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adonis-koo · 4 years ago

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Moon Child • knj

↳ Summary: You had never dreamed of a day where you weren’t an Omega, beneath the boots of all your brothers and sisters. In an untimely manner your life is quickly turned upside down at the unexpected Blood Moon Alpha being your mate. With a new home you are summoned to the Kingdom of Vampires all while struggling to get to know your new mate.

↳ Genre: werewolf!AU, a pinch of angst, fluff, smut, alpha!namjoon and omega reader dynamic, soulmate au,

↳ Word Count: 16k

↳ Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

↳ Tags: whew okay um, brief thigh riding, dom!namjoon, alpha is used as a title, rough sex, vaginal fingering, doggy style (what else were y’all expecting?), heat sex, mating, a lil degradation (he calls her a bitch a lot), namjoon likes to call her little :(, size kink, a lil possession, breeding kink, begging, multiple orgasms, namjoon’s cum makes MC go feral??,

Last Installment

Note: aaaah this has taken me over a year to write lmfaooo but it’s so worth it! I can never make a short fic for my husband so I hope you all enjoy!

Run. Feet aching, heart rate spiked and head pounding and yet all you could do was keep running as if your life depended on it. In fact, it did depend on it. Your whole life, your freedom- or what little you had left of it, it all depended on how fast your legs could take you. The cool seeping air that was first sight of winter made your cheeks feel chapped and throbbing, your body near numb with a chill and yet all you could do was shove the branches away from your face away.

You made it obvious, you knew it too, there was no way they couldn’t hear the way your feet crunched over the fallen dead leaves and twigs, the little cuts of your skin was the biggest no-no above all else when escaping a pack- your pack to be exact. You see wolves thrived on scent, it’s how they hunt and track, Werewolves, are no different.

You didn’t know where you were going but you were going to get there somehow. You could hear them in the distance, they were close. Too close. But the rattling up ahead had you spooked as well. You could smell a human and.... something else. A vampire maybe? No, it was strange. Your mind was frantic and you couldn’t go back from where you came.

Shoving through the branches you nearly yelped as you smashed into the doe eyed girl who looked just as scared as you, you could hardly register the throbbing pain of falling down before scrambling away, a whine escaping you as you heard howling in the distance, “Please…” your words weak as you glanced up to the male.

Silver hair and magenta eyes caused him to stick out like a sore thumb in the flora of green, he was immediately at the girls side helping her up as his nose wrinkled, eyes flicking to yours before the girls as he spoke, “Sorry darling but I don’t deal in wolf affairs.”

The girl however couldn’t help but let her lips part, glancing between you and the male before she tugged in his shirt, “Jimin…” She murmured softly, your head frantically shot up at the sound of stampeding paws pounding against the soft earth, they were closing in, “She looks like she needs help...”

Your lips quivered and now that you were on the ground you weren’t sure you could get up any further, your legs ached and your mouth dry and parched, the male gave you a sympathetic look before glancing at the women as he frowned, “Sorry love but wolves have their own court system, nothing we can do about it. Sorry.” He only spared you a brief word before grabbing the girl by her arms and just as you blinked they had dissolved into nothing but black dust and a leftover trail of something foul as you let out a loud whine.

“There she is! I found her!” You scrambled backwards at the sight of your packs head Beta, eyes viscous as he snarled at you. Whining you lowered your gaze as you curled up against yourself. You had one chance and you ruined it. Now what would become of you? It was like a flash, all of your pack hunters surrounding you as they gritted their teeth and snarled, tears blurring in your eyes as you curled into yourself.

You had one chance and just like always, you ruined it.

“Look at the pathetic bitch,” You could the two Beta girls snicker, fingers pointed in your direction as you lowered your gaze, feeling your lips begin with quiver slightly as they began laughing once more, “Her head must be empty if she thought she could outrun us. Omega, fetch us our drinks please.” She shouted, as if just to mock you further.

Tonight was a celebration, and it wasn’t a celebration without the pack’s laughing stock. You, of course. Trying to run away was foolish, it wasn’t like an omega could survive on their own, but you were willing to risk it. Even if it meant just a taste of freedom before you died. Yet just like everything else, you failed miserably.

The torn leather collar was just an added humiliation, a show of power and a show of just how low you were in the pack. You weren’t usually one for self pity, but you couldn’t deny the envy in your veins when you saw other omega’s in the pack.

Omega’s were the lowest of low, they were considered dirt, but even they didn’t have it as bad as you, they continued their daily duties of watching the younger children, washing the pack’s clothes and any other domestic duties. You had all of these responsibilities as well the only difference was that they weren’t the Alpha’s favorite punching bag.

Walking up ahead you held your tray, approaching the two Beta’s who were currently laughing at you before you gasped, feeling a jerking sensation of your body suddenly toppling over due to the Beta’s foot conveniently sticking out just as you walked up to them.

The wooden cups toppled down spilling all over your dress before thudding to the ground making the two girls howl out laughing, “Lost your footing bitch? Awh the poor little omega is going to cry!” Your fists curled in absolute fury as your eyes blurred making them laugh further as you glared at the ground. A wad of spit hitting your cheek as the Beta girl spat at you, “Serves you right you filthy traitor. Abandoning your pack. How shameful!”

They both cackled as they walked away, tears of anger dripping down your cheeks as your hands shook with rage as you harshly wiped the spit off your face. This was life, tormented by people all due to your rank.

You couldn’t help it, you were born an omega. It wasn’t your fault you were born weaker than everyone else, that you couldn’t fight, that your sense of smell wasn’t as good or your sight, it wasn’t your fault you were worthless. Why did everyone's entertainment have to come at your expense?

Sniffling slightly you rubbed the tears from your eyes as you sighed, attempting to not let the frustration get to you. It wasn’t like you could change your birth right regardless. But perhaps in time, people would simply forgot of your existence. Your dress would be stained now and the cups wouldn’t pick itself up after all, life had to go on whether you were the ass of every joke or not.

The last thing you needed was a Beta walking by and scowling at how incompetent you were, “Miss Y/n..! Do you need help!” You glanced up at the bright pair of doe eyes, little Hueningkai stared down at you with that shy smile of his.

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled on your lips as you shook your head, “Don’t worry Kai, I’m fine…” You lowered your gaze a little as you sighed, standing up as you brushed off the specks of dirt from your skirt, your gaze softening a little as you glanced down at the little five year old, “You should get back to your mother. She wouldn’t want you talking to me.”

Hueningkai frowned, those big eyes of his dimming a little before he stomped his foot, “My mom can’t make me! You’re nice Y/n why is everybody so mean to you…!” He frowned eyes looking somewhat glossed at the blatant mistreatment of you, your heart softened a little as you kneeled down, offering the boy a small smile.

He was too young, too innocent to understand how packs- how your pack worked. Some days you couldn’t help but wonder if the little boy’s heart would always stay this soft, or if in time, he’d become cruel like everyone else.

“This is how the pack works Kai, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. Now run along, the Blood Moon pack will be here soon and I’m sure your mom will want you close.” He parted his lips to object before sighing, bouncing a little in his spot before he nodded. You sighed as you watched him scurry away where the crackle of the large bonfire was in the distance and the moon was high in the sky tonight.

Patrols would be heavy tonight and despite this being a celebration you weren’t a fool to the tension in the air. Blood Moon was one of the strongest packs in the realm, not only this but they recently made an ally with the vampiric Jeon Dynasty of Arestella which was a feat in itself. This was a big step for werewolves. You ran in packs and it was rare that society accepted your kind in their towns and villages for long.

But now having Blood Moon formally recognized, not just by civilization but by the Vampires, the most respected species? It was a massive honor and everyone wanted to jump to be allies with Blood Moon in hopes of also getting an ally with the Jeon Dynasty. Including your pack.

Blood Moon was coming here to evaluate if your pack would be worthy of becoming allies. If it were up to you, you’d tell their Alpha to not waste his time and find a more compassionate pack then your own. If you were going to rot alone in this pack forever then you might as well make everyone just as miserable.

Your pack was strong, but not enough to take on one like Blood Moon, perhaps that’s why the guard rotation would be high tonight, in hopes of making your pack look stronger then it was in reality. Who knows, if this went bad maybe they’d just kill you all. Maybe they’d kill you and put you out of your misery.

The flames of the bonfire exploded as you watched the crowd pile around in the distance, cheers were loud and drums banged as you picked up the cups, gently holding one in each hand as you sighed, the wood had been brittle and cracks had become apparent as they bounced against a large tree root. Standing up you intended to throw away them in the waste bin not too far away from you but you stopped in your tracks at the strong smell. No, scent.

It was like firewood and cedar mixed together, maybe even a little pine if you sniffed hard enough. Your nose wouldn’t stop twitching at such a dreamy scent, you could almost smell the twinge of ash from here. How weird. You rubbed your nose as you dumped the cups into the bin.

No matter how hard you tried though the smell wouldn’t go away, not that you minded of course. It smelt amazing, you just couldn’t help but wonder what- or who- was causing it. Maybe...No...who were you kidding? It was said mate’s had heightened smells, to find one another, but, you surely didn’t have a mate. And even if you did...You doubt they’d ever want you. The crowd seemed to morph into an even larger state as unfamiliar wolves joined in. Blood Moon must have arrived.

“What are you doing standing around bitch? The Alpha wants you.” You sighed as you lowered your gaze, the head Beta snarled at you, grabbing your arm roughly as he yanked you along making a small whimper escape your mouth. You were dragged through the crowd as they made a path for you both as you came up to the large bonfire, everyone standing at a distance due to its immense heat that licked at the air nearby.

You strangled another whine as you were thrown at the boots of your pack’s Alpha, shakily you sat up on your knees wrapping your arms around yourself as you refused to look up at him. You could hear him chuckle as he kneeled down grabbing your chin harshly, “This is our pack's little bitch. I’m sure she’ll keep your beta’s nice and happy, won’t you?” He growled menacingly as you lowered your gaze once more, lips quivering as you sucked in a harsh breath.

That scent from earlier suddenly suddenly invaded your sense once more, this time even more heady than before. It was all you could smell and even tenfold. Your thighs suddenly felt weak and arousal pooled uncomfortably between your legs.

“That won’t be necessary.” A strong deep voice cut in, making all the cheers from your pack stop as a new pair of thick boots stood in front of you. A squeak leaving your lips as you were suddenly pulled to stand up, large hands wrapped around your arms and you were glancing up at the tall daunting figure of the Alpha of Blood Moon.

A hand quickly cupped your chin as your lips began to tremble, you heard him scoff, a twitch of irritation on his face as he lifted your chin higher as if inspecting the bruises you dawned.

You were confused and scared and yet oddly aroused, being face to face with the werewolves strongest Alpha and he seemed angry. Silently furious even, what had you done to even warrant this? Breath? Your lips trembled in fear as thoughts invaded your mind frantically, you were dead, you were really dead now.

You hadn’t even said a word- “If this is how you’ve been treating my mate, then we have no business to attend with you.” Your lips parted, openly gaping at the said alpha who just claimed….you...you were his mate…

Oh...oh my god...you were his mate! You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs at how much of a complete idiot you had been for ignoring his scent earlier yet you were frozen in place staring up at the tall figure of Blood Moon’s Alpha, Kim Namjoon.

He was even more handsome in person then what you had heard, you had an amazing angle of his razor sharp jawline and truthfully you couldn’t help but feel somewhat intimidated and aroused all at the same time. His k-nines looked just as sharp if not even more so and his tongue was tucked into his cheek, showing a dimple yet his expressions couldn’t convey anything but annoyance.

Your pack's Alpha’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head before he sneered, a gritty smile on his lips as he forced a laugh, “This? Is your mate? Namjoon surely you’re joking. We Alpha’s don’t associate with weaklings like them, they only slow our packs down.” You couldn’t help but lower your head in shame...He was right...you didn’t deserve to have someone like Kim Namjoon, Alpha of the great Blood Moon pack be your mate. You were nothing in compared to the leaps and bounds he had made in the werewolves history.

“Omega’s are what we need to keep our humanity, they’re the softness we need in our pack to remind us that we’re still human. Omega’s are the caretakers of the sick and the hurt, they’re the ones that remind us peace is just as much of an option as war. I couldn’t be more proud to have an Omega as my mate.” Your gaze shot up to the wolfish appearance of Namjoon, his hair had been neatly styled but there were still a few stray hairs that gave him that wolfish look.

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat timid under the hellfire gaze of your pack’s Alpha, but oddly enough, having Namjoon stand beside you made you feel oddly...safe...Warm even, as if it was radiating off his body and you felt the urge to nestle against his side. As if it were meant to be.

Your wariness however stopped you from attempting to do so. You may know who Namjoon is, but you don’t know him personally. Is this just a set up? To get you to act out before you’re cruelly punished. You haven’t said a peep yet and you certainly don’t intend too. Especially with both pack’s present and not a single soul speaking, everyone's eyes wide at the situation that has unraveled so quickly.

“I’m surprised the Jeon’s choose your pack,” He sneered, eyes darkening as he growled, “Any Omega sympathizers are usually outcasts. What makes you think you can take my Omega?” He punctuated the word carefully making your heart squeeze a little.

“What makes you think I can’t take her?” Namjoon suddenly snarled, his voice guttural making you jump, his eyes flashing a dangerous red as he bared his k-nines, “My pack is the strongest for a reason and I’ll make a demonstration of that just as easily. But because my mate is present I’ll make you a deal. And you sure as hell better take it. You let me take my mate, and I’ll leave this pack without a slaughter. No deals are being made and you won’t be allied, but you’ll be alive so there’s that.” Namjoon gave an icy condescending smile making your pack’s Alpha twitch in irritation.

It was silent for a moment before he bared his teeth, your pack’s Alpha hated being made a fool and right now he looked like a whole circus as he snapped, “Go! Take the bitch, we don’t need her anyways.” Namjoon’s eyes cut at his words but he said no more. Waving a hand you squeaked at the sudden appearance of another wolf, Namjoon glancing at him briefly before down at you, “Take her to the camp set up.”

You hadn’t even said a word and just like that, your life had been completely changed. Yet ironically enough, walking with the wolf as everyone's eyes glared down at you, you wouldn’t miss this hell hole for a second.

You were wringing your hands as you paced in the lavished tent, a rug was even thrown down and there was a desk filled with plenty of papers, a foldable cot was set down at the end of the tent. You had never been somewhere so...luxurious before. You were subjected to sleeping on the ground most days and you were considerably lucky if it was closed to the bonfire. But not only was this tent set up close to the fire, there was a bed.

You had never slept in a bed before. Well, a cot. But it was the same thing to you. You just couldn’t stop stressing though. Were you really mated to Kim Namjoon? Was he the one you’d spend the rest of your days with? You felt unsure, you needed to get to know him. To know if this was it.

Werewolves had derived the term Mate, it was the closest you'll ever find to a soulmate. The Moon Goddess, had a mate planned for every wolf, someone who was your perfect match. The one you were meant to spend your life with. You personally, just always assumed you’d die both young and alone. It was hard believing Namjoon….Kim Namjoon, was your mate.

You perked up at the sound of footsteps coming from a few feet away from the tent, they were surprisingly light compared to what you expected. Turning around you were met with the tent flap opening, your lips immediately quivering as your gaze timidly dropped at the sight of Namjoon entering.

You could hear him chuckle softly making you fidget. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do....Okay it was a dumb question, you knew what you were supposed to do. Mates would consummate and mark one another when they meet, mating was a universal thing to all creatures alike. But… you didn’t want to do that with someone you just met…

No matter how much your instincts were going crazy right now with the need to bend over his bed and present yourself in need.

“You look scared,” Namjoon murmured softly, you jumped at his hand cupping your cheek, you hadn’t realized he was right in front of you until now, “Mmm, I won’t hurt you.” His growl was low, almost instinctive at the way his nose nudged against your hair, “I’ve been waiting to find my mate for a very long time. What’s your name?”

His hands tenderly wrapped around your arms, his nose continuously nudging your hair as if drowning himself in your scent. You weren’t sure if his gesture was meant to be comforting, a part of you wanting to lean into his touch but the other had been bruised your whole life from touch. How were you supposed to learn to be okay with it again?

Your body naturally tensed in his grip as you murmured, “Y/n…” You didn’t want to be difficult, you didn’t want your mate to think you were stubborn and unattractive, but...You also didn’t want to give in right away...you weren’t sure you were ready too.

Namjoon nipped against your ear making you jump, a playful smirk on his lips as he replied, “I’ll just assume you already know my name.” He decided to attempt a bolder move, nipping at your neck, this time making you whine. Except it wasn’t the good kind, you attempted to push yourself away as your gaze lowered back down.

Namjoon immediately paused, frowning as he pulled away somewhat to look at you. Your considerably smaller figure timidly glancing at the ground, as if expecting some sort of reprimanding. It was from this moment Namjoon realized this was going to take a bit more time then he had hoped. His hormones and your scent were driving him utterly insane with the need to mount you.

But your comfort was and would always be more important to him, he wanted you to trust him, to be unafraid of giving yourself to him. While Namjoon wished being mates would magically make all this happen, he knew it wouldn’t, “Why don’t you get undressed and lay down. I’m sure you haven’t gotten a good night's rest in awhile.”

Yet he couldn’t resist the urge to stroke a tender hand through your hair, pushing it back away from your eyes so he could properly see your face. Timidly you glanced up at him, nibbling against your lip as they parted before closing for a brief moment before you forced yourself to speak, “B-but...what….what about…” Your face felt hot as you tried to finish your sentence.

“That can wait,” Namjoon replied promptly, offering you a gentle smile, “You’re here now, there shouldn’t be a rush. And you don’t look comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Your lips trembled slightly, you weren’t sure what it was. Namjoon’s kind smile, those pretty dimples that showed up on his cheeks as he glanced down at you, or if it was his tender touch against your hair, as if he was calming a scared child. You didn’t know what it was but your eyes were watering before you let out a sniffle.

“Hey, shhh! Don’t cry.” Namjoon was immediately cupping your cheeks, a frown on his face at the sight of your tears but before he could ask why you were crying you launched into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you buried into his warm chest, into the divine scent that rolled off him in waves.

“T-thank you. Thank you so much.” You couldn’t stop thanking him in muffled sniffles, unsure of what you have ever done to deserve such an incredibly compassionate mate. You had never met an Alpha like Namjoon before. Most were cold and intimidating, but he was different. There was a reason he was the strongest.

Rather than lock away his emotions, he weaponized them.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss against the top of your head, “Shhh, you’re never going back there again. You’re home my little omega.” You had the biggest, most dumb looking smile on your face as you nuzzled into his chest, your cheeks burning at his nickname he had easily provided you. But for the first time in your life, it didn’t sound demeaning, it sounded endearing.

You couldn’t get enough of Namjoon’s touch, it wasn’t even sexual. No matter how much your body thought it’d be better if it was. Just his touch was healing, it made you want more and more of it. You kept nudging him every time he’d take his hand off of you, wanting to be continuously petted.

You might not have consummated with your mate, but you did spend the night tenderly in one another’s embrace, Namjoon showering you in the touch you were starved of your whole life. You never thought you were interested in physical touch until now, you wanted all of it, you wanted his hands petting your side, stroking your hair, his lips peppering your face in kisses.

You felt like a pup again when you fell asleep against his chest. Your life had changed drastically in a single night and yet you didn’t feel overwhelmed in the slightest. This was meant to be, you were sure of it.

“Looks like a storm is brewing.” You jumped at the soft sound of Namjoon’s voice, calm and steady behind you as you turned around from your spot where you had been currently watching the clouds brew and darken. You have been with Blood Moon for a little more then two weeks now. Everything was so...different.

Everyone was kind, they treated you with the utmost respect which you found yourself dumbfound at. You understood to a degree, being mates with the Alpha meant you’d….you’d be the packs Luna. There was no one to guide you on how to be a Luna and perhaps that was what had been secretly daunting you. This wouldn’t be an easy task, what if everyone judged you for making a wrong move?

You wouldn’t become Luna of course, until you were mated to Namjoon, which you hadn’t partook in yet. But it was still lingering in the back of your head. Things between you both had been, formal at best. There was still much physical affection at night...and the occasional rutting- from the both of you before you both stopped your instinctual nature.

“I’ve always loved the rain,” You offered a meek smile, you still had a hard time finding a way to converse with Namjoon in an informal way, he often told you at night he preferred when you spoke freely but...It just all seemed so foreign to you.

Turning back around you let the cool wind blow against your face, lifting your chin a little as you sniffed the fresh air, you could smell the crisp evergreen and the combination of rain on the horizon, “But thunderstorms always scared me as a pup. I have exceptionally good hearing so I didn’t like loud noises back then.”

Much like any other Omega you were considerably weak, but all omega’s had at least one strong sense, and yours just so happened to be hearing. But you often thought it came at a disadvantage, all you ever heard was the laughter of your brothers and sisters who looked down their noses at you.

At least omega’s with speed had a better chance at running and those with good sight could see predators a mile away. Yet all you could do was cover your ears in hopes to drown out the noise of the world.

“And what about now?” Namjoon asked, offering you an endearing smile as he sat down on the fallen tree that you stood behind, taking a moment to admire his beautiful mate. Turning to face him you gave a somewhat sheepish smile, lowering your gaze a little.

It was hard some days to even look Namjoon in the eyes, he still carried the pheromones of an Alpha and it constantly reminded you that you were below him. That if you even so much as annoyed him he could easily snap your neck and there was nothing you could do about it. You felt guilty sometimes, for thinking this way. But it wasn’t as if you could help it, you had spent your whole life getting thrown around by your old pack’s alpha.

“It doesn’t scare me as much anymore as it just hurts at times.The only thing that isn��t completely useless about me is my hearing,” You offered a weak smile as you rubbed the back of your neck, looking back out over the storm ahead, the clouds becoming darker by the second before you watched a crack of lightning strike in the distance, “It’s much more sensitive to noise then most wolves.”

It was true, that was your one exceptionally good ability, you could nearly hear things a mile away, sometimes you picked up on interesting conversations. You had even known Blood Moon was planning to visit your pack long before anyone else found out in the regular ranks. It wasn’t a totally useless ability. But still, good hearing often came with disadvantages like loud noises that always had you whimpering and covering your ears.

“You aren’t useless.” You jumped at the way Namjoon suddenly grabbed your shoulders, turning you around to face him, his expression almost appeared like a scowl, looking somewhat angry as he continued, “You’ve been saying degrading things about yourself ever since you got here. You are my mate,” He let out a soft growl as you lowered your gaze, feeling like a pup being scowled at the moment, “Don’t mistake your softness for weakness. You aren’t useless. I won’t stand for you saying these things about yourself.”

A loud crackle of thunder rumbled making you jolt a little, a low whine emanating from you as you rubbed your ears, “That’s easier said than done. You haven’t lived the life I have.” You tugged away from him a little as you kept your gaze lowered, pretending to not notice the look of mild hurt on his face at your rejection of his comfort, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

There were moments like this from time to time, moments of disconnect between you both. You couldn’t help but wonder somedays if the Moon Goddess made a mistake, if you were really meant to be with Namjoon. Especially when days like this happened.

“Then help me understand,” You paused as Namjoon wrapped his arms around you from behind, letting his chin rest on your shoulder as he nudged your neck with his nose, “I only want the best for you Y/n.” But did he? You felt unsure of how to go forward with your budding relationship with Namjoon. Could you really open up to him?

“I don’t know how,” You mumbled, feeling somewhat ashamed despite not knowing why. Maybe a part of you wished you did, you wanted to be with Namjoon, you really did. But the only thing stopping you was yourself. Glancing out over the dark clouds you sighed, feeling a droplet of rain splat against your cheek as you rubbed it away, “We should get back to camp to let the others know the storm is beginning. It’s going to be a long night.”

Namjoon looked as if he had more to say but only nodded at your words, stopping for a moment before holding out a hand to you. Glancing down at it you nibbled against your lip before hesitantly letting your fingers lace in his.

He offered you a small dimpled smile, free hand lovingly stroking through your hair before leading you back to where the pack was camped out.

You and a few of the scouts of the pack had searched for somewhere dry to stay before the storm fully hit, thunder kept rumbling from far away and the lightning was getting closer with each strike.

Out of a pure stroke of luck you had found a large cave mass that went deep into the Northern Mountains. The rain had already started pouring down as everyone was being gathered into the mountain, Namjoon was soaking wet as he waved in the crowd of people, his eyes meeting your soaking figure as he paused, “You should go to the fire and get warm. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold pup.”

He smiled down at your cute figure that glanced up at him, you rubbed your cheek somewhat shyly as you shook your head, you couldn’t afford to lay by a fire when so many others were being drenched in the ice cold rain, “I’m okay. We need to make sure everyone is safe first. I’m going out to check to make sure everyone is together.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, a smile still adorning his face as you pushed through the crowd as you made your way outside.

A loud clap of thunder booming down making you jump with a whine as you covered your ears as you pressed forward through the harsh rain that dropped down like ice against your skin. It was freezing outside! Rubbing your arms you glanced around at the line of people as everyone gathered inside.

You could hear something abnormal but it was difficult to make out what it was between the rain pounding on the ground and the thunder that rumbled loudly, whining you covered your ears, feeling a headache come on as you pushed forward. Your senses were going wild, you could hear something. You knew you could. You just couldn’t figure out what.

A loud clap of thunder roared causing you gasp, covering your ears as pain throbbed in your head, closing your eyes. You tried to tune out the noise but it only became heightened, “Help! Somebody please!”

Your eyes snapped open as rain poured down, trying to relocate the sound before quickly following along the line of the crowd that was becoming shorter and shorter by the moment until you reached a little ways past the end, “Help! Please! Help!” You found an older wolf, a mother by the looks of it drenched in rain, looking frantic as you ran up to her, she grabbed your hands as she cried, “My pups! Please! She fell in the river nearby while we were waiting! My boy can’t keep her much longer!”

You felt your heart burst- you should go get someone you can help! But…! There wasn’t enough time! “Lead the way!” You replied almost immediately. You’d just have to try your best for the sake of the young pup and the mother. She fumbled as she brought you down the steep hill, almost falling but catching yourself as your eyes caught the dimmed vision of a young boy crying out, “Mom! Mom! I can’t hold on any longer!”

Not having the strength to keep up his little sister just as you were in reach of the crying girl his hand slipped, the heavy stream of water coursing causing her to immediately be washed away by the streams current. You could hear both the boy and mother scream before you did the stupidest thing in your life.

Diving into the water coughed as your vision blurred with water and ran mixed, the water was ice cold and caused your teeth to immediately clack as you were rushed along, the little girl calling out with cries as her head bobbed up and down in the water.

“Hold on!” You called out coughing up water as you grabbed onto the log that was lodged in the river that the little girl managed to grab. Grabbing onto it you spat the river water that entered your mouth once more before managing to get closer to the little girl, her arms around your neck and you could hear her pitiful sobs as you held her.

Your body was trembling and the whiplash of rain and the strong current was making your muscles weak as you tried to keep steady against the log, water continuously lashed against your face and rain in your eyes as you slowly but steadily used the log to guide you back to the land. Your muscles were ready to give out, not used to being used so much as you crawled onto the cold muddy ground.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” The mother was the first to run over immediately crying out over the loud rain, grabbing her sobbing daughter as she hugged her close, “We own you so much Luna! Thank you! Oh..! Luna?” You couldn’t muster a word, your body trembling and your vision spotting before everything went dark.

…

Whining a little your head felt fuzzy and your muscles ached with every little movement. It took a moment before you forced your eyes open meeting the dark ceiling above, a few stalagmites hanging above you as brief confusion washed over your figure. Your body trembled a little as you heard a tongue clack, “You should be closer to the fire.”

You groaned a little as you rubbed your head, your vision a little bleared as you rubbed your eyes before glancing up to the familiar voice of Namjoon who had just finished placing a fresh piece of firewood onto the small little fire that wasn’t too far from you, “C’mere my little omega.” He scooped you up effortlessly making you whine.

You didn’t have any energy to objection though as Namjoon sat down, his back against the cave wall and now closer to the fire where your body was trembling as much, “You’re soaked to the bone,” He tutted, letting a hand press against your forehead before sighing, “You should’ve got someone to help you Y/n. You could’ve been killed diving into that water on your own.”

You trembled once more, shifting a little in Namjoon’s grip before nudging your nose against his neck, the overwhelming scent of cedar and firewood relaxing your senses as you buried against your mate, “If I had gone to go get help that girl would’ve died.” You mumbled in weak objection against his neck, closing your eyes tiredly as you felt Namjoon’s hand begin to tenderly stroke through your hair, “Besides, I’m alive still, aren’t I?”

You smiled weakly as you glanced up at Namjoon, he didn’t return the sentiment though, his eyes were a deep mahogany brown, piercing your gaze with his own and the fire reflecting and exaggerated his high cheekbones that much more.

“That doesn’t mean you will be in the future,” He growled, this time in a more stern voice causing your lips to quiver as they dropped, “Take somebody with you next time. I…” He sighed, his expression relaxing once more as he buried into your hair, “I couldn’t live with myself if you died and I just- I just let you. You’re my mate, I’m supposed to take care of you.”

You frowned at his words, feeling somewhat conflicted. You had dreamt your whole life of being taken care of, of wanting someone to care, to comfort and coddle your every step. But...You didn’t have that sentiment growing up, and now actually having it…”But I’m okay. Namjoon,” You pulled away a little, your hair still damp and clinging to your face as you pushed it away, “I can take care of myself. I’ve had too my whole life.”

You lowered your gaze a little as you tugged on a strand of your hair, “I...I know...that I’ve been a bit distant. And that we should already be mated by now. And I know that I haven’t been the easiest to get to know but, I just...I just need time, to get to know you, to become comfortable with the pack...I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s overwhelming in ways that it shouldn’t be.”

You felt insecure about how you felt, truthfully. You should be grateful, you should be happy that you’ve somehow, against all odds, found your mate. That you should let him mate with you and get a move on with your new life. But it was difficult, in ways you felt like it shouldn’t be but it was hard getting used to such friendly smiles, to having your mate tenderly take care of you. Being called Luna, was rather overwhelming.

“Y/n,” Namjoon sighed, his forehead resting on yours as his thumb rubbed against your cheek bone, “I’ve already told you we don’t have to be in a hurry. You can take as much time as you want to get used to the pack and we can take our time getting to know one another. I’ll be just as dedicated to you now as I will when we mate.” he nipped playfully at your neck making a smile tug on your lips, “But I will always be protective of you. That’s my instinctive nature.”

You sighed in understanding, no matter how it made you feel, Namjoon was right. Mates were always protective, Alpha mates in particular, some more so than others. Even if Namjoon didn’t display it as often as others it was still there.

You closed your eyes as you curled up against him, letting his fingers continue to untangle your hair in little strokes, a few pecks against your head here and there, “Have you been told why we’re here at the Northern Mountains?” You perked up a little with a yawn as you glanced up at Namjoon in confusion, a smile on his face as he brushed the hair away from your face, “We’re visiting Arestella, to see the Royal family. The Prince summoned us not long ago”

Your lips parted a little as you tilted your head, “The Jeon Dynasty?” They were considered one of the kindest Dynasties to rule over Arestella for centuries- that was of course if you ignored the current king who outlawed magick and had sentenced the Witch Hunt to begin. But that was nearly fifty years ago now. Otherwise they had a fairly peaceful rule, it wasn’t too big of a surprise to you that their Crowned Prince signed an ally treaty with Namjoon. But still, to actually be here with Namjoon and him saying you’d be going to the Kingdom of Vampires, it was all a bit surreal.

Namjoon’s smile widened as he nodded, “Yes, me and the Prince- Jungkook have some business to attend. Apparently there's been a massive stir in demonic energy. There've been a lot of rumored Demon sightings that’s caused fright among Arestella’s outer villages.”

You frowned as you pressed your lips together, hesitating for a moment as you rubbed the back of your neck, “Demons? Are they really real?” You felt somewhat hesitant to ask. You mind going back to when you last attempted to escape your pack. Those magenta eyes and silver hair, they were almost otherworldly...and the way they just...disappeared into thin air...

Namjoon offered you a weak smile as he shrugged, “I think so, I don’t know about the Prince’s involvement with demon’s but if he believes they’re real then I’d be willing to bet they are. He has ties in all sorts of different affairs. Demonic energy doesn’t always equate demons though, sometimes it’s just been plagued by Witches for a long time.”

You hummed in response. You could see where witches could build demonic energy- not that you necessarily believed all witches were bad. People liked to fear monger and point fingers and be done with it. But things were rarely that simple in life. You still felt bad for all the witches that died during the Witch Hunt, a dark period in time just in the passing of Magicks outlaw.

“I guess we’ll see when we arrive.” You mumbled as you let your head rest in the crook of Namjoon’s neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close.

“Soon enough my little omega.” There it was again, that giddy little smile on your face as you sighed in contentment. Life wasn’t all too bad, even in it’s less fine moments.

The journey to Arestella had been peaceful, the weather had become gradually colder with each passing day and soon frost would be covering the ground and nights would become freezing without fire. This however, wasn’t a big deal for wolves as you had been custom to this for some time. When the air was colder the pack would shift and the fur of your animal counterpart kept you warm.

The one thing you were still struggling with was all the respect everyone gave to you. You felt yourself fumbling at times due to how friendly and kind everyone was. At first, you wondered if it was just because you were mates with the Alpha. It wasn’t the first you had seen everyone give special treatment to a Luna.

