#pipe bomb trap saw x

[hugesawenjoyer]

people's princess omg

[outtheoiseaux]

Entering a genuinely horrendous Saw phase🪚

[stray-kaz]

Set, Charge, Boom : a Kaz Brekker x Van Eck!reader oneshot

Summary: What he would do to get her? Anything.

Warnings: none really, except somewhere in writing this, I turned Kaz into a courting gentleman. Sorry not sorry.

You were there when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands himself, stormed into your brother’s lab like he owned the place. Wylan, however, was not there yet, likely still out in the dark playing his flute and trying to get you both enough money to eat before morning awakened you to empty stomachs once again.

You were reading in the corner when Kaz walked in, and you were quiet, but those eyes didn’t miss a thing and they flicked down to the cover of the book you held before returning to your face, noting the soot all but ground into your eyelashes.

“You must be the sister” he said dismissively, but then you rose to your feet and put the book down, not looking at him, and the sight of you was like an electric charge.

“Wylan’s out” you told him, not giving an answer. “If you want more phosphorous, I’m your best bet.”

Kaz shook his head.

“I need something with a bit more bang, actually” he said quietly. “I need a show.”

Your eyes flashed with pleasure and he clenched his fingers around the head of his cane.

Beautiful.

What?

He shook his head again, this time to clear it of fog, and did his best to focus properly on you.

“A bit more bang, huh?” you repeated, musing. “That’s more up my alley than Wylan’s.”

He watched your gaze flit over him, from his blue eyes to the slightly scuffed toes of his shoes, and back up. He swallowed hard, unaware he was doing the same to you even as he noted each physical aspect of your appearance. 

Wearing a man’s shirt cinched at the waist by a velvet sash, a jacket patched at the elbows, roughspun worker’s trousers and stolen hard wearing boots. Fingerless gloves covered your hands and your hair was cut as short as your brother’s, no doubt to ward off fleas from living and sleeping in the bottom of the Barrel.

“Brekker?”

He snapped back to attention at the sound of that name out of your mouth, his eyes hot. Surprised, you blinked, paused in the middle of reaching for a packaged substance on the counter.

“Don’t call me that” he said fiercely.

You nodded and tossed the package from one hand to the other.

“Okay then” you said. “Kaz.”

He stared at you and you stared back, both of you caught in a snare, trapped with nowhere to go until the door whined open and Wylan appeared, easing it shut with a dull look on his face. It disappeared and turned to something more like wary shock when he saw you and Kaz locked in what appeared to be a staring contest.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Kaz, do you need more phosphorous bombs?”

Wylan watched as you shook your head, barely snatching your gaze from Kaz’s to look at your twin. You smiled, and he watched, eyes wide, as it lazily unfurled over your lips.

“No, Wy, Kaz wants something with a bit more bang.”

Wylan rolled his eyes right back into his skull and dropped his backpack on the floor with a loud thud.

“Not a chance” he said firmly, eyeing you knowingly. “Phosphorous is one thing, but a bomb big enough to blow up a building is not something I’m comfortable with.”

Kaz swerved his attention to Wylan, his gaze shrewd.

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

Wylan said nothing and folded his arms over his chest, studiously ignoring your pleading eyes and outstretched hands. Kaz raised his eyebrows.

“Another tack, then” he said carefully. “When was the last time she ate?”

“Yesterday morning” you piped up, and ignored Wylan’s glare. “A poppyseed cake stolen from a vendor down the street. It took all of two minutes to eat.”

Ignoring the clenching in his chest, Kaz dipped a hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew a slim collection of kruge. He held the money out to you, a tic thrumming in his jaw when your fingers brushed his gloved ones.

“Go” he muttered. “Buy as much food as that’ll get you.”

You nodded, tucking the notes inside your shirt; Kaz glanced away from the secret flash of skin, heart pounding.

“Thank you” you said quietly, and quickly left.

He nodded sharply and turned back to Wylan, who was observing the exchange with curious eyes.

“Do we have a deal?”

Wylan blinked.

“What?”

Kaz sighed heavily.

“I feed your sister, and you by extension, and you make me whatever I want” he answered roughly.

Wylan sighed softly and nodded.

“I suppose we have a deal.”

You were late. You expected a bollocking from Kaz, but he just gave you a brief nod as you slipped in next to him, attracting the attention of both your brother and the tall, slender man in the hat who had been talking to him until you arrived. He glanced between you and Wylan, then back to you again.

“Why are there two of them?” he asked, wide eyed beneath the brim of his hat.

Kaz rolled his eyes, but before he could speak, the heartrender Inej had found for him did.

“Isn’t it obvious, silly guns?” Nina demanded, grinning impishly. “Twins. They’re both cute as a button, don’t you think?”

The young man cleared his throat with a cough and looked away. Inej caught his eye and grinned, sidling closer and beckoning him to lean down to her.

“Jesper, she is interested in Kaz, not you” she whispered in his ear.

He straightened with even wider eyes as he stared at her. Then he glanced around for Kaz and saw that he was standing closer to Wylan’s sister than he ever willingly stood to anyone else. And was he staring him down? 

As Jesper watched, you slipped a hand into your shirt and pulled out a few crumpled notes. He stared as you tucked them into Kaz’s free hand and they disappeared.

Kaz glanced down at you, surprised by the contact and the money. You shrugged.

“I had change left over” you explained. “It’s yours.”

He stared at you. Free money, and you were just giving him change like it was nothing to you?

“Why are we here?” Inej asked, finally voicing what they all wanted to know.

Kaz glanced at her, feeling strangely grateful to be brought out of the trance you kept putting him under.

“Follow me.”

You traipsed after him, careful to keep your steps well behind his cane. Wylan followed at your back, a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you mental?” he whisper-hissed in your ear. “Kaz? Why?”

You flicked him a glance.

“He’s cute” you answered.

Wylan rolled his eyes and glowered balefully.

“And he fed me” you added.

The glower faded to shame and you briefly halted on the steps to kiss his cheek.

“I love you and I do not blame you” you said softly. “But if Kaz can help, take it. Do his deals and have a full stomach, Wylan. We’ll both be better for it.”

He clasped your hand in his and you stayed linked until you reached the roof and stood at the edge to watch...something. The Ketterdam skyline was shadowy and bleak, limned by only the barest of greyish light.

Kaz and Jesper stood to either side of you and Wylan like soldiers, postures erect and shoulders straight, eyes watchful. But when the far off building exploded in a rose of flame and you snatched Kaz’s empty hand as you watched with wide eyes, he was looking at you.

You felt Wylan’s hand slide slowly out of yours and sensed him turning to face you, eyes wide and mouth agape. Reluctantly, you turned your head to look at him.

“What happened to my bomb?” he demanded loudly. “That wasn’t a safely contained explosion! That is a disaster!”

You shrugged lightly.

“I gave it a bit more bang.”

“How? You went to get food!”

“I have my ways.”

Wylan muttered something ferociously in Fjerdan that raised Nina’s eyebrows.

Meanwhile, Kaz had his heart in his throat as he gazed down at your hand still in his, warm skin pressed against cool material. The fabric gripped at you, as if it, too, didn’t want to let you go. But he did let go.

He spoke to Jesper, let go of you, and walked away.

Kaz Brekker was courting you. It sounded absurd to say it out loud, but it was the truth. In his own way, he became your benefactor and news spread quickly through the city that he had acquired another Crow. Worse gossip said he had found a pretty street rat to groom, but you trod on those rumours in the new heeled boots he bought you.

He fed you, paid you a quiet fee for bombmaking and phosphorous matches, and bought you a new wardrobe to go with the boots.

Sometimes, he sent Jesper with a ribbon bound package, and he flirted obviously with your brother as you opened it to reveal a new silk shirt, fitted trousers, and now, a dress. 

Kaz watched you with hooded blue eyes as you touched it, stroked the fine edges of the bodice and let the fabric fall between your fingers like water. You looked up at him with round eyes, and he caught a glimpse of the world in them before he glanced down at the dress you had yet to remove from the crisp cardboard box.

“Do you like it?” he asked, the rasp cut with anxiety.

You nodded and lifted the gown out of its box. It was the blue of his eyes, you noticed, with a white bodice, puff sleeves and an empire waist.

“It’s lovely, Kaz, but where am I going to go where I can wear it?”

Kaz shrugged lopsided.

“The opera?” he suggested.

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Ketterdam has an opera?” you demanded, shocked.

He had a small smile and nodded.

“It does. It’s tiny, but there is a show tonight and I wondered if you would like to attend?”

You gathered the dress to your chest, leaned up on your tiptoes and brushed your lips lightly across his cheek, a blush following in their wake.

“Yes!”

You hurried to the small bedroom at the rear of the lab and redressed quickly, smoothing the front of the dress and dragging a brush through your hair, now just touching your shoulders. You walked to face the tarnished and cracked mirror in the corner, staring at the reflection of yourself in the spotted glass. Wide eyes, flushed skin, bare arms, streamlined dress. You hardly recognised yourself from the scruffy girl you used to be.

There was a knock on the door and you whirled from the mirror to open it, discovering Kaz on the other side, somewhat shyly handing out a pair of long white soft gloves. You took them wordlessly and slipped them on, the smooth fabric sliding against your skin.

When you stepped out of the bedroom, Wylan was back and he stared at you in surprise, eyebrows lifted.

“Wow” he said, blinking owlishly. “You look beautiful, sis.”

You blushed, pleased, and looked to Kaz, who just nodded and offered you his arm. You took it, tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow.

“Don’t wait up” Kaz muttered to Wylan as you passed him.

You thought you heard your brother choke a little, but said nothing.

