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H.S. Imagines/Series  Writer❤//⚠steal my imagines and you'll be blocked🚨

Part Eight-
The drugs they'd injected into me put me under almost immediately, and sent me into a dreamless and hazy sleep. As deep as my slumber was, I was still able to hear the soft hum of voices around me. "Solder Styles-yes she's fine, the medicine's doing its work perfectly." A few hours later I heard again, "We've dressed her wounds and added a new coat of salve onto them. Yes they're healing nicely, the worst she'll have is a ring of scar that will fade with time." Darkness smothered me before I could hear the response he made.
When I woke god knows how long later, I turned my head to the side and was met with a splash of color against the hospital backdrop. He's left flowers. A mixture of roses and small white buds I'd seen husbands gather in the field over and send to their wives. The sentiment made me smile, then wince a moment later when I tried to reach for them and strained my fingers against my bandaged wrist. "Don't," My head snapped to the bottom of the bed where a figure stood, in army uniform and a fresh shave. "Harry," I began, grinning up at him as he took the twitch of my lips as an invitation to walk around the side of my bed to come to a stop next to me. He knelt down, careful to avoid the limp arms at my sides, and brushed a finger along my cheekbone. "I think you have a secret admirer." He remarked, his sea-foam shaded eyes moving from the bouquet of flowers to me. I smiled. "Probably one of your men. I saw him giving me the eyes. What was his name? I'd like to thank him." "I'll send him in." We shared a chuckle, and despite my injuries I placed two fingers-the only movement I could manage now that the adrenaline had brought back the pain-onto his own. "Why do you keep coming back? You're meant to be elsewhere I imagine." I noted, watching as he frowned and took my hand softly in his. "Is there a reason I shouldn't make sure you're alright? To not worry?" He countered, the corners of his mouth quirking into a pursed line. "No it's just..I know as a soldier you'd feel responsible for this, making sure the one you rescued is safe and secure. I just didn't think you'd go this far." I shrugged, ignoring the soreness that seared through me

Part Seven-
Harry led the three of us as we traversed through the first line of tents into camp. Immediately people rushed to him, engulfing us in towering men and women posing a question per second. I at first didn't mind it, having had no qualms being in a crowd this size. But this..the magnitude, the bodies heavily armed with guns hovering around me, eyes turning their attention to ME, it was enough to shorten my breaths into near pants. And Harry was there, wrapping his hand around mine and rubbing a light circle on the back of my hand and along my knuckles. I didn't want to admit it helped..but it gave me something to focus on besides the troops we were weaving through towards a tent I couldn't see the name of with all the heads in the way. As if he'd read my mind, or maybe just my furrowed brows as I stood on the souls of my feet, he explained, "Infirmary," I looked over at him. "Can't I just-" "You're bleeding. I'd rather you get checked out before anything else." He had a point, but it didn't stop me from pursing my lips in hesitation. I'd rather see his mission, what he'd set out to do, accomplished before seeing to my needs. "As a favor, please." He added, and led me the rest of the way to the tent where he brought me to a private nurse and waited with me the entire time. Nothing serious, just a balm was applied to my wrists and ankles to bring down the red welts that the cuffs had made. When I looked over at Harry, though despite my overall wellness, he was unable to hide the stiffness with which he regarded the limb wounds. #Harry #styles #harrystyles #husbandstyles94 #imagine #1dimagines #onedirectionimagines #harrystylesimagines #niallhoran #louistomlinson #liampayne #onedirection #harrystylespreferences #1dfanfiction #harrystylesfanfics