Your eyes would warily watch over the other Omega’s in the pack who all appeared happy, anytime one was struggling a Beta was practically bouncing over to assist whenever needed. Things seemed so contrary to how you lived your life. Even now in such a spacious tent where the heat of the fire licked in the air where you settled against the small cot in contentment.

Nudging against the pillow as you sighed, Namjoon and Jackson the head Beta had been talking about taking an alternate route to Arestella over the past few days which had lead to him not joining you until later.

Hearing the soft crunch of leaves had your head perking and you could almost feel your inner wolf’s tail thwacking harshly as you curled up, the flap of the tent opening to see Namjoon’s- happy but obviously tired expression, “Happy to see me pup?” He teased lightly as you grabbed the stiff pillow to nudge against it to hide your smile.

You were shameless in watching him pull the billowing shirt over his head to reveal the taunt thick muscles of his back to your view, your legs pressing together as you pulled the fur blanket over your chin, “How was the meeting?” You asked as Namjoon rolled his neck before taking a seat in bed, his hand resting against your head as he softly stroked your hair.

“Good,” He hummed before laying down facing you, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he let his fingers curl around a strand, “We received a pigeon from the Sisterhood today.” You raised your brows a little in curiosity.

The Sisterhood? You had heard of them of course, anyone who hadn’t was obviously living under a rock, or a century old witch perhaps, Namjoon chuckled a little at your expression as his hand met with your cheek once more, “We work in accord with them much like many other packs. We share the land with them and it only makes sense.”

“Well yes,” You replied, it certainly wasn’t unheard of for the Sisterhood and wolves to work together, even your pack had assistance given to them by the Sisterhood from time to time, “But I didn’t realize you were that chummy with one another.” You snorted as you raised a brow.

Namjoon clacked his tongue, his thumb stroking along your cheekbone making you shuffle closer to his warm body, “You know the story of how wolves came to be, yes?”

“...Well...I’ve heard a few different variations.” You replied with a shrug, nearly every wolf knew a tale of how your species came to be but they widely varied. Your now curious as to what this had to do with the Sisterhood’s involvement.

Namjoon gave a knowing smile as he replied, “It’s been passed down between generations of my family that a very long time ago, when the Moon was still young she- for the first time heard a prayer. It was of a young boy who had been attacked by our counterpart, wolves,”

Namjoon tenderly pushed the strand of hair behind you as he spoke, “The young boy was crying and he bled beyond saving. As the life force left his body and he took his last breath beneath the full moon, pitied, the Moon Goddess took mercy on him and blessed him. Her powers only reigned so far, and so she turned him into a wolf. The Moon Goddess told the boy that once his wounds would heal he would be safe to return to human. But now he must bear the dual nature of both animal and human.”

“When the rumors began to fester, the men of the villages nearby wanted to hunt the monster,” Namjoon hummed his fingers tracing down to your jawline, “The boy’s lover however, discovered who he was and pleaded with the men of the village. When they would not listen, the girl was sent a blessing by the Moon Goddess. The Bow of Lux. It became clear to her that if they would not listen to her, she would make them listen,”

Namjoon gave a wry smile as he continued, “When the last man perished, the girl swore her life to the Moon Goddess and would continue to protect those who lived inside the forest and those who lived outside. The Moon Goddess, pleased, allowed her to form the Sisterhood and once she passed on, they say her soul turned to stardust and became Orion’s bow.”

You perked a little as you smiled, “Is that why the women in the Sisterhood are only allowed to be addressed by celestial names to outsiders?” You had never heard that part of the story! It sounded so…! So forlorn yet, meant to be. Divine even. Namjoon chuckled as he patted your head, “Perhaps, that’s one of many theories. Orion is the patron of the Sisterhood, the first to protect. They pray to her for strength before they go into battle. My point however,” Namjoon tutted a little, his eyes crinkling in adoration, “Is that no matter what tale is being told, the wolves and the Sisterhood go hand in hand. We protect and work with one another when needed.”

“Then what did the Sisterhood want?” You whined a little, impatient at Namjoon’s wordiness, he tapped your neck in gentle scold as you wiggled closer to him, his arm finally wrapping around you as he curved a brow.

Clacking his tongue he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead, “Don’t be pushy pup,” You could hear the playful scold in his tone, “It was sent by one of the independent scouts; Vega. She asked that we keep our eyes out for a witch that lives in the North.”

You frowned as you asked, “A witch? What could she want with a witch?”

Namjoon shrugged, his fingers tracing against your hip as he replied, “I can’t say for sure. All I know is she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I know requesting Arestella to find a witch would probably get her hanged.”

“Are Vampires really that fickle?” You raised your brows, unable to stop the snort, you had never seen a Vampire before but you had heard about them plenty and how proud they were. You didn’t understand why the reigning king banned Magick as it was, especially when it seemed as if their society relied on it previously.

Namjoon also scoffed out an amused laugh, “You’d be surprised. Nobody follows the rules more than the own royal court. The Mad King makes sure of it. Anyone caught using magick is either hanged or burned. Even the court is not excluded.” You shivered a little at the thought.

“And will you keep an eye out then?” You asked, you supposed since Blood Moon was nomadic like any other pack, Arestella couldn’t hold you accountable for the laws of their lands. But it made you worried.

Namjoon closed his eyes solemnly, “I will, I’d never turn my back on the Sisterhood. Furthermore, the Prince doesn’t know all of my affairs. If it doesn’t concern our relationship then he doesn’t need to know.” He finally pulled you against him as you squeaked a little, your nose immediately nudging against his neck as you coiled against him, “You’ve been awfully curious tonight pup.” He whispered in your ear.

A smile tugged on your lips as you inhaled his scent slowly, you could almost vividly smell the crackle of burnt wood against his skin, the kerosene he had split earlier while helping build a fire, a whine suddenly escaping your lips as you felt heat pooling between your legs. Your face throbbing as you embarrassingly pushed against his neck to hide yourself.

This had been happening a lot, putting off your consummation had taken a toll on your body, constantly making you become aroused when you became too close to your mate for too long. The need to be filled with him was a constant ache, as if sensing that Namjoon let out an instinctive growl, his thigh suddenly forcing its way between your legs as he whispered in your ear once more, “I can smell how wet you are little one.”

Your face throbbed even harder as your hips began rubbing into his thigh in search of friction you needed, desperately. Namjoon and you both had agreed taking things slow was for the best….But that certainly hadn’t stopped him or you from testing the waters a little…

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whined against, letting your hips drag against his warm thick thigh as your clit pressed gently against his skin, the pleasure nearly sent you pathetically howling against his skin, “This isn’t fair!” You whimpered, your thighs shaking and your panties becoming stickier within seconds.

Namjoon’s laugh was deeper this time, as if amused at how frantic his little omega was, “Then take what you deserve my little pup.” He nipped against your ear as you jumped, his hands grabbing your waist as he rolled unto his back, forcing your to straddle him as your lips quivered into a pout.

Your clit was throbbing though and seeing how inviting his thighs looked was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, shifting to place yourself against one as you whined a little, unable to stare directly at him as your hips wiggled in need against his thigh. Pleasure swelled in your body and a muffled whine escaped you before you jumped at the sound of leaves crunching.

Namjoon instinctively sat up as you curled against him, not a second later hearing the sound of footsteps as a voice called out, “Namjoon, I need just one more thing.” Jackson called out as you crumpled against your mate.

You felt embarrassed at letting your hormones get the best of you. Namjoon as if sensing this gently stroked a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss against your head, “Don’t look so disappointed, we can always try again later.”

Your lips quivered into a scowl as you pouted, flopping against the bed as Namjoon chuckled before calling out, “I’ll be out in a moment.” It was just as well Jackson had interrupted when he had. Who would’ve known what that would spiral into if you had been left alone.

“You look wide eyed.” Namjoon chuckled as he watched you circle around yourself, lips gaping as you glanced around in curiosity. There were so many sights and sounds it was hard to take it all in at once, “C’mere my pup, I don’t want you getting lost.” He grabbed your hand attentively as he pulled you along.

The journey to Arestella had taken another day and a half but you did eventually arrive and you were in near awe at the sight. You had never been in a Kingdom before, much less the grand jewel of the realm. You could smell the hefty scent of fresh baked loathes from the few humans that dared to reside in the realm of Vampires.

Today was a beautiful day, apparently Arestella wasn’t known to be the sunniest Kingdom but today seemed to be different, the sky was a brilliant azure blue with fluffy billowing clouds to compliment it’s sky and the breeze was cool against the day’s warm air, “I’ve never been somewhere so...crowded.” You managed to say as you squeezed past a group of people, staying particularly close to Namjoon as you glanced around wide eyed.

“There’s much excitement to see,” Namjoon chuckled, “If you think this is incredible, wait until we see the castle. That’s where we’ll be staying the next few days. Jackson will keep everyone settled in the outskirts of town meanwhile.”

You couldn’t deny you were excited, you could see the gothic castle even from here despite it being so far away. The day was busy and everyone was bustling but if there was one thing you noticed...It was a lack of color...or thereof…What color there was seemed very organized, as if these people were all in groups. And then occasionally you’d spot a bright pop of red of some of the people you passed, “Why is everyone dressed so...dark…” You frowned as you kept close to your mate.

“They have a very strict system here in Arestella, they use colors to keep classes separated. It’s mostly in jewelry you’ll see it. Humans must wear red in some form as it’s stated by law if they live in Arestella. Blue is often a color worn by wealthy families, a multiple array of colors can be worn by the average vampire. I’m not very familiar with how it all works though. Vampires have their own class system like us wolves have though.” Namjoon explained as he guided you through the crowd as you curiously looked around.

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you glanced around, excitedly spotting another patch of red on a young girls neck, she appeared around your age and she- unlike you- seemed used to the large crowds of people, yet oddly enough despite being surrounded by vampires she didn’t look the least scared, “How can humans live here despite knowing a vampires nature? I think we don’t give them enough credit sometimes.” You commented as you let your eyes focus ahead.

“Most likely because humans here use sigils to keep them protected from feral vampires,” Namjoon snorted, looking somewhat amused at how fascinated you seemed by this strange new world, “They live quite peacefully. Vampires are a bit proud though, they don’t like admitting that they do need humans to survive. No matter how much they can argue that they can feast on turned vampires, they still need humans for that to happen.”

You hummed in curiosity before laughing a little, noticing the mild annoyance in Namjoon’s tone as he glanced ahead, a hint of smile on his face when he heard you as you both walked hand in hand. Eventually you did make it up to the castle together.

You had never seen anything like it, the way the dark brick walls towered high above your head and the wings of the castle stood large and proud. Even though the courtyard was filled with lush flowers and benches for rest, it looked like something straight out of a fairytale. You didn’t understand how guards and maids could walk by without so much as a glance at the beautiful scenery.

Namjoon tugged you along as your lips parted, the castle doors opening upon your arrival and you were greeted by a smiling maid that curtsied to you both immediately guiding you up several flights of stairs, the corridors were long but you couldn’t help but focus on the beautiful marble flooring.

The way the original white swirled with black and greys and speckled gold with even some peacock blue highlighting. Or the doors and the Jeon’s symbol painted in silver on each door, or the way the handles reflected their polished shine against the light that flooded in rays of gold through the windows.

You had never been somewhere so refined. All you had ever known was the wild untamed beauty of nature, mountains and thickets of evergreen and streams that clashed with marshes. Sleeping out in the woods were galaxies formed in the sky, where you could even see speckles of stardust in the sky. You didn’t realize two things could be so different, yet so beautiful in their own way.

“Here you are Sir Kim! His royal Highness will be with you in a moment!” She curtsied once more before shutting the doors of the room. The room was spacious and wide, it appeared to be...an office of some sort? Your brows furrowed a little as you walked in, the fireplace was not lit up but there were four chairs, two on either side of a rug that was placed in front of it.

Then there was the desk on the far end of the room next to a large window that overlooked the woods near the castle.

On the other end of the room was an assortment of trinkets of...personal achievements maybe? You perked at the sound of footsteps padding down the hallway gently, “There’s something wrong…!” Your brows furrowed and your head tilted like a puppy at the sound of a soft feminine voice, they must’ve been at the far end of the hallway, walking closer to the door you tried to listen better.

“Shh, worry not my love. I’ll deal with it. Right now you should be attending your lessons. I promise nothing will happen.” The other voice was deep yet soft, alluring in dulcet quiet manner, yet seemed attentive and in demand for everyone's attention, “I’ll discuss everything with Blood Moon’s leader.”

You could hear a faint sigh, “Please Jungkook...I...I don’t know what I’d do if this turns out to be true.” You felt your face immediately burn in embarrassment.

You just eavesdropped on the Vampiric Prince’s private conversation with his mate!

You whirled away from the door as you fumbled to sit down next to Namjoon who looked at you curiously, “Heard something you shouldn’t have?” You scowled at his teasing words as you crossed your arms. Namjoon had been scolding you recently on your nosey habit of using your one good ability to your advantage far too often.

The door opened quietly as your gaze immediately followed the noise. You were met with a tall man, who just like everyone else in Arestella was undoubtedly beautiful, but even then. Prince Jungkook seemed unnaturally beautiful, his dark raven hair contrasting heavily against his glossed pristine pale skin, his hair hung low on his face and one side tucked behind his ear giving him an oddly regal look.

A smile graced his lips as he bowed while you and Namjoon stood up, “It’s good to see you again Namjoon,” His voice, confirmed the same dulcet tone you heard in the hallway before his eyes turned to look at you, they were a deep burgundy red not at all the bright red that Namjoon’s eyes usually glowed, “You must be his new mate. You have my congratulations.”

You gave an awkward smile, feeling your face heat up at someone so beautiful staring directly into your soul as you fumbled with your fingers, a noise escaping you that made you all the more embarrassed as you hid somewhat behind your mate, “She’s a little shy,” Namjoon smiled endearingly down at you, a hand affectionately combing through your hair as you glared with a pout at the ground, “This is Y/n, my mate. You may call her Luna. She’s just here to observe today in case she needs to come in my place in the future.”

Jungkook nodded before taking a seat across from you both as you sat down once more, “Then let’s start. We’ve been getting a heavy influx of demonic energy on the south side of Incúrsio. I’m aware you’ve had some tension with them in the past but it’s different this time. Despite the Ceremony’s passing they’re experiencing mass hysteria saying it’s the end of the world. After doing a little bit of poking…” Jungkook sighed, shutting his eyes as you sensed a vague annoyance fill him, “I found out there’s a reason why.”

Namjoon tilted his head in observation, you had never seen his expression so quizzical before but then again you had never seen Namjoon in such an important meeting, “And that is?”

“A...friend,” Jungkook offered a weak smile, “Has told me there’s been a bit of, descent in the underworld if you will...One of the Prince’s of Hell, in his words was: ‘Throwing a tantrum’ and to ‘not worry about it’,” Jungkook looked semi exasperated as you furrowed your brows, “But despite his words we’ve been getting reported demon sightings and if a portal to Hell has been weakened for any demon strong enough to push through the traversing barrier we’re going to have a problem. He said he’d take care of it but...I have some doubt.” Jungkook sighed.

Namjoon frowned as he rested his chin against his head, “So what do you want Blood Moon to do about it?”

“I want you to keep an eye out of any demonic energy, I know you’re a nomadic group and you travel all over the realm...Said friend, assumes it’s only the portal in Incúrsio but...Given the reports I’ve received from other royal officials in other Kingdoms, it doesn’t seem like it. And please, ignore the people of Incuriso should you go back to your homestead meanwhile. They’re unwell right now and cannot think straight.” Jungkook answered, his gaze looking out the window into the wilderness were the tree’s swaying with the wind delicately.

“We’ll do what we can, but if Incúrsio tries to attack my people. I can’t make any promises Jungkook.” Namjoon hummed as he leaned back in his seat, “But I will do what I can to defuse the situation should it arise. Is that all?”

“For now,” Jungkook replied, fixing the cuff of his sleeve before glancing back up, “But you’re staying the next few days for a reason. Please make yourselves comfortable in the palace. I expect to see you both at dinner.” You nodded as you and Namjoon stood up making your way for the door, “Luna,”

You paused at the deep voice of Jungkook as he called out, “A word please?” You glanced at Namjoon as you frowned, he gave a small smile encouragingly, stroking your hair once before exiting the room, closing the door behind him as you timidly turned around. Something about the Vampiric Prince put you on guard, though you were positive it was simply due to just how intimidatingly attractive him and his kin were.

You got an oddly seductive, yet dangerous energy from any vampire you had came into contact with since arriving to Arestella, Jungkook wasn’t an exception, “Please, don’t look so timid,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile as he folded his hands as if to appear non threatening, “I just wanted to speak to you for a moment. Much like my own mate, everyone has been awaiting Namjoon to find his other half. I wish you the best of luck on becoming Blood Moon’s Luna.”

He stood up, elegantly walking up to you, eyes dark like pools of the blood yet there was nothing dangerous or malicious about them, “If you’re ever in need of a place to stay Arestella’s doors will always be open to you. My kingdom would be happy to serve Blood Moon’s Luna in any need or situation. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

Tugging on a strand of your hair you managed a tiny smile as you glanced up at him, “Thank you, it’s appreciated.”

To that Jungkook offered a dazzling smile that showed off the sharp teeth of his fangs, his smile could put nearly anyone to shame as he chuckled, walking to his desk as he hummed, “You should meet my mate while you’re here. I feel like you’d both get along rather well. And she’s often lonely these days. The court,” You could see the dismay in Jungkook’s eyes as he stood in front of the large window by his desk, “They aren’t accepting of commoners like her. She doesn’t like to worry me but I can tell she struggles by herself when I’m unable to keep her company. She could use a friend to confide in.”

You swallowed thickly as you managed a smile, nodding, “Of course! I’ll make sure to introduce myself if I get a chance.” It felt like an incredible honor to have the crowned Prince of Arestella ask if you could keep his mate company but you’d try your best.

You just didn’t know who she was outside of the news you had heard. Despite being in isolation word eventually made its way to your pack that the Vampiric Prince had found his mate, but not only his mate, but a commoner at that.

Many in your pack sneered at that and often laughed, someone of low ranking suddenly becoming the mate of someone powerful? Unheard of.

You felt a vague sense of empathy, you were in the same position as the Princess at one time. Except your new pack were very accepting of you...You supposed the same could not be said for the future Princess of Arestella, you couldn’t imagine how snide the Court must’ve truly been.

“I’ll see you later then.” Jungkook offered you one last small smile before you left his office, closing the door gently before you noticed Namjoon waiting down the hallway, his eyes set on the artwork that displayed on the walls.

“Finished?” Namjoon hummed as he glanced over to you, a hand falling to your head to pat it as you pouted a little as you nodded, “Then come along, they prepared lunch for us. What did Jungkook want to talk to you about?”

You tilted your head, his tone rather strange. It sounded as if he was trying to come off relaxed but there was a tense note in his delivery. But then it struck you, most werewolves were naturally jealous of their mate associating with the opposite sex, alpha’s no doubt.

You felt a teasing smile tug on your lips as you snickered, “Nothing, he just wanted to ask if I could speak to his mate, to become friends with her. Despite having similar class systems, it seems the court is rather….Icy about her becoming one of them.”

“That’s not too big of a surprise,” Namjoon wrapped an arm around you, keeping you snug against him as he continued, “Royal court is always filled with people who look down their noses at one another. Civilization is an odd sort but they make it work. I’m sure his mate does feel lonely. I’d hate to be a commoner entering the court. Many are wolves disguised as sheep.”

You tilted your head in thought, that was often an analogy humans used to describe people who pretended to be innocent when they were truly guilty. You supposed you could see what he meant by his words despite feeling as though wolves really weren’t all that bad, “It’s just odd. I can’t imagine being in that position.”

“Well the good news is that you aren’t.” Namjoon pressed a kiss against the top of your head making you smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist, nudging his arm a little, a silent ask for affection, “And we don’t have to deal with any kind of courts fickle business.”

Namjoon immediately complied, his hands stroking your sides as you paused in your spot, preening at his pet against your skin and the way his lips peppered against your cheeks, “You look like a little pup my omega.” He whispered, a small smirk on his face as he nipped the tip of your nose, “Always whining and begging for affection, always greedy for more.”

You stretched your neck a little at the feeling of his nose rubbing against your neck, a surprised whine escaping you at the feeling of his scent gland suddenly knocking against you, “You smell like vampire.” Namjoon growled against your ear, a whine escaping you as you tugged on his loose button up shirt, “When you should smell like me instead.”

He nipped your ear in warning to be quiet as he rubbed his scent gland along your neck. It was in your nature to be obedient, standing completely still as you allowed Namjoon to continue to scent you. Often a gesture done right before mating or simply a display of dominance.

“Are you wet little omega?” Namjoon growled in your ear quietly making a pathetic whimper escape you, your thighs squeezing together as you lowered your gaze in embarrassment. Of course he could smell your heady scent, “Do you like being reminded of who you belong to?”

His voice was deep and murmured in your ear causing you to tug on his shirt as he rubbed his scent gland one last time on your neck, “Come on, let’s get lunch. I’m sure you’re starving.” Your lips parted in almost offense at the way Namjoon suddenly pulled away, obviously satisfied with his work as you now were drenched in his scent and panties dripping wet.

“What?” Namjoon tilted his head innocently but you could see that evil glint in his eyes that enjoyed watching you squirm as you glared at him, pulling away from him with a pout as you crossed your arms, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” Namjoon lovingly stroked your hair as he kept his arm loose around you as you began walking once more.

This man was going to be the absolute death of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The flecks of concern were apparent in Namjoon’s eyes as he frowned, sitting up in bed as he was preparing to attend another meeting with the Prince and his order of knights. His hand gently resting on your head, thumb soothingly swiping over your warm skin as you nodded, yawning a little as you tried curling closer to his body.

You looked rather pitiful truthfully, stretching your arms out to him as a verbal whine escaped you, wanting his affection once more as he smiled endearingly, “Sorry little omega,” Namjoon cooed as he brushed your hair from your eyes, “I have to attend this meeting. I’ll come back once it’s finished and then we can stay in bed for as long as you’d like.”

Your body trembled a little, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down your forehead as you whined again, “Do you really have to go?” You mumbled, your head laying in his lap as his fingers tenderly stroked through your hair lovingly. You weren’t sure what it was but you had woken up in the middle of the night feeling hot and you had since been clinging to Namjoon. All you did know was you felt much needier than normal for affection.

You didn’t want your mate to leave.

“It sounds pretty important,” Namjoon leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead before frowning, “You’re burning up. I knew that cold rain was going to catch up to you.” He sighed with a tut as you offered a weak smile, letting your arms wrap around his waist as he shifted in his seat, “I’ll send a maid to make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone. Now c’mon on little omega, I need to go before I’m late.”

You let out a louder whine, the innate need for your alpha to be by your side running through your veins as you curled against him. You could feel sweat dripping down your collar bones as you nudged your nose against his stomach.

Namjoon looked a little guilty as he pried your hands off him, tears welling in your eyes as you whined again curling up in bed as your body trembled once more, “Shhh, I’ll be back sweetheart. Hopefully your fever will have gone down a little by the time I do.”

Namjoon let go of your figure as you weakly cried out, collapsing against your pillow as you whimpered unable to speak at the way your wolf was crying out in desperation for your mate to not leave you. The door closed gently as your body continuously began to tremble and with shaky hands you tied up your hair as you began shedding your clothes.

You were so hot. Another whine escaped you as you laid down back in bed, a violent tremor sounding through your body and your muscles were beginning to lock and clench as you groaned. A few minutes later a knock gently sounded at the door before a maid appeared inside.

She gave you a sympathetic smile, “The Alpha told me what was going on, I have some cool rags to help with the fever miss, we’ve sent a maid to get you a tonic to help cool you off.” She explained gently as she kneeled down, bless her heart as she gently placed the cool cloth over your forehead as you tried to suppress the whine from your lips.

Your wolf was just about as pathetic as you right now, howling and crying at her mate leaving her. The rag was quickly to dry up as the maid gently patted your collarbones down as she frowned, “You feel much hotter than most with a fever, are you sure you don’t have any other ailments?”

Your lips trembled for a moment as you thought about it. Abruptly you stiffened as your thighs clenched together, the sticky feeling of arousal making another whimper force its way out of your lips, “I’-I’m okay! It’s um….It’s just a...wolf thing…” You forced a smile as you clenched your thighs together, the maid frowned not understanding your words before she sighed, “Very well, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” You nodded rapidly, trying to ignore the itch to let your hands furiously get to work.

You groaned as the door shut, trying to squeeze your thighs shut as if it would make it any better. Most humans and vampires alike may have derived the word Mate from werewolves but...your nature was still a mystery to them. Your long delayed heat included.

Your body had been in survival mode for so long that your heat hadn’t come in a long time, you never expected for it to come so early. No wonder you had felt so needy for your mates attention.

A whine escaped you once more as you flopped on your stomach, burying into the mattress before your hips immediately began rubbing into the bed in desperate need of friction, heat was suffocating you and pain was beginning to well in your lower body.

Omegas were truly the worst off with monthly heats whereas Beta’s only experienced them every three months and once every six months for Alpha’s. Over all being an omega truly was miserable. You had forgotten all about your heat after your body kicked into survival mode causing you to miss.

It made sense for it’s return though, you had met your mate, you not only were safe but you were taken care of and pampered. Your heat suddenly showering up was like your body telling you it was time to get pregnant. Your thighs began trembling at the idea of your mate, your alpha mounting you and filling you with his big knot.

You buried your face into the pillow as you whined, it didn’t matter how pathetically you humped the bed it wasn’t a replacement for what you craved. What your body needed and why arousal was seeping from your tiny hole and walls that squeezed around nothing at the idea of your alpha’s cock filling you up to breed you.

Just the idea of Namjoon’s scent was making you nearly delirious as your hips desperately rocked into the mattress once more, the strength of your heat intensifying with each moment before all you could do was tremble and whine against the bed, desperately looking for anything to help the pain. The mattress, the pillows, your fingers, anything.

Two hours.

That was how long Namjoon’s meeting took. Two hours before your ears perked up at the sound of the familiar footsteps, your wolf's tail was practically flying back and forth and crying out in need. Another wave of heat filtered through your body making sweat drip down your neck as you shakily sat up. The door quietly opened as Namjoon walked in, locking it behind him before he turned to face you.

His expression turned to sympathy that had you whining and whimpering, too weak to stand up but if you could you’d already be climbing up his tall figure, “Oh my little omega,” His voice was deeper than usual, a growl vibrating in his chest causing arousal to slide down your thighs as he slowly approached, “I could smell you all the way from the staircase.”

Your thighs felt weak at the way he stood in front of the bed looking down at you dauntingly as you fumbled against the bed, “Alpha,” You whined, lowering your gaze subserviently as you stumbled against the sheets, getting on all fours before presenting yourself for him your thighs shaky and pain coursing through you as you whimpered, “Please. Alpha it hurts.”

“Does it hurt omega?” Namjoon’s voice was growled and dominance seeped in his tone as you flinched at the feeling of his hand resting on the swell of your ass, “Do you need your alpha to stuff you full of his knot?” You jump with a cry at his hand slamming against your ass with a sting, tears pricking at your eyes as your hips impatiently backed against him.

A snarled growl left his lips as your cunt was met with the thick length of his cock hardened in his pants before his hands roughly grabbed your hips, “Be patient little omega,” His hands gripped your hips harshly and the smell of his scent wafting through the room was making you light headed as another drop of arousal seeped from your needy cunt, “Do you need your alpha to fill you? Do you need my pups little one? Do you need to be bred like a good little bitch?”

It was taking every ounce of energy to not needily drag yourself against his hips as you cried out with a frustrated whine, “Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy! I’ll take care of our pups! Please.” You needed to be filled with his cum.

Namjoon was filled with both arousal and his primal instincts running wild at the sight of you so subservient and pliable in his hands, your smell was thick and heady in the air causing a growl to escape his lips again, “Oh will you?” Namjoon growled softly, his cock throbbing his pants as his hands stroked against your soft ass, his hand dragging down before cupping you’re wet cunt as you whined.

Your toes curled as your hips began to frantically grind against his fingers, “Ah-ah! Alpha...!” Namjoon tutted, gripping your hips with his free hand as you whimpered against the sheets, your eyes filling with tears at the way your body burned and yet your mate was still teasing you, “You need to be patient little one.” Namjoon growled with a tease in his tone, his long slim fingers dragging against your wet folds as you whined, your back arching once more to try and coax him to give you what you wanted.

Instead his fingers only dragged down to meet your tender swollen clit, a cry escaping your lips as your walls clenched around nothing but air, “You’re so wet my little omega, do you need your alpha’s cock inside you,” Namjoon moaned his fingers circling and pressing against your sensitive sensitive bud as his eyes became lidded with desire watching the way you pitifully jolted and jerked to stay still for him.

Your muscles tensed before your hips began rubbing against his fingers, “What did I say?” Namjoon let out a low growl making you whine once more. His hand was not so light anymore as he struck your ass making you whimper before obediently stilling for him once more to do whatever he pleased.

His fingers dragged up your folds before you squeaked against the mattress as his finger pushing slowly into you, a second finger slid in with just as much ease due to your excessive arousal as you whimpered, “Alpha! Please! I need it! I need it please!” You begged with a sob as his fingers began jamming against your g-spot, your walls squeezing around him impossibly tight as your lips parted and your eyes snapped shut. This wasn’t at all a replacement for what you needed but it still felt amazing. You just needed more.

“You’re squeezing around me so tight little omega,” Namjoon cooed mockingly, you could practically hear the smirk on his face as his fingers began giving little thrusts as you felt drool dribbling against your chin, “How much do you need my cock bitch?” He growled, grabbing your hair as he yanked it, a gurgled cry escaped you as he pushed his fingers inside you once more.

Your hips unable to stay still anymore immediately began fucking yourself against him as you moaned and whined, his finger pads dragging along that little spongy spot as you gurgled, “Please! Alpha!” You could hardy formulate words as tears dropped down your face pleasure was twisting in your body yet it still wasn’t enough.

Namjoon let go of your hair to dive between your legs, his fingers dragging along your clit making you nearly cry out at the way your walls clenched around his fingers and the orgasm flooding through you. Your lips were parted and frantic cries escapes you as you rutted messily against his fingers, “Alpha!” Your cries were pathetic as the burning in your body only strengthened at the realization there wasn’t a knot filling your cunt.

Namjoon clacked his tongue at the sound of your pitiful sobs, your walls unbearably tight around his fingers and your hips attempted to back against him as he pulled them out of you, “My pretty omega,” He cooed softly, “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill your little cunt with my pups?”

His hands stroked against your sides as your legs violently shook while frantically nodding, “I’ll be a good mommy! Alpha please! Please! Need your knot! Please!” Your back arched harshly as you presented your cunt for him, desperately hoping he’d give you what your body was crying for.

Your head was becoming foggy and the need for something, anything to fill you with a knot became your number one need. Namjoon as if sensing you couldn’t take anymore teasing began to undone the knot of his pants, “You’ll be a good little bitch and carry my pups? You’ll let your alpha breed you like a good girl.” Namjoon let out a soft moan, his eyes closing as his cock sprung free, bobbing in the air in search for your cunt as his hands dragged against your waist, roughly petting down your sides as you whined at his praise.

Your body tensed and swelled with excitement as you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of his thick bulbous tip dragging along your wet slit as another deep growl left him, “Be a good girl and stay still.” You were whining against the sheets as his bulbous tip pushed inside you, the pain hardly even there as your heat had caused you to become dripping. Unlike humans you were made to be pounded into.

“Alpha! Alpha please!” You whined, your eyes shut tightly as you strangled a mewl while keeping your body obediently still. You could hear a low growled moan from Namjoon as he pushed his cock further inside you, your cunt eagerly letting him slide in further.

“Mmm so tight,” He leaned down as he growled against your ear making you squeak as your walls tightened around him, “My little omega likes presenting her cunt doesn’t she? Does she like to be fucked hard and knotted?” You didn’t get the chance to answer before Namjoon’s hips were slamming into you, his cock fixing the ache of your cunt as you moaned embarrassingly loud as your face pressed against the mattress.

Pleasure was immediate as you cried out, moans escaping you as your walls needily clenched around his cock, “Alpha!” You whined before squealing against the mattress at the feeling of his long fingers pressing into your tender swollen clit. You whimpered as pleasure welled hotly inside you, your body needy for him after denying your consummation for so long. Your body was being lurched with every powerful thrust of Namjoon as he growled, “That’s it omega, milk your Alpha’s cock, mmm that’s it. You want your alpha’s knot don’t you?”

“Yes please! Please! I’ll be a good girl.” You whined not having the energy to do anything but stay obediently in place as his massive cock continued splitting your cunt with every thrust, just feeling his thick length was causing your head to spin and your pleasure spiking as you mewled, “Alpha y-your so big…! Alpha please.”

Your hips kept trying to buck into him causing a low snarl to escape him, Namjoon sounded nearly primal compared to his gentle level headed manners, hand large hands tightly gripping your hips and forcing them still as you whined in impatience your body craved his knot badly but you had heard Alpha’s don’t knot as quick as Beta’s.

“Be patience bitch.” Namjoon growled, his hands would certainly leave bruises later as his hips slammed into you to sate your needy cunt, he growled in pleasure at feeling your tiny walls trap his throbbing cock, “Gonna have my pups, fill your cunt up until your tummy is filled with my pups.” You whined as your body jolted, walls clenching harshly at his cock roughly sliding in and out of you, your heat craving his knot as your thighs trembled in anticipation.

“Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy.” You whined and whimpered, your back aching from it’s uncomfortable arch but your ass perking, wanting the perfect angle for his knot. Namjoon’s fingers roughly rubbed into your clit only making your walls that much tighter as his hips snapped harshly into yours, his chest pressing into your back as he growled into your ear, “That’s right little omega you’re going to have my pups. Mine.”

Your thighs were beginning to tremble at the feeling of his base swelling, “You’re going to be an obedient bitch and take my knot.” He snapped, his hand tangling into your hair to yank it only to shove your face into the soft mattress as his hips rammed into you at an unnatural speed.

Your moans and cries were muffled as your walls began to rapidly convulse, the feeling of his thick fat cock ramming into your tiny walls, his fingers rubbing roughly into your clit. His rough manhandling. You were like a howling pup when your orgasm snapped in your body, whines and whimpers escaping you as Namjoon growled, his scent was overwhelming and he leaned down snapping his hips as he continued rutting into you, his fangs dragging over your neck before he sunk them deep into your neck.

A loud whimper escaped you, your cunt clenching around him harder as all of your sense overwhelmed you, you couldn’t smell anything but firewood and cedar, his cock only making your orgasm that much better as he dragged it past your g-spot with each stroke as he marked you.

The base of his cock was swelling rapidly and dominant pheromones were rolling off his body as he growled and snapped at your obedience, still riding the high of your orgasm as your body was jolted and tossled by his hips which were roughly smacking against yours before you heard a choked moan escape him. Letting his cock fully rest in you as you muffled a whine against the mattress.

Tears stung your eyes at the feeling of his knot, it was massive and plugged up your small hole as you felt the first burst of hot cum stream from his cock, nobody ever told you that your hormones were running so crazy that you’d cum just from him cumming. But here you were letting out the most embarrassing cries and squeals in pleasure and it was like your orgasm was tenfold at being filled up by your Alpha.

Spit was dripping into the bed as you let out the lewdest moans, your hips grinding against his cock that was completely stuck inside you, a snappy growl escaped Namjoon as he released your neck from his mouth, his cock hyper sensitive yet your needy grinding earned the second spurt of cum from his knot , “Stop that you needy little bitch.” Namjoon snarled in command, your walls split open by his massive cock yet they were still so tight around him. His cum was like euphoria for you. Making your head spin and your body nearly black out in pleasure as your hips kept trying to grind against him for more.

Namjoon snapped again as he grabbed your hips making you cry out with a whine, walls needily clenching around around him earning a third load of his seed as you moaned pathetically, your knees trembling but your body was begging for more. Taking pity on your trembling desperate figure Namjoon let his fingers return to your clit nearly making you scream as you whine against the sheets, “That’s right little omega.” Namjoon purred against your ear, “Let them all know who you belong to.”

You were trying your best to be still, you really were. Tears pricked at your eyes as he let his fingers circle over your swollen bud, your walls harshly clenching around him earning a low growl, “Keep milking my cock baby. You’re gonna be such a good mommy.” Namjoon nipped against your ear as you whimpered. You were in absolute bliss, being stuffed full of his knot, his fingers playing with your clit while filling you with his seed.

Your inner wolf was howling in ecstasy. The pleasure was so much you weren’t sure when it happened but your vision began to spot before darkening altogether.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better Luna.” Your cheeks burned at the Prince’s well meaning comment as you gave a timid smile, trying not to think about just why you had gotten ‘sick’ according to the rest of the court. Namjoon’s nose nudging against your neck as you curled into your seat. Your heat would have been unbearable had it not been for your mate, but Namjoon had taken care of you the whole week and…

You couldn’t say for sure but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before a pregnancy was announced. You couldn’t say for sure, omega’s weren't easy to impregnate but, surely after being knotted for a week straight by an Alpha...Just the idea of little pups running around had you nearly bouncing in your seat, “Oh, thank you Your Highness, I’m feeling much better.” You nudged back against Namjoon, eliciting a small growl in your ear from him as he straightened up a little.

A large hand stroked against your hair as Namjoon spoke up, “Thank you for letting us stay, we’ll be heading out later this evening to unite with the pack, I’m sure they’re all ready to begin our journey back to our territory.”

Jungkook offered an easy smile as he nodded, long locks of raven hair shielding his eyes briefly with the movement as he replied, “I’m sure, wolves have always had the tendency to be nomadic in nature. I just have one request for you.” Namjoon raised his brows in curiosity as the Prince looked to his mate, a gentle encouraging smile on his lips as if trying to coax her to speak.

She withered a little, looking away in reservation as she mumbled, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jungkook’s hand squeezed against hers in confirmation as she took a breath in resignation before glancing between you both, “I’m...looking for someone...A powerful witch, they say she lives north, I don’t expect you to look for her, but if you were to stumble across one such as herself, please send her to me, directly.”

You tilted your head in confusion before you glanced at Namjoon, witch of the north...? Was this the same witch the scout from the Sisterhood was looking for? You could see the a mixture of desperation and resignation in the Princess’s eyes as she glanced back at the table, her hands folded as Jungkook tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear with soft eyes, “Pardon my words but,” Everyone’s attention was on you as you tilted your head, didn’t Namjoon say the royal court enforced these rules more then anyone? “Isn’t witchcraft punishable by death…?”

A tense air took over the table and it seemed your words were confirmed, while you didn’t live in any kingdom, you had known just as well as anyone else witchcraft was against nearly every kingdom's law. Jungkook bowed his head, as if in understanding of your confusion, “It is, which is why we ask you to keep this between the both of you. We’re looking for someone dear to my mate, but the only way we can possibly find closure is through magick. Please don’t go out of your way or put yourselves in danger for this.”

Namjoon nodded in understanding though keeping what he had previously talked to you about a secret, “Of course, we’ll keep a lookout if we come across anyone with that sort of power.”

“Thank you.” The Princess offered a small smile before letting her gaze drop back to her plate, the conversation between the Prince and Namjoon picking up once more with any last minute details of what to look out for.

After your private dinner with the crowned Prince and future Princess you had made your way out of the palace. While you would miss the plush beds and elaborate meals you wouldn’t lie in saying you were glad to be out of the bustling city and into the open air where your new pack greeted you with open arms.

Taking a long sniff of the fresh air you curled up against Namjoon where the big bonfire was, everyone conversed and celebrated another fruitful picking to eat well. Namjoon’s arms wrapped around you as he nudged against your neck, a smile on his lips as he hummed, “Should we tell the pack?”

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you looked up at the man who had become your whole life, shaking your head as you let out a breathy laugh, “No, I’d rather not tell them until we know for sure.”

Pressing a kiss into your neck Namjoon flirted, “We’ll give it two weeks.” You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned against him, his hands tenderly stroking your stomach as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t wait to begin the journey to a new land once again and experience everything with your mate in hand.

#bts #bts au #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #alpha!namjoon #werewolf!bts

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moronic-validity · 3 years ago

Note

Okey so I saw that ur requests where up?if not then I won’t take offence to you ignoring this I can be dumb sometimes😅

Anywho! If you wouldn’t mind of course could I get Asa Emory with a delinquent M!S/O? Idm what else you do with it I just love the idea of someone who would like punch Asa and not bat an eye and clashes with dominance I guess?

Thank you!!🥰

Hi Asa Nonnie! I decided to goa bit...off with it and I broke the reader! Well, Asa did.

This is a 2k fic, I was going to make it longer... If y'all want a part 2, let me know!

Warnings: Canon-typical ish violence! Just a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome, maybe more self preservation than anything else.

This fic is not 18+, but I will say it’s like...not completely sfw

You knew this guy had a PhD and owned a fairly lucrative fix-it company.

You hoped this guy had some work equipment you could take to the pawn shop.

You had been watching the house for about a week, making note of his comings and goings, assuring yourself that he lived alone. This man functioned on a tight schedule and you could map it down to the minute. There was only one thing that caught you off guard.

He didn’t have a security system.

It almost threw you off his house.

Almost.

You waited until he left for the night, somewhere around 8 p.m. He wouldn’t be back for hours. You knew as long as you were quiet, his neighbors wouldn’t even blink. He even left his garage open.

This guy really is clueless, you thought to yourself, nearly wanting to laugh at the man, this is going to be a piece of cake.

Asa drove off down the block. He was going to give you about 45 minutes to get into his home and begin your search for loot. He checked his watch and tapped his steering wheel impatiently. He wanted to save himself the effort of replacing his windows or locks and left the garage door open for you.

You walked in, careful to not make too much noise. His house was absurdly pristine, if you didn’t know someone lived there, you’d have assumed it was a model home. You wandered towards the bedrooms and took care to step over the wire on the floor. You had no idea what it was attached to, but the last thing you needed was to knock something over.

Asa parked on the curb across from his house. He hummed to himself, happy to see your nondescript grey car with the conveniently missing tags still parked in his garage, out of view from his neighbors.

So smart, he thought to himself, yet far too careless.

Asa nodded to a passing neighbor, a greeting exchanged as the other continued their walk.

Once he was in his garage, he pulled on his gloves and mask. He entered his house silently, not wanting to alert the would-be thief. He watched as you entered his room and touch his bed.

You had to marvel at the impeccable condition this man kept his house in. You ghosted your fingers along the sheets of his bed. They were high quality, you assumed. Higher quality than you had ever owned. You looked across the room, unaware of the man approaching from behind until he was within arm’s length. You planted your feet, twisted, and threw a punch with your entire body weight behind it.

Asa wasn’t expecting you to hit him.

Asa certainly wasn’t expecting it to hurt the way it did.

The fight that ensued left both of you bloody, but while you seemed tired, the other man seemed excited. Almost thrilled to have someone to beat the shit out of.

He had backed you out into the hall, and this time, you weren’t careful, and you tripped over the wire you had intentionally avoided the first time. The rug on the floor came up and enveloped you, blacking out everything.

It was a trap.

This man had booby trapped his house.

You thought about the predictable schedule, the lack of a security system, and the open garage door.

This was never an easy score, not for you at least.

Asa chuckled to himself before finding one of his spare crates. He cut you down, dropping you and the rug into the container. You were kicking and screaming, fighting against it, but stronger people had put up better fights, and still wound up added to his collection. You were no different, though definitely more amusing.

He took off his mask and gloves and headed towards his bathroom. He prodded at the growing bruise and shook his head. You had landed a few good shots. His lip was split, there was the bruise forming along his left cheek and up along his brow, he knew his knuckles were split and that if he had bothered to check, his ribs were probably bruised.

He carefully cleaned his lip and knuckles before returning his attention to where you were stored on the floor.

He had plans for you.

He dragged the crate out into his driveway, once again acknowledging one of his neighbors. They exchanged pleasantries as you attempted to rock the box over.

“Feisty ones this time Asa?” His neighbor joked, looking at the trunk.

You nearly froze. Was this a regular occurrence? Did this guy just...kidnap people?

“Only a little bit,” Asa said with a happy sounding sigh, “I’ve been lucky enough to study him alone for roughly a week now, just time to take him back to where he belongs.”

“Seems like he doesn’t want to go,” his neighbor laughed, “Need some help loading him up?”

You screamed, but it was muffled. You felt yourself being lifted and before long, you were set down and slid until you hit a wall.

You heard a door shut.

Before long, the vehicle was moving. You were folded in an uncomfortable position and every time he took a turn, you slid until you hit another panel of the van.

You had to shut your eyes to avoid getting motion sick.

Once the van was parked, he hauled the trunk along with him.

You had no idea where you were, but you knew as soon as he opened the crate, you were going to start swinging.

You tried to map the turns he took so you could get out of the building, but after the eighth or ninth turn, you were lost.

Finally, he set you down. You could hear him doing something across the room.

Then he unlatched the case.

You tumbled out, clumsily finding your footing. Your vision was swimming, but you attempted to punch your kidnapper anyway. Asa dodged it with ease and shoved you.

You fell then scrambled back to your feet, setting up to tackle him.

Asa stepped to the side and watched you run into the floor. He smiled. He was going to have fun with this. He walked over to your still recovering form, pulled the waist band of your pants down, and stuck you with the needle he set up before letting you out. Nothing more than a mild paralytic. He wanted you awake for this.

You were numb. You couldn’t lift your arms or legs if you tried, and you did. You felt him lift you up and place you on a table that you didn’t even realize was in the room. He picked up your arm and started an IV. You could see the stand in your peripheral. You hoped to God that it was just saline.

Asa picked up a pair of trauma shears off the counter and cut away your pants and shirt. He had to make sure that he hadn’t damaged his newest toy. He noted that your chest was covered in bruises, but other than one that looked particularly dark, he was sure you were going to be fine.

You cold tell it was cold and you felt your clothes being pulled away. You’d cover yourself if you could move your arms.

Asa considered his options. He could easily skin you if he wanted to. Use you for a new addition to his prized collection.

But you were interesting.

Interesting didn’t come along every day.

He checked his watch. You probably had another three or four hours until the paralytic wore off. He covered your body with a blanket and sat down, watching and waiting until you were moving again.

Your eyelids were so heavy and the blanket he covered you with was so warm. Despite the fear you felt, you couldn’t help yourself falling asleep.

You woke up to your IV being tugged. You turned your head and regarded the man carefully. You didn’t want to swing on him and wind up getting drugged again, but you also didn’t want to stay here. He wasn’t unattractive and frankly speaking, in any other situation, that didn’t start with robbery and end with a kidnapping, you probably would’ve asked him out for coffee.

“Asa, right?” Your voice was hoarse, he looked at you like he was trying to figure out how he wanted to pin you to the wall, “What do you want with me?”

Asa chuckled.

“What do I want with you,” he chuckled again, shaking his head, “What did you want with me? What were you hoping to steal?”

“I don’t think we can really compare the pair here,” you said, almost wanting to laugh, “Kidnapping and theft are on two different levels,”

You sat up on the table, letting the blanket fall over your lap.

Asa took a step back, his hand on the shears he used to remove your clothes.

“You’re interesting. I tend to enjoy the company of interesting people.” He answered, leaving no room for further questioning.

You two watched each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.

“Lay back down.” Asa commanded, and you laughed in his face.

“I’m not a dog,” you started, before he put his hands on your chest and forced you back down onto the table, securing you in place with straps you didn’t know were there.

It occurred to you that this was not the first time you missed the small details that gave him advantage.

“Disobey or question me again and I put you back in the box. You’ll only come out when I decide I want your company,” he tightened the straps, “Listen to me and things will be significantly easier for you.”

You acted before you thought about it. You turned your head and spit on him.

The laugh Asa let out made you regret every choice you made in the last 48 hours.

You weren’t sure how long he locked you in the trunk. You knew that everything hurt. You were sure that you’d be stuck in this uncomfortable position even after the case was opened.

Asa locked you in the box for about an hour. He had timed it. It gave him a moment to take his frustrations out on a different unfortunate soul.

Asa adjusted his clothes before reentering the room he was keeping you in. He knew there was blood on his shoes, still wet and fragrant.

He undid the straps on the case and let it fall open. You fell over, onto the floor, not bothering to get up.

Asa shook his head.

“I want you to lick my shoe.” Asa moved his shoe directly in front of your face.

“Why?” you were scared to refuse, not wanting to get put in the box again.

“Because my shoe is dirty,” he crossed his arms, “and I want you to clean it.”

You stalled. Asa bent down to drag you back into the box.

“No no no no no,” you started panicking; you stuck your tongue out and he let go of your arm. You could tell it was blood based off of scent alone and as disgusted as you were, you’d do anything on earth to avoid being shoved back in the dark.

He stood back up and watched as you started to lick his shoe with broad strokes. The tears were flowing freely down your face and Asa had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

You were broken.

It was so much easier than Asa could’ve dreamed.

He watched patiently as you cried and begged and worshiped his bloody shoe.

You had still disobeyed him.

He still locked you back in the box, crying and screaming.

He set the timer for about forty-seven minutes, not even bothering to leave the room. He sat in the chair and watched the box rattle. He watched as it stilled, and your screams turned to choked sobs. He imagined the look of resigned desperation.

His watch gave a single vibration to signal the end of your confinement.

When he opened the box this time, your first response was to clutch his leg.

Asa was amused by how little effort he had to put into breaking your will. Had you not been attractive, he would’ve considered you no longer of interest.

He shook you off his leg and walked across the room. You stayed put and watched him, looking for some signal so you didn’t make the mistake of disobeying him yet again.

He motioned for you to come and you crawled to him without a second thought. You sat at his feet and looked up at him.

“Well, isn’t that a good boy,” he stroked your cheek, thankful you had put the idea of you being his dog in his head.

You leaned into his touch.

Asa smiled and cupped your face in his hand, squeezing just hard enough for it to open your mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he said, no louder than a whisper. You obeyed and he repaid you by spitting directly onto your tongue, “Now swallow.”

For a second you considered spitting onto the floor. You didn’t want this. Not from him.

The fear of being locked in the trunk again over-rode any sense of self respect and you swallowed the mixed saliva.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

38 notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 4 years ago

Text

Between the Lines || VIII

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Me, coming out of my depression snap to drop this 😌. Introducing....Wanda! Comment to be added to taglist.

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII

PART VIII of XX

Count: 8097

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You're starting to understand how the dynamic works between the Avengers. While everyone is a star in their own way, they come together as a team seamlessly.

You look around at the chaos on the field, snickering when you hear in your earpiece of Tony making fun of Steve for saying, "language!"

"That's not going to go away soon," you hear Steve mutter.

"David, do you know how to take down the shield?" You ask.

You hear David hum.

"I don't know. There's a pathway under the north tower. Blow it up or something," You could picture David shrugging.

"Oh my god," you mutter.

"Hey, that was my idea!" Tony flippantly said as he flew towards the north tower while David hung casually from Tony's ankles.

There was so much happening on the field. Tony was sending his Iron Legion bots to help the civilians, though you doubt the civilians will appreciate it.

You were watching rather idly on the field, occasionally taking out an android or soldier. But you could hear something in the area.

Footsteps.

Footsteps that were much too fast to be a soldier or an android.

You looked at Clint, who was hiding behind a tree, pulling his arrow in his bow to try to take out a bunker. He shot the arrow, but before it could reach the person manning the bunker, someone caught it.

Clint seemed confused, but you had seen it somewhat clearly. It was shocking to you.

A blond, almost silver-haired man with a trimmed goatee and 5 o'clock shadow was...running. That was the best way you could describe it in your eyes.

To the human eye, he was a blur.

"We have an enhanced on the field," Steve notifies everyone when Clint had tried again, but the intruder had caught it, and Clint was hit by a blast in his side as he was distracted by his shock.

"Clint's hit," Natasha tells everyone else right after. "He's going to need evac."

"I'll take care of the enhanced," you let everyone know while Thor says he can take Clint to the jet.

You take off, running in the direction you saw the speedster go. It's relatively easy for you to catch up with him. He seemed to be making his way back to the base.

Even though you're a relatively older vampire, you can't seem to catch up with him completely. You're trailing behind him, but even so, that seems to surprise him.

He stops in his tracks, causing you to stop as well. He stands there before you, eyes wary as he takes you in as you try to remember everything in David's file.

Pietro Maximoff.

"What are you?" He asks, accent thick in his voice.

You cock your brow at him, "You know that's rather rude to ask a lady."

You see the slightest twitch in his lip. You take his face in more slowly this time.

There is part of him that reminds you of Tatyana, and you're sure he's her descendant.

"You're different," he comments, "but I don't remember seeing you as part of the Avengers."

"I'm really just a part-timer," you tell him.

He takes in your response. You stand still, trying to listen on the field because David's file told you there were two of them.

You don't hear anything else on the field, and when your eyes dart to the side for just a moment, Pietro smirks.

"You're fast," he says, "but you're not as fast as me."

Before you have anything else to say, Pietro takes off again. You have half a mind to chase after him, but you know it would only be a game of tag.

"Careful out there. Pietro has run off, and his sister is not in the area," you warn the team.

"We've got all the data from their systems; I'm going to head back first to process it all," David speaks back into the intercom.

You're about to take off towards the base when you hear Natasha advise they've locked down their positions and Steve telling her to get Banner.

You pause.

You know the girl, Wanda, is likely to be in the base with Tony, and you really should go because David has left, and Tony shouldn't be left alone.

But...

You turn around, running off towards Natasha.

It was a shot in the dark plan that Bruce had come up with some time ago. Bruce asked that Natasha be the one to try to bring him back since Tony would be busy handling the inside of the base, and for some reason, Natasha was the next person he thought would be able to bring him back.

Still, you were worried.

Trust or not, you know what the Hulk is capable of, and your instinct wouldn't let Natasha face that alone.

You quickly find the Hulk grunting as he walked around the snow in a secluded area. You step out quietly, undetected as you see Natasha approaching from the other side. On the outside, she appeared completely fine, but you could hear her heart trembling in her chest.

You didn't step out into view because this was for Natasha to do, and you didn't want to overstep your boundaries with Bruce, but you would intervene if necessary.

"Hey, big guy," Natasha softly said so that he wouldn't feel threatened. The Hulk growled at her, stepping towards her, and you felt your thighs tense, wanting to move forward immediately, but you held yourself.

In terms of strength, you weren't stronger than the Hulk. But your odds were definitely better than anyone else's, and your body would be more durable if he hit or threw you.

And while Natasha may be enhanced, the Hulk could accidentally kill her.

"The sun's getting real low," Natasha coos, putting her hand out in front of him as she kneels.

The Hulk scowls at her, breathing heavily. He stares at her hand, and to Natasha's credit, her hand was as still as a stone. The Hulk grunts again before he reaches his hand back out to her, flipping it over before placing the backside of his hand down onto Natasha's.

She swallows, trying to give him a reassuring smile as she strokes his hand. For a second, you think you see him relax a little.

But something shifts, and you're unsure if it's because of Natasha or because of the Hulk. Whatever it is, you sense the change immediately, watching his shoulders tense and tremble, the low grumble in his throat.

Before you know it, you're digging your foot into the ground. It goes through the snow, breaking the gravel underneath and your hand ripping off part of the tree's trunk as you burst towards Natasha.

Before the Hulk can knock Natasha into the air, you hurdle into her, rolling a couple feet away in the snow. The redhead is breathless, surprised to see you.

"What are you--" She starts to say as the two of you stand up.

"Stay here," you tell her as you blur in front of the Hulk.

Natasha feels her heart fills with fear as you stand before the Hulk. You look so tiny compared to him. The rational part of her brain knows that you're not human. You're stronger, stronger than many people out there. You're an immortal, and she's aware that only one thing can kill you.

But she can't help but feel fear because Natasha couldn't help herself from feeling it in front of the Hulk.

Natasha watches you, your mouth reared back in a snarl, and your teeth look sharp.

And then she felt it.

An invisible crackle in the air.

The hair on the back of Natasha's neck stood, and it felt like her feet were being rooted to the ground. She looks at you again, and your eyes are glowing red.

And it's the first time Natasha realizes that you are a vampire.

A predator.

Dangerous.

You look at the giant creature before you. His muscles are tensing under the pressure you're exerting.

He hasn't moved from his spot, but he's growling and roaring at you.

It's not enough, you know.

It would be nearly impossible to compel him to simply turn back.

You turn, taking a silent step, so light and quiet that it doesn't even leave an imprint in the snow. You hold your finger out, catching his attention, and the Hulk snarls at you.

Calmly, you bring the finger between your eyes, the red fading away. The Hulk follows the movement, looking right into your eyes.

Your pupils expand, looking like they've exploded into liquid tendrils.

"Relax," you command lithely.

You can see the Hulk trying to resist, but his pupils are dilating in and out. He's grunting, glaring at you, but you remain expressionless.

"Look around you," you softly say, his head turning automatically. "There's no more danger. It's just you, me, and Natasha. There's nothing to be angry at. Nothing to smash."

The Hulk looks back at you, and you still have your compulsion on.

"Relax," you tell him again.

This time, he stares longer, eyes remaining dilated.

He let out a puff of air, a small whine before he started shaking his head. Not long after, he staggered back, falling to the ground stumbling as he began to shrink, and the green started to fade.

When all was said and done, Bruce Banner lay in the snow, getting up slowly as he watched his surroundings.

You close your eyes for a moment, pupils returning to normal as Natasha starts to move towards Bruce. Your instincts still feel like they're on haywire, wanting to immediately intercept her from getting closer, but you're able to rationalize that Bruce isn't a threat anymore.

He's simply a man, with a beast sleeping inside.

Natasha gives him his clothes that he changes into behind a tree. When he comes back out, he gives you a self-deprecating smile.

"I'm guessing the lullaby didn't work?" He asks.

You shrug. "It did a little. Perhaps if it was someone you were closer to, it would've worked all the way."

A part of you felt like if you didn't monopolize Natasha's time, she would've become a good friend to Bruce.

Not to say there weren't now, but there was hardly a bond.

"How did you get me to turn back?" Bruce asks.

"Compulsion," you answer simply.

"You can compel me to turn back?" He asks, surprised, a tinge of hope in his voice.

You shake your head.

"Not exactly," you clarify. "I used compulsion to sway you into calming down. You weren't exactly on a rampage, so it made it easier."

Bruce bites his tongue but gives a sharp nod.

Right after, you hear Steve in your ear saying they've secured the scepter. The twins have escaped, but it was time to head back to the Quinjet. Bruce starts to head back first, and Natasha starts to follow, but you stop her.

She looks back at you curiously.

You can't help it.

Your instincts are going off even though you know Natasha's not in immediate danger.

You can't help but check her over, eyeing every bit of her to ensure she's not hurt. Natasha seems to know what you're doing, smiling lightly as she steps forwards into you, wrapping her arms around you.

"I'm okay," she reassures you.

You blink, momentarily surprised, but you wrap your arms around her.

"Why did you come?" She asks you. "I know you were planning to meet the twins."

You inhale her scent slowly, feeling the relief hit your system.

"Nothing," you rumble, pulling back to look at Natasha's face. "Nothing could keep me from you if there's a chance you might get hurt."

You lift your hand to cup her jaw, slowly stroking her cheek. Natasha leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she looks back at you.

Her green orbs have you captivated, and you can't help but stare into her eyes, remembering every detail of them. The tiny speckles of sun within the lush forest of her eyes have you falling for her all over.

"I want my vows to mean something with you," you mumble, leaning closer to her face, eyes dropping down to her lips.

Natasha's heart flutters as she feels her eyes closing. She grips the back of your jacket tightly between her fingers.

"Your vows?" Natasha husks.

The tip of your nose touches her, and her nose feels cold. You can see your own breath out in the cold as your lip brushes against hers.

"You're mine to protect," you say before closing the distance, pressing your lips against hers softly.

You find that her mouth is much warmer.

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You wished that Natasha would've let you take her back first class again, but she seemed to think it would be better to travel back as a team.

That being said, she was adamantly against you buy everyone's plane ticket first class.

You shifted in your seat, feeling uncomfortable in the aircraft as you watch Steve fly. It doesn't help that you can hear Bruce playing opera music through his headphones. You know it probably helps him relax, but you can't help but feel like it's doom music.

You watch as Natasha goes over to him, trying to comfort him as she turns his music off.

"Hey, the lullaby half-worked. Don't beat yourself up too much."

"Yeah," Bruce shrugs. "I just didn't expect Code Green."

"If you hadn't been there, there would've been double the casualties. My best friend would've been a treasured memory," Natasha smiles.

"You know, sometimes exactly what I want to hear isn't exactly what I want to hear," Bruce looks at her.

You resist the urge to snarl at him because you can tell it makes Natasha feel bad when her intention is to make him feel better.

"Thor, report on the Hulk?" Bruce asks, shifting his attention to the Norse God.

"The gates of Hell are filled with the screams of his victims," Thor happily shares.

You resist the urge to laugh when Bruce groans, and Natasha glares at Thor.

You catch David's eye from across the aircraft and find he's also smirking.

"Uh, but, not the screams of the dead, of course," Thor tries to backtrack. "No, no, uh...wounded screams, mainly whimpering, a great deal of complaining and tales of sprained deltoids and, and uh... and gout."

"It probably would've been worse if you weren't there," Bruce says as he looks at you, and you merely shrug.

"Can you compel me to not change or compel me to change back when I'm the Hulk?" Bruce asks, looking hopeful.

Everyone looks at you.

"Compel?" Tony asks as he squints his eyes at you.

"Out on the field. The lullaby didn't quite work as well as we thought. If she hadn't been there, I don't know what I would've done to Natasha," Bruce purses his lip in shame.

"What did you do?" Tony asks you, but Bruce cuts in.

"I don't know how to describe it," Bruce starts. "I mean, for starters, I only remember bits and pieces of it, but it was like something overcame me, overrode what the Hulk was feeling. It allowed me to change back."

You felt like you were getting an oncoming headache from this.

Tony looks at you suspiciously, and you roll your eyes.

Before you can say anything, David jumps in to explain for you.

"Every vampire has a power called Compulsion," he draws the attention to himself. "We can essential mind control humans by having them look into our eyes. It's generally not something we can use to control people forever, but it does get stronger with age, training, and diet."

"Diet?" Clint clarifies from his spot.

"Human feeders are always more powerful than vampires who choose to feed on animals. Blood bags are the halfway point," David shrugged.

You turn to look at Bruce.

"Either way, the answer is no," you tell him. "For one, it's not a power I like to use unless the situation calls for it. While you may feel that every case the Hulk is in calls for it, I don't. Secondly, I didn't compel you to change back. As I said, I only influenced you to remain calm. It's unlikely I can compel you to turn back if the Hulk's willpower overpowers mine when he's wild. Thirdly, I'm not your keeper. I'm not interested in Hulk-sitting for you if we're out on missions."

It's rather blunt, but you don't want to beat around the bush regarding this matter, lest you wanted Bruce to keep trying to convince you.

"You sound like you trust him," Bruce grumbles unhappily.

You shrug once more. "It's not about trust. He's a part of you, whether you want him to be or not. He's not going anywhere. I accept that about you. Do you?"

Silence falls over the aircraft, but you don't care. Bruce stares at you, and you quirk a brow at him.

He doesn't provide you his answer, most likely because it's a no, but tension rises.

"Anyways," Tony breaks up the quiet with his own brow cocked. "Dr. Cho's on her way in from Seoul. She's gonna set up in your lab, that okay, Banner?"

"Uh, yeah, she knows her way around," Bruce blinks.

Just like that, the rest of the ride is spent discussing the mission, the scepter, and Strucker.

At some point, Natasha comes to sit next to you. You fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to her, but you force them to remain at your side.

"Hey," she whispers, but it clear as day for you.

"Hey," you say back, smiling lightly when you feel Natasha's pinky atop of yours.

You suppose flying in the aircraft wasn't all awful.

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"How you holding up, bud?" You asked with a slight drawl that had Clint chuckling as he winced.

Dr. Cho was arguably one of the most beautiful women you've encountered, and she had a slight bite in her that made her easy to get along with.

Clint merely makes a grunt and a sequence of grumbles that get you chuckling back.

"You sure he's going to be okay? Pretending to need this guy really brings the team together," Natasha asks as she looks at Dr. Cho.

Clint playfully glares at her while she smiles innocently back at him.

Dr. Cho smiles reassuringly at the redhead. "There's no possibility of deterioration. The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous. His cells don't know they're bonding with simulacrum."

"She's creating tissue," Bruce says with amazement in his voice and eyes wide.

You're lost on the rest of the talk as you look around the room and machinery. David would know much more regarding the technology in this room, but he was currently with Tony working on the scepter.

"I hear that your venom does exactly the same thing my work does, if not faster and better," Dr. Cho says, grabbing your attention. You can tell she fascinated with you by the look in her eyes. "Would you be interested in giving me a sample of your venom or blood?"

You give her a smirk but shake your head.

"I'll have to politely decline," you tell her as everyone looks at you in the room. "While my venom is capable of healing someone, it's also capable of killing or changing someone. The last thing I want is for the wrong person to potentially get their hands on it and figure out how to activate my venom that way. On top of that, using venom has side effects."

You look at Clint, "I only use it for life or death situations on humans. Otherwise, I would've healed you on the field."

"What kind of side effects?" Dr. Cho asks.

You hum.

"Every human reacts a little differently to it. But generally, the more venom a human has in their system, they take on features of a vampire. It's very subtle," You wrap a strand of hair around your finger. "Maybe their skin gets clearer, hair gets a little shinier, they feel less hungry or even find they need less sleep. Of course, it's not forever because the venom is eventually diluted out by more blood being produced in their system if a vampire doesn't continually inject them with venom."

"That doesn't seem like bad side effects," Clint frowns.

You smile at him before you release your hair and go back to crossing your arms.

"Perhaps not, but sometimes the symptoms come in another form too. Like you're hungry, but for some reason, food just isn't hitting the spot for you."

He blinks at you.

"Are you saying..." he drags, not wanting to say it out loud as he scrunches his nose.

"That as a human, you might get the craving for blood and possibly drink it to satisfy the craving? Yes."

Clint visible shivers in disgust and gags at the thought, and you shrug with a laugh.

"That's why I prefer to not use my venom unless I have to. While everyone reacts to it differently, I try to not take the chance," you look at Dr. Cho.

"Wait, wait, wait--" Tony interrupts. "Capsicle told us you used it on Natasha."

You nod, not seeing the problem.

"Well, I highly doubt she was going to die from a gunshot wound, and there was a medic there," Tony states like it's obvious.