The small opera house was beautiful, decked out in delicate filigree and opulent seating. Kaz ignored the scandalised expressions of those regular patrons who knew who he was and never dealt with him or his kind. You, in turn, kept your head high and ignored the heated whispers behind gloved hands and unkindly laughing eyes.

“I see why you don’t usually come here” you murmured to Kaz as he walked you to your seats.

He flashed you a surprising smile and shrugged.

“I don’t usually have someone to bring” he replied. “It’s not like Jesper knows how to sit still.”

You bit back a smile and sat down, smoothing your skirt into place. Kaz eased into the seat beside you, wincing at the twinge in his leg.

The performance was breathtaking and you took in most of it perched on the far edge of your seat, swept away by the elegantly dressed women and the black clad men in half masks singing up to the very ceiling.

Kaz watched you instead and felt his palms start to sweat as he draped his gaze over your eager expression, dragged it down onto your delicate collarbones and then below, to the gentle swell of your chest. You appeared to glow in the lights from the stage above, your whole body haloed in milky gold.

Did he love you?

He blinked as the audience rose as one to its feet, you included, and applause swelled upwards, lifted to the rafters on a wave of sound. You bounced on your toes a little, thrilled to be a part of it, a different breed of explosion.

Yes.

You thought that, through the noise of the theatre, you heard Kaz saying your name. You turned to see his lips shaping it again and he reached for one of your gloved hands, gently tugging on your fingers. You hurried to kneel in front of him, one hand braced on his leg for balance; he didn’t so much as flinch.

“Do you need to leave?” you asked him, anxious you had stolen too much time and hadn’t paid enough attention to his needs. “Do you have a job to get to? I have some extra phosphorous back at the lab if you need -”

He cut you off with a cool gloved finger pressed gently to your lips. He watched your eyes widen and your dark pupils dilate. He glimpsed your eyes dart down to his lips and then back to his eyes; he was certain he looked as desperate as you did right then. 

Kaz slipped his hand down to carefully cup the side of your face, cradling as if your jaw were made of glass. Your breath caught; you had never seen him be so gentle with anyone or anything before.

He seemed to be waiting for something, a clue, a cue, a direction. You inhaled a shaky breath.

“Kaz, you can -”

And once more, you were cut off, but this time by his mouth on your own. Contrary to the rest of him, his lips were gentle and shy, barely pressing to yours.

When he pulled away, your white gloved hands were knuckle deep in his hair and your eyelids were fluttering rapidly before your eyes opened fully again.

And in them he glimpsed the world.

No pressure tag: @writingmysanity​

[todd-queen]

we won.

the bathroom trap 《i》 pipe bomb test 《x》 save as i save (spike test) 《iv》 water cube trap 《v》 pints of sacrifice 《v》 pound of flesh 《vi》 || text from saw vi

[wolveria]

The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 33

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Are you here to do what they cannot?”

AO3

The elevator came to a rolling stop, and the door parted to reveal a large tunnel ahead, chiseled out of the surrounding bedrock. Hanging fluorescents lit the way, bracketed by pipes and wires that must lead to a separate power generator and cooling systems. You were so far beneath the facility that it had to be isolated from the site’s power and water grid.

A squad of five soldiers waited once the doors parted, and they weren’t any standard security you’d ever seen. In fact, upon looking closer, you saw the Mobile Task Force logo etched into the arm bands of their uniforms.

What was the MTF doing here? Their whole purpose, their advantage, was mobilization to where they were needed, but you’d never heard of them being kept on-site before.

The Site Director offered no commentary or explanation, simply gave a nod, and the Site-20 guards handed you off to the MTFs. They were ridiculously overpowered in their tactical suits compared to your knee-length nightgown, of which did you no service in keeping you warm so deep underground.

Walking no more than five minutes, your group arrived at a massive door at least 10 meters tall, thick enough to sustain a bomb blast by the looks of it. But what drew your eye was a familiar face, already there to greet you.

“I don’t recall inviting you, Amin,” Leahy drawled. Dr. Puli stood straighter, his frown the most severe you’ve seen it yet.

“This isn’t right, Geoff. I must protest.”

“Noted.”

“When the O5 Council learns what you’re doing—”

“Who do you think authorized this project?”

Dr. Puli’s eyes widened, glancing between you and the Site Director, but his jaw clenched into a stubborn hold.

“They would never allow this.”

“It’s a shame you don’t have the clearance level to know for certain.” Leahy motioned his head down the tunnel, back the way you’d came. “Now, are you going to retreat with your tail between your legs? Or are you going to stay, because despite your weak objections, you wish to know what will happen just as much as I do.”

Dr. Puli met Leahy’s stare, the Site Director’s without any warmth behind his rimmed glasses. Your former boss lost the test of wills, stepping aside and sending you a quick glance before looking away.

Leahy scoffed, taking your arm as he pulled you forward.

“Despite being a psychologist, you’re as predictable as anyone else.”

Leahy walked to a panel and retrieved something from his pocket: a flat, rectangular object, its surface solid black but thicker than a typical keycard, and inserted in into a card reader.

“Open it.” The Site Director gave the order to a technical engineer at a console, and he worked the controls, the massive door sliding upwards at his command. Beyond was a catwalk, leading into darkness so black it seemed to be the end of the known universe.

Leahy wasted no time, pushing you forward before letting go.

“Walk.”

Your feet remained glued to the ground, your legs trembling and refusing to budge.

Leahy went to the console and pulled out what looked like a handheld microphone, the kind that belonged to CB radios. He instructed the engineer which channel to dial before he clicked the microphone on.

“049 containment team? Over.”

A small, tinny voice replied, but it was loud enough for all to hear.

“Standing by. Over.”

“Are you prepared to move the SCP into permanent containment? Over.”

“Affirmative, over.”

Leahy stared at you, not needing to say anything more than that. He had you trapped, and it disgusted you that he knew you well enough to know it would work. You wouldn’t let 049 be punished because the Site Director was a sadist, and you could only hope that if this last test killed you, Leahy would lose interest in 049. Maybe, he would move on when his shiny toy was broken, leaving 049 in peace while he found some new victim to torment.

You turned back to the black void and walked forward. Moving past the door, you stopped and half-turned when it began to slide shut behind you.

“What am I supposed to do!” you yelled to be heard over the humming gears.

“Make physical contact with the anomaly!”

“What else!”

Leahy said nothing, even though he had time before the bottom of the door touch the ground, sealing you inside with a final loud series of locks sliding into place.

Your breathing was too loud in the open space, straining to see in the pitch dark, searching so hard that you flinched when the catwalk lit beneath your feet. Walking lights lined the suspended pathway, revealing you weren’t suspended over nothingness. The bottom curve of the tunnel was roughly ten feet below you, but the ceiling was still high overhead. It didn’t bode well why the Foundation needed such a large tunnel for whatever they were keeping here.

With nothing else to do, you moved forward, guessing that Leahy had some method of monitoring your progress. The tunnel was too large to spot any cameras or other equipment, so you kept going, illuminated by the lights stretching out ahead of you, like a runway guiding your path to take flight.

If only you could.

The rock walls had vanished, though you couldn’t pinpoint when, replaced by rectangular, metallic panels curving around the tunnel, leaving you with the impression you were walking inside a giant conductor of some kind. A low humming noise came from ahead of you, and the hairs on your body stood upright.

The catwalk ended in darkness, and as you approached the last few remaining steps, lights flashed on overhead, forcing you to shield your eyes. When you lowered your hand and opened your eyes, you couldn’t understand what you were seeing. The rectangular panels of the round room were raised and aimed at the center, like an array of solar panels, but they were aimed at no sun. Lit in the middle of the room, illuminated by focused spotlights and hovering in the air, was what had to be the anomaly.

It was a writhing, shifting mass of flesh with a spherical shape, constantly moving and turning. At first, it would coalesce into something that resembled a face, though the muzzle was long and filled with teeth, and then it would disappear again into a twisting mess that hurt the mind to comprehend.

And then you realized it wasn’t shifting; the mass was turning itself inside out, over and over. The muzzle appeared again, and this time, it spoke.

“Have the apes finally found a way to end me?”

You went back a step, halfway raising your hands as if to block out the bone-jarring voice.

“Are you here to do what they cannot?”

Fighting down the bile that threatened to rise in your throat, you stared at the mass and concentrated on the features before they could disappear. A long snout, a greenish mane, and grey scales.

“682?”

The SCP rumbled an affirmation that rattled the panels on the wall.

“But… that’s not possible,” you choked. “You were labeled as neutralized after the Site-19 breach.”

682 rumbled again, this time it was closer to a threatening growl. You took another step backwards.

“I am trapped here… in a constant state of eternal agony, unable to prevent my bones from twisting and my flesh from boiling. This… is as close to neutralized as humanity can achieve.”

Even without any eyes at any given moment, the accusation of his gaze was hot on your skin.

“Though, perhaps that has changed, and my torment will be finished. Come. End it.”

You could only stare at the horrific thing that used to be 682.

“I don’t… understand.”

“What is there to not understand?”

“What did they do to you?”

Though you’d never seen 682 in person, you’d seen photos and video footage. The reptilian anomaly could change his size and composition to fit his environment, but this was something else.

682 was silent, though you could swear you heard… or felt echoes of its screams of agony, especially the longer you were in his presence.

“The humans managed to trap me within another entity,” 682 said, his words dragging out as if with reluctance. “A singularity the size of a speck, but capable of consuming my body just as quickly as I can regenerate. I do not think they meant this room to be my new cell, but per their fashion, the apes can do nothing right. I cannot die, but perhaps for the first time, I wish I could.”

