#OC: Zahlia Fox

[vanne-whump]

ORNATE. Part One.

BTHB: Non-Consensual Body Modification. @badthingshappenbingo

OCs: Alistair Malcolm, Elliot Pierce, Zahlia Fox

Content: Manipulative whumper, creepy whumper, MINOR WHUMP, tattoos used as whump, noncon body modification, cursing, loss of consciousness.

“This is the design,” Alistair pushed a sheet of paper across the dining table to Zahlia. “We discussed it on the phone.”

“We did,” she agreed, looking over the design a final time. “For Elliot, correct? He’s how old?”

“Seventeen. I pay you for your discretion, in case you’d forgotten that.”

Elliot sat beside Alistair in silence, attention only on the design on the table, depicting a Chinese dragon, wrapped around some kind of longsword.

“I’m aware,” Zahlia responded to Alistair’s blunt reminder as though it didn’t faze her. “My kit is in my car. Get him ready, you know the drill.”

Once Zahlia had slipped out of the front door of their penthouse, Elliot began to slip into panic. Into uncertainty.

“Look — Alistair — I — I’m not sure that this is what I want,” He finally spoke. “This isn’t me.”

“Shut up and take off your shirt,” Alistair got to his feet. “We already decided on a spine placement.”

“No — I need a minute to think about it.”

“You’ve had over a year. Don’t make this difficult.”

“I’m not fucking trying to!”

Alistair turned to face Elliot, expression stormy.

“You do not use language like that, do you understand? If you speak to Zahlia like that, I’ll make you wish that you never lived this long,” Alistair hissed, approaching Elliot’s chair and taking his hair in his grip. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Elliot nodded against Alistair’s grip. “I do, I understand perfectly.”

“Good. Now, get up, take off your shirt and wait for Zahlia. You show any hesitance, you’ll regret it.”

Elliot didn’t need to be told twice. Not this time. The moment Alistair released his grip, Elliot stood. He unbuttoned the embroidered shirt and folded it tightly, clinging to it as though it could somehow protect him.

His breath caught in his throat when, minutes later, the penthouse door opened.

“So, El? Are you ready now?” Zahlia spoke to Elliot this time around, “It’s probably best if we do this on the couch, right sweetheart?”

“Sure,” Elliot responded, already making his way over to the leather couch. He followed her instructions to lie down, flinching only when she pulled an antiseptic wipe across his back. He shuddered, stilling himself quickly.

Elliot agreed with everything that was said.

Yes, the placement was fine.

Yes, the design was perfect.

Yes, he knew how to take care of the tattoo.

At any moment, he could have been honest. Admitted that he hated the design. Told her that it was far too big, that Alistair had chosen it, that he’d had no say in this at all. But the words were just too hard to say.

The tattoo gun hummed to life as Zahlia began work, following the design laid out beside her freehand. Elliot did all he could to relax. To tell himself that it would be over soon. Because it would.

Zahlia’s gloved hands skimmed his back as she worked. Even the tissue she used to blot away ink sent sharp pains down his spine. He closed his eyes, pressing his face into the arm of the couch as he tried to suppress tears. Breathing evenly was difficult — the next jolt of pain was the end of the road.

“Stop — stop,” Elliot coughed as he spoke, “I need a break.”

“A break? Sure, sweetheart. You need a drink? Painkillers?”

“He doesn’t take painkillers,” Alistair interjected. “He’s better than that, aren’t you, Elliot?”

“Mhm — yeah — no painkillers, ‘m fine,” Elliot agreed. But, god, did they sound good right about now. “I just need a minute.”

Elliot wiped sweat away from his forehead in frustration, gritting his teeth and pressing his face into the arm of the couch. He was better than this. Far better than letting this get the better of him.

Alistair clicked his tongue and came to crouch in front of Elliot, filling his line of sight with his firm expression.

“Do you need some help staying still? Zahlia doesn’t have all day, and you’re going to tell her that you’re ready now. Got it?”

“Mhmm — I’m ready,” Elliot spoke as soon as he was told to.

Help to stay still. No. Whatever that meant — he wanted none of it.

“Good,” Alistair stood once more, hand brushing over Elliot’s cheek as another jolt of pain rushed up his back.

Once more, Elliot could only exhale shakily.

His vision blurred over. Head filled with static.

“Alistair — Alis...”

Elliot hardly managed to start his sentence before the overwhelm pushed him over the edge. He let out only a quiet gasp before he passed out.

———

Zahlia had already begun to put the gun aside, shifting backwards once she became aware of Elliot’s collapse. Once she realised just how lacking her judgement had been.

“You told me that he would be fine,” she hissed, using the back of her hand to feel Elliot’s forehead. “What now? Huh?”

Standing across from her, Alistair was completely unaffected by the unfolding of events. It had been as much as expected.

“What now? You keep going,” he shrugged off her concern. “He will be fine. Eventually. I want this done, and I want it done today. At least he won’t move and ruin the design.”

“Alistair, I’m not sure —”

“Not sure of what? Just do what I pay you for.”

Gaze flickering between Elliot and Alistair, Zahlia finally nodded. Alistair was the last person she wanted to argue with, no matter the circumstances. After checking on Elliot once more, Zahlia fired up the tattoo gun and began to go over the thin lines of the tattoo.