Part Six-
My hands were on the brink of shaking when I finished washing him up, it was a miracle I was able to keep them steady for as long as I did. Disposing of the bloodstained rag, I sat in front of the river and ran my hands through the chilling rush of water. "How long were you down there?" He asked from his spot behind me. "Long enough" I answered, pushing down the memories that resurfaced at the mention of my imprisonment. "I'm sorry-I don't mean to press you it's just..I've been trained since I was eighteen to survive in situations like that. Survive, not function right afterwards. You're incredibly brave is all I'm trying to say." I turned to look at him. His voice was all rough edges and deep rasps the way he babbled like that. Back leaning against the rock now, fingers drumming on his legs as he braced his free hand on his thigh, he actually held an expression of-nervousness? I wasn't imagining it, he really did look uncertain in his actions. To take his mind off what had just happened, between us as well as the fortress we had escaped from, I said, "You know, you rescued me like a knight from a tower and I don't even know your name." A chuckle of a breath breezed past his lips. "You can call me Styles. It's my army name." He said. "And what's your first name?" I asked as I made my way to crouch in the spot just before where he lounged. His eyes met mine, piercing and green as emeralds. "We don't use our first names, miss." He explained, lips quirking up into the hint of a smile. "No, but knights do. There's Lancelot of the round table, and a number of them in William Shakespeare's works-" He chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that stopped me from speaking and brought a blush surging to my cheeks. I only hoped in the fading light that he couldn't distinguish it from the rest of our surroundings. "Harry," He said at last. "My first name's Harry." Harry. I tried to name out, then realized I had done it aloud, and clamped my lips shut, another powerful wave of color blooming on my face; there was no mistaking it this time, not with the way he smirked at me. "Sir," one of his men said as he approached us. "It's nearly time for us to get moving. We don't want

Part 5-
I barreled through the guards blocking me from the man she had pointed out that had the documents. And sure enough, there he was trying to hide them from me as I approached. Finishing my tumble with the last guard in my path, I knocked the man down, rolling with him a few feet down the hall, each of us grappling for the documents he held in an iron fist. In another roll, he managed to get an arm around my neck, squeezing me to him in a choke hold cutting off my breathing. Fingers splaying out in front of me, I had the barest thought of reaching for my holstered gun at my side. At first my fingers were too sweaty to get ahold of it, but a grunted stretch of my arm had my fingers closing around the hilt-and bringing the butt of the handgun into the mans eye. Blood squirted out, raining on myself and parts of the documents, but I was gone in a flash before he could realize what'd I'd done. Looking down both ends of the hall, I saw my path was blocked by running guards, all heavily armed and shouting colorfully at me. My eyes found the window. What floor was I on? Did it matter? Not when this was my one chance of getting out of here with these documents. Backing up into the opposite wall, I took in a breath, said my prayers, and hoped to god there was a bush down there-and leapt through the glass. By the time the guards were on me, I was already sailing through empty space, down down down to the rapidly rising greenery of the world below.
When I opened my eyes, I had just enough time to register a candle being thrown at my head, and ducked with the hilt stabbing into the ground where my head had been. Grinning to myself, I gave a mock bow to the shouting guards above and threw myself into the cover of the trees before they could get the wit to follow. I wasn't worried about finding my men, they knew the rendezvous location we had made should anything like this exact situation happen, and wasn't surprised to see them at the grove of trees a mile out. What did surprise me was the female with the group, it took me a second to realize it was the girl I had rescued before. Man I really needed to go to a strip joint or something if the sight of a girl gave me

Part 4-
We bolted up the stairs, my heart pounding in time with my breathing. "Which way-" "This one. We'll take this to the hall where I left my men" He tore down the hall, me stumbling clumsily after him. His eyes looked sideways at me, his lips pursing as if he were holding something back. "You want to pick me up don't you?" I said. "It might help us get out of here faster." He muttered as we streamed past a series of opening doors, guards looking after us with bewildered expressions. I suppose they never thought enemy forces would ever make it into their fortress. That stunned look lasted only momentarily though, and soon several boots were pounding into the wooden floor behind us as we tore down the hall. Without pausing-or even faltering, to my surprise-he swept me up off the floor and over a shoulder, giving me a lovely view of the shouting soldiers on our trail. "There they are," His breathing was even, if not a tad strained with the speed we were going and the weight on his shoulder. I craned my neck and saw two men standing on hot feet a few yards away where two halls merged into one. "Did you get the information back?" He asked as we intersected and started running alongside one another. "No sir," one of them said, turning his eyes up to meet mine. "I'm guessing she's not the one with the documents and we're taking her captive till she gives them back?" He asked. "No, the opposite. They had her. She's one of our own. This turned into a rescue mission a few minutes ago." He explained as we passed a room full of celebrating Ferdan's. I locked eyes with someone-the man who had found me and locked me up, the general. He called out orders, pointing at the door before starting into a run after us. "Him! I saw the files in his hand before-" Before he beat me senseless in front of his sneering footman. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. My soldier seemed to understand what I couldn't get out, and passed me off to his friend, our eyes meeting before he sped back in the other direction. "Wait! Where's he going?" "To get the documents. We can't leave without them. They're too important." The man running beside me explained. "But he-" "Is the most equipped