The Hard-to-Destroy Reptile was no longer the menacing, humanity-hating entity he had once been, and you actually felt sorry for him. With how many times he had tried to escape, and how many lives he’d taken, it wasn’t a mystery why Leahy wanted you here, to touch the SCP and stop his healing regeneration and adaptive capabilities.

He wanted you to kill 682 permanently.

“What are you waiting for?” the reptile snarled, his teeth bared for the brief moment his muzzle appeared. “Get on with it.”

You shook your head, needing to stall for time, time to think.

“How do you know what I can do to SCPs?”

The monstrous reptile gave an offended snort.

“Even without your Site Director trotting you out like a prized hound, I know you. I would know you anywhere.”

Coincidentally, or to prove his point, one large, slitted eye gazed down on you, malice held in those yellow depths.

“You were sent to do their bidding. I make no illusions, and neither should you. Now, do it. Destroy me.”

“I…” Your mouth was dry. “…I can’t. I can’t kill you.”

682’s roar sent you scrambling backwards, the panels trembling in their positions as bits of dust drifted down from the rounded ceiling.

“Foolish, naïve child! Believing you still make your own choices because you are blind to the leash around your neck! You do not understand your own nature, your ignorance will be an instrument used at their whim. A beast set upon your masters’ enemies!”

682 writhed faster, snarling and biting at the air, his claws lashing at nothing only to disappear inside his twisted body.

“And you dare tote yourself as something better than us, absolving yourself of death even as blood stains your hands. And there will be blood, so much of it. When the leash tightens into a noose, that is when you will be the most dangerous. Your masters are not as foolish as you are. Perhaps, even now, they are building the walls of your containment.”

Your limbs wouldn’t stop shaking; you wanted to run from this horrible place, from the impossible nightmare scene in front of you, but you didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“I don’t… don’t understand. What I am, what you th-think I am. But this is… this is wrong. Cruel.”

“You cannot be cruel to a thing.”

The words were so similar to Leahy’s opinion about 049 that you didn’t doubt he’d said them to 682. You would never understand how a man who despised SCPs had risen to the rank of Site Director.

Another rumble echoed from the twisting mass, this one laden with heaviness.

“If you will not end my suffering, then get out of my sight. I have little use for something like you, clearly in the early stages of infancy. Perhaps with time you would grow to what is needed, but time… is what we both lack.”

You began to back away, your hands no longer curled next to your head but now pressed against your chest.

“I… I don’t know what to do for you,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re… sorry?”

The writhing mass twirling and focused on you, pulsing faster.

“I experience a lifetime of suffering within the span of a single moment, and you’re sorry?”

682 roared, and for a moment, his head formed out of the grotesque sphere, cohesive and baring his ancient teeth.

“Your apologies are poison! More insidious than their lies! Make your apologies to 079, and then perhaps your words will amount to more than useless noise!”

The face disappeared back into the mass, giving one last agonizing scream that followed close at your heels as you sprinted back down the catwalk. You slipped and stumbled, your hospital shoes not affording much traction against the surface, but you didn’t stop running until you reached the vaulted door. Trying to catch your breath, you hunched over and braced against your knees, your eyes burning as you alternated between gasping and retching.

They must have known you were there; the door began its arduous slide upwards, guards spilling through the open walkway, half of them aiming their guns at you, the other half moving past you to set their sights down the catwalk. Nothing had followed you, but they clearly weren’t taking any chances.

“Well?”

You raised your head, neck craning as your palms remained on your knees.

“Status report?” Leahy prompted when you didn’t answer.

You wanted to tell him where to show his status report, but instead you said, “It didn’t work.”

Leahy frowned, glancing over you back down the catwalk where you’d come. The MTF no longer had their guns raised, but they weren’t at ease by any means.

“Explain.”

You slowly straightened your spine and stared at him. Your usual mixture of hate and disgust was there, but fear swam under the surface. You wanted to believe that Leahy hadn’t meant to trap 682 in an eternal cycle of suffering, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it either. You were beginning to realize you’d underestimated his capacity for cruel violence.

“I touched him, and nothing happened.”

“The lizard still lives?”

You didn’t bother to correct him that lizards and reptiles weren’t interchangeable terms. All you said was, “Yes.”

Leahy brought up his tablet, swiping over its surface with a frown.

“Disappointing.”

Pressing your lips together, you kept at bay the pleas you wanted to make on behalf of 049, for Leahy not to punish him for your failure. But he didn’t call on 049’s containment team, nor did he make any threats. He merely nodded at the MTF soldiers, and they grabbed you by the arms and led you back down the tunnel.

You looked over your shoulder and watched as the massive door slid into place.

Next Chapter

[bringmefoxgloves]

Some v informal and probably wrong Saw X tailer analysis with photos below the cut! SPOILERS WATCH THE TRAILER FIRST (tw for flashing jumpcuts and gore of course)

Images 1 & 2: We have Billy on a tricycle!!! But we also have the woman who posed as a cured cancer patient, chained to what appears to be an anchor. Her pants and the anchor are visible in the next image, it appears she is being hung.

Image 3: John working on what appears to be a hollow bullet, maybe something like the shotgun key component of the Rack?

Images 4 & 5: One of the characters, assuming a nurse who was part of the fake procedure, made to cut off her leg (Anyone getting Lawrence vibes? Just me?) which is so helpfully marked.

Images 6, 7, 8: Man with scalpels duct taped to hands, and pipe bombs secured with barbed wire around his forearms. Clearly he survives his trap.

Image 9: Character! Who? We don't know.

Image 10: Full shot of Amanda's Pig mask!

Images 11, 12, 13: Glass tube trap we see on the poster, but also notice the wires to his wrist/fingers, which mean the broken fingers are a part of his trap. Open end to the tubes suggest something is meant to travel down the tube to his eyes.

Image 14: Bathroom jumpscare! Don't know whose shoes are those but that looks like perhaps Zep's corpse on the edge of frame?

Image 15: Police investigation board..... I think

Image 16 & 17: Billy bringing out the tools to brain surgery pt 2 trap! Glad to see a crt television.

Image 18: John hugging someone.... Perhaps Amanda?

Images 19 & 20: Woman waking up in backseat of car, smoking pouring in from vents.... Carbon Monoxide poisoning trap?

Image 21: GORE IS BACK BABYYYYYY Reminds me of Seth Baxter.....

Image 22: Close up on a random trap

Anyways those are some of the interesting images I pulled from the trailer!

[horror-corner]

Part 3 of 4!

[hugesawenjoyer]

i remembered im an artist and i can literally draw Anything i want so i drew yoshida hirofumi in the pipe bomb trap from saw x

[pimientas]

WOULD I SURVIVE THE SAW TRAP? saw X edition

Eye tube one: probably? I would turn the thing really fast.

Pipe bomb one: I feel like I would manage 1 bomb and then my brain would stop functioning from the blood loss

Bone marrow one: HEEEELL NO BROTHER.

Brain surgery one: ?????? That was so bizarre. Maybe??? Leaning towards No but if that complete fucking idiot almost did it maybe I can

Radiator one: yeah I would. Also I would go for the wrist first although the fall is gonna hurt like a bitch. At least I can sit on the floor to break my ankle. Plus I feel like after the first Radiation Wave I would drop the hammer

Last 2: depends who I'm with . First one isn't REALLY built to kill you so it's really manageable.

[myusernamechangesevery5minutes]

**SAW X SPOILERS ALERT ⚠️**

*Extra warning: some uncomfortable images from Saw… proceed at your own risk** ⚠️

How I’d have survived every trap in Saw X because I’m immortal (in reality I died in the first 5 minutes).

Eye vacuum trap 🥽 👁️ : **sigh**

I can’t lie I’d not be avoiding any mutilation here… but fuck meeee just turn the dial straight up to 5 😭😭😭 I’m not saying I wouldn’t break 1 finger then bitch about it until the time is up then die irl. But after breaking 1 finger, most people would rather go straight to 5 than feel their eyeballs leave their skull. 💀

Pipe bomb trap 💣:

Not sure if this would work as Jigsaw is always watching 👀, but avoid struggling because the timer is not actively beginning, this timer must be started by something, it is triggered when the wire attached is pulled. This may buy more time to think of other solutions. Then try to cut the duct tape off your hands with the knives and use your hands to remove the pipe bombs to avoid as much injury as possible. Or wait for Jigsaw to approach and attempt to defend yourself with the knives, then wait for help?

Bone Marrow Trap 🦴:

Fuck no did John give so little time to saw off her whole damn leg! The only way I can think to get out of this is to try using the gigilo saw on the ropes holding you in place and duck out of the way to avoid decapitation. Then save the poor guy from the brain surgery trap because he had no hope 😭. With this trap, just make sure John and Amanda are distracted. Again risky… as Jigsaw is always watching.

Brain surgery trap 🧠👹:

In terms of surviving without help, if the instruments provided can cut through the skull, it may be possible to cut through part of the trap, but this would be time consuming and not foolproof. Also to avoid putting in less grey matter, could he have put part of his skull in the dish, it may have absorbed some additional enzymes attached to the skull?

Otherwise I’d hope someone else saves me I doubt it or flirt with Amanda and hope she sets me free.

Radiation trap ☢️:

Again, hope you can make Amanda take pity on you and fall in love with you like the empath she is.

Or try breaking your thumb only, as the tool provided is small enough to do so. Then do a bit of an Eric Matthews and slide your hand free. Bit less painful and should be possible in the time limit, plus avoids smashing your ankle. If the lamp moves because you’ve failed to break your ankle chain, you can run behind the lamp to avoid it or keep moving, as it’s easier to move and take cover without a broken ankle. With hands free, could use clothing add some layer of protection on your face and buy more time 🕰️

Blood boarding trap 🩸:

There won’t be an unlimited supply of blood so being altruistic and taking turns is a survival tactic. Although, if you were paired with Cecelia on this trap, this may not be the best option.