You tilt your head with quirk your brow. "Well, one, I was making a point of revealing I was a vampire. Secondly, I was--am attracted to her, and now I'm dating her. Her safety will always be my number one priority. I will always use my venom to heal her if she's hurt."

"That's just favoritism!" Tony shouted indignantly.

You gave him a look that just screamed, 'Yeah? Have you not been listening to me?'

Natasha let out a burst of laughter at Tony's face.

The rest of the time was spent bickering about tonight's party, and you couldn't help but catch eyes with Natasha every few minutes.

And she's looking back with you with half-lidden eyes.

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You have an unsettling feeling in your stomach, though you aren't sure why. David seems to feel the same as you can see him across the room, tapping his foot impatiently.

"What's wrong?" You say quietly, garnering only David's attention.

"I don't know," David sighs. "You know how I was looking at Tony's system and helping out with the scepter, right?"

You hum.

"Tony is trying to build some kind of protection legion for the world, but something feels off," David says quietly, barely moving his lips. "I feel like I saw something I wasn't supposed to see."

You hum again. Tony had seemed off-balance to you. He was clearing suffering PTSD from the alien invasion in New York, but then he seemed more...off after returning from the base in Sokovia. It was subtle, but he appeared to be slowly becoming unhinged to you.

"Tell me about it later," you tell David, who nods sharply.

You set off to try to enjoy the rest of the night.

"Well?"

You look over the bar as you lean over the counter. Natasha's looking absolutely delectable tonight. She had given herself a haircut before the mission, and while you somewhat missed her long hair, the short haircut was doing it for you too.

"What can I get for you, sweetheart? I think this one's on the house," Natasha flirts with you. You're barely holding your own smile as you look at her.

"I'm not sure what kind of drink I want, but I do know I want to take the bartender home. Do you think she'll let me?" You ask with an innocent look that has Natasha smirking.

"Play your cards right, and she just might."

Natasha winks at you before she has to go to the other end of the bar to help another person with their drink, but not before leaving a rum and coke for you.

You watch her saunter off, looking just delicately over her shoulder to smile at you before she focuses on the person in front of her.

"See? Told you things would work out."

You look beside you to see Steve standing there with a big ole' grin on his face.

You roll your eyes.

"Must be hard being right all the time, huh?" You joke.

"Yes," he sighs dramatically, "but it's a burden I must carry."

You both burst into laughter, and you let out a light sigh. You had missed Steve with the time apart, his friendship is so important to you. Steve is looking at you gently too, and you're happy to know he feels the same.

"Have you called Sharon?" You ask.

"Somehow, I knew you wouldn't forget that," Steve quirks his lip.

"A deal's a deal, pal," you lick your lips.

"You'll be happy to know that I did. There may be an upcoming date," he seems almost proud of himself, and you can't help but smile.

"Atta boy!" You smile as you slap him on his shoulder.

"You sound like Bucky when you say that," Steve shakes his head.

"Any leads?" You ask with a sympathetic smile.

Steve shrugs. "Sam is still chasing, but I'll catch up with that later."

"Well, let me or David know if we can be of any help."

Steve nods in thanks.

The night starts to fade in as the rest of the party gathers around the coffee table, sitting haphazardly with their drinks in hand. You're sitting on the divan couch with no sides or back, while Natasha is leaning half her body on you with a bottle of beer in hand.

Everyone's currently trying to see if they can lift Thor's hammer.

You watch as Tony and James try to pull it together, it's truly a hilarious sight to see.

You and Natasha grin as Bruce tries, even attempting to turn into the Hulk to lift it while everyone eyes him warily.

"Good attempt, big guy," you give Bruce a thumbs up.

"How about you try, Elaine?" Bruce gentlemanly gestures to the hammer, and you snort.

"No thanks, I already know I'm a piece of shit, no need for a magical home depot tool to confirm it for me," you grin, swigging back your drink to keep it light-hearted.

You feel Natasha softly brush your hand over your glove, and you turn your hand over so you can intertwine fingers.

You wish you could kiss her right now.

Steve is next in line, and Tony smirks at him.

"No pressure, cap," Tony steps aside.

Steve rolls up his sleeves and begins to pull on it.

Thor is laughing because it seems like nothing is happening.

But, ever so slightly, it budges. Thor seems to catch the movement as well as his face drops.

But the hammer doesn't move anymore after that, and Thor resumes his laughter and jolly.

"Nothing," he laughs with relief.

You chuckle lowly, Natasha feelings the vibrations against her.

"What?" She asks quietly.

You've long finished your drink, using your free hand to wrap your arm around her waist. Pulling her closer, you turn your head so that your nose is right against the top side of her head.

"One day," you whisper in her ear so that only she may hear, "Steve will be worthy."

You finish with kissing the top of her head while Natasha blinks with wide eyes, processing the information.

"Widow?" Bruce looked over at Natasha.

The surprised look on her face dissipated as she smirked, leaning more into you as she held up her beer bottle.

"Oh, no, no," she shakes her head, taking a sip of the beer, "that's not a question I need answered."

The jokes go around some more about how the hammer is rigged until Thor stands up.

He grabs and lifts the hammer with ease, tossing it in his hand.

"Yes, well, that's, uh, a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one," Thor smiles, "You're not all worthy."

Everyone groans good-naturedly, even with someone throwing some chips at Thor.

Suddenly, there's a loud screech.

Everyone hunches over as they cover their ears. With your super hearing, the screeching is even more painful to your ears.

When the noise fades, and everyone slowly gets up, you look over at David, who is staring behind you.

You turn over to see a limping...robot? Wires were hanging out everywhere, and he looked like a scrap of junk metal.

"Worthy... No... How could you be worthy? You're all killers," it slowly spoke.

"Stark," Steve called with a little bite in his tone.

"JARVIS," Tony called, but nothing replied.

"I'm sorry. I was asleep. Or...I was a-dream?" It tilted its head.

Tony pulls out his device, tapping on it as he looks like the monstrosity before them. "Reboot. Legionnaire OS. we got a buggy suit."

Nothing seems to be working even as Tony taps away.

The robot stumbles forward, tilting its head downwards. "There was a terrible noise...and I was tangled in... in...strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

"You killed somebody?" Steve asks, narrowing his eyes.

You look over to David, who is staring at the robot. He's doing his best to scan it, but you know he needs to touch it to deactivate it.

"I didn't hear anyone in this building die. Did you?" You speak fast and quiet.

"No, I think that thing did something to JARVIS. JARVIS is supposed to be the first line of defense, but JARVIS isn't responding," David spoke back.

Suddenly, you hear a playback recording of Tony saying he sees a suit of armor around the world.

"I'm starting to feel like we should've had our conversation earlier," you mumble while David scrunches his nose.

"Ultron!" Bruce calls out in realization.

"In the flesh. Or, no, not yet. Not this...chrysalis. But I'm ready. I'm on a mission," Ultron's voice stutters, but you're sure it's just the suit falling apart.

"What mission?" Natasha asks, and you can see everyone reading their guns.

Ultron looks up, his movements are stiff, but he looks back at everyone.

"Peace in our time," Ultron says before Legion bots smash through the wall and begin to attack everyone in the room.

You immediately cover Natasha, landing atop of her. You can hear guns being fired as you look back down at your girlfriend.

"You know, we've been in this position way too many times this week, and it's not for the activities I was hoping for," you half-joke. Natasha at least has the sense of humor to smirk at you before you pick her up and blur over to behind the bar.

"David, go find out what you can! I got it here, but I won't be opposed if you come back!" You shout.

"Got it!" David had taken down one of the bots before he ran out of the room. Ultron had looked his way, but David was too fast to be stopped.

"This is fun, isn't it?" You asked sarcastically.

"Considering we're being attacked by robots, I'm going to say David is carrying our fucking asses," Natasha quirks her lip at you as she readies her gun.

"I resent that," you tell her. "It's true, but I resent that."

You peek your head up, looking to gauge your situation. Everyone seemed to be trying to tackle a bot on their own. You turned back to look at Natasha, who is eyeing the stairwell over to the side.

You think it might be faster to take down Ultron, but you're not sure it will stop the bots. Not to mention, you're unsure if taking down the crickety suit that Ultron was in would even truly stop him or if he could transfer his consciousness into another bot.

You hop over the counter, immediately dodging a fire shot at you as you run at lightning speed to a legion bot, leaping in the air as you wrapped your arms around its neck, yanking it off with ease.

It immediately powers down as you crush the head into scrap metal, bolts, and screws falling onto the floor.

Natasha takes the chance to run to the stairwell, making her way up as she fires bullets at the bots, but the bullets seem to ricochet off, and you're not surprised since it was Tony who made them.

You see Steve's shield on the floor, and you roll your eyes as you run over to it and pick it up, swinging it into the neck of a bot that Clint was trying to take down.

"Thanks," Clint huffs. "I was just about to give that back to Cap."

"I'm starting to feel like a boomerang would've been better than a shield," you roll your shoulders back.

"I mean, it's got the perfect shot, apparently. It can ricochet back to him..." Clint shrugs.

"And yet, it was here on the floor."

You turn your body over.

"Steve!" You call out, grabbing his attention. He turns is head as you throw his shield towards him. "You mind giving me a lift?"

He catches his shield, bracing it against his body, angled towards the ceiling as you run towards him. He seems surprised by the speed as you leap onto the shield, and Steve propels you upward.

You use the momentum to leap onto the bot floating in mid-air. It tries to use its arm to grab you, but you grab it with brute force as you rip it off from its body. You quickly then grab the head and rip it off. It powers down and begins to fall, and you adjust your position so that your feet are in the middle of its chest, crushing the body entirely as you land on the floor.

You still see a couple half-baked bots flying around, and you sigh.

A bot catches your attention from the corner of your eye as you see one flying towards Dr. Cho. It looks like it's about to shoot at her, but it lowers its weapon for some reason instead.

You're about to go save her when you see David come in from the side, merely touching the bot, and it powers down before David punches a hole through its chest.

He turns around, smirking at you before he takes off, taking care of the rest of the bots in the same manner. It's only seconds before all the bots have been deactivated, and David comes to stand before Ultron.

"Well, that was dramatic!" Ultron tilts his head as he looks at you and David. "And who might you be? You're not part of the Avengers."

"You won't find anything about us regardless of where you look," David shakes his head. "You can't win against us. Me, in particular."

Ultron seems to pause before continuing on. "I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to...evolve?"

He picks up one of the dismembered Iron Legion bots, holding it between his hands. "With these? These puppets? What a joke."

Ultron looks straight ahead at everyone. "There's only one path to peace: The Avengers' extinction."

Thor immediately throws his hammer towards Ultron.

"Wait!" David yells, taking off after the hammer, but he's a second too late when the hammer crashes into Ultron, dismantling his body.

The lights begin to dim as he fades. As he disappears, Ultron sings his last words.

"I had strings, but now I'm free. There are no strings on me...no strings on me."

"Fuck," David sighs.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Everyone stood inside the lab, looking at the broken bot bodies, and other various things.

The scepter was gone too.

"It's all gone," Bruce sounded devasted. "Ultron cleared out everything."

"Not everything," David mussed his hair. "He's been in everything, though. Files and surveillance, he may know more about all of you than you know about yourselves. I'm surprised you keep everything on hand here with such shitty encryption."

"Hey!" Tony shouted indignantly, but David shrugged.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't catch him in time when he got dismantled. I destroyed all the bots in here so he couldn't transfer his consciousness, but he escaped into the internet. It'll take some time for me to track him down."

"He got into your files, he's in the internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?" James stood to the side with his arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Nuclear codes?" Maria realized.

"Nuclear codes," James nodded. "Looks, we gotta make some calls, assuming we still can."

David waved his hand. "I already took care of that. I got into the system, and the codes are continually being scrambled. The algorithm changes every minute. Though, I do suggest you make your calls and figure out the best way to handle that."

"You hacked the Pentagon," James said in disbelief.

"Trust me, I wouldn't have been the first," David looked unimpressed.

"That is true," Tony nods, knowing he's done it himself.

"I'll be right back," James pulled out his cell.

"I'll go with you," Maria took off with him.

"Nukes?" Natasha turned around, crossing her arms. You'd given her your sweater to wear, and she pulled it closer to her body. "He said he wanted us dead."

"Not dead," Steve jumped in. "He said extinct."

"He also said he killed somebody," Clint recalled.

"Was there anyone else in the building?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Tony frowned. "There was."

He pulled up a 3D image of JARVIS's destroyed consciousness.

"This is insane," Bruce ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the fragmented pieces.

"JARVIS was supposed to be our first line of defense. He would've stopped Ultron, it makes sense."

"Not if Ultron assimilated him," Bruce shook his head. "This wasn't a strategy, this was...rage."

"I wouldn't worry about JARVIS too much," David shook his head as he circled around the 3D image.

"What do you mean?" Bruce looked at David. "He was completely obliterated."

"No," David shook his head. "He wasn't."

David walks over to the computer, shooting up a holographic screen.

"I had some help scrambling the nuclear launch codes," David began typing away.

"Help?" Tony squinted his eyes as he moved to stand next to David.

"JARVIS, the clever little bastard he is, managed to erase his memory and scatter himself all over the internet," David gave a small smirk.

"So, he's a little bit everywhere..." Tony said quietly, nodding to himself.

"Yep," David confirmed. "It'll take me some time to find and collect him. I have a lot of other things on my plate."

"Told you," Natasha whispered as you had your arm around her waist, hips touching. "Carrying our asses."

"Damn straight! Overworked and underpaid here!" David yelled, clearly hearing her, and you rolled your eyes.

"You can always ditch her and come work for me. I offer quite a competitive salary and comprehensive benefits," Tony smiles.

"I would rather saw my leg off, but thank you," David answers without looking at him as he continues to work.

"Well, I--" Tony starts, but suddenly Thor flies in straight for Tony, grabbing him by his neck and lifting him up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! It's going around," Clint's eyes go wide.

"Come on, buddy, use your words," Tony gasps through the hold on his neck.

"Oh, I have plenty of words to describe you, Stark," Thor glares.

"Thor! The legionnaire," Steve redirects his attention. Thor drops Tony, but not before giving a displeased look at him.

"The trail went cold about a hundred miles out, but it's headed north, and it has the scepter," Thor told Steve, but then turned his head back at Stark. "Now, we have to retrieve it. Again."

Thor's tone was miffed, and as he should be, he was annoyed.

"I don't understand," Dr. Cho looked at the metal parts before turning to look at Tony. "You built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?"

Tony bursts out into laughter, and you feel like it only reinforces your thoughts about how he's becoming...unhinged.

"You think this is funny?" Thor asks with a grimace.

Bruce is just shaking his head at Tony, trying to get him to knock it off.

"No, it's probably not, right?" Tony says, but he's still laughing. "Is this very terrible? Is it so...is it so...it is. It's so terrible."

"This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand," Thor lifts his hammer and points it at Tony disapprovingly.

"No, I'm sorry," Tony stops laughing, seemingly sobering up. "I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this."

"A hoot?" You mumble as you furrow your brows.

"I don't think this the time for this, Tony..." Bruce murmurs from the side of his mouth as he's still trying to shake his head.

"Really?!" Tony exclaims in disbelief as he looks at Bruce. "That's it? Someone snarls at you, and you show your belly and give up?"

"Yeah, if I created a murder bot," Bruce points out.

"We didn't!" Tony argues. "We weren't even close. We weren't close to an interface, were we?"

"Now, don't shy away from responsibility," David cuts in as he turns to face everyone, leaning against the desk. "That's an unattractive quality."

"Who asked you?" Tony scrunched his nose.

"No one, but since I'm doing nearly all the work, I'll say whatever the fuck I want," David smiles.

"Oops," you mumbled, drawing Natasha's attention, "here he goes."

"You created this AI program. Maybe you weren't close to an interface for it, but you should've planned for in case it went sentient. What? Your only goal for this AI program was to maintain peace for the earth?" David scoffs. "You're an absolute moron because you know what Ultron's going to come to the conclusion of? Humans are bad for the earth."

"You're absolutely insane," Tony shakes his head. "That's not what I intended for the program. The program is meant to protect the earth."

"Perhaps that was your intention," you cut in, letting go of Natasha as you stood straighter. "But it's clear that Ultron has deviated from your intentions. Protecting the earth is one thing, but you've forgotten what you're truly trying to protect: the people living on the earth."

"The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD," Steve sighs, and you shrugged.

"Does anyone remember when I carried that nuke through the wormhole?" Tony blinks in disbelief at everyone.

"No, never came up," James entered the room, catching the last of the conversation.

"You know, when I saved all of New York," Tony looks around.

"Never heard of it," James deadpanned.

"Remember? When we had a hostile alien army coming through a fucking hole in the sky from space. We were standing three hundred feet below it," Tony points at the ground. He looks at everyone. "We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all day, no problem. But that up there? That's...that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?

"Together," Steve tells him, and Tony looks like he wants to laugh again.

"We'll lose," he tells Steve.

"Then we do that together too," Steve says somberly, and Tony just stares at Steve.

"Not that we would lose," David shrugs.

"You actually think that we'd win?" Tony asks in disbelief, truly thinking David is an idiot.

"You're Ultron's creator, and unfortunately, you've put the worst parts of your personality and paranoia into him," you defend David, shaking your head as you spoke.

"I don't think an alien invasion that actually happened and could happen again would be considered paranoia," Tony quirked his brow.

"There's no doubt there's a possibility that it could happen again," You shrug your shoulders. "But you assume that The Avengers is the be-all, end-all, that you're the be-all, end-all. You assume that you guys are the only people in this world that can fight whatever shit humans can't handle. David and I are literal proof that other supernatural or mutants exist. There are the twins out there too."

You tilt your head. "I know this is your team, your friends, but even if we lose, there's always going to be a new generation of people who will stand up and fight. Each generation of heroes will be better than the next. We do what we can as superheroes, but we don't need perfection to achieve peace."

"I'm not a superhero," Tony shakes his head.

You give him a light smile. "Could've fooled me."

Tony just stares at you before sighing.

"Alright," Steve claps his hands. "Ultron is calling us out. I'd like to find him before he's ready for us. The world's a big place, let's try and make it smaller."

Everyone dispersed, and David came up to you, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm gonna head back to my place to grab a few things, and shower before coming back," he tells you. "What are you doing to do?"

You ran your gloved fingers through your hair and licked your bottom lip.

"Probably head back to my place too to get a few things. I'll check a physical trail for Ultron if you give me a lead," you sigh.

"You going to use your gift?" David gives you a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah," you grumble. David pats your shoulder before he leaves.

The room has mostly cleared out except for Steve.

You feel someone hold your hand, and you turn to Natasha.

"You're going to investigate?" She asks you, and you nod.

"Need company? I think between David and Tony, they've got the digital trail covered."

You smile at her as you curl your fingers around her hand.

"Can't think of anyone better to accompany me," you lift her hand to kiss the back of it. "C'mon, I'll take you back to my place. We can check in on Allison too."

Natasha smiles as she squeezes your hand.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Familiar.

It's been days since they've escaped the base in Sokovia out in the cold.

It's been so long since she's seen the street markets, she almost feels foreign to it.

Yet, even as she tries to enjoy the freedom she now has, her mind keeps drifting.

"Wanda."

Wanda snaps her head over to Pietro.

"What?"

"Are you okay? I've been calling you for a couple minutes," Pietro frowns as he tries to assess his younger sister's well-being.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Wanda waves her hand. "It's just weird being out after being inside for so long."

Pietro hums, agreeing.

"Come," he says, "We're almost at the church to meet whoever is reaching out to us."

Wanda nods as Pietro turns to keep walking.

Wanda clenches her jaw, willing herself to focus on the mission before her. She doesn't understand what's wrong with her.

It had started when she met up with Pietro again after she had let Tony Stark take the scepter.

Once they escaped, the images from Pietro hit her.

It had been brief. Wanda was still learning to control her gift, and sometimes that meant she accidentally looked into Pietro's mind.

But still, she saw you and hasn't been able to get the image of you out of her head since.

Wanda hadn't told her brother. After all, it was clear that while he did find you interesting, he wasn't fascinated by you like she was. Even if she did tell him, she wouldn't know how to explain it anyways.

She kept replaying Pietro's interaction with you over, and over, and over again.

Wanda's replayed it so much, she's almost convinced she was standing there too.

Familiar.

You were beautiful, no doubt, probably the most beautiful woman Wanda had ever seen.

But it was like she'd known you before, but that wasn't the case. Wanda would've remembered you if she had.

Wanda wishes she had been in Pietro's place when he met you. You were clearly different if you were able to keep up with him.

It'd be easier to understand--to know you if she had been the one there.

But she knew she'd eventually meet you.

Because Wanda only had one goal.

And that was to ruin Tony Stark and his little bandwagon of superheroes.

While Wanda may be curious about you, she's convicted to her goal, and if you were truly with the Avengers...

Wanda would ruin you too.

PART IX

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rurifangirl · 3 years ago

Note

chile, could ya explain the magic system in yo oc world more? im kinda confused w how it works👁👄👁

Oh boy, here we go bitches.

So as an intro to this, I said bout last oc post in Qiran's part that their fam was full of mages n shit, but also some of em weren't, n since they do have magic istelf Imma do more parts (3 parts)

First part- how does It all work (Humans/Mages)

First of all, not all of em have a connection with magic, for example Evelyn doesn't at all while Lyva does but only through a magical item so It doesn't really count.

Other then that, if you're born you can either be born with some kind of magic, or simply not. It all depends from your family's lineage, for example If you come from a family of mainly rougues it's hard to get some kind of magical power, while if your parents have both some kind of power or even if it's only one of em, it's more likely you'll end up with something really similar, or a mixture of the two. (In case both of your parents have magical powers of any sort.)

It also depends on where you're living, for example If you'd be born from a cold place it's unlikely ya'd have magma magic rather than snow magic.

Between humans/mages the system Is kinda the same, but that does change for Hybrids/Demi gods/anything that isn't born between the same species.

Between humans/mages it's more of how their ancestors managed to treat its powers, as some got even destroyed for not being worthy of its usage, so If anything at this point and time they're lucky about getting somethin.

Mages are far more cautious about It, having both a lot of hidden knowlege about spells or even origins of some types of magic, though that being the most "common" ones, (for example fire, water ect.), because it's not only them of course, there's far more variants and all are different from eachother.

They can also get stronger by the worshipping of certain gods, which I don't think I will really talk about, at least in this post. (And also because they're still a wip of mine)

But the gang until now really never relied on any of them, or at least Lyva/Rui n Naexi never really did, while the others absolutely did. This Is also why I will do another post as a sorta of a part 2.

Anyways back on topic, most people in all parts of my oc world aren't used to worshipping anymore, or at least a great part of It, mainly because of a loss of knowlege about anything about them.

It's kind of taboo even mentioning most gods names, as they fear something will go wrong if they would (*ahem*being suspicious n allarmin the cult*AHEM*). In fact it's hard to get on most religions because the only remains of It are extremely either hidden, or destroyed in the meanwhile.

I wanna say that another reason because the worshipping stopped Is also because of Rui's cult. Yes, remember that?

It's gonna be talked about on its own post, but let's just say that for them, it's a safe way to restrain anyone knowing far too much about how everything works.

They're the only ones owning most stuff about different coltures to avoid having them against their side,

If there's no worshippers, no knowlege, n more weak magic because people don't strengthen them, who's gonna go against em? (It'll turn out to be the shittiest idea they've ever had but that really did work for the longest time.)

Oh I think i forgot to mention this, but since magic goes lineage to lineage, It also weakenens as generations pass by, as THAT'S the reason they absolutely need those texts.

That's also the reason most humans struggle w keepin magic. Mages can manage, though it's a small portion, since sometimes not even what they've learned over generations works anymore.

Second part- how does It all work (Hybrids/Demi gods n stuff)

Oh boy, so, I'm also gonna use Shou n Naexi a lot here, so bear w me. As I said earlier, it's different from em, since it's not about lineage at all.

Apart that the union between different species Is both a taboo n seen as something "ashaming",so even if they had a child It was more likely they'd Hide It or leave It behind. So it's already a really, god-awful situation for them.

The magic works kinda randomly, in the sense that since the hybrid's nature is seen as unstable to begin w, there's no real critere to handle how the child born Is gonna turn out to be.

Sometimes it's really hard to notice, having yeah some features but can be hidden really easly, but other times Is just, a real mess between the two species, n the magic Is also uncontrollable, especially during their first years of life.

For example, in Shou's case he used to really switch a lot between em, that being the reason he later on prefers not to switch, n havin to learn as soon as possible how to learn how his magic n form would work w It, having again a lot of preassure comin from people he knew.

This Is unfortunatly a really common situation between most hybrids. And there's also no choise.

If you as an hybrid can control magic w/o anything to rely on then you can live, while if you cannot do It, it's a matter of time before you'd get zoned out by everyone and everything.

This Is a big issue, other than having everything fucked by the cult but that's another story.

Aight now bout demi-gods, they're also really not seen well. Most of them prefer not to interact at all with anything that Is not godly related, and in fact, most of em even refused to adknowledge their mortal parent, since they all have resentment over the sudden disappereance of all belivers.

If anything Naexi Is a weird one at that, as they did have a suddent interest in humans and ungodly creatures, though still recognized about how cruel any of them could've been, especially she's a demi-god and has a bad reputation at that.

The magic system Is relatively simple, they just get a certain amount of power from their god parent and are actually pretty capable of controlling them in confront of Hybrids.

That mainly comes from a special connection w their god parent's power, so in theory they're sort of devoted to them.

I wanna expand this when I'll do the gods post n finnaly introduce some of em (And potentially Naexi's mother👀), so I'll not go beyond this atm.

Third part- Magical items/weapons

Aight onto another important part, which Is basically how tf would that work. We have that comin from Qiran's sword n Lyva's earrings, so they'll also be later on disscussed bout.

Even though it's a tough and long procedure, you can transport some of your own magic onto somethin as ordinary as an hat or as sharp as a dagger.

This Is being mainly used in emergency situations, as that energy can eventually be re-used later on by its user.

The user can be changed as long as there's a deal between both parties, whether that being a gift, buying It, or anythin up to them really.

It can also be a great way to hide mage's power, since there are some parts where they arent exactly that respected, so they could blend in with normal humans.

In fact, Qiran does that continiously thanks to their sword, daggers and other lil weapons, and they keep a big part of It there, to seem rather a normal knight/adventurer rather than havin somethin supernatural goin on.

They have a great holdo it since their father did make them learn to fulfill their request to be freerly goin round.

With Lyva it's not really different, even if she kinda stole It n there wasn't really a deal at that moment, but before runnin away from everyone n everything she convinced her mother to give her something that she could use to defend herself, since they were never around and when they were, they would've kinda avoided her.

Oh, and to add this, you could also curse an item. It's a way to mainly punish since ,well, it's a curse,

and makes the user either completely obsessed with the object itself or makin them do somethin w/o any type of consent, whether physical or emotional.

In some cases It can also be a torture tool. Though, as some recent stuff happened, they're somewhat hard to find.

If you still have somethin unclear lemme know cuz idk If I covered everythin or if somethin ain't clear enough😭

Tags undercut:

@a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @dopesaladlady @damnfoxx @audre-falrose @nadi-117

(If you want your tag removed/added either dm me/go in the ask thing or do the tag thingy in the pinned comment‼️)

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cinderspots · 3 years ago

Text

FORTISSIMO

Tag List: @ultimatebottom69 @imsososolesbian @luni-draws-crap @fatherse7en

Poetry

All my life I’ve been a rest, waiting for the fermata of all the other parts to end for my turn to sing, but all I ever did was wait for a beat.

The rhythm of my heart never did me any good, all it ever did was get me into trouble, as it could never follow along with the tempo.

It came adagio, the shaky sound of me singing, pianissimo is where it started, I was unsure and nobody was there to conduct.

As it slowly, but surely, became 4/4 I became piano.

Of course, I was but an alto, singing the undertones to a piece that no soprano had chosen to duet with me, in all fairness I was only barely becoming mezzo piano.

Measures passed me by as slowly I began to move from system to system, staff to staff, reading the treble clef became a language I was fluent in, the scales became comforting and suddenly I was mezzo forte.

Suddenly, there was a clash of notes, a purposeful off-key soprano had joined in, but I was only happy to have a partner, so we sang, the alto and soprano, the duet.

This soprano, however, only became sharper and louder, crescendoing in all the same places I was beginning to decrescendo.

My music left me behind just before I was to reach the next dynamic, the next comfort, and I let it leave, I let it be torn away as slowly I began to sing pianissimo once more while the soprano sang loudly in front of me.

Oddly enough the soprano and alto were not complete, for I was the alto, and she was the soprano one, missing the soprano two to complete a trio, a melody to compliment, a chord to strike.

And so we did, we found a soprano two to match the alto in me and we sang softly in the background to the soprano one who continued to steal the spotlight.

Soon enough I had become a rest again, while the soprano two had become the accompaniment.

The soprano one had added a volta bracket to her part and we were left to agonize in silence while she shone brighter at our quiet.

But all alto’s have their moment, their solo, and try as she might no soprano can reach the low tones like an alto who at times can even step into the tenor arena.

So I skipped the bracket, I skipped the rests, I jumped measures upon measures, pages of music, and the bridge had arrived.

And I arrived at forte.

Me and the soprano two broke off from the loud soprano one and went along our way, finding that maybe, perhaps, not all soprano ones were like that and maybe she was different, maybe she was flat.

We split up soon after, the alto and soprano two remembered too much between them and felt it better to make it harder for the soprano one to find them both in the same place.

And soon I was crescendoing once more, arriving at forte more often, enjoying the vibrato, taking in the legato, and becoming almost one with the choir.

I was not the loudest, but I was there.

But like before I needed a soprano to complete my duet, this time I would choose wisely and carefully, match the tones of our voice, check their pitch, I refused to fall into another trap.

None fit the standard for quite some time, not enough to be the second in my duet, but enough to become friends and enjoy their company and learn that not all sopranos were like my old soprano one.

Still, I admittedly trusted soprano twos more easily and found them more relatable, they weren’t that far from being an alto, after all, at least they were closer than soprano ones were.

I had yet to reach the next level, but I would be patient, I understood that in order to do so I would need my second to encourage my voice louder and stronger.

I could never have suspected that my second would have been there the entire time.

Something strange happened, I became accelerando, moving quicker and quicker towards my goal-

I was scared.

The soprano one before had been accidental in all the wrong places, and I was scared of what the seemingly perfect pitched soprano two would do to me.

Would I fall back to piano or worse, rest with a fermata above?

Much to my presumed demise I would have to let the soprano duet with me like the one before.

A test.

And so we sang, the alto and soprano, and shockingly when i struggled and missed a note she allowed me to recover, turning the song into something improvised.

When I was strong she let me shine and I did the same in turn and before I knew it we were a proper duet.

No need for more, we were the pair, the compliments to each other, yet the same in enough ways that there was no need for words but only for music.

I - the alto - leaned on her - the soprano - just as much as she leaned on me and while we reached the end of our song I felt it in my bones.

I was ready.

I was Fortissimo.

#cindertalk #music #poetry #metaphorical #literal #romantic trauma #confidence #moving on

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silverwhiteraven · 4 years ago

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Borne of the Stars - Chapter 14 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List: @eve-valution @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @soulmate-game @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @annabellabrookes @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron @ivymala07 @maribat-is-lifeblood

[ Summary: Author is Back! The Heroes now meet. They also meet their first Akuma. ]

[ Posted on A03 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 13 ] [ Chapter 15 ]

Marinette was falling.

Well, falling as much one could when holding on for dear life to one end of a magical yo-yo that acted as its own weird grappler mixed with a trapeze. Neither of which she had ever used in her life.

First time for everything she supposed, though she also hoped this wouldn’t end with lasts, either.

Speaking of firsts being lasts, she realized her latest upswing was about to turn into a crash course collision with a black clad figure floating in the open air. As she yelled a terrified “ Look out!! ” at the person she didn't know was friend or foe, she really did wish this would be her one and only time her bad aim with a yo-yo ever turned into this situation. She really doubted it, though, but a girl can dream.

She barely saw a flash of blonde hair and green, green eyes turn towards her in shock before they slammed into each other, and fell several meters to a high rooftop below with mutual ‘ oofs ’ and wire wrapped around them. They rolled to a stop, Marinette resting awkwardly atop the other who had her back to the roof.

“I am so so sorry!” Marinette immediately apologized as soon as breath was back in her lungs. “I’m really new at this, I-” She was interrupted and silenced a moment later by a laugh and green, feline eyes looking into her own from below.

“Don’t worry about it, little lady,” the girl clad in black soothed reassuringly, her French accented. “I know a thing or two about knocking everything over when you first start out. I’d make a great practice dummy if you ever need it. Now, let's get out of this- uh…” She looked down, confused, at the string around them as she gave her arms a tug. “Wow, this stuff is stronger than I thought.”

Marinette could just feel the yo-yo string staying firmly tight with every tug, and realized she still had one end of it in her hand. “Oh! Let me just-” One tug, and the yo-yo came zipping around them and back into her hand. She was up in an instant, backing up with a flush of embarrassment on her face. “S-sorry, again, I’ll get better at this soon.”

The other girl just grinned, revealing pointed canines as she stood up as well. “Take your time, I can carry us both for as long as we need until you’re ready.”

A distant rumble caught their attention, and the blonde girl went tense and turned back to Marinette.

“Let’s make these introductions quick. I’m Oncilla the Black Cat,” The girl in black said, a hand over her heart and the other behind her back, taking a rather formal looking bow. “You must be the Ladybug I was told to expect?”