Part 3-
My eyes flew open at the sound of something slamming into my cell wall, shaking the bars with enough force to send my heart jumping. "Who's there?" I asked, fighting to keep the shakiness from my voice. In the outline of the light cast down from the hall above, I saw the figure turn its head, adjust its body so that it was looking straight at me. "If you're going to punish me again, just get it over with, I don't care how drunk you are." Because that's what this was. An impaired soldier looking to get a few swings at the infamous bitch they managed to catch and lock away down here. The voice that spoke back surprised me, having the accent of someone not of the Ferdans, but my own people. "I'm not-you're trapped down here?" "What do you think the bars are for?" I didn't mean to say it, especially not to a possible ally in this hell, the words just flew out before I could stop myself. A soft chuckle rumbled from the other side of the bars, followed by the sound of moving footsteps and metal groaning. "My mistake. Could you move back please?" He asked in an impossibly polite voice. "Why?" "Because I'm going to apply pressure to these metal poles, and I don't think you want to be too close when they fall off their hinges." He explained, and a moment later she had only the briefest chance to scramble back before a straw crowbar was entered between the bars and bent. A few tries later-and a few foul strings of curses from his mouth-had a single pole bending with enough room for her to slip through. "Come on. I'm meant to meet my men soon," he gestured her forward, hand reaching out to help her out of the awkward position she had been in on the floor. "How..how do I know I can trust you?" She asked, for the first time realizing she should've been asking questions to test his loyalty. Though a stray soldier wouldn't do what he'd just done; offered her an escape. "Shouldn't my handsome looks give you enough?" "The sugar house was alluring but it didn't help Hansel and Gretel much, did it?" I countered, earning another soft dispel of air that resembled a chuckle. "I can promise you, my intentions are pure, unless of course you don't want them to be" he further

Part 2-
"Styles, are you listening?" Captain Will snapped from his spot at the front of the pack. Damnit-I'd lost my focus.
Being his second in command, I couldn't afford to make mistakes like that, it could cost my squad more than I'd like to think about. I snapped to attention, my mind narrowing on the surroundings as well as the machine gun in my possession. "Yes sir, just thought I saw something in the brush" I called back as quietly as I could without getting
our cover blown. The battle that took place yesterday took out a good portion of our arms, but the enemy had gotten crucial information on our battle plans,and given that my squad was the most eligible-despite our missing numbers-we were tasked with the responsibility of retrieving those documents. No matter the cost.We were signaled forward, our feet making almost no sound despite our heavy boots and lumbering bodies. It wasn't long before we saw the base camp of the Ferdans, where we broke out into small groups to divide and conquer. Leading Weasley and Simon, next in rank after me, I made my way through the tree line and behind the first set of guards. Where I knocked them out soundly with the butt of my riffle. Signaling my men on, we ventured further into the camp, where we continued to dispatch men-with only a few minor scuffles-until we were within the compound's sad excuse for a fortress.
Looking down both sides of the hallway before leading us on, we turned into the hall, only to find it had a fork just around the corner. "Left or right, sir?" Simon asked, hoping from foot to foot nervously. Understandable, he was new to the army, still yet to get a full chest of hair. "Sir?" "You two go right, I'll head left." I answered. "No arguments. I'm more experienced than the both of you. Stay alert" I added when I saw the hesitation on their faces. Without another word but a simple nod, we split apart,me heading down the hall without the weight of my men looming over me. I worked better as a lone soldier, not with the added title of babysitter. I was scanning the hall for a possible room to search when the sound of voices forced me to take cover.And free-fall down a flight of stairs.

Fantasy stories like this don't usually get a lot of love, and since I've started writing more out there ideas, (in my opinion anyway) I've noticed a large drop in response. It's a bit disheartening, but honestly I love writing fantasy and it's what I'm setting myself up to do the rest of my life; becoming a writer. So just know that even if I'm not posting as much, I still look at this account all the time, and I'm not stopping my progress with it because what I write is different and not what some people are looking for (again, in my opinion). I've just started with a new series and I'm liking how it begun. Please no hate on this, I'm expressing my opinion.

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