In this case, turn your head to get more opportunity to breathe? Or tilt your head up so the blood lands on your head not directly blocking airways (this would be very uncomfortable but you might survive).

Burning gas chamber 🔥💨:

First you could try to find the source of the gas and block it with clothing or items in the room or damage it. If not, just straight up killing the other player to avoid severe injury and reach the air vent is the best bet of survival, but not a Kramer approved way to survive. Is the gun cabinet big enough for a person to fit in? You could sit in there and shut the door on yourself to keep the gas out, cover and cracks in the door with clothing, it would buy more time.

Bonus round

Scar tissue trap ⛓️:

Firstly, whatinthefuckisMarkHoffmandoinghere 😍

Secondly, there’s little chance in fighting with Hoffman to escape this trap so best bet is playing along, or playing dead. ☠️ Hard to say as we never get to see Henry’s end, but that twist had everyone in the cinema shook I couldn’t speak 😭😭😭

Alright and that’s all I got!

Disclaimer: No chance would I survive a saw trap, please do not try these at home 🤣

Would you like to see more posts like this? And if so traps from a full movie, or smaller posts about specific traps/one trap at a time.

Comment more of your ideas for survival!

Until next time… 🌀

[rubysunnday]

crashing down

Summary: When a heist goes horribly wrong, Jesper and Y/N are trapped underneath the rubble.

`A/N: looks like i’m writing for my murder children now. I have zero regrets

Jesper Fahey x platonic!reader

In hindsight, they probably shouldn’t have hung around to steal the brooch. And they probably shouldn’t have even decided to rob the place in the first instance but, hey, when someone brags about the treasures they own and tell you exactly where in their tiny, second house they were hidden, they were practically asking you to steal them.

And besides, Jesper loved a good old fashioned shoot out too much to simply run away from one. And Y/N loved her friend too much to leave him to fight on his own.

Jesper ducked behind the pillar as another bullet whizzed past his head, imbedding itself in the wall behind Y/N.

“I’m blaming you entirely, Jesper,” Y/N muttered, handing him a load pistol in exchange for his empty one. “It was your idea.”

“You’re the one who spotted the damn thing,” Jesper replied, leaning around the pillar and firing three shots, all hitting their targets. “You’re like a bloody magpie.”

“Just because I went ‘ooo, shiny item,’ doesn’t mean you have to steal it!” Y/N hissed. “Now, because of you, Kaz is probably wondering where we are and will likely murder both of us for ruining the plan.”

Something exploded from outside, the orange flames lighting up the corridor as they billowed into the sky. The men attacking them all yelled as they realised that Y/N and Jesper weren’t alone in the building. More footsteps echoed on the stairs in front of them as the rest of the guards ran outside to see what was happening. 

Jesper and Y/N shared a look. “Wylan.”

“Well, good to know that part of the plan is going to... well, plan,” Y/N replied. She looked down at the pouch of bullets she had and swore. It was empty. “Jesper,” Y/N said, hitting his leg to attract his attention, “Jesper, we’re out.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah.” Y/N threw the pouch and looked at him. “What do we do? There’s no way we’re getting out of here with them blocking the door.”

As if proving her point, the guards began shooting again. The hail of bullets pinged around them and Y/N dove into Jesper, both of them ducking down and shielding the other. The bullets stopped for a second and Jesper moved quickly, grabbing his pistols and putting them back in their holster and yanking Y/N to her feet, pulling her around the corner and towards the back of the building.

Y/N gripped Jesper’s hand tightly as they ran down the corridor and into a side room full of crates. Jesper slammed the door shut behind them and shoved a crate up against it to block anyone trying to break in.

There was a small window high up on the wall with metal bars running across it, far too small for either one of them to be able to squeeze through.

“What plan is this? Run and hide?” Y/N exclaimed as Jesper began ripping open crates.

“Yes but hiding in the room that, hopefully, has bullets,” He muttered, tossing the paper that was protecting the contents out the crate dramatically. “HA!”

Y/N turned around and saw Jesper brandishing an open box of bullets with a huge grin on his face. She felt herself smiling too, despite the life threatening situation they were currently in.

Jesper gently handed one of his treasured pistols to Y/N, his eyes staring at her intently. She gently took the handle of it and looked up at Jesper, looking into his eyes.

“I know,” she said, nodding as she moved the pistol to her other hand and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “I know.”

It was likely the next few minutes would be their last. They were outnumbered and on their own with limited gunfire. Even if by some saintforsaken chance Inej or Nina or even Matthias turned up to rescue them, they’d probably both be riddled with bullet holes before they got to them.

“No mourners,” Jesper said softly as he let go of Y/N’s hand and spun his pistol around his finger.

“No funerals,” she replied, gripping the handle of her pistol tightly.

Jesper pushed the crate blocking the door out of the way and swung open the door, pistol drawn. 

No one was waiting for them.

Y/N matched Jesper’s frown and slowly stepped out into the corridor behind him suspicious. There was a good quiet and then there was a bad quiet.

And this was a bad quiet.

“Where -”

Y/N’s question was cut off as a large explosion rocked the entire building. She reached out and grabbed Jesper’s arm as she lost her balance and Jesper steadied her as best he could. Dust and chunks of plaster rained down around them and several paintings and expensive vases smashed onto the floor.

“That wasn’t Wylan!” Y/N exclaimed as the building stopped shaking for a moment.

“Come on!” Jesper yelled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and pulling her down the corridor towards their exit. 

Something was wrong, the entire building was empty and there was no one around. Jesper and Y/N skidded around the corner and spied the door that was their exit and put on a sudden burst of speed.

The door suddenly blew in, a cloud of dust following after it. The explosion threw Jesper and Y/N back into a wall. Y/N felt her head smack the wall and suddenly everything felt odd.

She opened her eyes and saw Jesper yelling at her but couldn’t hear him. Her eyes were ringing and everything felt distorted - like she’d had too many Kerch whiskeys. Jesper pulled her to her feet and she stumbled into him, her legs wobbling and shaking and unable to support her weight. Before either one of them could hobble out the door, another explosion occurred and the entire building began to crumble down around them.

Windows smashed, beams came crashing down and pipes burst as the building collapsed in on itself.

Y/N vaguely registered Jesper wrap his arms around her and pull her down to the ground as the building buried them alive.

Kaz checked his pocket watch again. “They’re late.”

“Yes, but Jesper’s always late,” Nina replied, trying to hide her nerves. She’d been frantically looking to the street near the house every second, waiting and hoping for Y/N’s figure to come running up to them, a flustered and excited Jesper chasing after her.

“Not when he’s with Y/N,” Inej muttered, looking behind her at the building they’d escaped from.

Kaz looked down at his watch and then up at the house again. He wasn’t about to betray just how nervous and concerned he was. But it wasn’t usual for Y/N to be running late - even if Jesper did his usual thing of causing complete and utter chaos. 

Wylan was sitting on the edge of a wall, fidgeting with a dummy bomb, his leg bouncing up and down nervously.

“They’ll be fine,” Nina said, looking at Matthias. “They’ll be fine.”

As she uttered the words, an almighty explosion rocked the alleyway they had convened in. Smoke billowed up from the building Jesper and Y/N were inside as bricks, beams and glass all crashed down on top of another in a messy symphony. The walls collapsed down like a house of cards and a nearby flock of pigeons flapped away from the chaos.

The five remaining Crows stared in silence.

Kaz felt as if he might keel over. He stared at the pile of rubble, gripping his cane tightly, the beak of the crow’s head digging into his hand through his gloves. Jesper. Y/N. Both of them were under the rubble that had once been a merchant’s second home. Someone had blown them up. 

Somehow, Matthias snapped into action first, grabbing Nina’s arm and pulling her with him, towards the pile of rubble. Wylan scrambled after them, determined to find his friends.

“Kaz, come on,” Inej said softly, hovering beside him. “We need to go look for them.”

Kaz nodded once, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched it, swallowing his emotions down. He limped after the rest of his gang, his cane clicking loudly on the cobblestones, breaking the eerie, deathly silence that had descended upon the street.

Matthias and Wylan had begun removing beams and chunks of brick from the pile, trying to find a way to get inside. Kaz wanted to help, but couldn’t bring himself to be so close to anyone, so he resorted to stay out the way, watching out for any of the Stadwatch.

Nina was trying her best to locate Jesper and Y/N but the pile of rubble was muffling any sound of their heartbeats. Well, that’s what she was telling herself. She didn’t want to even think about the other reality.

Jesper groaned loudly as he suddenly awoke. His head was pounding and he was being crushed by something heavy and wide. He blinked and the world came into view again and he realised what had happened.

A large, wooden beam was lying across his chest and he was sprawled awkwardly across piles of bricks. He could move, however. The rubble had formed a small pocket around them, the beams that had supported the roof supporting a ton of rubble above them.

Jesper carefully slid out from underneath the beam, trying not to nudge it or move it incase he took the entire thing out and crushed himself to death. He somehow slid down the rubble and further into the pocket and let out a heavy exhale as he caught his breath.

He looked around and froze as he spotted the familiar sight of Y/N’s hair and jacket from underneath what was once a door.

“Y/N!” Jesper exclaimed, clambering over bricks, keeping his head down and folding in on himself as he squeezed through a gap to get to her. “Y/N?”

Y/N lay scarily still, blood trickling down the side of her head, a splintered, heavy oak door lying across her bottom half. Her arm was flung across the bricks and her skin was littered with cuts.

