I Dream of Disney (Volume II)

Magic Always Comes at a Price [ OUAT Peter Pan x Reader] Part II

Part II - The Price of Blood and Memories

It was a calling to the blood. Though muffled, it was something archaic and carnal which prowled in the domain where darkness turned into nightmares and whimpers became ragged, breathless screaming. More than that, it was the calling of old magic, of enchantments so occult that it made goosebumps crawl over her skin. (Y/n) shuddered. 

The girl's eyes were veiled, her vision indistinct. There appeared trees, stripped of the leaves so that mere skeletons remained around her in what appeared to be an almost perfect circle. At her limp feet, there were crude markings drawn into the stygian earth. 

 She groaned, a whimper of a sound that shot pain down her spine and arms, but she couldn't move. Her wrists were bonded. Bonded with proper ropes fashioned of vine and sharp thorns that would pierce her skin if she moved, tied properly enough so that the circulation was poor, providing only a scarce and sluggish trickle of blood to her wrists, tied above me so that she constantly stretched without rest. When her head tilted back to see the bonds, her neck protested with a crack that jarred the bones with a hiss.

She could not have been tied up for more than a few hours, though the burning in her legs made her feel like she had been trussed there for years. She flexed her wrists, trying to shove the power through the joints to sever the ropes. The vines snapped against her wrists but did not break. The jagged edges of the thorns, tapered like shark teeth, cut into the delicate flesh of her wrists. It was almost an enchantment to see the pale flesh of her wrists cut, blood oozing down her arms as if she wore a red sweater. She tried again, harder that time, but the thorns only sank deeper. She hissed in pain, grinding her teeth.

"There is no way to get out of those bonds."

(Y/n) snapped her neck up, but she couldn't see the body behind the voice. She knew it. It was the voice of that scarred boy, the one they named Felix. Her keen gaze tried to pierce the ring of dead trees, tried to strip the thick foliage of the trees that matted just behind them, but the only thing that she could see was shadows. This was the Realm of Shadows. As if that low, sardonic voice held the power to summon all rage that she had stored, she began to tremble. The sinews in her arms and legs protested, but she couldn't control it. She trembled out of rage. A rage that she couldn't control. A rage that controlled her. When her wrists strained against the ropes, cutting into the flesh and leaving burns and bruises that would become mottled and blue over the damaged skin, they did not break. Frustrated, she cursed under her breath.

"I told you," The face appeared before her suddenly, materialising out of nothing, "There is no way to get out of those bonds. Those purple thorns are laced with Nightshade," A ghastly sliver of white mottled his dark face: a smile, "I see you haven't been keeping still."

(Y/n) couldn't speak. The rage that overwhelmed her cast her silence. The girl glanced up at the immaculately tied bonds, noticing the curving purple thorns that hung just out of her reach. The whitened thorns had become bathed in a gory scarlet as her blood gushed from the opened wounds. Felix stepped forwards, his footfalls pragmatic and hushed against the autumn leaves on which he trod, but his arms were behind his back. Confident. Cautious.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're alive," Felix said, "That's simple enough to explain. You're alive because we haven't decided to kill you. For some reason, Pan thinks he can use you."

"He's wrong," (Y/n) snarled, "I won't be used in any of his cryptic games. If that's why the shadow didn't kill me, then you might as well slit my throat this instant."

The boy's jaw clenched. There was a stark definement to his jaw, already sculpted, until it seemed harrowingly hollow. After a moment, a rueful smile curled his lip.