Marinette gaped like a fish for a moment before nodding quickly. “Oh, yes! Ladybug, yeah, you can call me that, not many other options with this costume, huh?” She joked nervously with a glance at her red and black-spotted hoodie.

“It suits you, Buggy,” Oncilla said with a grin, then walked over to the edge of the roof towards where the noise was coming from. Marinette- Ladybug- followed, fidgeting the yo-yo in her hand. “We should get going,” Oncilla added, squinting into the distance. “If there's anything I know, it’s that the damage only gets worse with time.”

“Experienced?” Ladybug asked, looking out over the edge nervously.

“Very. You?”

Ladybug laughed nervously once more. “Only with classroom bullies. This is…”

“Bigger, yeah. But think of it this way,” Oncilla turned to Ladybug and set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “In a classroom, you're both on equal footing. Out here with villains? The field is bigger, but being Ladybug means your footing is the same, too. And you know what else you have that they don’t?”

“What?” Ladybug asked curiously.

“Back-up,” Oncilla said confidently through a big grin. “Bullies never have many friends, and villains are nothing more than slightly bigger bullies with even bigger heroes to oppose them. Trust me, your Ladyship, we got this. ”

Ladybug’s shoulders relaxed, and a grateful smile spread on her face. “Thank you. Having friends to back you up is always a good choice. Glad to have you as one of mine.”

Oncilla beamed at her. “Let’s head off. I can fly, but since you can’t, I'll stick with you. I've learned my lesson with going in head-first without my team, I won’t be teaching that to you on our first day together.”

“I appreciate it, considering I’m still not used to this yet at all,” Ladybug showed the yo-yo in her hand. “Catch me if I fall again? I don’t think ladybugs land on their feet…”

“‘Course,” Oncilla answered, then pulled a silver staff from behind her back. Not only did she plan to stay by Ladybug, she also seemed to be planning to forego flying so she could keep the same pace. Ladybug appreciated the gesture, and with a toss of her yo-yo and a step off the edge, she was off towards her first ever in-person super-villain, partner close behind.

Their travel wasn't long, though it felt like forever to the poor Ladybug, who was holding any more panicked yells from escaping. She really hoped she would get used to this soon, she really did.

They found their villain near the Eiffel Tower, the large monument clearly being the Akuma’s goal.

“They're trying to get a higher vantage point,” Oncilla fills in as Ladybug notices the Akuma was only floating so high off the ground. One of the Black Cat hero’s feline ears was flicking, cluing the other into Oncilla’s enhanced hearing as well.

As Ladybug turned back to look at the villain, squinting at them, she could have sworn for just a second she heard the Akuma muttering to themself. Maybe she got her hearing enhanced, too, just not as much? She supposed it went along with the themes, really.

“So how do you usually handle this kind of thing?” Ladybug questioned without moving her eyes from the target. She also kept them moving closer, though slower to keep from rushing or alerting the Akuma.

“Observe, strategize, attack, and don’t ever hesitate. Waiting is only good if it lets you get information, otherwise that’s just stalling, and stalling is bad if you don’t want extra collateral damage.” Oncilla was clearly concentrating well on the situation, looking and sounding perfectly in her element. Ladybug felt out of place, but she still held to the hope that she could fill her new role without any classic Marinette-clumsiness getting in the way.

“Observe…” Ladybug mused. “I saw earlier from my own, uh, high places, that all the glowing street parts popping up are a big, connecting map. The roofs of some buildings are even getting marked with icons.”

“Oh, I noticed that too, a... friend pointed it out to me,” Oncilla nodded. “But why turn the whole city into a giant map?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Maybe they got lost, couldn't find a place to ask directions?” She tapped her chin, thinking more. “I also saw a few odd things while I was swinging around. A few miscellaneous places had markers on them, almost like pins in a personal map rather than existing landmarks. They could be caused by the Akuma’s personal interests in those places?”

“Sounds reasonable. But in that case, they already know the layout of the city. Again, why a map ? Maybe...”

“They're tracking something?” Ladybug filled in.

“Exactly!” Oncilla snapped and smiled at her. “Maybe a bit more like a GPS system. Or a treasure hunt. They don't know where the thing they're looking for is, but they know it’s going to be marked on the map. So, they need to get somewhere to be able to see the map best.”

“Like a really tall tower in the middle of a lot of shorter buildings,” Ladybug finished, then looked onward, past the Akuma, to the Tower itself.

“Let’s intercept them at the base,” she suggested, “If we can't stop them there, we can at least follow them up and see where they go from there.”

“Smart,” the other replied. “Let’s go.” And with that, Oncilla was running and pole vaulting towards the Tower, skirting far around the Akuma to avoid notice, Ladybug close behind with her yo-yo.

The two heroes got to the base of the Eiffel Tower before the Akuma did, though not by long. However, the Akuma seemed not to notice them, eyes locked on the upper levels. That is, until a violet glow ringed their mask, and their eyes snapped downward to the duo, before their previously pensive expression warped into a cold sneer.

“The Ladybeetle and Black Cat! You finally arrived!” The Akuma spoke loudly, impatience thick in their tone.

The two dropped into defensive stances at the recognition, Ladybug’s more sloppy and unpracticed than Oncilla’s. Ladybug thought to herself that she should really take more fencing classes as Marinette. Maybe Kara and her friends could assist, too? Not the time to think about this! She self reprimanded, turning her focus back to the villain.

“What about us?” Oncilla taunted, bringing the focus of the Akuma to her.

“I am Atlas, and in exchange for your Miraculous, I shall be able to find what I have lost with the gift I have been granted. So hand them over.”

“Yeah, no,” the Black Cat wielder continued, “These aren't toys to trade like Halloween candy. We keep them, and you get lost.”

"No! Give me your Miraculous and get out of my way so I can get back to finding my things!" The Akuma bellowed at the heroes.

"I'm sorry Atlas, but we really can't do that," Ladybug chimed in, looking conflicted. She wasn't used to this, it was only her first time as a hero, let alone negotiating with a super-villain or a possessed civilian. Yet, there was something here she did know how to do.

"But!" She interrupts the Akuma as their face contorts into a deeper scowl, their body crouched and coiled, ready to jump at them. "But, maybe we can help?"

"Help?" Atlas became confused, and the butterfly-shaped glow returned. They waved it away with a shake of their head, "Quiet, Hawk Moth, maybe she can help you with this, too."

"Yeah- Yes! I can try to help, what is it you lost, maybe we can look for it." She glanced back to the other hero, making sure she was on board. Oncilla shrugged, relaxing from her previous stance and restraining herself from jumping right into fighting.

The Akuma looked thoughtful before answering.

"Well, at first, I just lost my pens,” the Akuma recalled aloud. “But then..." Their expression contorted in pain as they remembered their moments that led to their Akumatization.

"I lost a lot, actually," they amended. "Today was rough, a lot went bad. I just wanted to relax and work on my calligraphy when I was finally home. But I couldn't find my pens, or my backups... God, I found my good paper with spilled ink! " Their voice rose again, the anger and frustration growing and radiating from them like a toxin. Ladybug kept herself from recoiling and held herself as steady as she could, listening.

"I'm probably the one who spilled it when I left this morning, hell, I probably forgot my pens in the locker when I emptied it, or on the subway like a freaking idiot . I keep doing things like this, losing everything . I can't keep anything straight, I can't remember anything right, I can't do what's expected of me! " Tears streamed down their cheeks now, and their cries had risen to a yell.

"I need everything mapped out for me because I'm useless without that!! So just, HELP ME , or GIVE UP and GIVE ME THE MIRACULOUS!! "

The butterfly glow returned, and only a split second of unheard prompting had the sorrowful and angered Atlas attacking the heroes off-guard.

The two heroes jumped apart, dodging the first attack. Oncilla was quick to engage Atlas in close combat while Ladybug recovered herself.

The fight moved away from the newer hero, and in an attempt to get herself closer, tossed her yo-yo into the beams of the Tower. It stuck and pulled her up, but she failed to get it back down, and ended up hanging from the string a few meters in the air. Looking around to see if there was anywhere for her to safely fall to, she realized, even if it wasn't much, she could see things better than from the ground.

“Oncilla!” Ladybug called out, and saw the other hero’s feline ears twitch towards her in acknowledgment. “I need to get higher, I have an idea! Can you handle them for a minute more?”

“Of course!” came the response. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I got this! Go!”

With a quick, hard tug, and another throw of the yo-yo as she fell, Ladybug was heading up the Eiffel Tower.

As she swung to the peak, she called out, “ Lucky Charm! ”

#Borne of the Stars #maribat #Krypto-Mari AU #marinette dupain cheng #kara danvers #miraculous ladybug #dc super hero girls #black cat kara #kryptonian au

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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In Another World

Summary: In another world, it was Jensen that got the role of Captain America, not Chris. You have dreamed of meeting Jensen ever since you saw him in his CGI glory in The First Avenger, and your comicon experience you discover to be underwhelming. But then you meet a cosplayer in the bar... and life takes an altogether different turn for you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Comicon, Comic Convention, Strangers at a Bar, Cosplay, Captain America Cosplay, Unprotected Sex, Hotel Room Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Blow Job, Anal Play.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader (no race specified)

The above Jensen manip i cannot trace, it was sent to me years ago by a now deactivated tumblr user, with the signature half chopped off. Its the artwork that inspired this fic. In case you weren’t aware, Jensen auditioned for the role of Captain America but it of course went to Chris.

I do not operate a tag list, but feel free to go ahead and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified when i post a new story. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives.

Due to the amount of stories i have written over the years i no longer have a masterlist, instead please check out my AO3 HERE.

In Another World

You sat at your computer, staring at the screen as you streamed the latest press junket. Marvel was going all out with its ten-year plan for The Avengers and with this press tour for The Winter Soldier you had fallen in love even more with Cap.

As the images streamed live from the far east, you watched as Jensen flexed his muscles and his co-stars laughed in admiration. He was born to be Captain America.

But you weren’t the only one watching.

In a small apartment in Boston another pair of eyes watched with an added level of sadness. He remembered the audition. Standing in the hallway with a bunch of other guys, all in their 20’s, all having a few bit-part roles under their belts in teen TV shows or low budget horror movies. The same green eyes that stared out of the screen had looked at him in the hallway, holding his hand out to shake;

“Hey man. Jensen”

“Chris”

Jensen smiled;

“Strong Boston accent there dude”

Chris chuckled;

“Say the same about you, what’s that Houston?”

“Dallas”

“Eh, close enough”

They chatted for a while as the guys ahead of them in the line entered the room, only to leave 5 minutes later. They didn’t look up at the guys left, no-one wanted to read expressions to give themselves fake hope. The door opened and the annoying droll voice of the elderly secretary called out;

“Ackles”

Chris looked up, holding his hand out to his new acquaintance;

“Break a leg man”

Shaking it briefly Jensen nodded;

“Thanks man”

You clung to your priority tickets, the excitement so intense you weren’t sure if you were going to puke or cry. You hoped for neither. It was your first convention and you had maxed out your credit card and called in sick from work when the special edition tickets had been released, refreshing your computer every ten seconds so that when they had been released online you had made your purchase within 30 seconds.

Now standing towards the front of the queue you were terrified. You had loved Jensen from the first moment you’d seen him in all his CGI glory in The First Avenger. You’d followed his career and had even gone back and watched his entire back catalogue. He was a natural for the role and the stealth suit from the most recent movie had made him look so handsome you had actually swooned when you had seen those first opening scenes of the movie aboard the Lumerian Star.

The con volunteers were doing an amazing job, herding the fans into some form of order, and as you got closer you could hear the laughter and squeals of joy as fans ahead of you were rapidly shown in.

It was your turn. The flimsy black curtain was pulled aside, and you were pushed into the brightness of the well-lit area that was surrounded on all sides by vivid blue panels that bore the con’s logo. Jensen turned and smiled, putting his hand out and you found you were standing next to him. Your head swam;

“Do you have a pose?”

“Umm…” You could see the con workers and volunteers moving their arms in a ‘hurry up’ motion; “I guess… a hug?”

“Sure thing”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pointed towards the bored looking photographer;

“Smile sweetie”

You did. You smiled, your saw blobs as the flash blinded you. You didn’t even register as Jensen pressed his hand to your back, thanking you before turning to the next person who had already been pulled through the black curtain. A volunteer took your wrist and pulled you gently through the curtain on the far side, giving you your photo number as they apologised it was so fast.

The curtain closed and you stood there, blinking as you tried to focus on the small piece of paper you held. It was done. Over. You’d met Jensen and it had been so rushed you hadn’t even had chance to look at him.

The bile started to rise, you looked around and saw a trash can, leaning over it and vomited into the piles of used coffee cups and candy wrappers.

The hunt for a bottle of water at a con hadn’t been something you would think would take so long; a lot of the vendors had already sold out, others the line was so long it would have taken you longer to get the water than the queue for the con in the first place. It seemed as if everyone was walking against you, or you were going against the flow of them, but when you finally got your water you drained the entire bottle, soothing your bile parched throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you heard an announcement over the PA system;

“We apologise, but the Jensen Ackles panel won’t be broadcast out of the auditorium due to technical issues”

“WHAT?” you grabbed your wrist, looking at your watch as your eyes went wide. You’d been so dazed by your photo op and feeling ill afterwards you had forgotten about the panel. You needed a drink, and something stronger than water.

Chris adjusted the helmet of his costume as he looked in the mirror. The men’s room was quiet, the main panel of the con was on and he couldn’t bring himself to sit in the same room as the guy that had won the role that had made him millions; of fans and dollars.

After not getting the Captain America role Chris had continued to take bit parts and small independent movies. He was recognised occasionally but he hadn’t hit the big time. In fact there were months when there was nothing coming in and it was only after someone had asked him to fill in at a kids party where one of the superhero guys had fallen sick at the last minute did the idea of cosplaying come to him. Now however he was well known in cosplay circles, even getting paid for some appearances. He was called a natural for the role, but that was the hardest to hear. He’d worked hard with his costumer and within just a few weeks of the latest movie coming out they’d successfully recreated the amazing Stealth Suit in its darker colours.

Checking his pants for his wallet he decided he needed a drink, and something stronger than a soda.

Nodding to the bartender, you thanked him as he set the beer down in front of you before he went to the far end of the bar to pull the latest load of glasses out of the dishwasher. You sat picking at the label and tracing patterns in the condensation that gathered on the cool glass. You were vaguely aware of other people coming and going, and when the barstool next to you was taken you didn’t look up.

“What’ll it be Cap?”

The bartender’s greeting drew your attention from your drink, casting your gaze to your side and your breath was sucked from your body. You watched as the man set his helmet onto the surface of the bar before nodding to what you were drinking;

“Same as the lady please”

Your eyes travelled from where his hand sat on the countertop of the bar up the dark sleeve of his stealth suit, taking in his wide shoulders and up to the fluffy dark blonde hair, slightly messed up from where he’d been wearing the helmet. You couldn’t help it, but you were staring. Your jaw was hanging low as he turned slowly to you, his blue eyes sparkling with just the faintest hint of green as he looked at you and a self-conscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth;

“Hi…”

“You’re… you’re…”

“No, just cosplaying…” he turned back to his beer for a moment until you finally found your voice

“No. You’re Chris”

He set his beer on the countertop and turned to you, this time a genuine smile on his face;

“Do we know each other?”

“Well…” you blushed; “We spoke on Instagram” He cocked an eyebrow, but his attention didn’t waiver from you as you continued; “You’re ‘AlmostCap’, right? You posted about wanting advice on how to dye leather boots a deeper colour? I messaged you with the details of the dyes costumiers use”

His face broke into a wide smile;

“Oh yeah, that really worked! How did you know that?”

“Majored in theatre design at college”

“Well that titbit of knowledge brought the whole costume together” he motioned to his stealth suit and you couldn’t help but to look him up and down; “Without you I wouldn’t look this good”

You snorted back a laugh;

“I’m sure you look just a good without the suit”

Bringing your beer to your lips you took a sip, not realising Chris had moved closer until his lips brushed against your ear;

“Would you like to find out?”

The hotel room door crashed against the wall, the metal doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall. Chris had you pressed up against it, one hand holding you flush with his chest as his other hand blindly reached out for the door to close it. As soon as his fingertips grasped the cool wood he threw it shut with a thud that reverberated through the room.

Your hands clawed at Chris’s costume, desperate to find purchase, something, anything to hang onto and anchor yourself as he kissed you so hard you saw spangled stars. He’d put his costume helmet back on for the rather quick walk through the convention to the hotel where you were staying. His lips traced patterns over your cheek before he pressed kisses down your neck, whispering as he went;

“I don’t normally do this…”

“Me neither…

“...especially in costume…”

“Oh Chris…Cap…”

“It’s Captain tonight, Princess”

His fingers had found their way to the buttons on the front of your dress, skilfully plucking each one from its grasp on the thin cotton fabric, before his still gloved hand roughly cupped your breasts. As his lips found yours again, he groaned into your mouth as he weighed your breasts in his large hands, the rough leather against the lace of your bra sending chills through you. If Chris had a Captain kink you weren’t about to say no, hell, it would be one of your biggest fantasies.

You found yourself being manhandled towards the bed, Chris’s kisses hard and ravenous, and when he wasn’t kissing you his tongue was doing the most devilish things on your skin. The bed touched the back of your knees and you were falling back onto the covers, Chris following seconds later as he pressed you into the mattress. With a thick thigh he pushed your legs apart, the rough Kevlar fabric of his suit brushing against the delicate skin of your soft skin as his fingers sought out the juncture of thighs. The brush of the harsh leather of his fingerless gloves made you groan into his mouth as he tugged your panties to the side and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing small circles, he teased it from its hood, before his fingers slid through your folds to ease some of your slick moisture from you to smooth his efforts.

When his lips left yours you chased after them, but his voice made you settle back against the bed and open your eyes;

“Uh-uh… stay there Princess”

You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, before his kiss bruised lips closed around his glistening digits and he moaned as he tasted you;

“You taste amazing”

“Umm… thank you?”

“Here…”

He brought his hand to your mouth and you grasped it as you sucked gently on just the fingertips, watching as Chris’s already lust blown pupils widened even further;

“Jesus fucking Christ, your tongue…”

Letting go of his fingers with an audible pop, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, resting on one arm as you slid a hand between your bodies and palmed his erection through his suit;

“What about my tongue?” you grinned before you tugged him down to lay beside you.

Pushing up onto your knees you ran your hand down his chest and stomach, the costume warm from his body heat and firm to the touch. Your fingers clawed at his suit to try and find the zipper, and after thirty seconds of searching you let out a huff;

“Ok, how the fuck to I get in here?”

With a low chuckle Chris reached down and lifted a hidden Velcro flap that revealed the button and the top of the zipper, and you eagerly tugged the pants of his suit open. The large bulge in his boxers immediately filled the space of the open zipper, and you found yourself nuzzling against the hardness that the soft jersey fabric could hardly contain. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the hard shaft through the fabric, you felt Chris’s hands on your head, he wasn’t pushing but you could tell he wanted you. With a smile you just about tugged his boxers down enough to free his cock, the thick shaft standing proud from the fly of his stealth suit. You wrapped your hands around it, the flesh hot to touch and pumped him slowly.

“Ah fuck Princess…”

“Yes Captain?”

“Please…”

He sounded wrecked, and as you leant forwards and licked at the bead of clear precum that was pooling at the tip you not only heard but felt the low rumble of his moan of appreciation. Wrapping your lips around the tip you started to suck, your tongue working over the hot smooth flesh as your fist worked up and down, pumping him slowly as you let the saliva pool in your mouth so you could take him deeper. In a moment when you pulled off to take a breath Chris’s hands were suddenly on your hips, moving you until you were kneeling on the bed and straddling his shoulders, and for a moment you squealed where his sudden strength had moved you with such ease.

“Gotta taste you…” he muttered from beneath the skirt of your dress, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass and you could feel his breath hot on your skin. His fingers tugged your panties to the side and he was pulling you down onto his mouth, his tongue swiping through your soaked folds.

For a moment you lost yourself, Chris’s efforts driving you closer to orgasm than you thought was possible, but you found your senses and leant forwards again, taking him as deep as you could and you felt his moan deep in your cunt as he almost came on the spot. Working your fingers into his suit you cupped his balls, feeling them tight and hot in your hand as you sucked hard on his cock. At the same time you felt Chris drive his tongue into your soaked hole and his thumb sought out your clit. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, and you could feel your legs start to shake. The harder he drove forwards the deeper you took him into your mouth. You heard a muffled cry from between your thighs and you felt that first tremble of the thick vein that ran the length of his cock. At the same time you felt his fingers dance over the crack of your ass, one finger pressing lightly against your dark rose and you were cumming over his face as he pumped thick ropes of cum down your throat.

When your legs were about to give out you tactfully rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to Chris as he fought to catch his breath. With laboured efforts he wrenched his helmet off, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he started to fumble with his costume;

“Gotta get out of this…”

Watching a hot guy strip was not something you’d experienced before, and a hot guy dressed as Captain America? Well that was hitting all your buttons in one go. You smiled as Chris was muttering to himself;

“Fuckin’ suit, so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ drenched in sweat…”

When he was down to just his pants you finally spoke up;

“Need a hand there Captain?”

Chris looked up and grinned;

“You mind if I use your shower?”

“Sure thing, it’s all yours…”

Chris started for the small bathroom door, his utility pants hanging low on his hips before he paused and turned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth;

“Wanna join me?”

Showering with a guy you had literally just met was a surreal experience. The comfort and security of being partially clothed during a hook-up was completely stripped from you as you stood in the small shower enclosure the hotel room offered. Chris had looked absolutely sinful as he had stood beneath the cascading water; his skin patterned with multiple tattoos and just the right amount of chest hair that made you want to run your fingers through it as the hot water coursed over his body. Your fingers had trailed down over his hard stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his thick cock hanging heavy between his muscled thighs.

His lips had met yours eagerly again, and he soon had you pressed against the wall, his leg wedged between your thighs as you ground yourself against the firm muscle. Chris’s hands found your ass and eagerly pulled you hard against him, trapping his now angry cock between your bodies;

“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered against your ear, his fingers digging into your asscheeks; “You gonna cum for me Princess? Soak my thigh?”

“Yes Chris, please…”

“What do you need Princess?”

“Something…. Just more…”

He pulled back from you, searching your expression for something, anything as he chose his words;

“I can give you more…” The depth of tone sent a shudder down your spine; “I’m gonna ask you this and you can say no, and I won’t walk out that door if you say no, but do you like ass play?”

You growled. You god-damn growled like a feral wildcat, nodding eagerly;

“Yes Chris… fuck, yes…”

He captured your lips for another fierce kiss as his hands slid over your ass and one finger trailed up the seam of your cheeks before pressing gently against your rear;

“Now Princess” he muttered against your lips; “I haven’t got any lube in here so it’ll just be a gentle press, you tell me if you want me to stop”

You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed forwards, one hand gripping your hip as he slid you up and down his soaked thigh, the other pressing gently but insistently against your back door.

Just that stimulation alone was enough, and you were cumming hard, your head pressed against the cool tiles as Chris sucked a hickey into your neck.

You stood there panting as you tried to regain your composure, Chris holding you tight in his arms as he gently caressed you as you finally came to your senses. Nuzzling against his neck you felt him push his hips forward, his thick cock hard again against your hip;

“Ready for another round?”

“Anything for you Cap” you grinned.

The pair of you had fallen back onto the bed, half dry and oblivious to anything other than pleasure. Body heat rising, you felt your back naturally arch as Chris lay on top of you, pulling his knee up to part your legs further and you could feel his thick length laying hot and hard against your soaked folds. As his other leg pushed up and parted your thighs even further, you felt that first nudge of his tip at your soaked entrance, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist and with one firm squeeze you felt his breach your body and slide into you.

The base noise that escaped your throat as you felt each glorious inch stretch your velvet walls was music to Chris’s ears, and he let you take the lead even though he was the one on top, letting your body grow accustomed to his size. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke softly;

“You’re doing so good Princess, feel so fuckin’ amazing, takin’ me so deep”

You slowly relaxed your thighs grip on his waist and Chris started to move, sliding his hips back as he slid out, before pushing slowly back in. Propping himself up either side of you, you watched as his arms bulged as he looked down and watched as he pulled out again, your wetness liberally coating him.

With his tip just notched inside you whined at the loss, before with a powerful thrust he filled you completely;

“Holy FUCK!”

“Do you like that Princess? Like my thick dick splitting you open?”

“Fuck Chris, yes, do it again… please!” you whined.

The gorgeous man above you grinned down, seemingly turned on by your begging, and with a loud grunt he started to pile drive into you, his impressive girth stretching you in all the right ways, the slight upward curve to his shaft making your g-spot his number one target with every push. The man was a demon in bed, fucking you hard as he pressed kisses to your chest and breasts, all whilst uttering the dirtiest things about how good you felt, how well you were taking his dick. You begged for more and he eagerly gave it, fucking you through one orgasm before chasing another. His thrusts started to get sloppy, his hips stuttering and he cursed quietly under his breath;

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon…”

“Cum inside me… I’m on the pill…”

He pushed a hand between your bodies, rubbing hard circles against your clit and soon you were coming, your orgasm triggering his, and you as your body milked the cum from his body you both felt like you had found heaven.

With a grunt Chris rolled to your side, his dick sliding out of your soaked channel and he lay on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow, his dick full and swollen at your hip, still shining with your combined fluids. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, and you practically purred when Chris gently ran his fingertips over your breasts;

“That was fuckin’ amazing… I’m probably going about this the wrong way, but can I buy you dinner?”

“That’d be nice”

Dinner had been a fun affair; you had redressed, and Chris had worn his stealth suit pants but just wore the thin Under Armour undershirt instead of the full suit. Although the hotel was well used to people in cosplay costumes during the conventions using their facilities, Chris didn’t want to draw attention to himself, instead he wanted his sole attention to be able to be on you rather than people asking for photos. Throughout your meal the conversation had been fun and light, Chris telling you how he had in fact auditioned for the Marvel role but didn’t envy the craziness that came with the now worldwide recognition that Jensen had to put up with. You had explained how you now worked for a theatrical costumer’s agency on the West Coast, but had heard about some openings for a new series production out of Vancouver.

Chris laughed softly;

“Typical… I fall for a girl that lives on the opposite side of the country”

“You… you’ve fallen for me?”

Chris paused, resting his hand over yours;

“I’m sorry, I’m kinda sappy when it comes to relationships… and I gotta be honest, when I saw you at the bar, I recognised you from your Instagram and when you helped me… I was trying to play it cool…” he took a deep breath; “I hope I’m not scaring you off…”

Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to his cheek;

“No… it’s nice… its more than nice…”

Once the meal was over the pair of you stood in the foyer, unsure what to do before Chris pointed out the rest of his costume was in your room.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I was meant to be crashing on a friends couch”

Grinning you pulled him close;

“Did you want a bed rather than a couch?”

“Fuck yes”

Minutes later you were crashing in the door to your room, Chris’s hands and lips trying to cover every inch of your body, and this time with the knowledge of how his costume worked you knew exactly how to get his pants open, tugging them to the floor as you pushed him into one of the chairs and knelt at his booted feet. With his dick in your mouth he was soon hard again, but that was when he took control, standing and moving you until you were knelt on the soft chair arms looking out of the high rise window over the convention center and city below, the lights of the city oblivious as he flipped your skirt up and pulled your panties down, and filled you with one smooth thrust;

“Fuck… this pussy is fuckin’ perfect, you feel like heaven…”

Wrapping his strong arms around you he pulled you flush with his hard chest, sucking at your neck as his dick rubbed so beautifully against your g-spot you were coming again, screaming out your release as Chris pulled out and lifted you, pulling you to your feet before you found yourself pressed against the wall and he filled you again.

Clinging to his wide shoulders you felt him filling you over and over, your pleasure climbing higher than you ever thought possible. Chris’s strong arms were holding you up, his large hands gripping your ass as he fucked you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist;

“Chris, I’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, cum for me, let me feel that pussy milking me as I fill you up… you feel so good, I’m never letting this pussy go…”

As you came so did he, your walls squeezing him so tight he thought he may pass out from the sheer pleasure. For the longest time he just held you there, your bodies joined until Chris’s dick softened enough to slip out of you. Letting your feet fall to the ground you kissed as you made your way to the bed, falling onto the mattress before wrapping the covers around your flushed bodies, falling asleep soon after.

The sound of a phone ringing pulled you from sleep, the warm body next to you grumbling at the sound before it rapidly jumped out of bed;

“Fuck, that’s my phone”

Through bleary eyes you watched Chris’s naked ass as he rummaged through the piles of clothing on the floor, finding his phone and answering it just in time;

“Yeah… uh-huh… for real?! Yeah absolutely! Send me the details, I’ll be there!”

You watched as he listened a little longer before ending the call, turning to you and he had the biggest smile on his face;

“I might have gotten a part!”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, they want me to do some screen tests with a possible co-star, see if there’s chemistry”

Jumping out of bed you ran and hugged him, kissing him deeply as he carried you back to the bed;

“I feel like celebrating… how about breakfast in bed?”

“Ok, I’ll call room serv… oh…”

Chris was pushing your legs apart and kissing up your inner thigh, and that’s when you realised he was talking about a different kind of breakfast in bed. As you lay back and enjoyed the magic he could perform with his tongue, you blissed out from pleasure.

Three Weeks Later

Chris finished the last scene, the director calling cut and he grinned as he looked at his castmates. None of them could quite believe how they were there, standing in a cold and rainy British Columbia small town, with writers and directors that had been trying to get their series picked up for years.

The rest of the cast of ‘Supernatural’ was a small ensemble, and having been given the role of the older brother; Dean Winchester, Chris felt at home with the role and had been given he contract straight after his screen test with his on screen brother Sam. Laughing with the actor that played Sam - a native New Yorker by the name of Sebastian - the two of them had immediately clicked and their friendship and on screen chemistry shone through the camera.

“Hey Evans, Stan!”

The sound of the producer’s voice caught Chris’s attention;

“Yeah?”

They need you two back at the studio, costume fitting”

“Sure thing”

The sound of the small doorbell that had been fitted on the counter drew your attention from the racks in the back room, calling out for your new arrival that you’d be out in a second. The job you’d applied for in Vancouver had pulled through, and it was your first week. A new show that needed a lot of men’s casual wear, yet things like jeans and jackets needed seams strengthened for fight scenes and pockets added for prop weapons. You were yet to meet the two main stars of the show, the casting having not been fully finalised until just days ago, and everything was hush-hush until it was going to be announced at one of the late summer conventions.

Dumping the armfuls of clothing onto the counter you turned and almost fainted;

“Chris?!”

For a second he looked in shock before he vaulted the counter, and took you into his arms;

“You’re here? You’re really here?”

“You’re the star?! You didn’t tell me!”

You kissed him deeply, before a quiet cough from behind Chris drew your attention, Chris turning;

“Seb, I want you to meet the girl I was telling you about”

The other guy raised an eyebrow;

“You’re THE girl? Wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he held his hand out over the counter and you shook it, Chris still holding you in his arms; “I’m Sebastian but everyone calls me Seb”

Looking at the two of them you knew in that moment the show was going to be a hit, and you looked forward to making these two look even better on screen… if that was even possible.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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redstainedsocks · 4 years ago

Text

The Break-in; Aftermath

I decided to come back and write a comfort piece set a couple of weeks after the break-in story line, and here it finally is! It’s not my most favourite piece of writing ever, but it’s soft, and sweet, and developed plotty feelings, and I have something worth celebrating today so I decided to do that by doing a quicker-than-usual-edit and post this up for happy feels! Who’s ready for some hurt/comfort?!

Warnings: Box boy universe, general dehumanzation (for the ‘verse), referenced violence, referenced beatings, injuries (head injury, broken ribs, broken fingers), self-blame, scared and confused headspace

Tag list: @haro-whumps, @theycomeinthrees, @whumpthisway, @samanddeaninpanties, @teachunks, @draganies, @pepperonyscience, @whump-it, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @untilthepainstarts, @galaxywhump, @kiretto-laorentze, @lonesome--hunter @slaintetowhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @still-an-asshole

Kit hadn’t seen anyone in nearly two weeks. No-one but Emile and the store pets. He was mostly confined to bed—and still the actual bed, not just his mattress on the floor. Emile insisted he rested, he was forbidden from anything strenuous or taxing, only allowed him to help with small tasks at the end of the day,

He’d never known such luxury. If it weren’t for the broken bones and deep tissue bruising he might have melted away at being given such time to relax. As it was, mostly he just focused on dragging breath into his lungs past the stabbing ache in his ribs.

He was bored too, and on edge. Nothing felt as safe as it had. He tried to let it go, Emile said he was taking care of it. New security systems had been installed, and all the windows replaced with stronger glass. His body remembered though—the feeling of fists and feet, the kicks and punches and heavy handed shoves. His body remembered being beaten, but more than that it remembered losing his charges to the whims of people who didn’t have their best interests at heart.

So he wasn’t sleeping well, food sat heavy in his stomach, and he had no way to work off his restless energy without earning a glare from Emile and cutting remarks about needing to recover more quickly. And that was his other concern—that as soon as he was declared fit and healthy again Emile would have no more worries about inflicting whatever punishment must be brewing for his mistakes.