Jesper shoved the door off her with a grunt, his eyes running up and down her body to see if anything was broken. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. He crawled closer and grabbed her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and waiting.

For a moment, a long, painful moment, he felt nothing. His heart dropped and he genuinely felt as if he might be sick. She couldn’t be dead. She wasn’t allowed to die. She couldn’t die.

But then he felt a slight beat, followed by another and then another. It was slow, slower than it should be, but it was still going which meant Y/N was still alive.

Jesper forced himself to pause and breathe. They were trapped under a pile of rubble which could collapse at any moment. Y/N was unconscious and potentially dying which meant Jesper had to find a way out to safety and to the rest of the Crows. He glanced down at Y/N again, his fingers were still wrapped around her wrist, the feeling of her slow, sluggish pulse helping calm him down. She was still alive. 

Dust rained down on Jesper as he nudged a pile of bricks, seeking out the gap in the rubble that was letting the light in. There was a single ray of light shining through from somewhere - it was orange like the street lamps that dotted the streets of Ketterdam and its mere colour filled Jesper with a bizarre sense of hope. 

If the light could get in, then they could get out. 

He began by carefully moving bricks, stopping each time to make sure the beams keeping the worst of the rubble above them weren’t about to collapse. The broken glass cut into his hands and every movement sent sharp, searing pain through his head. 

But he kept going.

Jesper took a risk and moved a large piece of a door. Above him the beams groaned and buckled and a shower of dust rained down as bricks and rubble fell down. Jesper dove across Y/N, shielding her from the falling debris. 

Bricks and stones fell down but the beams stayed up, supporting the majority of the rubble and keeping their little pocket safe.

Jesper lifted himself of Y/N and grabbed her wrist, checking her pulse again and making sure her chest was still rising and falling. He reached out a hand and gently brushed off the dust and tiny pieces of debris on her face and sighed.

“Well, at least we’re both still alive,” Jesper muttered, trying to think of something positive. It’s what Y/N would do, she was always positive even if the situation was anything but positive. It drove Kaz insane.

“You could sound a little happier about that, Jes.”

Jesper jumped as Y/N’s voice, croaky and barely more than a whisper, broke his internal monologue of doom. She was looking up at him with the faintest hint of a smile on her pale, dust streaked face. 

“Thank the Saints,” Jesper muttered, dropping his head on to the top of Y/N’s head, his shoulders slumping. “I thought you were...”

Jesper trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Y/N, who seemed capable of reading the minds of everyone, even Kaz, grabbed his hand and squeezed it weakly.

“I feel like shit but I’m alive, Jesper,” Y/N said quietly, coughing slightly. “Now, how do we get out of here?”

Jesper looked around again, hoping the new found relief he felt at Y/N having woken up would clear his head. All he could see were wooden beams, pipes, bricks and smashed glass and no exit.

“We’re stuck, then,” Y/N said softly, noticing her friends silence. She winced as she shifted on the floor, trying to move so that she could lean against the large piece of wall behind her. Jesper noticed and came back to her side, grabbing her hand and guiding her up until she felt the wall against her back. 

“You good?” Jesper asked, his eyes full of concern, his hands clinging on to Y/N.

She nodded, her eyes shut as she felt the overwhelming wave of pain. She opened her eyes again and looked up. “If the street light is getting in,” she began turning her head with a grunt, “then there has to be a way out.”

“That’s what I thought but I can’t find a way to shift anything without risking bringing the entire building down on us.”

Y/N exhaled softly, slowly turning her head to look at the other end of the pocket they were in. They were well and truly trapped.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N frowned and turned back to face Jesper. “Why?”

“If we hadn’t gone back for that brooch and if I hadn’t -”

“Jesper.”

“ - been so determined to show off and -”

“Jesper.”

“ - we would have been at the rendezvous point in time and we wouldn’t -”

Y/N frowned as she heard the rubble shift above them. She tried to focus on the noise and her frown deepened as she realised that there were voices above them.

“Jesper, shut up a minute,” Y/N snapped, hitting him on the arm to cut off his rambling. “Listen.”

Jesper’s hurt expression at being told to be quiet quickly changed into a defensive one as he heard the rubble shifting and the indistinct sound of voices. He picked up his pistols from the ground and slowly clicked the safety off.

“Good or bad?” Y/N asked, wincing as she shifted herself onto her knees and moved behind Jesper.

“Either,” Jesper replied, his face hardening as the voices got closer. He aimed one pistol at the gap in the rubble where the sound was coming from, his other hand moving to rest on Y/N’s arm, reminding himself that she wasn’t dead, but alive.

Neither one spoke as they watched the rubble intently, bracing themselves for whoever appeared.

A head appeared in the gap and the person elegantly slid into their pocket, feet landing so silently that it could only be one person.

“Oh, Saints, Inej,” Jesper muttered, holstering his pistols and instantly relaxing. 

Y/N felt her energy and resolve disappear at the reassuring sight of Inej, all the pain and exhaustion she was feeling return. She fell to the side, barely catching herself before she smacked her head on the floor.

“Saints, Y/N,” Inej said, climbing over to her as Jesper sat Y/N up against a broken piece of concrete.

“I’m good,” she said softly, wincing. 

“And I’m a sun summoner,” Jesper replied sarcastically, disbelief written on his face at how much Y/N was playing off her injuries. 

“Can you move?” Inej asked. “It’s not far to go until you’re outside.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

She pushed herself up to her knees, gripping a wooden beam for support. The wooden beam held her weight for a moment before it collapsed to the side.

“Shit,” Jesper muttered as the entire building above them groaned loudly. 

“Go,” Inej exclaimed, guiding Y/N up and inside the gap and then shoving Jesper after her as the building came crashing down into what had been their pocket. 

Y/N kept crawling and began to panic as the darkness began to feel claustrophobic and tight and she was scared she was going to collapse in the tunnel, her vision coming and going in waves, her heart pounding.

But then someone grabbed her hand and gently pulled her out the rubble and into the open, catching her as her limbs decided to stop working, sending her crashing to the ground

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” Matthias said, holding her up against him as she clung to his jacket, her entire body shaking.

“Thank Saints,” Y/N whispered, dropping her head onto Matthias shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened at the sudden, unexpected close contact. He’d never admit it but he had a soft spot for the girl and, after a moment of surprise, gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Y/N!” Nina exclaimed, rushing over to her as Inej and Jesper emerged from within the tunnel. “Jesper, are you two alright?”

“Well, we’re alive,” Y/N replied, smiling tiredly. “Much to Jesper’s disappointment.”

“I’m not disappointed that we’re alive,” Jesper retorted.

“You sounded disappointed,” Y/N countered back. “We survive being crushed to death by an entire building and he’s disappointed.”

“Again, I wasn’t disappointed,” Jesper grumbled.

Wylan looked between Jesper and Y/N. “Are they concussed?” He asked, genuine concern for them clear on his face.

“No. Unfortunately, that’s normal Y/N and Jesper behaviour,” Kaz replied, his cane clicking on the cobbles as he walked up to them. He looked Jesper up and down and then Y/N, his eyes running over them both. 

“We’re fine, boss,” Jesper replied, sensing Kaz’s unspoken question.

“Good,” Kaz said, nodding. “Come on, we need to move we’re behind schedule.”

And with that he limped off down the street.

Y/N let out a scoff of laughter. She was still holding onto Matthias as Nina grabbed her hand softly and began healing her. “Jesper’s the reason we’re behind.”

Jesper gasped loudly, hand flying to his chest as his mouth opened in mock horror. “How dare you! I found that brooch for you!”

“Just because I see something sparkly and go ‘ooo’ doesn’t mean you have to pick it up!” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re not a magpie!”

“The gratitude I get, I swear,” Jesper muttered, stomping off purposefully after Kaz.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment and sighed softly, Nina’s magic working its way through her system. They were a band of misfits and criminals, the dregs of society, but to her they were family.

[todd-queen]

whaaaaaaaaat i have no idea what you're talking aboutttttt 🫣

haha really tho yeah it's me! I'm just shy :))

i really enjoyed all your answers tho! and thank you so much for asking me!!!

the pound of flesh trap is by far my favorite, i think i spend about 90% of my day thinking about it 😅 i love it so much because of Tanedra Howard, the woman who chops off her arm. she was the winner of 2008 Scream Queens, and, especially after watching the show, i just love her performance so much! (and the first shot of saw vi with the cockroach on her hand makes me INSANE knowing she had to put cockroaches on herself in the show to win the role)

my other very favorite is the water cube trap! the fact that scott patterson actually submerged himself under water! on countless takes! and still managed to not only act!! but still convey all the emotions underwater! AND PERFORM THE TRACHEOTOMY STUNT!!!! every time i watch it i'm in awe

i also love the pendulum trap, i don't really have a good reason for it except that i just do really love it. the behind the scenes of all the practical/sfx is also really cool!

the classroom trap with the married couple in saw iv is also one of my favorites. i've never been sure if the traps in iv were fully designed by john or hoffman, but i feel like it's one of the best examples of john's philosophy. and i love that she killed her husband and got to live!! (this reminds me too of pints of sacrifice (v), i guess i love the traps where characters live but are not fundamentally/physically unchanged!!! :D edited to add: diego's pipe bomb trap in saw x is also one of my favorites like this!)

now as for surviving a trap.... that's a pretty hard question, and i know i asked it first lol

i don't think i could survive anything from iii or vi, since you have to rely on another person's choices to determine your fate. although i'd like to say i could survive pound of flesh, but i think if it really came down to it i wouldn't be able to convince myself in time. especially if i had never heard of a jigsaw trap before, i'd think it was a sick joke!

real talk tho, i think i'd be able to survive either the razor wire trap or the furnace from saw ii. i think in both cases the victim rushed into them- Paul had 3 hours, and i think with that time i could definitely find a way out with superficial cuts, maybe even crawl so it's just digging into my hands and knees; Obi started to freak out as soon as the furnace turned on, he never even noticed the drawing on the wall. my biggest concern with the furnace would be getting out of the tight space as soon as possible! but who's to say the other people wouldn't gang up on me when i get out 🤷🏻

thank you again for asking! even though i asked you i hadn't thought about my own answers till now so this was a lot of fun :)) thank you for indulging my rambling

(also tumblr wouldn't let me edit my draft so i had to screenshot your ask!)