She honed her focus in on the tattoo and the tattoo alone. Elliot wasn’t out long — a couple of minutes, at most. Maybe not even a minute. But it felt like long enough. He made no sound or visible movement, but Zahlia felt how he tensed under her touch.

“Not long now, just some finishing touches,” she did her best to reassure him. “Ten minutes, El, that’s it.”

Goosebumps had risen on Elliot’s arms and the lightheaded sensation began to turn into nausea. Ten minutes. How long had it been? He twisted his head to the side, in search of Alistair. Nowhere to be seen. Elliot hadn’t heard him leave.

“Do you have painkillers?” Elliot whispered, as soon as he was sure they were alone. “Please? Do you?”

Zahlia was caught off guard by his request but couldn’t bring herself to abide by Alistair’s previous instructions. She pulled out a blister pack, taking two and pressing them into Elliot’s open palm.

“Are you almost done?”

“Almost, do you want anything to drink?”

Elliot shook his head as he swallowed the pills, letting his head fall forward one more time. Each movement from the needle sent shockwaves through him, but he stayed awake. Stayed aware of his surroundings.

And then the room was filled with silence — or as close to silence as they could get with Elliot’s uneven breathing and Zahlia beginning to tidy away her equipment.

“Keep an eye on him for a few hours,” Zahlia spoke, not to Elliot. He could only assume that Alistair had returned. “I don’t like how he passed out like that. He eaten today?”

“I’ll be the judge of that. And, no, he hasn’t. But he’s just a stubborn teenager, I told him that he should eat something.”

The way Alistair lied so effortlessly, and the way Zahlia didn’t question it — that stung. A stubborn teenager. Elliot so desperately wanted to argue. Set the record straight. But it would do no good. He felt his stomach growl as Alistair and Zahlia made small talk.

He let out a choked breath — forced back tears — and rolled onto his side, facing towards the back of the couch. Clouds surrounded his mind and, despite his best efforts, he had no luck in staying awake this time around either.

Right now, Elliot had no choice but to drift into vulnerability.

[vanne-whump]

39 for Zahlia

Package || Zahlia Fox

Prompt: Send a disturbing package to my muse. [Source]

OCs: Elliot Pierce, Zahlia Fox

Content: Stalking, Cursing

Zahlia dumped the package on the coffee table beside a stack of risqué magazines and cup of coffee. She paid no mind to it as she scrolled through her socials.

The package was addressed to Elliot, his name — their address — scrawled in black letters across the front of the padded envelope. Almost illegible.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. Elliot wouldn’t be back for hours. Not until late this evening. And normally — normally, Zahlia wouldn’t look. She couldn’t care less what he ordered. But something about this one…

Zahlia took a pair of the kitchen scissors, opening the envelope from the top, before she poured the contents onto the table.

Polaroids spread across the wooden surface — dating back weeks. Months. Almost a year. Dates and locations scrawled meticulously on the back of each one.

Polaroids of her. Close-ups of her face. A copy of her schedule. Phone numbers. Her call log. Internet history. Names of friends. Family.

She picked up one of the photographs. Taken just several steps down the street from their apartment building.

Zahlia’s stomach dropped as she looked through the images. Someone wanted Elliot to know they were stalking her. Someone was threatening Elliot — that had to be it.

“Fucking creep,” Zahlia muttered, pushing all of the paperwork back into the envelope. Dropping it in the wastepaper basket. With one more glance at the envelope, she gritted her teeth, pulled her arms around herself tightly.

She crossed the room to the open blind, yanking it closed. A knock at the door. She jerked her body around, back against the kitchen counter. Zahlia made no move to open it.

Her phone rang. A sound that cut deeply through her. She let it ring out. Falling into silence. Voicemail notification.

With a glance between the door and the coffee table, Zahlia finally moved. Stepped away from the kitchen counter — unlocked her phone. A voicemail from Elliot. Then another ringtone.

“Hey,” Zahlia spoke quickly. “You okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah, just forgot my keys. Fancy letting me in?” Elliot asked. “Or I could just hang out in the hallway.”

“Sure — yeah — one second,” Zahlia fumbled, pushing the envelope further into the trash on her way to the door. Elliot didn’t need to see it.

She opened the door to him, greeted with a grin — something that immediately made her feel better.

“Thought you were gonna leave me out here,” Elliot kissed Zahlia’s forehead quickly. “Nice of you not to.”

“How long were you stood there?”

“Fifteen minutes, maybe,” Elliot shrugged. “Figured you were just busy. Can I come in?

Zahlia nodded and stepped aside.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet…”

“Just a change of plans, that’s all. I got the position on that nightlife shoot tonight. The one I told you about? I have to prep for that. You fancy coming later?”

“You got it?” Zahlia asked, “That’s — congratulations — you deserve it,” she grinned, slightly off balance. “But, no, I don’t think I’ll come, I was just planning on staying in and watching a movie or… Or something… Something quiet…”

Despite being shaken, they would have to do better than that to scare her. A freak with a camera and internet access wouldn’t scare her.