It left him strung out, a lit fuse with nowhere to burn. He wanted to recover well, he wanted to be good and make up for his errors and inability to fulfil his duties. It just wasn’t working. He felt more tired than ever, the pain making him sluggish and slow. Emile hated the way he looked with his bruised face and bandaged hand, told Kit it wasn’t appropriate for him to be seen by customers until it wasn’t noticeable.

Even once he could move around without wincing in pain he was confined to the upstairs apartment or the back rooms whenever the store was open. He didn’t mind missing out on the customers, they were never that important to him. But he hated not being busy. He hated sitting with the itch under his skin that stemmed from his failure to take care of himself. He hated having nothing to do but think of all the ways things felt wrong.

The bright spot on the horizon was Libby. He’d missed her too, and was finally up on his feet enough to be allowed downstairs during her lunch break.

“Hey,” Libby said and rushed up to him all at once. She cupped his face lightly, her eyes roving over the bruising. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I heard a few days later but Mr Raser said you weren’t up to visitors.”

He blinked, noting the change from calling Emile by his first name, and back to referring to him by his surname. Libby hadn’t done that around Kit since the first few weeks of her employment. He wondered if it meant anything.

“How are you?” She gathered up his unbandaged hand and squeezed.

He looked down at their joined hands with bleary eyes, watching the way their fingers curled around one another.

“Kit?”

He flinched a little at his name, at the concern. He wasn’t scared of her, he just… felt seen, really seen, for the first time. More than the paramedics who had tended to him, more than the police detectives who had questioned him, more than by Emile who inspected him with detached scrutiny and thin lipped annoyance.

“I can’t believe they hurt you this badly,” she said fiercely, like she was angry on his behalf.

“I’m okay,” he said, finally looking up again. “They said I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re not. Not right now.”

He tried to smile, and reassure her, but all he ended up doing was sighing. “I’m trying.”

“Is anyone taking care of you?”

“That’s… I don’t need... Um, that’s not what I’m for? I’m the one who takes care of them.”

“So that’s a no, then.” She huffed and he curled into himself before remembering how much everything hurt and gasping in pain. She caught his elbow and guided him to sit down. “Here, gently. I brought you soup, and you’re going to drink it, and then…” he watched her eyes rove over him and around the shop, too. Her hand came up to brush through his hair and he leaned into the touch. “Have you managed to get this clean?” she asked gently.

He shook his head. “My hand… and I can’t lift my arm without my side hurting, and it hurt too much at the back… where I hit my head.” He ducked down in shame.

“Okay, that’s what I thought. And Mr. Raser hasn’t tried to help you?”

He started to speak and she cut him off, “And if you say that isn’t his job I might cry.”

He looked up, worried, but found her smiling softly at him, and it emboldened him “I don’t think he noticed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well that settles it. Soup and a hair wash.”

Before he could even protest, she whisked herself away.

* * *

He thought that usually he would be nervous of this. Stripping his top off in front of her, letting her see his bruises and marks. But on a full stomach of easy to digest food, and after two weeks of pain, he was too tired to worry.

They were in the bathroom for the store pets and she helped him ease out of his shirt and he stood nearby while she filled up the sink. It was low and deep—perfect for helping someone else get washed if they were kneeling or restrained, or otherwise incapable of doing it themselves.

She helped him lean forward over it, sitting on a stool to be the right height.

“I’ll go carefully, tell me if anything hurts and we can take a break okay?”

“Alright, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

She flicked water at him and he drew back in surprise, relaxing when he saw her try not to smile while looking stern. “I mean it, don’t go pushing through pain. I’ve got twenty-five minutes of my lunch break left and I don’t mind spending them all in here with you.”

“That’s very kind, thank you.”

“Come on then, here we go.”

She started by slowly wetting his hair, used a cup to pour water over his head while shielding his eyes with her other hand. He sighed in contentment as weeks worth of grime started to wash away. She worked her fingers through the matted hair that had dried with blood, that he hadn’t been able to fully get rid of.

“Still feeling okay?”

His ribs protested the position a little, but not really any worse than anything else, so he nodded. “Feels good.”

“This bump looks really bad. Does it hurt a lot?”

“Mmm, no? Not since they gave me something to take. The tablets help. They just don’t… my ribs hurt too much so I can’t reach up.” He winced. “I don’t mean to complain.”

She snorted. “Looks like you have every right to complain, to me anyway.” She eased him upright and squeezed the generic shampoo into her hand. “You got a raw deal here, it’s alright if it bothers you.”

“You mean the break-in?” He asked with a frown.

She looked at him steadily for a moment. “Yeah, that, among other things,” she said from between clenched teeth. “But yes. It must have been scary.”

She lathered his head, massaging in gentle circling motions as she went. His eyes closed involuntarily and without meaning to he leaned into her touch.

“I… I didn’t know what to do. And there were so many of them and I couldn’t see their faces and I didn’t know what they wanted.” He gulped, tried to swallow his words but between the soft comforting touch and the pent up emotions he’d been sitting with for weeks, they just kept spilling over. “When they hit me all I could think was how much trouble I’d be in, and then the pain hit too and I thought… thought they might do worse. Like… like in training. And then after, I thought Sir might send me back to training for being bad, for losing the pets... letting them be taken.” He squeezed his eyes closed tighter, scrunching up his face until his healing bruises started to hurt. He could fight back tears if he focused on the physical pain.

Libby’s hands left his head and he heard water splashing, and then her hands cupped his face. He opened his eyes as she ran her thumbs across his cheeks and his muscles relaxed under the steady pressure. “It won’t happen again, Mr. Raser is taking care of it, taking even more precautions. I don’t think anyone would try the same thing twice anyway. You’re safe here, with me, like this. We’ll make sure you stay safe.”

He nodded, breathing slowly so he wouldn’t sob and hurt his ribs.

“Was Mr. Raser mad at you?” Her face darkened, and if he wasn’t so well attuned to the emotions of others he might have missed it.

He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets and shampoo splashing across the tiles. “Not really. Only because I can’t work for a while. But I don’t think it’s me he’s really angry with. It’s confusing, but I’m glad.”

“Well that’s something at least.” She swiped shampoo off his forehead to stop it slipping into his eyes.

“He’s letting me sleep in the big bed,” Kit added shyly. “It’s very nice.”

“The what?”

“The big bed, upstairs? There’s one in the wall, it folds down. He uses it when he had to stay overnight, but now…it’s for me, until I’m better.” Kit smiled, timidly, and shrugged.

Libby’s face went through a range of emotions so fast he felt dizzy just watching her. She sighed, finally, and returned to massaging the shampoo deeper into his scalp. She muttered something under her breath that he didn’t catch. “Libby?”

“Yes?”

“I upset you?”

“No. Well, I am upset for you. That’s not your fault. I can’t…can’t believe there’s been a bed up there this whole time and he makes you sleep on the floor on that tiny mattress.”

“Pets belong—”

“I know, I know the spiel. It just seems wrong.”

He pondered that as she gently tipped his head back and began pouring water over his hair, rinsing the shampoo clean. So many things seemed wrong. The break in. His different treatment since. Libby’s insistence that he should be better cared for. He was being better cared for, wasn’t he? Rest, and time, and the ability to laze about in bed. And he knew he didn’t deserve it. He knew punishment must be coming, he’d failed so spectacularly it must be.

His thoughts broke off as she spoke again. “I think we’re just about done. Unless you need help with anything else?”

His hair felt amazing, squeaky clean and heavenly. He kept his eyes closed in contentment, revelling in the warmth of the room and the moment of peace where he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. He startled as she used a washcloth and rubbed down his face, over the tops of his shoulders and this his neck. He shivered as water ran down his back but not because it felt bad.

“I can manage the other stuff.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She hesitated and then turned away. The loss of her attention stabbed pain in his gut, he didn’t want the moment of calm to be over. His thoughts scrambled to catch up with a swell of emotion he couldn’t name.

She let the sink drain, wiping down the edges and wringing out the washcloth. He began to speak without knowing where he was going, words forming and leaving his lips in a rush.

“You said something seemed wrong, but I don’t know which thing you mean. Everything feels wrong since… since I got hurt. Everything has been so different.” The admittance tumbled out before he could question it, but saying it aloud flooded him with relief.

She leaned against the sink and considered him. “I just know that you deserve better than the lot you’ve been dealt. You deserve to be comfortable not just when you’re hurt, and you don’t, you shouldn’t, have had to be hurt in the first place—not ever. It’s not my place to question your owner, but I wish I could give him a piece of my mind.”

“I try to be good. But sometimes I don’t know what that means either. I don’t know how to be everything that’s expected of me.”

She nodded, stuck her tongue between her teeth and then bit at her lip before sighing. “I wish I could help you more.”

“You helped me now,” he smiled. Everything in him was calmer, no itch, no buzzing of a thousand unanswered questions, no worries about his safety. Sudden tears filled his eyes and he had to look away. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired, just tired.”

She moved swiftly and cradled his head with one arm wrapped around his bare shoulders. He cried silently for a few long minutes, letting everything that had built up slowly bleed away. It was wrong of him to take her time like this, to show weakness like this, but he could hardly care. She didn’t stop him and that made him believe she didn’t care either.

“Same time next shift, okay? Until your ribs heal I’ll help you in any way I can. And… other things will work themselves out in time, you’ll see.”

He nodded, and for some reason he believed her and trusted her words more than anything anyone else had ever said. They settled deep in his chest and he didn’t even question that some of it ran counter to his training. Words like deserve, and help, concepts like him not being hurt—none of them were right. But from her… they didn’t seem wrong either.

His mind was lighter, and he was more centred than he had been since the attack. He sat with the feeling and decided, without really meaning to, that he liked her better than Emile in almost every way.

It felt like a small betrayal, after all the leanience Emile had given him, and he resolved to go and ask for his punishment as soon as his ribs felt better, and to work extra hard to make up for not liking his owner best of all. But even so—he wouldn’t give up the feeling for anything, because it felt like safety, and it felt as far from wrong as he had ever remembered feeling.

#box boy universe #Kit's Story #hurt/comfort #light angst #injuries #injured whumpee #blood mention #violence mention #referenced violence #referenced punishments #dehumanization tw #whumpee and caretaker #pet whump #pet whumpee #people as pets

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susiequaz12 · 4 years ago

Text

Carrot Top- 12: Silenced

Well, it’s here. I’ve been writing a lot more, I need to remember to edit so I can post stuff and not worry about it anymore. Also, woah. I didn’t expect this chapter to be as long as it turned out to be, but oh well I guess. Sorry not sorry.

CW: Restraints, defiant whumpee, possessive/controlling whumper, knives, non con touching (non sexual), dehumanization, blood, some mild gore? (idk I got kinda descriptive but not too bad I guess)

Tags: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

Masterlist is here. Previous part here.

- - -

Howe tried his best to calm the young man down as his chest heaved uncontrollably. His body was wracked with sobs. His heart pumped faster and his lungs beat harder as the tears streamed down the sides of his face.

The Doctor grabbed a clean rag and began wiping the tears away as best as he could. He was trying to hold back tears of his own as he gently cleaned the boy’s face.

“Shhh, it’s okay, calm down. You can breathe, you can breathe, you’ll be okay. Just remember to breathe now, come on.”

He set the rag down and grabbed the anesthetic, beginning to insert it into the iv. Howe quickly turned back to the boy once it had entered into his system.

“Don’t worry, this’ll all be over soon. When you wake up you’ll feel a lot better. You’re gonna get sleepy now, but that’s okay. Just breathe and relax for me. It’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

Andrew’s eyes darted back to the small box that contained the chip and he tried to hold back another wave of tears- but he had no control over his body. He didn’t want that thing inside of him. That was far worse than a collar- than a beating, or a couple of scars. That was permanent it was- it was full and complete control.

A wave of sleepiness wafted over his body as his muscles ached and throbbed. He felt his eyelids getting heavier, spots coming into his vision as he was forced to relax.

Howe looked back towards the microchip and quickly moved it behind a pile of supplies on the cart next to him, hiding it from both of their views. He shook his head and wiped away the fresh tears that came, as Andrew’s eyes grew heavier.

“I’m just doing my job. I can’t- I-I have to, I-” He sighed, right as Andrew’s eyes fluttered closed.

“I’m sorry.”

- - -

When Andrew woke up he was still unable to move.

Not because he had the anesthesia or a paralytic or anything in his system, but because he was still strapped down to the table.

The band going across his forehead had been released, and his head was instead propped up on a small pillow. But the thick straps still wrapped around his arms and legs, his hips, and his shoulders.

Thick stitches and scars lined the front of his torso, a large line going from underneath his collarbone to his belly button. Instead of an intubation tube down his throat, a smaller one wrapped around his head hooking under his nose.

It was a gentle reminder to breathe as he tried not to panic.

Especially as he began to panic when the man that walked into the room was not Doctor Howe.

With the way that he was positioned, he was able to look down at his chest. He was able to see the scars that would stay there, able to feel the ache in his bones and the pressure that had been on his chest as he struggled to breathe.

And all that he could think as Splice approached the table was that this was all his fault.

And that anger rose throughout Andrew much stronger than the fear or the panic did.

For at least a moment.

“Go away.” Andrew croaked.

He didn’t realize how hoarse and tired his voice was going to sound. It made him instantly feel a lot weaker.

Splice ignored his words and pulled a stool over to sit down at the side of the table.

“The doctor fixed you up pretty nicely. How are you feeling?”

“Bothered.” He replied. “Leave me alone.” Andrew shut his eyes in an attempt to block out the man sitting next to him. That attempt failed as fingers locked into his hair.

Splice gripped the curls tightly and ran a hand through them, inspecting the strands before lifting them up and letting them fall back onto the table.

“Well look at that. Your hair is already starting to fade. I wonder how long I can continue to call you carrot top before it completely loses its color.”

“Don’t touch me.” He growled.

Andrew’s eyes stayed close while the man ran fingers through his hair. He knew that that was a side affect of his powers. Using them too much had a tendency to deplete the pigmentation of his hair, and his freckles as well. It was almost as if his body was drawing the energy he used from the vibrance of his natural colors. When he didn’t use his abilities, it had no affect on him and his hair stayed a bright orange-red. When he overexerted himself, his freckles would fade, and his hair would begin to turn a bleach blonde, almost a white.

He guessed that having his powers physically stripped from him through that device placed in his chest would have the same affect.

Splice traced a finger down the stitches along his chest. Goosebumps broke the boy’s skin and he couldn’t help but shiver. The man hooked another finger around the ring in his collar and tugged at it ever so slightly. Andrew jerked against his restraints but it sent a jolt of pain throughout his chest and he gasped at the shock.

The man laughed and shook his head.

“Good to know you’re awake enough to move about. Or at least to wiggled.” Splice laughed.

“Let’s see, should we have another grammar lesson? Surely you remember the first one.”

Andrew kept his eyes closed and his mouth silent as Splice asked him the five questions.

“Who do you belong to?”

Silence. Splice sighed and continued.

“What are you.”

As the man’s frustration built he turned to another tactic and created a clone of himself. Splice seemed to melt from the top of his head, the ooze spilling onto the floor and then rising up again. The second man took shape and moved to stand on the other side of the table.

Andrew’s eyes shot open as he felt two more hands on his body. Splice already had one on his collar and a grip in his hair, but now the clone placed a cold hand in the middle of his chest and a second one gripped his upper arm.

“Where, and when?”

Andrew’s breathing got a bit heavier but he continued to remain silent, clenching his teeth.

“Why?”

Splice gripped the collar tighter, lifting Andrew’s head slightly off the table as he forced him to look him in the eye. The boy hiccuped out a breath but didn’t speak.

“Why resist? It’ll just make it harder for you in the long run.”

The clone stepped back to grab something out of the corner of Andrew’s eye. He couldn’t make out what the object was as it was handed to Splice.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” His fingers latched back into Andrew’s curls. “Who? Who do you belong to?”

The boy breathed deeply.

Himself. He didn’t belong to anyone.

He spoke the words carefully as he answered the question.

“Me. I belong to me.”

All of a sudden there was fire spreading around his leg in his left thigh. It was small but seemed to grow larger as the pain seemed to expand. It wasn’t until he had let out a gasp and a choked back sob that he realized it was a knife.

Just the tip poked into his thigh. It was barely half an inch deep but already he could see the blood wanting to seep out.

“Wrong answer.” Splice stated. “Let’s continue though shall we? What are you?”

Andrew knew what he needed to say, despite knowing he shouldn’t say it.

“A human with- with thoughts and feelings.”

He gasped and groaned through his teeth as the knife pushed into his leg deeper. Splice just shook his head.

“Where, and When?”

“Away from you.”

“You haven’t learned yet have you?”

As Splice spoke, the knife drove further into the flesh of his leg. Andrew stifled back a scream that soon erupted forth. After the initial pain had died down he felt able to breathe again.

“Lastly, Why?”

“Because I- because-” he took a deep breath, willing his voice to be steady before managing to get his answer out. “Because you’re cruel and inhuman.”

Andrew shrieked as the knife was pushed into his leg as far as it would go. There was a squelch and a thump as the hilt of the blade met his skin, blood pooling over the sides of his leg.

Splice melted apart to form a third clone.

“It looks like you didn’t learn anything from your last lesson. Shall we try again?”

The clone stood over Andrew, lifeless, emotionless. Just an empty shell of a physical body positioned to stand in one spot for the sake of intimidation.

Splice gripped the handle of the knife tightly, and Andrew could feel the cold metal of the blade inside of his leg, fighting against the throbbing muscles and bone.

Slowly, the man began to turn the knife inside of Andrew’s leg.

Andrew felt the knife tearing at the muscles, blood spurting out with every movement, and he howled.

He bucked against the table, thrashing as best as he could despite the restraints. He felt desperate to get away from the pain that was flaring up and down his leg. That fiery pain seemed to spread to his chest, making it tighter and harder to breathe. He sobbed as tears poured down his face.

“I hope you’ll finally learn something this time, hmm?”

Andrew clenched his eyes shut.

“Who do you belong to?”

The boy choked back a sob. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to give in, but more than anything he wanted to be away from the pain. And he knew that the only one to be free from pain, was compliance and obedience.

Splice asked once more.

“Who do you belong to?”

“I- I’m yours. I belong to- to you.”

Splice smiled and pulled the knife out a few inches. Andrew gasped, throwing his head back as it the blade moved in his leg.

“What are you?”

Andrew heaved out a breath, the tears streaming down his face.

“A- a tool. Used how- how you see fit.”

“Good, you’re catching on. Now where, and when.”

Andrew couldn’t breathe. Once more, he struggled for the breath that seemed to never come. But he had to answer. Answering meant less pain. Less struggle.

“Here. And for-” he hiccuped through a sob as he tried to form the words that he didn’t want to say. “And,- and for forever.”

The knife came almost the full way out of his leg that time. Just the tip remaining inside his flesh.

“And lastly, why? Why am I doing this Andy?”

The boy choked back a sob at the nickname.

That was something only his mom was allowed to call him. He’d lived without her for a few years now, but at this moment he wished for nothing more than to be curled up on her couch with his sisters- eating her home cooked food, laughing and smiling.

“Why?”

“Because I-” He could barely form the words throughout the sobs and wails that wracked his body. “Because I- I deserve it. I’m worthless.”

The knife left his body and clattered to the ground as Splice chucked it aside. Blood began to gush heavily from the open gash in his thigh, soaking his pants and pooling around the table.

Andrew was right. He felt worthless. He believed that he was.

Otherwise he would have been stronger. He wouldn’t have been so weak and given in to Splice so easily. The last time he’d seen his friends was in an argument. They were mad at him because he was so selfish. Because he didn’t care about that, because he was a terrible friend.

No wonder they hadn’t come for him.

And they weren’t ever going to come for him.

Because he was worthless.

Splice smiled, clearly satisfied.

“What did you say?”

Andrew moaned through his despair. The tears ran down his face.

“I- I’m worthless.”

“That’s right.” Splice stated. He melted into another clone that took a spot around the table. “You are only what I say you are. Nothing more. This is no longer your life, but mine.”

Beads of sweat dripped down the man’s forehead as he split into another clone, and then another.

There were six of them now. They surrounded Andrew on all sides, leaning over him, blocking his vision.

Splice was all he could see, and then it was all he could feel.

Cold, unfeeling hands grabbed at his limbs, invading his space. They gripped his legs, around his arms and neck, resting on his head, chest, or shoulders. The hands didn’t squeeze, or pinch, or inflict pain.

They just marked their ownership.

And Andrew was helpless to do anything about it.

He wished to be able to push them off. To throw himself off of that table and at Splice, tackling him to the ground, picking up the knife, to-

But he couldn’t.

He instead laid there.

No longer himself, but an obedient mind inside of a useless body.

Splice had claimed him.

He’d marked him with a collar and a whip. The man had broken him- literally, and left him as an empty shell of the funny, charming and energetic self that he used to be.

“I. Own. You.” Splice stated. “Do you understand?”

Andrew nodded. He was willing to do anything at this point to get the man’s hands off of him. To get Splice to leave him alone, to let him shrink into himself and hide.

“I- I understand. I’m sorry. Pl- please don’t-, please- I understand, I do. I’m sorry, please just- just, don’t I- I’ll-” His words were cut off by his own choked back sobs as he tried to plead and beg. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe for a relief of the pain and despair that he felt. Maybe for some satisfaction in hoping that if Splice listened to his pleas, he would still feel some semblance of control.

“Shh, I have plenty of time to hear you grovel later.” Splice stated. “For now, you have to be punished for speaking back earlier. For being defiant and arguing with me.”

At the sound of a punishment the boy’s heart began to beat faster, and he started to panic again.

“No!” He cried. “Please! Don’t I’ll- I’m, I’m sorry. Please, don’t just don’t I’ll be good, I promise, -let- let me be good please- please… just don’t- don’t punish me, please-”

Splice seemed amused and a little satisfied as the boy pleaded with him, but he remained stern.

“This punishment is for speaking out, so don’t you think you might want to shut your mouth?”

Andrew’s pleas stopped nearly immediately. Instead dying down to a small whimper and a cry, as the man sent off one of his clones to retrieve what was needed for the boy’s punishment.

Andrew couldn’t see what was happening as large hands came near his face. The oxygen tube around his nose was removed and tossed carelessly aside. His eyes were swelled with tears, and blurry without his glasses. He couldn’t make out what was happening until something cold and hard was being pressed up against his lips.

Instinctively he opened his mouth and the foreign item was shoved inside. It pressed up against his tongue and his teeth as he discovered it was made of rubber. As it was forced further into his mouth behind his teeth, thick fabric followed to wrap around his nose and under his jaw. The same cold hands lifted up his head, wrapping thick straps behind his neck and tightening them behind his ears.

The material was a soft leather, but to Andrew it felt like the toughest substance in the world. It restricted all movement to his mouth, and the bit inside muffled any sounds he tried to make.

A muzzle.

Out of instinct, he attempted to move his mouth to make any noise, form any word, but he couldn’t. He knew the efforts were futile. The leather was trapped too tightly around his face for anything to come out.

A whimper died out quickly as Splice chuckled, letting the boy’s head fall back onto the table.

“That should do it.” He stated.

Each clone melted one by one as Splice gave up the controls he had on them. They dissolved quickly, releasing their grips on Andrew’s limbs and body as the puddles evaporated.

Each of Andrew’s abilities to communicate had been stripped away. It had been nearly two days since he could move on his own, he had lost all control over his own body, and now, he couldn’t speak.

All he had left was his eyes.

The boy’s emotions were clear just by looking at them. Tears welled up uncontrollably and flooded out, streaming down his cheeks and landing in his hair.

Splice chuckled, satisfied with his results as he left the boy alone.

Broken, and silenced.

#whump #whump writing #oc #original work #carrot top #mild gore #knives #defiant whumpee #possessive whumper #restrained #dehumanization #oof I need to get some actual sleep for once #idk why I keep posting these at unreasonable times #especially when I have to work in the morning #oof sorry yall #maybe some night I'll actually upload at a reasonable hour of the day #tonight is not that night

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years ago

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 17 (nsfw elements)

I keep telling myself that it’s enough to have gotten this far, this is an adequate demonstration of bravery, that I should be impressed that I kept my nerve enough to even get to this point in the tunnel, but even though my heart quails and I’m shaking lightly, a kind of mixed blend of anxiety and terror at the prospect that something might be stalking me down here, I stay where I am as though my feet had grown roots.

For there in front of me, just as Makado had said there would be, is the puckered, anus-like entrance to a ballast bulb. Only took me roughly twenty minutes of crawling through a tight, suffocating, pitch-black venterial canal, all manner of slime and scum and filth caking around my face and arms. My suit will be an absolute mess but nobody will know the difference, most likely; after this first day all of the pristine and immaculate dull orange suits have become equally dirty - mine will just be a little fresher.

Getting out of the camp was surprisingly easy. I had crept by Joker with some trepidation, half expecting him to spring into life and go after me without Euler holding his leash, but all that happened was that the machine’s head had risen slightly as I had moved past and then settled down again.

I guess that after Makado and I had left to return to my hotel room and retrieve my gear, the team had asked Euler to showcase some of Joker’s other features and he’d activated some sort of autonomous mode. It had taken him some thirty minutes to set up, Elena had informed me, the back of Joker’s cranium hinged open and Euler poking around in there, but afterwards they’d lead him over to some sort of obstacle course Elena had called a ‘kill house’ and let him loose and the results had been so impressive and entertaining that they’d had Joker repeat the course four times before Euler had begged off, citing some sort of instability in the machine’s logical pathways…whatever that means. We hadn’t seen either of them for the rest of the day up until the party; Euler had explained, briefly, that he’d been working with the Engineering department to get radio tags working with Joker’s system so that while we were down here he know who was and wasn’t part of the team. Don’t go walking around without your suit, they’d warned us. Otherwise, if for some reason we do let him operate on his own, he might not know who’s who. Might act unpredictably.

Shades of Terminator, of Robocop. But I rolled my eyes at myself and brushed past him, let my hand press lightly against his burnished chestplate for just a moment – you can never be too superstitious – and then squeezed my way into the tunnel. There were no tents clogging its entrance on account of it being so small. I had to go on my hands and knees most of the way, except for a little bulbous bit in the middle where it widened up and I was able to stand.

I don’t know how I made myself go through it. I kept getting a prickling feeling along the back of my scalp, like something was stalking up behind me, but whenever I curled over and looked back there was nothing there, just the ribbed walls of the passage, like I was inside of a giant esophagus.

I had a panic attack halfway through. I don’t know what brought it on; I’m not prone to panic attacks, normally. I made it to a section where the tunnel dropped down a couple of feet, a sort of rough 45-degree angle, and I just started crying. I wanted fervently to be back at home in bed waking up from the crazy dream I’d been having. I wanted to go and listen to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel and follow along to the lyrics and not hear anything odd or unusual, just have my mind skip over everything like normal and have it all be okay. I wanted –

I don’t know what I wanted.

But at the end of it I rolled over onto my back and closed my eyes, and then I sat up and smoked a cigarette from the pack I’d smuggled in with me. Just one cigarette, and then I crushed the pack in my hand and threw it away. I kept the lighter, though; you never know when something like that will come in handy.

Then I got back on my knees and pulled my way through the tunnel and now here I am, nose still clogged and runny, but feeling better.

I have a knot at the base of my stomach the size of a baseball and I keep looking behind me, frightened that something’s going to grab me and eat me and that I’ll never see anybody – especially Elena – ever again. I’m afraid that I’ll drink this stuff and that’ll be a wrap for me, the Pit will have gotten its claws in me and I’ll be different, I’ll be changed somehow.

“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath. The cigarette had calmed my nerves a little and, to tell the truth, I’d been craving one after a few days without. A momentary pang of regret few through me on ghostly wings; I thought for a moment about going back and finding the pack I’d discarded but then my lip curled at the thought of myself grubbing around in the muck looking for it. I’m not that pathetic.

Getting the bulb’s entrance dilated enough for me to crawl through is tough work. I’m buried up to my elbows in the thing, feeling vaguely nauseated at the wrinkled folds of flesh just a few inches from my face. There’s some sort of sphincter-like muscle there banding around the opening like steel cord, but the more I press and lever with my elbows opposed the more it relaxes. Soon it’s large enough for my head, then for my shoulders, but I keep going to make sure that I can fit through with the added bulk of the suit.

The smell is intensely strange. I had thought for a while that it might remind me of a Coke Heartthrob, especially with memories of the last one I’d had still relatively fresh in my mind, but the smell is completely different, more…earthy and spicy and invigorating. It smells like…like vanilla. There is a distinct odor of vanilla. There’s still the same disgusting organic undertone to the air that pervades everywhere in the Pit, but it mixes with the drooling sweat odor pouring from the orifice in front of me to form something new and strange and…appealing. Appealing in the same way that a mixture of sweat and men’s deodorant can be appealing, appealing in the same way that –

I shake my head, try to clear it. Easy, girl. You’re just going to crawl in there, drink some of this stuff – I can feel my gorge rising again but I shut my eyes and count to five and breathe through my mouth and the feeling dissipates – and then crawl back out and go back to Elena and fall back asleep. That’ll be all.

The Pit groans, a little noise of stress and tension, and I jump.

“Fuck it,” I murmur again, and then I clamber into the orifice, feel it suck at my thighs and calves and feet as it tightens behind me, and then I slip down a slick, slippery surface of flesh and fall face-first into about three or four feet of murky, milk-white ballast. It takes me a moment to find a purchase on the rubbery flesh at the bottom of the pool but I do, finally, and then I come up sputtering, trying to clear my eyes. I haven’t drank any of it; some instinct screwed my mouth shut as soon as my head went under and I couldn’t force myself to open it for all that I tried.

I open my eyes and look round. The inside of the bulb is red and fleshy and membranous; there is a long rind-like deposit of something stretching between the ceiling and the floor, just a little off-center of the middle of the room, thick as a tree trunk. There are little curling wisps of some sort of vapor rising from the surface of the ballast; that must be what gives it such a strong smell. The odor’s grown even more intense here, inside the thing, and I can –

Huh.

I can feel something happening on my face, my hands, pretty much every piece of exposed skin that had gone under when I lost my balance and fell down the side of the bulb face-first. It’s hard to pin down at first, but then it resolves from an indistinct feeling to a light and pleasant tingling a little like the breathy feeling you get when someone’s been tickling you for a very long time and then they suddenly stop. I wait for a moment, cringing inwardly, but it doesn’t resolve into burning pain or – or whatever I expected, it just stays light and tingling and pleasant.

No wonder people liked to bathe in this stuff.

I raise my hand to my cheek hesitantly. The skin on my face feels softer somehow. Gentler, as though I hadn’t been baking in the West Texas sun for the last week or so. The same’s happened to my hands, I realize on closer inspection; the hard nubby calluses on either wrist, just above that little bone on the edge of the wrist, gained from hours spent working at a desktop typing, are now little more than suggestions of their former selves.

I spend a long while there, staring at my wrist, the detached headlamp clutched in my teeth. What the hell is this stuff going to do to me if I drink it?

But the tingling feeling is already abating, and it isn’t as though it took my skin off, didn’t disfigure me. Most likely, anyway. I probably look a couple of years younger. I prod at my forehead experimentally; it feels a little tighter.

“Fuck it,” I say again, and then I cup my hands and dip them into the pool of ballast at my feet, and then raise it to my lips and drink.

The taste is surprisingly mild and savory. The texture, though – it’s thick, thicker than water. It feels as though I’m drinking some kind of oil and for a moment it’s enough to make me gag, but I force down a couple of swallows and then, almost as soon as it hits my stomach, I feel a heat building there, the same kind of warm, pleasant one gets after they’ve eaten a large meal and want to do nothing other than lay down somewhere and not think for a while, just without the accompanying sensation of fullness. This dissolves after a moment into the same sort of tingling that I’d felt on my hands and face, only a dozen times stronger, and it turns into a sort of burning, fizzing sensation that races through my body, and I double over with the force of it but I’m grinning, I’m grinning so hard, because I’ve never felt so good –

And then I move wrong and I nearly scream at the sudden jolt of pleasure so intense that I initially mistook it for stabbing pain. It takes me a moment, frozen, eyes wide, to identify what happened, and then, cautiously, I isolate my chest and move it gently, trying to brush against the inside of the suit, and it sweeps through me again and even though my knees grow weak and I hear a low animal moaning echoing in the bulb, it takes me a disconcertingly long time for me to realize that it’s issuing from my mouth.

When I had moved my nipple had brushed up against the coarse fabric on the inside of the suit and I had almost came just from that. I flop against the side of the bulb and feel my breast through the suit carefully; it feels larger than usual, swollen somehow, and taut and sensitive, the nipple hard enough to cut glass. I look down and I can see it actually poking through the suit.

I get shakily to my feet, trying hard to avoid any other accidentally brushes like that, and I realize that I am incredibly, almost discomfortingly, wet. There’s a throbbing in my groin like a heartbeat and a warmth that quickly turns into an ache, a need for something to fill me. I shake my head again, trying to clear it, but it doesn’t do anything to help. I glance back down at the innocuous milky ballast; did I drink enough? Two cupped handfuls – not that much. But if it’s already doing this to me, can I handle more?

My hand, I realize, has gravitated to my crotch, and I’ve started rubbing myself through the suit. “Goddam it,” I hiss out loud, pulling my hand back like it was burned, my body aching for it to come back.