[dongofthewolf]

When You’re Lost in the Darkness, Look for the Light- Chapter 2

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Read chapter 1 here !

After your night with Abby you head down to the cafeteria again to grab some food, still convinced it was all a dream. It’s not until you recognize a familiar face from across the room that you realize it was real, and this time she’s not alone.

Warnings: mild violence, swearing, fluff, just a lot of gay panic tbh

The new chapter is finally here !! All the positive comments on the first one made me so happy so THANK YOU for those :))

BTW that gif of Abby... both eyes open no blink (O_O)

When you woke from your slumber you were almost positive that your encounter with Abby was merely a dream or a figment of your imagination. It was the first time since moving to the base that you hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat; nightmares filled with the echoes of clickers and that piercing sound of ammo clattering on the floor was not an uncommon occurrence. After spending those two dreadful days trapped in a bunker with nothing but a pocket knife and a small handgun, a good night's sleep was something you no longer expected. You shivered as you recalled that dark, cold, concrete room you had barricaded yourself in, awaiting your death with no food, water, or supplies of any kind. It wasn’t until you heard the crashing of pipe bombs in the above levels that you snapped out of your weakened state. The WLF had on a whim decided to clear the building you were hiding out in and saved you. Your rescue was a complete stroke of luck and you weren’t sure whether to be incredibly grateful or afraid for it.

Still groggy from your sleep, you hadn’t even realized the small piece of paper that had been slipped under your door. It was from a page in a notebook that had been ripped out, and on it was a small message in neat, military handwriting: “Had a lot of fun last night :) - A”.

“So it was real!” You thought. That absolute tank of a woman wasn’t just a product of a sleep deprived trip to the communal cafeteria; she was real and every fibre of your being hoped she had enjoyed last night as much as you did.

You neatly tucked the note into your copy of Pride and Prejudice before getting ready for the day (or more like afternoon since you had slept in). After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you slipped on your military issued combat boots and a light sweatshirt before leaving your dorm. 

It was still raining outside but luckily the WLF base wasn’t too chilly. Even when it snowed they always managed to maintain some modicum of heat, it seemed as though the wolves could always find ways around the pesky inconveniences of living in a post-apocalyptic world. You never really questioned it though and you knew better than to doubt Isaac’s methods. It’s not like you’ve actually met him or anything, but the stories that you had heard were enough to send a chill down your spine, and you knew that even if you did ask questions it’s not like anyone would answer them anyways.

Fortunately you hadn’t slept in past lunch because you were absolutely starving, so starving that even the shitty WLF base food was starting to smell like heaven. As you made your way into the cafeteria that was teeming with life, there was only one thing on your mind: devouring those damn burritos. Once you finally got some food you quickly sat down to demolish it, amazed at how so much happiness could be contained within the confines of a single bland tortilla and completely oblivious to the staring of a familiar pair of blue eyes from across the crowded room.

“Just talk to her already.” Manny said in a teasing tone.

Abby quickly snapped out of it “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”. 

Of course Abby knew what he was talking about; in your rush to completely annihilate those burritos you had failed to notice Abby sitting at a table a few feet away. Abby couldn’t explain it but her heart was racing, the same way it would if she were in combat with a hoard or some Scars. 

Manny rolled his eyes “Dude I’m not blind, you’ve been staring at her ever since she sat down. So who is she?”. He relished at the sight of Abby’s nervousness, he hadn’t seen her like this since back when she was still dating Owen.

“Huh? No hablo inglés.” Abby said sarcastically trying to get Manny off her back.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to ask her myself.” Manny started to get up when Abby kicked his shins from under the table. Manny yelped in pain “Dude! What the hell?”.

“I will literally clock you in the face, sit your ass down right now.” Abby quickly glanced around the room to make sure no one noticed Manny writhing in pain. 

Manny chuckled then smiled that classic smug grin while he gripped his definitely-bruised shins “I knew it, someone’s got a crush.”.

“God you’re annoying, I should’ve let that clicker eat you last week.” Abby said in an annoyed tone as she fell back against her chair. Abby felt a tinge of remorse for kicking Manny like that, she knew that Manny probably wouldn’t have actually walked up to you; but she couldn’t have risked it. Abby looked up and noticed Manny’s expression had changed, afraid she overstepped with that last statement Abby was just about to apologize when Manny started.

“What the fuck Abby?! Why didn’t you tell me about this girl, you know I’m the best wing-man.” Manny was suddenly very intrigued, Abby had always been very secretive when it came to her love life so Manny jumped at the opportunity to become her certified dating coach. Plus, not only did Manny have his fair share of experience with women, he also just really wanted to see Abby less lonely. After Owen and Mel started dating along with Leah and Jordan, Abby was stuck constantly third-wheeling the entire group; Manny didn’t think she minded that much, but sometimes it hurt his heart to see her all alone.

“There’s nothing to talk about Manny, we’re just friends.” Abby replied reluctantly, not completely believing her own words. It’s not like you guys were dating, but it felt like a disservice to call what you guys had a “friendship”. The word itself didn’t accurately encapsulate enough meaning for her and despite the fact she was a voracious reader, Abby just couldn’t come up with a word for what you two had.

“If you’re friends, then just go up and talk to her.”  Manny knew Abby, and he knew that she always needed a push if he wanted to get anything out of her.

“I can’t… I just can’t. I’m not like you, okay?” Abby was conflicted, waves of doubt started to roll in the more she thought about it. She didn’t want to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t want to talk to her; that maybe you were just being nice last night and didn’t actually like her, or maybe even that you saw her when you came in and decided to ignore her on purpose. 

Obviously Abby was freaking out for no reason, but those small anxious bits of uncertainty that crept in from the back of her mind made her shield of confidence feel tenuous and weak; something she despised.

Manny knew what Abby meant but being the smug little shit he is, he wanted to hear her say it out loud “What do you mean?”.

Abby sighed, “Don’t make me say it.”.

“No, no I really want to hear it.” Manny smiled that famous shit-eating grin, the one he used whenever Abby had to admit he was right.

Abby realized he wasn’t letting go of this “Ugh you know, you can… talk to people.”. Abby could tell by Manny’s face that he wasn’t satisfied with her answer, so not wanting to risk the possibility that he’ll stand up again Abby gave him a look of defeat “and I guess you’re charming or whatever.”.

“Ah! Música para mis oídos.” Manny smiled proudly, hearing Abby compliment him was almost as rare as seeing her without that signature braid. Just as Manny was getting ready to haul Abby’s ass to your table he looked over and realized that you had disappeared, it wasn’t until Abby kicked his shins again that he realized you were standing right there.

You were elbow deep in your third burrito before your dumbass realized that Abby was sitting a couple tables across from yours. “Shit!” You thought, how long had she been sitting there? Did she notice you? No, probably not… unless, what if she was so disgusted by you huffing down those burritos that she ignored you? Ugh! How could you not have noticed her?

You calmly set your burrito down, wiping your face and praying to God there wasn’t anything stuck in your teeth. You figured that Abby probably hadn’t noticed you so you decided to just bite the bullet and talk to her. As you stood up from your seat to make your way over to her table, you quietly whispered to yourself “Come on y/n, don’t be a pussy.”.

“Hey Abby.” She was sitting with a man who you assumed was the friend that she had transferred here with, she mentioned his name last night but you couldn’t place it. He suddenly jerked around to face you with a calm smile on his face, his rugged features and charming personality now making it clear as to why Abby complained about being kicked out of her own room so many nights. Even though you weren’t attracted to him, you understood what all the fuss was about.

“Hey Y/N, I didn’t even see you there.” As soon as the words came out Abby shot Manny a look, the kind of look that meant “don’t say a fucking word.”. However, of course Manny being… well Manny, he grinned and raised his hand to shake yours.

“I’m Manny.” His smile was warm and welcoming as he shook your hand “Please, sit down sit down. Tell me all about yourself.”.

You took a seat next to Abby, your knees just barely grazing each other due to the shortage of space at the table. Even though it was such a small form of contact, you couldn’t help but feel like there was an electric charge connecting you together. You wondered if she even noticed the gesture, if Abby could hear your heart daring to beat out of your chest; if she noticed that small gap between your hands on the table, or if she even noticed the small clandestine looks you were sending her the whole time.

Abby froze stiff as a board when you sat down next to her, and she did her best to maintain her composure when she felt your knee graze hers from beneath the table. This was the closest you two had been and now she could really see the details of your face and your actions; how you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear whenever you were nervous, or how you snorted when Manny thought “Little Women” was just about really tiny people. She noticed how bright your smile was, how it was the kind of smile that could instantly light up an entire room, and she was astonished because Abby finally understood the real meaning of that one Firefly quote about “looking for the light”. Abby realized that no matter what, she would follow you to the ends of the Earth. You were this bright and unexpected light that suddenly entered her life, you weakened her defences and made her feel like a ball of putty, and while one part of her detested that feeling, another part of her never wanted to part with it.

