction, which only seemed to make the man in front of you smile.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you did notice the sun beginning to set. He started to leave you alone for longer periods, which was good. You weren’t sure how many more you were going to be able to take. You were just praying that Mando would be back soon.

Even if you didn’t last much longer, you also started to worry about their resident mechanic. You kept your eye on his progress and were scared that he could actually manage to get through the door.

It had quickly become dark, the only light coming from the lights on the ship. You could tell it was also cooling down as well. You tried to ignore the shivers that were running through your body but there was no use.

“Shit!” You heard the man who had been on watch utter. “Boss! We got a problem, he’s here.”

“Fuck!” The man in charge frantically looked around trying to figure something out. You were about to let out a scream, something to warm Mando, but right as you opened your mouth, one of them shoved a cloth into your mouth.

“Not gonna happen.” He tightened it around your head, making sure you weren’t able to spit it out to warn Mando.

“Good, all we need to do is hide, when he gets here, he’ll be distracted with them, and by the time they can even try to warn him, we’ll jump him.” Their leader told them. They were quickly to gather the little they had and find themselves spots that they would go unseen.

You just prayed that Mando would catch their body signatures through his visor first. If he noticed them before he noticed you, then he would have a chance of fighting them off. If their plan went their way, and he was distracted by you, there was a chance they could overpower him.

You heard your name being shouted, you turned your head to see Mando, his focus solely on you. His helmet never left you, even as you shook your head viciously, trying to get him to look anywhere else, but he was in front of you quickly.

Mando was looking you over, you could feel the anger and tension that was radiating from him. Though at the moment all you could think about was warning him. You were trying to yell through the gag, but it stopped anything comprehensible from coming out.

“Who did this to you!?” Mando asked, a sharp edge to his voice, one that sent a shiver down your spine. He was quick to untie to gag, realizing you were trying to say something.

“Behind you!” Was all you could manage to get out as soon as the gag was undone.

He only had a moment to turn around and realize that he was faced with exactly who did this. His blaster was fired off before he even fully had time to process what was transpiring. His shot landed, though you were sad to realize it took down the least threatening, the mechanic.

He begins to go for the other four men, but one manages to kick his blaster out of his hand, he is left trying to fight all of them with just his hands. You tried to get out of your ropes again, to no avail and were left to watch in panic and he tried to fight them all off. He had been knocked to the ground. Not one, but two of the men on top of him holding him down. You watched as he went to use his flame thrower on his arm to get them off him, when the leader was quick to step down hard on his wrist, stopping his ability to get the flames anywhere that would be helpful.

You watched in panic as he thrashed around, trying to gain any leverage but he was outnumbered. The leader got the third man to take over holding his arm down. The two men on top of him shifted slightly, just enough so that their leader could bend down in front of Mando.

“It looks like you aren’t as sharp as everyone says.” He taunted. “I was expecting more of a fight, I didn’t think that you cared about anything under all that metal. But looks like all it took to take down the great Mandalorian was capturing his favorite little companion.”

“Leave them out of this!” He seethed, thrashing more at the mention of you.

“Oh, but why would I, when we had so much fun today while you were gone.” He smiled disgustingly. “Honestly surprised they are even awake with all I put them through today.”

His attention flickered to you for a moment, he was quick to notice you looked more panicked now than you had all day and he realized he might have just hit the jackpot.

“You know, I always wondered what you looked like under that tin can. I bet you are hideous, it’s not some creed that keeps that helmet on, but more that you are just so ugly no one would want to look at you.” He began to bend down towards Mando. If he had been thrashing beforehand, now he was frantic.

“Stop!!” You screamed, grabbing the leader and Mando’s attention. “Stop! I will give you the code, please, just leave him alone,”

“Is that all it takes to break you? You don’t want to know what he looks like? Afraid he will have to kill you after you know?”

“I think I have made it pretty clear today that my life is not what matters here.” You sighed, “Just leave him alone and I will give you the code.”

“Don’t!” You heard him beg you, but your heart was shattering, you refused to allow these men to break Mando of his creed. A creed that you had witnessed how seriously he took. You would not be a part of that happening.

You locked your eyes with his visor, hoping that you were meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t watch them hurt you.”

“Good.” The leader smiled, standing up over Mando. “Now no games. If the code you give me does not open that door, then I will take that helmet, kill your precious Mandalorian slowly, and make you watch. Then I will blow my way through this ship anyway and get the kid, and leave you to die. Do you understand?

“Yes. No games, just promise you won’t hurt him.” You pleaded.

“You have my word.” You knew the word of a hunter like him meant nothing, and when you noticed that Mando’s free hand was reaching slightly for a blade in the side of his pants, you realized you had a plan, one that gave Mando the time he needed to get the upper hand.

“Okay. My code is 827364.” You sighed, you gave the right number up until the last digit. The panel would light green for every correct digit, meaning that until the last moment, he would think that you were right. But you also knew he had to untie you because your bioscan would have timed out. This would hopefully allow you to give Mando some form of help, though you had minimal strength left in your body, you would try.

“Fuck.” He marched back over to you. “Don’t even think of trying anything.” He told you as he untied you from the tree. You realized just how weak you were when you nearly collapsed. You saw Mando twitch at seeing just how bad of shape you were in, but now neither of you had time to do anything about it.

“Looks like you won’t be doing anything even if you wanted to.” He smirked, practically dragging you to the ship panel. He pressed your hand to it, reading your signal. Once he was no longer in need of you, he threw you to the ground away from him.

You groaned as you hit the ground. Watching as he entered the numbers you had given him. You realized he had made a mistake when you saw a blaster that was in your reach.

You put all your effort into stretching just enough to grab it without signalling to him or the others what you were doing. You saw him tap the last number and as soon as the panel turned red you let your blaster shot go off.

The man whose foot had been holding Mando’s hand down was suddenly stumbling back, and hit the ground. Mando wasted no time, his arm coming up and the flames engulfing the two men holding him down.

They screamed in agony as they rolled off the mandalorian. He got to his feet in record time and before the leader could think to retaliate against you, a knife was plunged into his chest.

Mando marched over to him and was above him as he stumbled back into the ship. Without a word he rips the blade out and stabs it back in the other side. The knife is out of him again, this time finding a place in his stomach. Next his thigh, until finally he has enough and with a quick swipe, the man’s neck is sliced open. He tried to helplessly grab at his neck but within moments he was bleeding out on the ground.

You heard three more blaster shots before Mando was in your vision. “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”

You tried to nod, tried to stand up, but your body had given up on you. “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out. If you had only listened to him, you would have been in the ship and not put all of you in such danger.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He told you softly as he wrapped his arms gingerly under you. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“I could have gotten us all killed.” You whined at the pain as he lifted you.

“But you didn’t.” He sighed. He was trying to hold in the worry and anger that was still coursing through his veins. The pain and anger he felt seeing you tied to that tree, the last thing he was worried about had been his creed, and yet, you had. You refused to let them take away something that you didn’t even fully understand and he couldn’t help but love you a little more for that.

While that anger and worry could lead him to taking it out on you, you had disobeyed him, but you also risked your life for him and the child, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that. Instead he left all his anger to the men that were dead outside the ship.

He was as careful as he could be with you as he finally unlocked the ship and walked you up the ramp and quickly laid you on a cot so he could begin to patch you up.

“You saved us.” He adds softly as he notices you slip into sleep. He hoped you would sleep through the worst of the treatments if he was being honest, once he was sure you couldn’t hear him he added, “You saved me.”

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