I can feel a small trickle run down my leg and I feel my lip curl, first in disgust, then it curls further into a lascivious grin. I think for a moment about undoing the bottom of the suit and just masturbating there, thinking I might get the demon off of my shoulders and out of my head with an orgasm or three, but while my hand is idly massaging my breast through the suit I think of Elena and such a surge of lust goes through me that for a moment I can’t even breathe. I squeeze at my chest through the suit until I feel pain and that wakes me a little, and then, still grinning, I rise and start to make my way back to the orifice, head filled with all of the things I’ll do to Elena when I get back to the tent, hands quivering lightly with anticipation. I find the light and fumble with it clumsily for a moment before I click it on and angle it up towards the opening so I can make my way out, but then when I see what the light is shining on I almost scream again and it is only the sudden presence of mind that makes me clap my hand to my mouth that stops me from shrieking.

For there, at the mouth of the bulb, is a pale human arm, stuck elbow-deep inside the orifice, and gradually wrenching it open!

I click the light off and drop into a low crouch and then slowly creep backwards, taking care not to make too much noise with the wet ballast up to my knees. I make it to the pillar-like deposit of – of whatever the hell it is in the center of the bulb and skirt behind it just as I hear the soft groan of the bulb’s sphincter giving up the fight against whoever is trying to make their way in here.

I scarcely dare to breathe. I can feel my heart thumping a million miles an hour and I can feel terror gnawing at me, trying to get its fangs in, but for the moment I’ve mastered myself. Whoever it is, they have a much more powerful light than I do, but they don’t seem to have spotted me; the light sweeps once, twice, around the inside of the bulb and then I hear a sliding sound of something heavy and then a definitely male grunt as whoever it is splashes into the ballast. I hear him set the light down and then indeterminate splashing, but at the very least he doesn’t seem to suspect I’m here.

Now that the immediate danger is over my body is urgently reminding me how horny I am. I bite my lip and bear it; if anything the feeling seems to be intensifying rather than falling off, especially since I’m not doing anything about it. If I don’t consciously think about it and stop myself I find my hands gravitating back to my breasts, to my groin, little twinges of pleasure making me bite my lip, suck in soft breaths. Finally I end up just putting my hands on my cheeks and keeping them there, to hell with whatever aching neediness I feel between my legs. I feel a little stupid, but if my hands are on my face I can keep track of them more easily.

I shift a little to the left and peek around the waxy deposit growing out of the ceiling and my mouth drops open; I see Crookshank’s ruddy cheeks and unruly sideburns, his powerful barrel chest heaving as he scoops handfuls of ballast from the pool and rubs it on his arms, his cheeks, his face. He’s undone his suit, the halves of it flopping around his waist, and as I watch he slaps the liquid on his bare chest, rubs it in like lotion.

This continues for another few minutes before he kneels and takes a great gulp of the fluid, and I gasp lightly, for he lapped up so much more than I had, and even though he is much bigger than I am and perhaps the same principle as alcohol applies, perhaps he can handle much more of it, I shudder to think of what that much of the fluid would have done to me.

He stands there for a long while, leaned against the wall, eyes shut, his cheeks slowly growing even redder, and then he zips his suit down further and starts to jerk himself off. I lean back around the deposit and force myself not to think about it but I can’t help it, I can’t get the image out of my head, I can’t stop myself from salivating over it, from thinking of the way it’d feel inside of –

No. Stop. He’s going to jerk off and then he’ll leave and then you can get out of here and never talk about this ever again.

But if that’s the case, goddam it, why am I fucking touching myself, why is it so much easier to peek my head around the corner like this and watch him and rub myself through the suit. He’s not even hot, he isn’t my type, fuck, I wouldn’t have thought twice about him, but with this – with this drug in my body I can’t stop myself from thinking about him taking a fistful of my hair and bending me over and then forcing himself into –

Stop.

I crouch there in the dark, reeking of ballast, listening to Crookshank grunt rhythmically as he fucks his hand, and then finally he lets out a louder grunt and I swear, I swear I can hear it hit the ballast. I’m crying, I realize again, something’s short-circuited inside of me and all I can do is cry and rage at the stupid animal cage I’m trapped in, the stupid animal cage that wants to get bent over and fucked and used. I don’t want to have to think, I don’t want to have to be like this, I don’t want to -

Crookshank leaves and I finally let out a shaky breath. I’m still unbearably, agonizingly horny. I think about touching myself, about just getting it over with, but again I think of Elena, and I think of Crookshank, of goddam motherfucking Crookshank grunting like a bear in heat, and suddenly I feel as though doing it here would make me vomit. I don’t want to see this place again, I don’t want to even think about it. I want to just go back and crawl into the tent and let Elena hold me and wake up clean. Except…

I eye the murky surface of the ballast.

What if the amount I drank isn’t enough? What if I should have drank more, what if if I leave now I’ll be throwing away the only chance I get? I doubt we’ll have time for me to sneak back here on the return trip, and even if we did I don’t want to take my chances running into Crookshank or whoever else.

But Christ, if the small amount I drank is doing this to me…

I reach down and cup a small amount in my hand. I raise it to my mouth and then stop, then I squeeze my eyes shut and drink it down. I stand there and sway and shudder as the heat intensifies. I put my arms around myself and clutch and just hold my ribs tight until I feel as though I can move, and then I make my way to the orifice and force my way out of it. It’s easier going out than in, although I still have to squeeze. I nearly shriek again as it presses against my breasts unexpectedly, and the sudden pressure and the burning jolt of pleasure makes me buck my head, momentarily lost in the sensation, but I claw my way out, manage to clear my head somehow and keep moving. The smell of ballast has become sickening, and as I crawl my way down the long ventricular canal back to the camp I feel as though it’s clinging to me and I’ll never be able to get it off, no matter how many showers I take, no matter how hard I scrub myself.

I happen upon my discarded pack of cigarettes and laugh to myself even as I ache to see if any of them escaped destruction, but I keep my dignity and pass it by. Well, some of my dignity; I’m so horny now that even the soft rubbing together of my thighs, a motion forced by the tight quarters where I have to go on my hands and knees, is becoming unbearable. I keep arching my back and imagining filthy things and pawing at myself, but somehow I manage to keep enough of my mind from crumbling in on itself to make my way back to the camp. I squeeze past Joker again, trailing my fingers along his shoulders, the cool dull spark of the metal on my fingertips seeming newly sensitive to my revitalized fingers. It’s late, it’s so late, but I feel agonizingly awake. I find the tent, slip out of the suit as quickly as I reasonably can, leave it crumpled on the fleshy floor next to Elena’s neatly folded suit, and then I unzip the tent and clamber in.

Elena’s eyes are tracking me there in the dark, little glittering jewels glinting at me. She rolls over as I move fully into the tent and I am so unspeakably happy to see her that for a moment I can do nothing more than squat there on my haunches with an idiot grin plastered all over my face before she smiles at me softly.

“Hi,” she says, her voice grown innocent, still heavy with sleep.

I breathe her name like it’s a prayer and then I am kissing her and she kisses me back, a laugh bubbling in her throat as she does, and I can’t stand it any more, I have to be closer to her, I want all of her, I want everything, and while she makes little delighted sounds of amusement and disbelief at how insatiable I am I kiss my way all over her, grinding against her thigh as I do, and when she reaches up for me and finds my breasts I shudder and arch my back inwards, trying to press more of myself against her.

“Missed me?” she asks, her thumbs working in slow circular motions. She has a smug little smile on her face. I’m panting I want her so bad. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just nod. Her hand trails upwards from my breast and I let out a little whining moan. It fixes around my throat, squeezes lightly, and I swallow. Her other hand tracks down my stomach and I can feel my hips buck gently as I know what’s coming, and I grin at her, but she stops just before where I want her to, tangles her fingers in my pubic hair, massages me there, and though I try to angle my hips forward and slide her fingers against me, wet and slick and willing, she stays agonizingly still.

“Why do you smell like ballast, Roan?” she asks, cocking her head at me. Her eyes have gone cold and calculating and her grip on my neck has become very, very strong. I want to fuck so badly that the well of fear bursting in my gut is something I can barely recognize, barely react to. I open my mouth and let out another little moan.

“Elena,” I groan, “I don’t –“

“Oh, don’t lie,” she murmurs. I see her eyes flick down to my nipple and then she darts forward and latches onto it with her mouth, eyes still fixed on mine, at least until she brings her teeth together extremely gently and I shudder, starbursts blossoming in my vision. Then she lets me go with a wet pop that I find incredibly, unspeakably lewd. I feel as though my cheeks are on fire.

“Your name isn’t Merriweather either, is it?” she asks me.

“Elena,” I say again. It’s all I can say. I can’t summon the breath for anything more complicated.

“See,” she says, “after you left I thought I’d stay awake until you got back. But you took a long, long time. So then I started thinking,” she says, punctuating the statement with a sharp gesture downwards with her finger, just brushing against me, and it feels like heaven.

“Y-you can’t,” I start, giving her a pleading look, but she’s enjoying this too much. The torture will end when she wants it to.

“Then I looked up your personnel file, cause I wanted to creep on you. Only guess what?”

I shut my eyes.

“Right,” she says, squeezing my throat a little tighter. “You don’t have one.”

“Elena,” I say very carefully, trying to keep my voice from pitching upwards into a moan, “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can,” she says. When I crack my eyes open she’s looking at me with something resembling sympathy. “But I don’t care about that right now.”

“You don’t?”

She moves her hand downward, lets go of my throat. I gasp slightly, and then when she inclines her middle finger slowly upwards and brushes against me I gasp harder. “Tell me this is real,” she says.

“W-what?”

“Tell me,” she repeats slowly, “that this is real. That you aren’t using me to get down here, that there’s not some ulterior motive at play. Tell me it’s real, Roan.”

Her finger presses inside of me and I collapse against her, bury my face into her neck, kiss her again and again, leave a trail of bite marks in my wake. “It’s real,” I moan into her ear, and then she fits another finger into me and all I can see is her wide grin growing wider before the night dissolves into a parade of sensual enjoyments, of flesh and reactions and noises burned indelibly into my frantic, pleasure-drunk brain.

* * *

When we’re done finally and whatever effect the ballast had on me is fading, Elena curls me into her arms and I kiss her softly. My mouth and tongue are still a little tired but it was infinitely worth it. We stay like that in fuzzy oblivion for only a moment before Elena inclines her head and nuzzles at my forehead with her nose.

“So who are you really?” she asks me. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh,” I groan. “It is a long story.”

Elena laughs quietly. “Well, we’ve got nothing but time.”

“It must be so late,” I tell her. “Shouldn’t we get to sleep?”

“It’s midnight.”

”What?”

“See?” she asks, twisting around a little to show me her watch. It’s a huge clunky tactical-looking thing. I almost laugh at it. “Down here the name of the game is early to bed, early to rise. I know Sarge will get us going later though, cause of you and Euler. You won’t be used to it.”

“Well,” I say, not knowing what else to. Elena holds me tighter.

“So tell me,” she says simply, and so I tell her.

She handles it well, but it’s not a very difficult story. It even makes sense in places, I think. I skirt around the main issue for a while but eventually seize on it and just tell her. When she doesn’t react I glance up at her, meet her level gaze. “It’s only transmitted through blood-to-blood contact,” I say quickly. “So we don’t have to worry about –“

“I know how it works,” she tells me. “Still sort of the thing you ought to tell someone about before you fuck them.”

I feel myself flush; Elena sees too. She takes my chin in her hands, looks down at me. “It’s okay,” she tells me. “I get why you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s okay.”

“I’m sor-“

“Shh.”

We lay there in silence for a while longer. “They told you you were allergic?” she asks. “At the hospital?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“That’s what they said? Verbatim?”

I can feel everything shrinking into myself. “Yes,” I say quietly. “I think so, I – yes.”

“Or did they say it was like you were allergic?”

“No, they – well. I don’t know. You’re making me doubt myself.”

“Medicine can go off,” she says. “It can go bad. If it did and they didn’t know and used it anyway, if it had been mislabeled, you might have gone into shock, you might have –“

“I don’t want to –“

“Shh,” she says again, holding me to her. I try to pull away but she doesn’t let me. More than anything I want her to stop asking questions, I want her to just hold me here and not judge me, not say anything. I feel fragile, I feel like a thousand needles are poking in at me just millimeters from my skin and if I make one motion they’ll stick –

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and she laughs.

“What the hell are you sorry for?” she says. She runs a hand through my hair and try as I might not to like it, I like it. I like the way it feels. “What else were you going to do?” she asks. “You were scared, you didn’t know any better. You wanted to run from it and not confront it, I don’t think there’s shame in that. And then you found out about this place and everything just fell like dominoes.”

“Yeah,” I agree in a small voice.

“Fucking cruel of Veret to send you down here, though.”

“I asked for it,” I say. “She didn’t want to.”

Elena grunts.

“You don’t like her much, do you?” I ask.

“I think,” Elena says after a long time, “that after 2007 she should have gotten as far away from this place as she could and found something that made her happy.”

“I don’t understand –“

“Makado made it her mission to make sure the Pit could never hurt anybody ever again,” she tells me, “when she got Head of Sec. But that’s impossible, you know. The thing’s so large, there’re so many ways in, so many ways out, you can’t do anything about it. She lets it eat her up.”

“You didn’t call her ‘Veret’ just then,” I point out. Elena looks at me.

“I don’t hate her. I just think that she isn’t suited for the job.”

“You really don’t care that I lied to you?” I ask her.

“About who you are? No. In the same circumstances I’d have lied to you.”

Elena has been kneading my hipbone gently with her thumb for the past five minutes, and the rhythmic motion is going to put me to sleep soon. I kiss her again, near her collarbone, and shut my eyes. Elena holds me tighter, there in the dark, and for a moment I’m able to not worry.

Just as I’m about to drift off, all wrapped up and warm and happy, still basking in the afterglow, I feel her thumb stop.

“But if I find out that you’re lying about this being real…” she murmurs, very softly, clearly thinking that I’ve fallen asleep, and there is such a knife-edge of menace in her voice that I lay there for a long, long time in her arms, even after her breathing has become low and regular and even, trying to will myself to fall asleep.

Continue with Part 18

Back to Table of Contents

#mystery flesh pit #down the rabbit hole #writing #writeblr #alt lit #Michael Crichton #thriller #novel #original writing

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Two Sides of the Coin (13)

Chapter 13: Strange Way of Finding Things | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: This was supposed to be a full-length flashback chapter but I looked at the word count and I just-- 😳😵😧😬 So I just decided to split it because I don’t wanna drag you guys on with more than 5000 words of a single chapter. I would’ve broken my record average word count 😜 anyway, I hope y’all are ready for the angst

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @berenilion @justtinfoley @stellar-trinity @peterwandaparker @calgasm @queen-destenie @calsponchoemporium @cal-jestis @ayamenimthiriel @sweeetteaa @fallenjedii @superwarsofthrones

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Additional (last 2 tags count as TW): Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta Fem OC, Jedi Seeker! Fem OC, family separation, separation anxiety

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 | Previous: Part 12 | Next: Part 14 | Masterlist

13 of ?

31 BBY

ESHYN, LAU’NON SYSTEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The clouds clear a path for the Jedi Starfighter, aboard it is the young Jedi Seeker, Nomara Anesh, one of the youngest seekers at only 34 years old.

Her aerial view of the archipelago captivated her as she flew by the land mass. The sapphire blue coastline surrounded the island, high mesas with a vast carpet of grass framed the formation while the torrential waves kissed the rigid rock faces with its ivory-white seafoam and mist.

It was simply breathtaking.

Though it saddened her that the Trade Federation has begun to press its ugly thumb into this tropical masterpiece. Prior to her visit, Nomara did her reading on the planet, its current political and economic state as well. She has always been the curious one amongst her batch—said her former master—thus resulting to her inquisitive upbringing.

“There it is, Evy,” Nomara peered through the side window of the cockpit. “Sa’Junna: where we need to be.”

She afforded another pass above the main island, searching for a safe place to land with the assistance of the astromech droid.

“Do you see anything, Evy?”

The droid, EV-65 or Evy as Nomara personally nicknamed it, chirped in excitement, equally as captivated as its Jedi owner; the droid popped out a tiny satellite from a small hatch on its dome head.

The young woman managed a smile at her droid’s happy trills, but something stirred within her as she approaches the island. The closer she got, the swirling at the pit of her stomach became stronger—though, it didn’t alarm her because she doesn’t sense anything wrong with it; nevertheless, whatever the Force was subtly telling her, it intrigued her.

“Bee-beep!!”

“Great job, Evy. Override the landing cycle now,”

“Beeep-doo!”

It took Evy a few seconds before relaying the area coordinates for a safe landing area to Nomara’s dashboard. A virtual map of the island flashed and a green blip blinked over the center section of the land mass. The Jedi followed the lead and managed to dock her ship in between the capital and a village half a mile away from each landmark. The droid remained on the ship while Nomara dismounted the vessel.

The city of Sa’Junna was developed by a civilization of old, and then later cultivated and nurtured by the past generations until the current one. Having grown and thrived for countless millennia, a great majority of the residents were humans, but other humanoids like Twi’leks and Nautolans have migrated to this idyllic sanctuary. The place appeared to have seen better days priors to the Trade Federation’s occupation.

Nomara could see the bustle of trade in the city, it wasn’t as grand as Coruscant or Naboo, but the prosperity is evident.

Upon alighting her starship, she was promptly greeted by a tall stature of a human male with a greying beard that covered half of his olive-skinned face. He gestured with open arms, welcoming the Togruta, while subtly keeping a tinge of caution in his words and actions.

Nomara bowed slowly and solemnly in greeting.

“Welcome, traveler. What is it that you seek in our already-disturbed home?”

“The exact disturbance you speak of, friend.”

The tribe leader introduced himself as Sentuk Nirmo, he governed one of the villages that networked with the main city—where most of the trade transpires. Seeing that Nomara bore better will than the Trade Federation’s emissaries, he invited her into their settlement where they could speak openly within closed walls. As they walked, Sentuk briefed Nomara of their situation.

“At first, they wanted the metal. But when they found the deeper caverns, that’s when they’ve completely sucked our mines dry! The Federation has robbed us of our own homeland.” Sentuk grieved, and then added. “They barricaded the Yishen Strait—our main trade route—from civilians and real traders. Since then, business has been slow for many of us.”

Sentuk’s voice trailed off when he noticed Nomara subtly panning her head left and right, as if searching for something. The Jedi apologized for zoning out, the tribe leader dismissed it as a fascination towards the planet as well as exhaustion—and so he invited her to their settlement. The Togruta follows the Sentuk into the village; along the way, he explains that each village has a leader which then comprises the council. With every step, the faint trace of the Force that Nomara has picked up gotten stronger.

Sentuk presented his humble home, it seems that the Federation has already left its mark in this village along with the others surrounding the capital city—Nomara looked around and found children playing out in the open, whilst weavers make baskets and rucksacks out of their looms for the hunters to store their game, other residents tend and plow their modest vegetable gardens and orchards.

“It seems so peaceful here,” Nomara’s smile faded as instantaneously as it appeared. “But I sense the distraught in these people.”

Sentuk hummed in agreement, recalling his grievance of their overall predicament. Nomara’s brows pulled together, she closed her eyes for a moment to detect that trail she’s picked up.

“There’s something else,” she mumbled so quietly that Sentuk barely heard.

The Togruta blinked her eyes open and the first thing she saw was a small girl watching the other children play—she looked like she had just learned how to stand and walk. Forgetting that she stood with the tribe leader, Nomara approached the child slowly until the girl acknowledged her with wide, quiet eyes bursting with curiosity.

She knelt down to level with the child, she offered her open palm, and without a single ounce of hesitation the toddler placed her pudgy hands on the vibrant red-skinned palm of the visitor. Their eyes met, Nomara’s heart leapt for a reason she can’t explain, her lips involuntarily curled and by impulse, her fingers folded around the soft, tender hand.

“Jidné!” a melodic voice beckoned from the cottage.

Both Nomara and the child turned to the direction of the voice, it was the mother. Nomara slowly hoisted herself back to her full height, when the mother stepped out of the doorway of their home, two more little girls followed behind her—presumably the little one’s older sisters—but they kept themselves close by the skirt of their mother, intrigued and at the same time shy of the unusual-looking visitor.

“I’m sorry, I just…” stammered the Jedi softly. “Your daughter.”

The mother flashed a friendly smile, “Yes, what about her?”

“She’s strong with the Force. For someone so little, she carries a significant amount of it within her.”

The woman immediately got the hint, she’s heard the stories, though this is the first time she’s met one in the flesh. Her eyes wandered to the waistband of the Togruta’s robes and spotted the silver hilt shimmering, dominating the neutral colors of her clothes.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my name is Nomara Anesh,” the Jedi bowed her head briefly as soon as she uttered her own name.

“My name is Tymara Sheedra, I see you have met my little Jidné,” the woman peeked over the backside of her skirt, spotting her two other daughters, she introduced Krea and Maryn—aged eleven and eight respectively. The girls greeted the Togruta who beamed a gentle smile at them as she returned the gesture.

Nomara clarified that she was a Seeker and stated her purpose to Tymara, the Togruta’s emotions synched with the other woman’s—that friendly smile reduced into a poker face and then replaced with a blank smile.

“Um… Why don’t we talk inside? I just finished making supper,” Tymara invited the guest into her house, who politely obliged despite the tension.

The single-storey cottage was quaint, although each room was cramped and limiting to a number of persons inside. The kitchen was in the same space as the dining table—which lacked chairs and had woven cushions and mantles in its place. If one is to peek a little bit to their right, they could see the bedroom—the girls’ beds were thick-enough cushions each sitting atop a wooden frame, whilst the parents’ bed is settled on another side of the room; the only thing distinguishing the “rooms” was a wooden divider panel.

Nomara wagered this house couldn’t fit any more family members, Jidné would be the live marker of the home’s limit. She settled herself by the table—across where she sat, the three girls played in a small space that only fit them perfectly without needing to duck or crouch, the two older sisters watched with great fascination as Jidné lift a doll off the floor without touching it, Nomara watched intently along with them.

Tymara offered her a bowl of broth and bread on the side.

“I’m really sorry about our house. It’s not exactly much, isn’t it?” Tymara initiated quite apologetically, poking the bits of meat in the soup.

“I don’t mind,” Nomara awkwardly chuckled, parroting Tymara’s nervous poking before scooping up a spoonful and then bringing it into her mouth.

“What is it that you Seekers do?”

“We search the galaxy for Force-sensitive children. We bring them to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant and then train them into becoming Jedi Knights like myself.”

Tymara bit her lip and gawked emotionlessly at her food, it took her a good minute before she started to touch her food again. She spoke again, but didn’t face Nomara when she did.

“Have you come for her?”

The Jedi’s head perked to the mother, Tymara let the bottom of the spoon float above the soup—sensing her fluctuating appetite swirling together with the anxiety slowly eating away her mind; Nomara inhaled deeply, ceasing to touch her food to find the right words to say.

“Not specifically. I didn’t even know it was her until I… well, found her. The Force—or perhaps the universe—has a strange way of showing things we need to see when we least expect it, no matter how difficult it is to accept the signs.”

“And this Force… showed you to my daughter?”

“It would appear so,”

“Are you going to take her from me?”

“I wouldn’t force it,” Nomara replied somberly, as if understanding the grief of separation. In a way, she has felt that in one way or another.

There was silence, even the girls have purposefully hushed their voices and giggling to secretly listen to their conversation between the guest and their mother—even the little, two-year-old Jidné followed suit of her sisters.

“Eshyn isn’t what it used to be anymore, this was my home, and my husband’s, and our parents…” Tymara mumbled, watching her daughters resume playing. “We thought the Federation would make us prosper—because that’s what they promised us. You could imagine how stupid we all felt when the Trade Federation delivered the perfect opposite of what they told us. Ever since then, life has been hard for all of us. Especially the children—even if they don’t see it that way, at least not yet.”

Nomara understood Tymara’s sentiments, after all, she is a mother just looking for out for children and wanting what’s only best for them. The collective giggling of the girls was the only thing that warmed the abode today.

“Where’s their father?”

Tymara’s clasped fingers tightened around one another, she breathed deeply and bit her lip before she spoke a word.

“I lost him to a mining accident… because they wanted more metal. That’s all we ever heard from them. More metal. More work. More yields.”

“I’m sorry,” Nomara averted her gaze to the food that had now gone cold.

Little Jidné approached the table, specifically to Nomara’s side. She waddled towards the Jedi, the baby stared and studied the vibrant indigo patterns of the montrals while feeling its texture; then her pudgy paws found the tassel of turquoise beads that framed the side of the Togruta’s face, mistaking it for a toy. The two women giggled, endeared the little one’s innocence as Jidné continued to lightly swat the accessory and watch it dangle, immediately and easily entertained. Eventually, her sisters joined in and bombarded the Togruta with questions of wonderment—to name a few, they asked her where her species lived, if the white patterns on their faces were actual skin or tattoos, and how long can their montrals grow.

Nomara is simply overwhelmed by the cheeriness of these three girls combined, but the unexplainable lightness of Jidné prevailed. She knew it was the girl’s Force energy, but also the purity of her heart and spirit.

Tymara smiled at the sight of her youngest daughter getting along too easily with their visitor, but it was a sad smile—in her mind, she was already arguing against herself for the betterment of her youngest. With the occupation rendering them dirt poor and being a single parent, she had to make the toughest decision of her life. It took Tymara the entire evening to let it sink into her and toughen herself up even though she’s already falling apart because of their economic state.

By sunset, the entire village was rattled by the presence of the Trade Federation emissaries and their guards—a small unit of battle droids. What barred them from taking a step further into the settlement is Sentuk, with his warriors and hunters united to making a barricade out of themselves to protect their home.

“Not one step further!” Sentuk bellowed.

“I am sure you are aware of your settlement’s dues, old man,” the Neimoidian official flapped its trouty lips at the tribe leader.

“Your demands do not have a single drop of realism in them! You demand large yields over a short period of time, not even the manpower of two villages combined can make that quota,”

“Yeah, with what you’ve done with our mines—that quota is ridiculous!” added a spear-wielding warrior standing beside Sentuk and the men behind them murmured in agreement.

“Is your brain smaller than what it appears?!” taunted another man in the barricade, the joke was received differently from each party.

Vexed and provoked, the Neimoidian emissary raised a finger at Sentuk.

“I have given you more than enough time for that quota and you have failed me once more! I told you what would come to you should you not do what you are asked!”

A hasty wave of the hand prompted the guards to aim their rifles at the people making up the human barricade, the people in the village shrieked in fright—many of which have already retreated into their homes but peered through their windows. Nomara, who had been observing the sour exchange between the leader and the slimy emissary, rushed into the scene a split second after the command to fire has been given—killing off five of the men already and fatally wounding Sentuk after being shot in the side of his stomach.

“Jedi!? Here!?” the Neimodian screeched in a panic.

All of the villagers completely retreated into their homes—including Tymara and the girls—while Nomara aided the warriors in eradicating the battle droids, leaving the empty-handed emissary standing amongst the pile of dead clankers. Completely befuddled and frightened for his life, Nomara had him at swordpoint.

“I… I didn’t give the order! I’m just a messenger…!” he whimpered and his sheer terror had unconsciously dragged his legs to make him run away, leaving the wake of the ruined droids behind him.

When the tension eased, Nomara quickly turned her attention to the wounded Sentuk. A group of people have already gathered around him.

“Bring him to your healer, quickly now!”

The group carried their leader by the feet and underneath his arms, they briskly brought him to the cottage of the village healer while Nomara caught her breath and examined the droids’ remains. She felt the gaze of Tymara piercing right through her, she found the mother and children huddled by the doorway after the skirmish; Nomara saw the sad, disdainful sigh of the mother as she herded her children back into the house again.

After tucking the girls to bed, Tymara joined Nomara who was overlooking the coastline; the ocean breeze made the ladies’ robes and skirt billow wildly above the grass. There was a voiceless banter between the women, as if they have already began this conversation in their minds and linked it to each other.

“Will she be taken care of?” Tymara blurted.

Taken aback by the question, Nomara turned her head to the mother and stared at her for a long moment, unaware that her lips have parted due to the surprise. She turned her eyes back to the ocean slowly being devoured by the evening’s darkness.

“What?”

“Jidné. If you bring her with you, to become a Jedi, will she be taken care of?”

“Tymara, a Jedi’s hard life is a hard life,” Nomara shifted her body to face Tymara. “Jidné will have to grow up facing a lot of dangers as she grows up if she comes with me.”

Tymara bitterly chuckled, more of a nasal exhalation than an actual laugh, “Better than scratching the earth for her next meal. At least I know that she lives fighting for something honorable.”

“What about you? And Krea and Maryn?”

“We’ll manage. They’ve already learned how to loom and tend farms, they know their craft well. But for Jidné, well…” Tymara licked her lips. “This will always be her home, but I know she’s made for something greater. I just know it. You can never underestimate a mother’s intuition.”

Nomara smiled, although sadly, mostly for Tymara and the girls. Having nothing more to say, the two of them continued to look into the horizon, finding an individual sort of comfort underneath the pale blue moonlight.

“No, I suppose not.”

That night, Tymara snuck upon her sleeping daughters, but fixated her eyes on the youngest—plump cheeks squished against the pillow, her round and supple belly rising and falling as she slept, and her twitching eyelids made Tymara wonder what the little one could be dreaming of. She knelt down by Jidné’s bedside, her hands smoothly glided over her soft head and fine head of dark hair, and leaned forward to kiss Jidné’s forehead—it was a long kiss, and even after she pulled her lips away, the roundness of the baby’s cheek perfectly fit the curve of Tymara’s nose bridge, inhaling Jidné’s infant scent.

The woman bit her lip as she battled with her tears. It’s going to be a long night for Tymara.

Nomara watched from the open doorway, arms crossed with each other, there was a heavy gloom around the house that suffocated her—not even sighing deeply helped. She retired to the space in the bedroom that Tymara had personally fixed up for her.

In the morning of their departure, Tymara held her youngest daughter for the final time and rocked her as if putting her to sleep. Her sisters, as well, bade their own tearful goodbyes to their baby sister, ceaselessly riddling her plump cheeks with kisses and leaving tears stains upon her skin—in a way, Jidné is lucky that she is unaware that this is the sorrow of parting.

Tymara nuzzled her cheek against Jidné’s smooth forehead. One last embrace and a kiss buried into the crook of the child neck; with her eyes closed, she imagined how Jidné would grow up to be—but she’s completely certain that she’d grow up to be a strong, courageous woman—and she painted a mental picture of how her daughter would look like once she’s come of age.

In a prayerful solemnity, Tymara whispered all of her wishes for Jidné to Jidné herself—be strong and brave yet remain kind, wise, and gentle; make good friends with the other children if she meets any; listen well to the instructions of the elders; and most importantly, listen to her heart.

Tymara savored this last moment, Nomara was kind enough to give all the time she needs—the Togruta passed the time by prepping her Starfighter and doing the necessary maintenance checks before takeoff.

“I love you… I love you so much, my darling girl,” Tymara feigns a brave face. She held Jidné right in front of her, then Jidné’s pudgy hands caressed both of her cheeks, and that’s when she lost it—tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting the child’s tiny fingers.

The true, final embrace and kiss from her mother before Jidné is transferred to the arms of Nomara Anesh.

“You have my word. She’ll be treated well.”

“I know,” muttered Tymara quite weakly, rubbing her arms together to whisk away the cold goosebumps pelting her skin. “I know.”

Tymara watches her daughter walk away in the arms of the Togruta. She watches a part of her heart and soul shrink in the distance, unaware eyes looking over the shoulder of the Seeker and back into the grieving eyes of her mother. Tymara’s hand flinched into a short-lived wave and quickly brought them to her lip, biting into her fingernails until her daughter has fully disappeared in a ship with Nomara and out of Eshyn.

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whimperwoods · 5 years ago

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Vampire Whumpee Jules - Rules

Speaking of things I haven’t actually forgotten - this is a continuation of Jules’s story, which I started as part of the 19-day whump challenge I did back in February.

Here’s the challenge masterpost, and the other post-challenge part Defanged.

After overdosing as a result of a “prank” by the employees at the blood bank and collapsing, Jules finds himself in the clutches of a mysterious man who paid money for him and then brought him to this strange, empty building. He thought the black-market trade in captive vampires, and all that comes with it, was just a rumor, an urban legend. He was wrong.

tw: captivity, tw: slavery, tw: strapped down, tw: blood, tw: IVs, tw: shock collar, tw: electrocution, tw: dehumanization, tw: misnaming? non-con name change? whatever you wanna call it

Tag list: @inky-whump , @insanitywishes (Let me know if you want to be added!)

*****

Jules was still crying weakly when the large man hooked him up to an IV for a blood transfusion, the refrigerated blood making him feel cold to the core, even as it strengthened him. He’d tired himself out with sobbing, his body stretched too thin, but the slow, steady stream into his arm kept him from completely falling apart. He sniffled and snorted, trying to clear his nose after all the tears.

His mouth still tasted of putrid, dead blood, his own drying and recycled fluids, half-poison and disgusting. He tried to clear his throat, but there was nothing to clear them with, nothing to stop the slow, gradual leaking of more blood from his torn gums, and with his shoulders strapped down to the bed beneath him, he couldn’t sit up far enough to spit it out.

The smaller man had stroked his hair, had moved to comfort him, but if the large man thought anything of the little sniveling sounds still coming out of Jules, or the tears running down his face, he didn’t show it. The room was silent, and the man’s face was impassive, watching the line drip blood and strength slowly, slowly back into Jules’s body.