You explained to them how you had been rescued by the WLF and how you were a pretty skilled mechanic. You even told them about how although you loved your job, you desperately wanted to work in the library, because other than the fact that you wouldn’t be covered in grease at the end of every day, you’d also be surrounded by things you love. 

The two told you about the “Salt Lake Crew” and how they were essentially Isaac’s top soldiers. It was a fact that left you with about a hundred questions, but you figured it wasn’t the right time to bring up their boss so you tried your best to brush it off. The three of you sat at that table talking for what felt like forever before the cafeteria staff kicked you guys out because they had to clean up. 

As they both walked you to your room you were so incredibly excited. You had spent so many months at this boring outpost, spending most of your time reading or crying. Then Abby happened; she came into your life and suddenly you weren’t alone anymore. You were so insanely grateful for this newfound happiness that you just wanted to leap into those insanely strong arms. 

Just as the two were about to leave Abby grabbed your hand and leaned down to your height so she could quietly talk to you, “Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?”.

You were so dumbfounded by her hand holding yours that you nearly passed out, you tried to form words but all you could manage was a small nod.

Abby smiled as she stood up and looked to Manny “Hey, you can go ahead I’ll catch up. I just need to talk to Y/N for a quick sec.”. 

Manny immediately got the signal and grinned so wide Abby thought his face would freeze like that, Abby knew she was never going to hear the end of this, but she couldn’t really be bothered to care with your hand in hers.

Then Manny was gone, and it was just you and Abby. Her hand was still holding yours and you couldn’t help but notice all the details of them; how she had these small calluses on the palms of her hands, formed from years of wielding firearms and lifting weights. You realized how much damage she could do with them—how much damage she had done with them—but instead she stood there softly cradling your hand in hers, just lightly squeezing it before she looked at you with those same pools of blue you wanted desperately to drown in.

“Hey so I know we kind of just met last night, but I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you and…” Abby paused to contemplate her words before starting again “and I was wondering if we could do this more often. I’m doing some work for Isaac tomorrow but I’ll be back later if you wanted to come by and watch a movie or something?”.

“Holy shit!” You thought “Did Abby just ask me out on a date?”. You couldn’t believe it, there was no way this absolutely fucking perfect girl just asked you on a date. You almost wanted to pinch yourself because nothing about this felt real, it wasn’t until you snapped back to reality that you realized you had been staring at Abby in absolute silence while she stood there waiting for an answer.

You quickly answered “Absolutely, I would love to come over and watch a movie.” Your heart was pounding dangerously fast against your ribcage and your face was completely flushed as you gave her a reassuring smile.

Abby sighed with relief and lightly squeezed your hand “Great! I’m in the room across from the gym, does eight o-clock work?”. Abby felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, at first when Y/N didn’t say anything, she was afraid she had misread the situation and crossed the line.

“I’ll see you then.” As you started heading back to your room, you suddenly remembered something “Hey Abby!” She looked back with curiosity as you shot her a small smirk “Thanks for the note.”. 

Abby smiled shyly “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”

—

Read the next chapter here

[capricornus-rex]

Stronger Than Blood (8)

Chapter 8: Bound by Fate or by Blood? | Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: Meeting another Force-sensitive was one thing, but having them related to one of the most formidable known duelers was a whole other story to tell. While being stranded in another planet after barely escaping the Haxion Brood, Cal crosses paths with someone who’s at a crossroads with their own identity and lineage.

Also tagging @ayamenimthiriel​

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Force-User! Reader, Force-Sensitive Reader, Sith-Related! Reader

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

8 of ?

Apparently, the only reinforcement they needed was the Purge Trooper. His kind was specifically made for Jedi—but you were an exception.

“You’re no Jedi,” the trooper points out, brandishing his twin batons. He points one at you. “But the Emperor says you’re a prize!”

Your weapon’s caliber is a bar below his batons, but that didn’t falter your will. Positioning yourself in a defensive stance with your techstaff in front of you, buckling your knees and keeping your grip firm.

“Ha! Don’t make me laugh, kid!” the Purge Trooper sniggered.

“I wasn’t trying to!”

Slightly impressed by your determination, he lunged towards you in a deadly nimbleness, you barely afforded a second to react. Deflecting him in the last minute resulted in a flimsy block that you leaned backwards, accepting all his weight onto you. With little strength you could gather, you pushed him away so you could reset your stance.

Finally, you were able to trade strikes with this black-armored Purge Trooper; though, as much as you hate to admit it, he was more skilled than you were. Granted, he’s probably received top-notch quality his whole life, while you only survived and learned through street and cantina brawls.

I can’t shake him… He’s trying to tire me out!

Meanwhile, the Stormtroopers who received the radio call saying that you were spotted in the caves was a red herring. Cal almost wondered if this was an elaborate trap to separate the two of you. Now he’s stuck with facing off the Stormtroopers stationed there before getting to you.

The comms gauntlet of the Stormtrooper he just downed beeped, in a miraculous convenience, and the voice of another trooper fizzled through the reception.

“Insurgent found in the village. Purge Trooper RF-4756 already engaging her.” The voice calmly reported, indicating that he’s only standing by and watching the fight ensue.

“Gotcha!” Cal exclaimed under his breath and headed for the elevator that leads out to closest point to the village.

Unfortunately, he was hindered by the creatures and troopers—who were on high alert—who spotted him in the caves. He tried to make quick work of them, just so he wouldn’t have the stress of being tailed by enemies—especially troopers—when they’re headed to one common destination. But the Stormtroopers accompanied by a single, lance-wielding Purge Trooper, held Cal back from reaching you.

In his burst of adrenaline, he struck his fist against the soil, sending off an energy wave of Force against his surrounding enemies and disorienting them. Before they could stand up, Cal cut them down and rushed for the elevator, avoiding the Jotaz and the other creatures that stood in his way to the lift.

“I don’t have time for this!” he grumbled, evading the charging Phillak and immediately cut down the Scazz as he ran past it.

The elevator hummed and rumbled when Cal’s boot weighted against the pressure plate. The lift was slow, but he kept jostling himself, antsy and impatient—it took a single beep from BD-1, apparently asking if you could be alright, to calm him down.

“I hope she is,”

The Purge Trooper wasn’t having any of it today, although he made it seem like a game. You scarcely made a dent on him, he continuously deflected your strikes and forcefully hammered his batons against both ends of your staff. For a body so slender, the amount of strength he puts on his attacks was staggering.

“Good night!” he snarled and tossed out a stasis bomb to your way.

You were too late to remove yourself out of its blast radius. You’re caught in the net—the static current numbed your muscles as they wrapped around your calves like vines until it crawled all the way up to your body, further halting the movement of your torso and then arms and eventually your neck.

You watched your opponent walk over the static field unaffected, he pommeled you across the cheekbone, knocking you out while you’re immobilized. He nudged your stomach with the tip of his boot. Your fingers were slightly twitching, but he saw you’re out cold. He presses a single button on his gauntlet.

“I’ve apprehended the Emperor’s prize,” he reported. “Requesting transport shuttle.”

“Confirmed, RF-4756. Please indicate area coordinates.”

A transport shuttle shortly arrived to the planet, hovering by the cliffside of the village’s edge. The Purge Trooper scooped you up, carrying you like a sack. From the distance, Cal heard the engine of a ship from his current location; he followed the general direction of the gray ship he spotted. He immediately knew where it’s headed, but he arrived too little too late.

“NO!! [Y/N]!!”

“Jedi! Over there!”

A row of Stormtroopers barred him again. Cal’s finding it quite vexing to find enemies standing in his way when things are most dire. He spotted the transport by the cliff, he saw your unconscious body carried over the Purge Trooper’s shoulders as he enters the ship.

“NO!!”

He quickly slowed down the windmill to cross over the gap, but the transport ship was already hovering away from the edge, the gap became more and more impassable as it stretched. Cal watched the ship gain altitude, he immediately went through the shortcut leading back to the Mantis on the landing pad.

“Cere!” he called through the commlink. “They’ve taken [y/n]! Do you see the transport ship?!”

“Yes, I see it!” Cere replied, her barking orders bled through Cal’s commlink. “Captain, prepare for take off! I’ll see if I can make a backdoor to their communications. Hurry back!”

“Already am!”

Meanwhile, in the ship where you’re held captive, the Purge Trooper ordered the pilots to set a course for Mustafar.

“I’m getting the payday of a lifetime!” the Purge Trooper boasted.

“Is it the Jedi?” one of the pilots dared asking.

“No, it’s the other one,”

The two pilots exchanged glances, despite their nearly-opaque helmet visors, each one could immediately tell which “other one” the trooper was referring to. Neither of them said a word, as much as they wanted to, and charted the course to the volcanic planet.

The Purge Trooper RF-4756, overly proud of himself and excited to show off his achievement, slumped on the other chair behind the pilot’s seat. Not bothering to understand what flashing symbols meant on the secondary dashboard screens, he rested his feet over them, leaned back against the seat—quite far enough to make the backrest bend—and cushioned his head with his hands.

——————————————————–

It has probably been hours since you were out cold.

You wake up to find yourself in a prison cell, you’re settled on a bed; not exactly queen-sized as you had hoped—much to your disappointment—it was only a big slab of duraplast painted black, big enough to fit an adult individual. Quite spacious for a single prisoner, though.

“One star for the room quality,” you grumbled sarcastically as you massaged your calves, the static still felt fresh hours later.

You surveyed the entire room—black metal walls with panels for the light to pass through, a sturdy-looking blast door, and of course, the miserable excuse of a bed.

There were no cuffs around your ankles or wrists, expecting that you were, but you supposed that they put all of their faith with the architecture of this cell. The hums that spoke through the wall was stale and inorganic, metal clattered from the water that dripped from the open pipes was so rhythmic that it helped you relax. You decided to stand and walk off the remaining numbness in your legs, you slowly stalked towards the door—feeling the presence of the pair of guards standing in the other side.

You slowly angled your head so your ear faces the door and eavesdropped on the banter borne of their boredom in the silence of the cell block.

“So, let me get this straight: this prisoner can use the Force… but isn’t a Jedi? I thought only Jedi can do that kind of stuff!”

“Yeah well, I don’t understand it either—and frankly, I don’t plan to. I heard from the report she didn’t have their kind of weapon, she only used a staff of some sort—looks hand-made.”

“But for someone that isn’t Jedi, the price on her head is kinda steep, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah, I heard that it’s way above the pay grade. I’m guessing the pay grade of an admiral times five,”

“Wha—!? That IS higher than anybody’s rates! That’s ridiculous! What’s so special about her, anyway?”

The indifferent Stormtrooper incoherently grumbled, you wagered he simply shrugged his shoulders just for this conversation to end. Their banter may be short, but you think you’ve known enough. Shortly after, you felt another presence enter the prison block—it was heavy and foreboding—you had secondhand anxiety from the Stormtroopers once they’re in the presence of the third one.

“L-Lord Vader!” the Stormtrooper, the perky and nonchalant one, shuddered upon addressing his boss.

You backed away from the door, you felt your stomach drop to your feet when the door opened and revealed a lumbering beast of an entity clad in full black armor.

The eyes of his helmet were like the sockets of an empty skull, gleaming a blood-red tinge that afflicted indescribable horror to those who laid eyes on him.

Your hands trembled uncontrollably, not even clenching your fists helped in stopping the shaking; your heart rapidly pounded under sheer stress. As much as you badly wanted to, you cannot take your eyes off of this towering man. You clumsily fell back to the slab, the strength on your feet now unfound as he entered your cell. The gloss over the curve of his helmet shone under the light panels of the room.

“So, you are the prize the Emperor so badly desired,” the baritone that rumbled through Darth Vader’s helmet was frightening enough to get your tongue.

“Dooku’s way overdue, I shouldn’t be of any value to your master anymore!” your voice shuddered as you spat back.

Vader tilted his head upon the mention of that name. He thought he had buried the memory of the name and its owner within the deep recesses of his mind. However, it was neither a long time ago nor was it recent, but the familiarity serves.

“I don’t think so,” Lord Vader hummed. “When your uncle failed to deliver, the Emperor was most displeased with his efficiency—or lack thereof. You are still his blood, we will sharpen those invaluable powers of yours.”

“DO NOT ASSOCIATE ME WITH HIM!! I AM OF NOT OF HIS BLOOD!!!”

The instinctive anger gave you sudden burst of strength to stand up, protesting against Darth Vader’s statement of your lineage. He felt the wave of energy nudge his balance, but he held ground. Rather than be intimidated, he was impressed at how you went from a shying violet to a vessel flaring with rage.

“Yes,” he purred. “Strong are you with the Dark Side. Your hate and anger fuels you, it makes you more powerful than your weak, old man of an uncle could ever be.”

“He killed my mother…” the words involuntarily went past your lips. From that, Darth Vader understood the root of the pent-up, impulsive wrath that claws its way out of your system. “You’ll never get anything out of me!”

“We shall see.”

Not needing a response, he turned tail and you watched him exit your cell; the billowing of his cape almost reminded you of Count Dooku—the way he marched away from your house upon the demand of your mother. You felt yourself melting to the floor, you couldn’t believe that you had the gall to talk back to such a man of power. You weakly crawled back onto the slab, curled into a fetal position and struggled to rest and calm down—your hope and optimism fluctuating.

He probably hates me now… you sulked in your mind, drawing invisible lines on the slab as you tried to rest.

“No one’s coming… I’m going to die here,” you resigned with a dejected sigh.

You searched for the necklace she had given you during her final moments. You fished out the pendant under your shirt, gazing at the tiny cracks that it’s gotten over time, the gem had already chipped as well. Your thumb ran across the face of the jewel, leaving a blurred smear of your thumbmark over its surface.

“Am I going to see you now, Mom?” you murmured and nuzzled it to your cheek as you closed your hopeless eyes.

Little did you know that Cal and the crew were on their way to Mustafar, after struggling to tail the transport ship that carried you out of Zeffo and splicing their comms at a safe distance. Cere managed to hack through their communications and eavesdrop on the passengers’ banter.

Greez expressively objected the idea, not because he didn’t want to rescue you, but because being in the proximity of Imperials in a foreboding backdrop comprised of a black castle over a river of lava wasn’t exactly his ideal place. Nevertheless, he docked the Mantis close by the castle; with the help of Cere’s expert splicing, she had cloaked the ship with an Imperial signature so they stay incognito under the scanners for as long as she can keep it that way.

“I’ll bust out [y/n] and we’re out of here,”

“Keep your line open then,” Cere advised.

“Always,”

Cal stepped out of the Mantis and searched for an entrance into the narrow pyramid. Perhaps the only way through were the exterior ventilation shafts. After tearing out the grate, he crawled through the vent and followed his instincts, when he got to the point where he can stand up from the crawlspace, he cautiously tiptoed over the grates that served as his floor. He held his breath throughout the ordeal, careful not to make a sound and alert the clueless Stormtroopers beneath his boots, he strained his eyes through the holes of the grate—watching the enemy and his step at the same time. When he reached the end of the vent, he carefully undid the clamps of the vent door.

“Oh, thank the Force,” he sighed with overwhelming relief when he discovered that the end of the tunnel was an empty corridor.

He daintily refitted the grate back to the wall. He prowled through the corridor, hugging the wall in case he comes in the way of Stormtroopers patrolling the area. Cal kept worrying over how you’re holding up right now, where you are, or what they’re doing to you; he continued on while retaining his caution and stealth.

“Cal, are you there?”

“Yeah, Cere, just got myself into the fortress itself,”

“I managed to fish out the coordinates of their prison block, I’m sending it to you now,”

BD-1’s tiny satellite popped out of its designated hatch on his head, receiving Cere’s info that she’s sending from the Mantis; apparently, she had access to certain databases while retaining an Imperial radar signature. When the upload was complete, BD-1 promptly flashed the holomap into the space of the nook he and Cal are hiding in.

“The wonders of Cere,” Cal chuckled to himself as he glanced at the map. “Okay, that ought to be the cell block. Come on, let’s go get her.”

“Booo-woo!!”

Following the map, Cal stalked through the corridors, avoiding the areas where the count of Stormtrooper is dense and avoiding the need to draw out his lightsaber, as it would raise the castle on high alert, and the owner—which he could safely guess is more powerful than an Inquisitor—would send swarm upon swarm of Stormtroopers in his way.

He found the lobby of the prison block, but the bridge was a computer-operated type, so BD-1 did his magic on slicing it with his scomp link. In the process, the little droid stole data of a report that you were scheduled to be brought to an Imperial torture chair. After slicing the computer, he relayed the data to Cal.

“They’re gonna make her into one of them…” Cal mumbled. “We can’t let that happen!”

“Trill, beee! Woop-boo!”

“That’s very brave of you, BD-1!”

The boy and the bot marched over the bridge once it’s connected both platforms. In the second foyer where the door that actually leads the prison itself, Cal spotted your things sitting over the top of the computer terminal, obviously confiscated upon your incarceration. He swiped them and examined your staff, apparently none of the Stormtroopers have figured out how your weapon works, much to their carelessness, they simply left it partially retracted; but not for him—who’s lived his life over scrapping and making handiworks like these in his spare time back in Bracca.

Recalling how you used the weapon in Nalima, he searched for the buttons that triggered the mechanism to unfold and then retract the staff’s heads on both sides. It worked. He clipped it next his saber hanging by his belt and slung over your small bag across his chest.

The wide blast door hissed open, revealing the cell block’s interior. There were floors upon floors of cells, each tier was guarded by two or three Stormtroopers. On ground level, at its center, was the main control terminal; deactivating that would cause a domino effect of opening all the cell doors at once. There is only one problem: the Stormtroopers.

“Huh? I-It’s the Jedi!”

One hand signal from the commander with the red pauldron and all Stormtroopers aimed at the redheaded Jedi standing at the door. Igniting his dual-ended sabers, Cal deflected and returned every single ballistic rod of plasma fired at him. When he had cut down their numbers into a half at a staggering pace, the remaining Stormtroopers had already ordered the alarm.

“That’s not good!” Cal exclaimed.

He finished off the remaining Stormtroopers and ran towards the main terminal. Knowing that he couldn’t undo the alarm, he had to find you fast.

In your cell, your head jerked up when red light pooled around your entire cell, the blaring alarm fully woke you up while attempting to regain your energy while locked up. You didn’t understand why the alarm was off, you peeked through the window of the door—which was only a rectangle enough for your eyes to fit—and saw hordes of Stormtroopers spilling from both sides.

You didn’t understand what’s happening, until you heard the Stormtroopers’ dying groans as you heard a familiar noise. You sat up from your slab bed and watched the door whizz open, only this time, it was Cal standing at the other side.

“Cal?”

“Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

There was obviously no time for questions. Both of you have to move fast.

“Oh, by the way,” he unbuckled your staff from his belt and tossed it to you. “You’re gonna need this!”

It felt great to have your beloved techstaff in your hands again. You drew it to its full length, still in mint condition, a proud smile curled along the line of your lips. You sorely missed it.

You followed Cal out of your cell. He took the lead and you stayed close.