His stomach hurt as much as ever, empty and hollow, but the taste in his mouth was so foul and nauseating that he almost didn’t mind being given blood this way, instead of being allowed to feed.

The wounds in his mouth and across his face knitted slowly closed as the fresh blood twisted its way through his system. The last of the burns followed, and then healing just meant feeling stronger, strong enough to shiver against the extra cold of the new blood, strong enough for his heart and lungs to shore themselves up again until he knew he had it in him to sob like he had before, if he had any desire to.

By the time the smaller man returned, Jules had calmed and settled, still sniffling but no longer crying.

The man smiled, standing over Jules and looking him straight in the eye. “There you are. You know, now that you’re all healed up, you’re almost handsome. You’ll do well on the market.”

Jules cleared his throat. “Please, Sir, I-”

A jolt of electricity came from his collar, making him cry out as his muscles seized. It was gone almost as soon as it was there, but he could feel the burn of it continuing even after the current was gone, could feel the resistance of his heart and lungs to start back up again.

“No speaking out of turn,” the large man said, still calm and impassive.

The noise Jules made in response was pathetic, mewling, and his face flushed with embarrassment.

The smaller man glared. “I told you to wait until after he’s received his instructions. Be patient.”

He smoothed Jules’s hair back from his forehead again, a single, comforting motion, and then his face twisted into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one Jules didn’t quite believe. Jules shuddered, barely managing to stop another noise from choking out of him.

“Now,” the man said, his voice light and friendly, “We’re going to go over some ground rules.”

Jules watched the man’s face for any sign of real feeling, but met only a blank, genial mask.

The man put a hand under Jules’s chin, holding his jaw gently. His head wasn’t strapped down, but Jules instinctively knew not to pull away. “I’m sure you meant well calling me ‘Sir,’“ the man began, “Politeness will serve you well. But you’re to call me ‘Master.’ Is that clear?”

Jules’s heart sank and his stomach felt like it had dropped clear through the bed beneath him. He nodded.

“Say it aloud.”

For a moment, Jules hesitated. He’d hoped he’d misunderstood, hoped somehow, somehow this wasn’t what it seemed like, but - the man let go of Jules’s chin and held his hand out toward the big man. The big man handed over the remote control to Jules’s collar.

“Yes, Master!” he blurted, as fast as he could.

His master smiled, real this time, but cold as ice, and Jules shuddered again.

“You will respond quickly to my orders, vampire. Or you will feel it.” His master waved the remote control at him and then, all of a sudden, pressed the button, sending another shock through Jules’s bound form.

This time, the pain drove a deep, guttural groan from him, and when it was over, Jules found himself gasping, panting for breath.

“What do you say?”

Jules was still fighting to breathe, fighting to get his lungs in order, but he managed a warped, gasping, “Yes - Master.”

His master chuckled, running a hand back through Jules’s hair. “Good boy.”

Jules’s eyes were full of tears again, but he didn’t let himself make a sound beyond the gasps of his breath.

His master pointed to the other man. “You will call him ‘Sir’. Or ‘Trainer,’ if you need his attention, but I wouldn’t use it out of turn, if I were you.”

Jules trembled, meeting the trainer’s blank, emotionless gaze. “Yes, Master,” he answered quietly.

His master smiled again, a smile that had started to warm slightly. Another gentle stroke through his hair. “Good boy.”

Jules blushed. He wasn’t a dog. He wasn’t. He didn’t want to be pet like this, didn’t want empty, callous comfort, but he didn’t fight it, simply looked away, trying to avoid both their gazes.

“No, no,” his master said, “Eyes on me while I’m talking to you.”

Jules turned to look at him, his heart aching in his chest. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. His master raised the remote control again, and Jules said another “Yes, Master,” before he could be shocked. This time, his reward was a pat on the shoulder, a thoughtless gesture of acknowledgment.

He wanted to turn away again, but he didn’t.

“You’ll be thinking a lot of things at once,” his master said, “But let me assure you of a few things. This is real. You are here, and you are mine. The market for vampire slaves is everything I will tell you it is, and when you are ready, you will be sold on it. If you’re a good boy, I’ll even try to find you a good sale, somewhere nice. No one is going to find you, and no one is going to rescue you. You may try to escape if you like, but you will not like what happens to you if you do. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Master.”

“Good. Trainer here will be getting you ready. People who buy from me have certain - expectations. And before you think you’ll just play along here and cause trouble later, why don’t you tell him what happens if he misbehaves in his new home, Trainer?”

Trainer grinned, and Jules’s shaking intensified. “If you come back here, he won’t be your master. Your master won’t be here, and you’ll have no one to hold me back. Come back here, and we won’t pretend I’m training you. You’ll call me Sir until you break and then you’ll go back to your Master in a thousand little pieces.”

Jules’s eyes widened.

The shock from the collar was the briefest yet, over before he could finish crying out.

His master spoke. “And to him you say-”

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Jules’s shaking didn’t stop when his master petted his hair this time. He wanted to close his eyes, to take himself away from here, but he forced himself to look back at his master instead.

“Good boy. Now, don’t let him scare you too much, this time around. Right now, you’re mine, and Trainer here knows it. You’re going to learn to behave yourself. You’re going to learn your place. And when I think you’ve learned it, when I really believe you understand who and what you are, then we can think about a suitable kind of home to train you for more specifically. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master.” It wasn’t. Jules’s mind was blanking out on him, the words blurring and blending into nonsense sounds, the strain of his fear too much to listen through. But he knew what the master wanted, and that was enough. That was enough. He had to stop the shocks.

His master stroked his hair again, and Jules didn’t move. “Now,” he said, “Why don’t you tell me what your name is?”

“Yes, Master.”

His master raised an eyebrow, amused. When the pause became a silence, he reached down and grabbed Jules’s chin again. “Your name, vampire.”

This time, the request made it through the fear. “Jules!” he blurted, “Julian Lucas Emiel III. But usually just ‘Jules.’”

The hand on his chin let go and stroked through his hair. “Hmm. No, that won’t do. Too much of a mouthful. Too - aristocratic. Of course, we can go back to something dignified if it suits a buyer, but - no. Not here.”

His master looked over at the trainer. “What do you think, Trainer? Keep with a J name, so it’s less confusing for him?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Yes, I think so.”

His master turned back to Jules, looking him over appraisingly. Jules didn’t know what to think, how to feel. It was all too much, too blank, his head too empty.

“Hmm,” his master said thoughtfully, “Nothing too butch. Don’t want prospective buyers getting the wrong idea, thinking they’re getting a bruiser to protect them. Johnny-” he cut himself off with a dissatisfied noise. “No. James? Jamey? Jason.”

His master’s eyes softened, relaxing. “Yes, I think Jason. Not too threatening, sounds modern enough, but then there’s the Argonauts to class it up if we need to go that route - yes. You’re going to answer to Jason.”

“M-master?”

“Yes, Jason?”

There was something to his master’s voice, some edge, and Jules’s name wasn’t Jason, and had never been Jason, but that edge - Jules closed his eyes, tucking his head down so that if his master picked up the remote again, he wouldn’t have to watch. “I understand, Master.”

His master hummed, satisfied. “See, Jason, you’re going to do just fine. Trainer, come get me when his drip’s done and we’ll take stock again.”

A hand landed on Jules’s shoulder and he looked up, meeting his master’s eyes before he could get into trouble. “Now, you make sure to follow directions without hesitating, and you’ll be just fine. Trainer’s under my orders, and he’ll follow my rules. Think you can do that, Jason?”

Jules didn’t close his eyes this time. He wanted to, but he didn’t, forcing them open, forcing eye contact, forcing himself to be good before his master changed his mind and didn’t leave, or worse, before he went for the remote again. “Yes, Master,” he answered softly.

His master squeezed his shoulder and then walked away, and a wave of relief washed over Jules. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until the door clicked shut and he found himself sagging in his restraints, half melting into the bed beneath him.

He flinched when he heard the trainer moving at the side of his bed, but looked up at the man before he could get in trouble for turning away.

“Quick study,” the man observed. “That’s a shame. But let’s get one more thing straight. Your master gives the orders here, but I decide how they get carried out. Keep me happy, they turn out good. Make me angry - maybe they turn out not so good. So I expect some gratitude when I do things the nice way, understood?”

Jules didn’t. He’d been listening for the question this time, so he wouldn’t give another wrong answer, but he hadn’t made sense of much of the rest of it. Even so -

“Yes, Sir,” he answered.

The trainer spoke again, his voice darkening. “That didn’t sound like gratitude. You want I should start putting blood back in you one syringe at a time?”

This time, Jules did understand. “No, Sir! I mean - I mean please don’t, Sir. I’m - I’m grateful for the IV. Thank you.”

When the trainer patted him on the shoulder it was too hard, too heavy, almost a blow, and when his big hand came to rest on Jules’s shoulder and squeezed, that was too hard, too. A threat. “Good boy,” the trainer said, and that, at least, he seemed more or less to mean, in the same way people meant it when they said it to dogs.

Jules didn’t know if that required an answer, too, but the fingers digging into his shoulder were strong, so he said, “Thank you, Sir.”

The trainer nodded with a soft sound of approval.

Then he sat heavily into a chair beside the dangling IV bag and Jules watched him, the trainer’s eyes casually watching back, until it felt safe to look away.

He was still cold, and he was still scared, but he was also still tired, exhausted by the fear and confusion and the days of starving before this. Once he’d turned his head away, gazing at the wall away from the trainer, he found himself drifting off to sleep, in spite of everything.

The last thing he heard was a soft hum from the trainer, but he didn’t know what it might mean.

#whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #fantasy whump #monster whumpee #blood tw #restraints tw #electrocution tw

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sultrysirens · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Blood [Part 17]

Universe: Detroit: Become Human

Rating: PG-13 (swearing)

Characters: Connor, Evelyn (OFC)

Tags: interspecies, romance, fluff, detective, law enforcement, original character, continuation, sex

[>>>MASTERLIST<<<]

[<<<BACK<<<]

[>>>NEXT>>>]

The next day at work wasn’t quite so pleasing. Guerrero pulled them in for a talk as soon as they arrived, before they’d even had a chance to sit down.

Connor stood before the captain with his hands clasped in front of him. Evelyn, he noted, clasped her hands behind her back -- a military stance. Guerrero, on the other hand, looked tired, perched at the edge of his desk.

He began, “You brought in two men for android assault.”

“That, we did,” Evelyn agreed.

“Android assault isn’t a thing yet,” he pointed out. “There’s still no laws--”

“So that means we should just let them assault people?” she demanded.

He gave her a hard look. “You interrupt me entirely too often, Forbes.”

That got her to glance down. “Sorry, Captain,” she said.

“It’s a problem of yours, and you need to get that sorted,” he impressed.

She shifted, uncomfortable.

“If I may,” Connor cut in, a hand held up for patience.

Guerrero sent him a measuring look, then nodded. “Sure,” he allowed.

His tone wasn’t exactly inviting, Connor thought, but he took the opportunity nonetheless. “It’s not just android assault. I’m a detective here, too -- they assaulted a government official. And even if we can’t prosecute them, those men were being aggressive and violent. They need to know it’s not acceptable behavior in a civilized world.”

Evelyn gestured him. “Spoken better than I could’ve,” she noted.

The captain ducked his head, rubbing his buzzed scalp with a sigh. At length, he looked up again, saying, “We had to let them go. There were no charges to give--”

“No charges -- they incited a riot,” she snapped, agitated.

“Forbes,” he returned, a warning to his tone.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...they need some kind of punishment. We can’t sweep this under the rug just because it happened to an android--”

“Forbes,” he repeated, more firm; she fell silent. “I understand. You feel this is an injustice and your job is to provide that justice -- particularly in defense of your own partner. But there’s still no android laws,” he impressed. “And as for a riot -- I read the report. They were threatening neither persons nor property, and until the laws get updated, androids are neither persons nor property.”

A deep, burning resentment took hold of Connor then, hearing that. Guerrero wasn’t wrong -- thanks to the president declaring androids as people, they no longer had the protection of being property, and until they were included in the law as a people, that meant they were nothing. Neither people nor property...they were honestly better off before.

At least before people could be fined for damaging an android. Now they didn’t even have that in their favor.

Guerrero continued, “Any judge would throw out the case, and then the D.A. would have a field day with the press -- especially because you were off duty,” he intoned. “You shouldn’t have been making any arrests to begin with. At this point we’ll be lucky if they don’t turn around and press charges against the precinct.”

She looked away, radiating both chagrin and frustration.

He took a breath, sighed. “There’s nothing we can do about this that won’t make things worse for the precinct. And until we have a stronger back from the community,” he continued, “we need to be cautious, whatever your moral compass says. We don’t have the numbers to deal with actual riots. Not anymore.”

She huffed, clearly unhappy with this call, and Connor empathized with her. But he could see things from Guerrero’s point of view, too; the captain was thinking of the precinct as a whole and he was trying to keep them in the community’s good graces. Connor couldn’t fault the man for that -- especially since the revolution. The lack of android officers meant half the precinct was unavailable to deal with any backlash from the community.

Aloud, Connor said, “I understand. Perhaps just being in holding for a night was enough to scare the men straight. And if they continue to pick fights, we need only to bide our time. The laws will come,” he said to Evelyn.

She gave him a questioning look, as if she didn’t quite believe him, but nodded regardless. “Here’s hoping,” she agreed.

Guerrero seemed satisfied by that, and he prompted, “Well. Now that we’ve sorted that out, what about Montgomery? I understand you two dug up some leads yesterday.”

The change of subject was a relief. Connor happily gave a verbal update, interspersed with Evelyn’s thoughts and conclusions, leading to the outcome that they’d need to interview Montgomery’s rival lawyers as well as Montgomery’s L.A. home and office. Neither of them believed a lawyer had gotten their hands dirty, but it was likely at least one of them was in bed with who had.

Guerrero listened, then gave a nod. “If you think it’ll aid the investigation, you’re welcome to go. Good luck,” he said, giving them a dismissive wave towards his door.

Evelyn nodded without a response, heading out, but Connor left with a cordial, “Have a nice day, Captain.”

Guerrero didn’t reply.

Outside the room, she commented, “You know you don’t need to be all hyper-polite, right?”

He glanced at her, surprised. “Should I not be polite towards my own captain?” he said as he trailed her, the pair of them heading to their desks.

“Not Guerrero,” she chuckled. “He never responds. I think it’s his way of being the ‘dad’ of the precinct -- giving everyone the cold shoulder, pretending to be all distant and tough.”

Curious, he asked, “Did you used to do it, too? The farewells?”

“When I first started, yeah. Took me a couple weeks before I figured out he’s being the tough, stubborn boss and won’t reciprocate.” She took her seat, logged in, and navigated to the digital case file.

He considered that -- Guerrero’s behavior -- for just a moment, concluding that the man was likely keeping up appearances. Then, attention shifting, he logged in, too, and began filling out a report on the information they’d gleaned from Mrs. Dulcevey.

Evelyn lifted her hands from the keyboard as he did so, surprised and amused. “Well, I can’t type half that fast. Or read that fast,” she noted as his report spawned into being from simple thought, appearing on her computer, too.

He chuckled. “Sorry, this is just how fast I go.”

“Mm. In which case,” she began, rising, “I don’t wanna interrupt so I’ll just go grab a coffee. Don’t break anything,” she added as she stepped away.

He smirked. He was truly starting to enjoy her teasing. It was just so friendly, the way she spoke to him. And...his thoughts were bleeding over into his report, he realized with a start. Those small thoughts managed to get sandwiched in the middle of a sentence about Ton Hoang.

Whoops.

He quickly edited those unrelated snippets out and continued his task. By the time Evelyn returned with her coffee, he’d narrowed down a sequence of events for the future of the case -- aside from interviewing the lawyers, which he expected would take time. They’d need to set up appointments, given they had no evidence to call upon, and undoubtedly the lawyers would wait until they had their ducks in a row. Aside from that, however...

To Evelyn, he outlined to her his desire to return to Montgomery’s estate so he could use his features to search for additional clues, namely how far the wireless signals went and if the home was receiving any from outside sources. Second, he wanted to check Montgomery’s L.A. residence and office as well, hoping that the victim had moved the thumb drive they were looking for to one of the two locations, and if not, they’d at least be able to build more of a profile on the victim that way. Third, he wanted to interview those closest to Montgomery himself.

Once he was finished speaking, he waited, and after a few moments’ time she spoke up.

“We can set up interviews pretty easily,” she began. “Montgomery is set to have a wake on the 15th. Most of his family are here already, as far as I know, so that shouldn’t be too hard. The lawyers will probably play the system as long as they can, though, waiting days or weeks or months if possible -- we’d be better off leaving them until we have some way to pressure them to show.”

Then, sounding exhausted already, she intoned, “Either way, we’re in for a grind.”

“In which case,” he replied, “perhaps we should start with Montgomery’s residences.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “Agreed. Is the report done?”

He nodded. “You can check it if you like,” he offered.

“I’ll have to,” she returned. “I’ll need to add my own perspective, at the very least. Think you can handle contacting the family to set up interviews?”

“Not a problem,” he agreed. He’d have to do them one at a time, though; he had to verbally speak to make calls to humans. He started those while Evelyn read his report and started adding in her own words, ultimately setting up five interviews by the time she concluded her part of the report.

Once he checked it, he was actually surprised. She was fast -- almost unnaturally so, he noted. Even factoring in her occasional pauses, clearly thinking things through, she managed roughly 82 words per minute.

Not beyond human ability, he admitted, but that still came out to more than a word per second. She must’ve written up a great deal of reports in this job, he concluded, impressed.

Granted, he could do 256 words per minute (being a literal computer was kind of amusing sometimes) so he was already a minimum of three times faster than her, but still. For a human her speed was definitely notable.

It wasn’t too long before their desk work was completed -- less than two hours since they clocked in -- and then they were off. In the car, Evelyn started to set her dashcom* to direct her to Montgomery’s residence (their first stop), but Connor stopped her, already having the route calculated. He told her when and where to make turns for the half-hour drive, keeping up with traffic changes in real time, and got them there faster than her dashcom could’ve.

The home was in a suburban neighborhood, and he reflexively scanned things as they approached the home. Everything was well-tended down this snaking road, veering in gentle twists between roads, and numerous cars were parked on car-lots and on the curbs. A few humans were about, doing maintenance or walking dogs or talking in small gatherings.

Not a single android was in sight, he noted.

“You know what’d be cool?” she said as they got out of the vehicle. Without waiting for his response, she answered, “If you’d stop making all of my devices obsolete.”

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. But if it makes you feel any better,” he offered, “I can’t make a decent cup of coffee.”

She inclined her head. “Well, that’s one thing I’ve got, I guess. But I swear to God, if you turn around and get some coffee machine feature, I will scream.”

“I’ll just file that away under ‘Ways To Make Evelyn Scream’,” he commented, amused.

She gave a laugh. Then, as they headed to the door of Montgomery’s two-story suburban home, a sound caught their attention from within. They both stopped dead, glancing at one another, and Connor took the opportunity to analyze the sound.

For a suspended moment in time, he replayed the noise in his own mind, concluding that it was the sound of a drawer being shoved closed -- not gently, but with excessive force. Someone was within.

He asked quickly, “Would it be likely that Montgomery’s relations would come here, possibly to pack his things?”

“Not when there’s no car out front,” she answered, already reaching to her belt.

He took another glance at the street, but none of the vehicles in sight -- aside from Evelyn’s Mustang -- were close enough to suggest which one, if any, might belong to whomever was currently inside the home.

“An invader,” he concluded, already striding to the front door to check it. It was unlocked, he found, though undamaged; the digital lock had been hacked open. He sent Evelyn a glance over his shoulder, relaying as much.

She gestured him aside. “I’ll go in this way, you find a side door,” she directed under her breath.

“I’d rather be the one taking that risk,” he returned as quietly.

“I’m the one with the firearm,” she shot back. “Go.” She inclined her head to her left, around the side of the house.

For a split second he was conflicted. From a logical standpoint, that was smart: the person with ranged defense could easily distract any opponents while the one without snuck up from elsewhere. But from an emotional standpoint, he didn’t want her in that kind of danger.

During that split second, he struggled with himself, a war of tactical advantage versus emotional impulse. A feeling of nostalgia rose as he fought to determine the priority between the two, reminded of his first investigation alongside Hank.

After a heartbeat of debate, logic won. He gave a firm nod and headed off, moving around the home as quietly as his shoes would allow, keeping low so he wouldn’t be seen through the windows. Soon he came upon a side door -- unsurprising for this type of home -- and checked it. Still locked.

He hacked it with a touch, the physical lock clacking as the digital code released it. He pushed it open, listening, and found he’d entered the kitchen area. He could see three open doorways from here; following the sound of rummaging led him further left, towards the rear of the home. He caught a glimpse of Evelyn through the middle doorway as he moved, hands low in front of her, her firearm at the ready.

He hugged the doorway ahead of him, looking into the room beyond -- some form of sitting room, he deduced, with comfortable furniture. Listening closer, he heard the creak of footfalls further to the right and ducked into the next room to follow it.

Now that he’d pinpointed the intruder, though, he encountered a new problem: this room’s door was closed. He’d undoubtedly be noticed if he opened it. Still, reminded that Forbes could potentially be in danger going by her path, he gripped the lever handle and gave it a slow, testing twist. Unlocked, he determined, though it had a physical keyhole on his side of it.

Assuming the room beyond was Elias’ home study and, by extension, for the intruder to be looking for valuable case files, he moved slowly, avoiding making the slightest noise--

--right up until he heard Evelyn’s voice clearly call out, “Don’t move! Hands where I can see them!”

The target of her forceful order gave a startled shriek and Connor dropped pretense, swinging the door open to take in the situation.

His assessment had been correct, he saw at once: this was a study. A single bookshelf, desk, computer, and chair filled one half; the other half had merely a low, oval coffee table with a sofa and two chairs situated around it. And currently there was a woman behind the desk, illuminated by the window on her opposite side.

She was black with blue eyes, her head shaved, wearing an ensemble that was almost eerily identical to Evelyn’s. She also had two cameras on her in easy sight, one at her left shoulder and one anchored to her belt, as well as a half-visor over her right eye he didn’t recognize. He scanned the female at once, finding a laundry list of criminal accusations -- and no convictions. Not a single one went through, he found with surprise.

[Sasha Porter; born 3/15/2012; 5′9″, 137.2lbs]

She already had her hands in the air, and she called out, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t shoot, I’m here legally!”

“Legally?” Evelyn echoed. “Identify yourself.”

“Sasha Porter, I’m a P.I.,” the woman declared. Then she seemed to notice Connor, giving him a double take but clearly more concerned with the gun trained on her.

Evelyn went from suspicious to sputtering, “Y-you’re a -- you’re a private investigator?” she checked.

“Yes,” Sasha insisted.

Jutting her chin, Evelyn demanded, “Show me an I.D.”

Moving slow, keeping one hand in front of her, Sasha did so, reaching down to her belt and withdrawing an I.D. wallet. She opened it, showing Evelyn.

To him, Evelyn said, “Connor, please check it.”

Not a problem. He strode closer, keeping aware of Sasha’s hands as he did so (just in case), and she turned the I.D. towards him offering as he neared. He scanned it as soon as it was close enough for his gaze to pick up on the details, checking the credentials.

It was legitimate, he concluded at once. Issued on 9/12/33, Sasha had been in this profession for the last five years. With this, he was even able to connect her to thirty-eight successful convictions. She got another commission completed roughly every two months.

She was good at her job.

He gestured Evelyn to back down, saying, “It’s real.”

With a sigh, she relented, holstering her weapon. Sasha gave a heavy exhale, too, patting her chest, and put her I.D. back in her pocket.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Forbes demanded.

“Investigating, what’s it look like?” Sasha returned, tone sharp. “What are you, anyway? LAPD?”

Evelyn nodded. “Yeah. I’m Sergeant Evelyn Forbes, this is Detective Connor,” she introduced, gesturing him.

“Scared the shit out of me,” Sasha complained.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get that a lot in your profession,” Evelyn returned. Then, giving Sasha a vague wave, she asked, “You recording?”

“While I’m on the job? Always,” Sasha confirmed, giving Connor a glance. “You an android?” she asked him.

“Jacket give that away?” he returned dryly, moving to join up with his partner.

She gave him an annoyed look.

“Hey,” Evelyn began, getting Sasha’s attention. She gestured own her eye, saying, “What’s this you’re wearing?”

“Camera/scanner combo,” Sasha told her. “Doesn’t record, but it can take pictures and has a number of visual settings.”

“Ooh. I should get me one of those,” Evelyn commented.

“Good luck with that, it’s new tech -- just released a couple days ago,” Sasha told her. “Super expensive.”

That would explain why Connor hadn’t been able to identify it, then. He checked, “What’s it called?”

Giving him a curious look, Sasha answered, “Heimdall Elite. Kinda pretentious, if you ask me.”

He logged that, creating a file for it. It didn’t take but an instant to have it named with all of its identifying markers and logged with all the information he could glean from the internet.

Evelyn commented, “Cool. Now who hired you, and what are you looking for here?”

Sasha gave her a dumb look. “You know I’m under no obligation to answer either of those questions. Gotta protect my clients. You understand,” she said -- not a question.

“Mm,” was Evelyn’s response. She paused then, thoughtful, and Connor was hit with a sense of impatience.

“Why are we waiting?” he asked her.

“Because she’s recording,” Evelyn returned, crossing her arms.

Good point. As long as a private investigator was present and recording, the police were limited in what they could do -- and, given she had active cameras going, what they were willing to do.

Sasha gave them a wave. “You can wait outside. Or just check some other rooms. Don’t let me get in your way.”

“You’re directly in our way, actually,” Evelyn told her.

Shrugging, Sasha said, “I got here first. And you know I can’t take or even move anything. Let me finish up my job, then you can do yours. Deal?”

Evelyn sighed, relenting, and moved back out towards the hall. He kept pace with her, taking stock of the area he hadn’t yet seen. The hall led directly to the front door, the study completely opposite the front door, with more doorways opening to a living room and dining room with a staircase right in the middle of it all.

“Pretty nice place,” he noted.

“Yeah -- I’m not buying it, though,” she commented, glancing around.

Looking towards her, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Lawyers usually get penthouses and mansions, not family homes in suburban neighborhoods,” she explained. “This is tiny and much more familial than his other residence. It doesn’t add up -- I’d bet this was just a show home.”

He could definitely see that, he admitted. Thinking on it, he decided to run a check, searching through what few databases he currently had access to; finding the deed and former owners of this home, he said, “This was Montgomery’s childhood home. He inherited it. Technically, it belongs to his son now, but Henry hasn’t been here in over a decade.”

Nodding, Evelyn worked out, “Then this is more likely his personal office than anything.” She glanced around, thoughtful, before starting to ascend the stairs. “In which case, there’s gotta be something here worth finding,” she was saying.

He trailed behind her, sending a glance down the hall -- checking on Sasha -- as he went. She was still busying herself with her digging, picking up stacks of papers before replacing them and investigating the drawers and bookshelves. Confirming that she was obeying the private investigator restrictions, he left her be.

Four doors sectioned the second floor, he found: two on their left, one on their right, one a few steps ahead. All were open, allowing him to note that the master bedroom was the one furthest to the left with a den of sorts on that side as well. The door to their front was a bathroom, and the one to their right was a spare bedroom.

She was heading for the den as she directed, “No touching anything you don’t have to, and if you move anything, put it right back where you found it.”

He was familiar with the P.I. laws, so he replied, “I’m more than capable of following the law.”

“A reminder never hurt anyone,” she pointed out.

Fair.

He left her to the den while he headed for the master bedroom and began his search.

It was about as fruitful as searching Helen Baker’s apartment had been, Connor found close to twenty minutes later. He’d looked absolutely everywhere, checking every drawer, examining the walls for hidden compartments, scanning for abnormal power lines, even checking every single article of clothing in the wardrobe and closet.

Nothing significant or noteworthy came to light. His conclusion: either Montgomery had kept all crime-related business out of his home, or he’d kept it out of his bedroom.

Giving up, he checked on Evelyn then, finding her sitting on the floor with a circle of papers around her, clearly having placed them there.

“So much for not touching anything,” he noted, striding in to take a closer look. “What did you find?”

“A pattern,” she explained, starting to gesture certain parts of the papers.

Each one seemed to have a different theme -- some were printed emails, some were excerpts from cases or books, some were collections of notes -- but he saw what she did: a sequence.

Time, date, place, and some kind of key word -- either a noun or an adjective and noun paired together. 5:23pm, November 11th, Donovan’s, red corvette; 2:17am, August 6th, Bookman’s, ATM; 9:02pm, April 27th, Franklin Blvd, yacht; it went on, a total of fourteen clues laid out together.

Impressed, he asked, “How did you notice this?”

“It stood out from the rest,” she answered absently. Then, glancing up at him, she checked, “Do you have all this memorized?”

He nodded. “You should put them back,” he said, but she was already doing so, arranging them almost haphazardly in between a series of other stacks.

Concerned that she might be mixing them up, he said, “I wish you’d gotten my attention before you pulled all those out. I could’ve put them back exactly as they’d been.”

She pulled out her phone. “I took pictures before I removed anything,” she informed him. “But you’re right -- I’m sorry about that. Guess I’m still just used to working alone.”

As she’d been for the last year, he reminded himself. The habits she must have developed from the lack of a partner...he’d definitely have to fight her now and again, if only to remind her that he was there and he could handle himself. She’d already displayed some of that loner mentality, he realized then, despite her visibly trying to include him the rest of the time.

“Not to worry, I’ll help you break those habits,” he teased, “whether you like it or not.”

She smiled at him, and he heard Sasha ascending the stairs then.

To Evelyn, he said, “Our rival is on her way.”

Blowing out a sigh, Forbes nodded. “I think it’s in our best interest to take our leave, then,” she concluded. “Let her do her thing. We can come back later.”

Agreeing, he gestured ahead, directing, “Ladies first.”

The look she gave him, then, was a kind of amused suspicion, like she was surprised by his politeness.

Somewhat offended, he retorted, “What? I’m not allowed to have manners?”

“Nah -- I’m just not used to it,” she explained, heading out. “Excuse us,” she said to Sasha as the P.I. passed her at the landing.

Sasha stepped aside, watching them go. “Y’all done?” she checked.

“For now,” Connor answered. “Good luck on your investigation.”

Eyes narrowing with suspicion, Sasha returned, “You, too.”

Once they were on the road again, Connor noted, “So, she was interesting.”

“You think?” Evelyn prompted, curious. “What makes Sasha Porter so intriguing?”

“For one thing, she was dressed almost identical to you,” he noted.

“I am immediately offended.”

He chuckled, then continued, “For another -- she has blue eyes. That’s exceedingly rare. Most likely, she has European ancestry in her -- and if not, she’s a mutant of the most beautiful variety.”

Smirking, she quipped, “Well, you already sound smitten.”

“I am immediately offended,” he shot back.

Laughing, she said, “Seriously, though, I agree. Those eyes are gorgeous on her. If I were a lesbian, man...” She gave a soft whistle.

With a dry laugh, he pointed out, “You’re married, so you wouldn’t do a damn thing.”

“How dare you crush my hopes and dreams,” she complained.

“Besides which,” he pressed, “she’s a P.I. You’re a cop. You said it yourself: the professions don’t mesh.”

“Sounds like a great premise for a rom-com,” she returned. “Maybe some good drama in there, too. I can see it now: she was a detective with LAPD, hard-driven and no-nonsense,” she intoned with a deep, narrative voice. “But while on a case, she crossed paths with a private investigator -- and what they found took them down a path of intrigue, betrayal, and romance--”

“Enough,” Connor laughed, waving her to silence.

Giggling, Evelyn relented. “So,” she prompted, “how about we actually get to work? Can you set up a timeline for those settings?”

Not a problem. He’d organized them by date and put pins in a mental map of where they’d taken place, linking them together, while they’d been talking. He said now, “Already done. It’s...interesting,” he offered.

“How so?”

“The locations are very random,” he explained. “They’re all over the state, not just L.A. I’m thinking they’re most likely related in terms of who or which entities own the areas -- there’s just no pattern to their locations.”

“Unless there’s more locations and we just don’t have that information yet,” she suggested.

Plausible, he admitted. “Maybe. But we should hold off on that until we have more to go on.”

“Agreed. You ready to go digging in a lawyer’s corner office?” she checked.

“More than. Let’s get this done,” he said, feeling more determined by the second. It seemed everything they found on Montgomery only deepened the mystery, rather than unraveling any of it.

It they didn’t find any solid leads after today, he feared it would become an obsession for him, the puzzle too great to ignore. Yet, weirdly, he found himself liking that concept: that he’d find a case he literally couldn’t put to bed.

In a sense, the deviancy case had never been solved, and to a small degree he was still curious about it. But the way things had gone, he’d ceased to care about why it’d happened -- it was just a good thing it had. And, to an extent, he didn’t want to solve it, either. A part of him felt protective of the mystery, liking keeping it unsolved meant he was protecting his fellow androids.

No, the deviancy case was perfectly fine left cold. But this one -- Montgomery -- was a damn good substitute, drawing his focus and intrigue. He couldn’t wait to see where it went from here.

* Dashcom = an abbreviation I came up with for “dash computer”, as I assume they’ll be incredibly popular in the near future (especially for government officials, like the police and FBI) and will very likely be referred to as such.

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#siren nightshade #blue blood #detroit: become human #connelyn #sfw #part 17 #exophilia #interspecies #romance

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