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goldenboikuvasauce · 4 months

Note

Backstory/personality of your oc/s, mylord?

This is the Most Question of all time. So I will be putting it under the cut LMAO. A lot of my Tenno were developed when Duviri was announced, but there were no details. I assumed it meant Tenno aged normally. Now that we have an explanation for Drifters these backstories are most likely going to be retconned. Most of my Tenno are adults now so they're more relatable to me (and I don't have to stomach child soldiers as much - it just makes me sad)

there's also a lot of canon divergence stuff just cos I like silly aus. I just like giving my actual warframe ocs reason behind sentience... I rather be a space meat robot than a kiddo.

and if anyone has been ao3 in 2021... some of these names and faces might be familiar... and you know of their many sins... please forgive everything being over the place. it's how my brain is wired and one can say wf ocs are my own personal brand of cocaine duviri

Group 1)

Antaeus, a confuzzled Tenno who woke up a lil too late with a serious case of amnesia. He appears to be in his mid 20s. He loves kavats, languages, and history. He's fluent in Corpus and Ostron and can read Grineer script easily. He's also very optimistic, playful and friendly - assuming that the biomechanical beings on the ship he woke up on are his roommates, not machines he's supposed to control.

K - My main Nidus 💕 He's broody and shy, but really he's touch starved. He loves sculpting and hates kavats and by extension, the resident Valkyr. Ironically, as he gets over the hatred, he ends up mutating a kavat like helmet (Nightstalker helmet my beloved). K is capable of speech, but his overly infested vocal chords make his voice sound raspy and rumbly. He speaks in short sentences or simply grunts for brevity. K usually speaks outloud just to insult Valk, but not much else. He is incapable of communicating with text and doesn't care for the group chat anyway.

Pneuma - My starter Mag. she's a lil cold and stern but is super caring underneath all that. She lost her left arm to a Bombard while trying to save a kubrow pup. She's extremely protective of everyone on the ship and is considered the resident mom friend because of that. Pneuma has a vocaliser, but with no Tenno transferenced in she does not speak. She instead communicates with blank stares that say 1000 words. She uses text otherwise, and is as articulated as one can be with one hand, or a parazon. She doesn't capitalise the start of sentences though.

Valkyr - She's a big herbo who loves Pneuma to bits. She also loves fishing, kavats, and treating Antaeus like a kavat kit even tho he's a grown man. She hates magnetic Eidolon water and K. She is capable of speech, though her vocal chords are hoarse and it's difficult to speak in longer sentences. She mainly uses her voice to hiss at K. Her talons stop her from typing quickly, but she's fond of kavat emojis. With a parazon her communication style is expressive. While her personality seems as primal as a motherly kavat who loves her wife so much, she has been able to express her level of intelligence and self reflection through personal logs that are recorded by the ship Cephalon.

Zippo - Nezha - He has the emotional maturity of a 12-14 yo, and he loves trying to cook and the Index. Valk found him wandering around by himself at a relay and just took him back to the ship. Zippo communicates in sign language, and a lot of emojis in text form - he has bad grammar and over uses punctuation for emphasis. His nickname was given to him by Nando as a bit of an insult (see group 3) when they were in an Index match together. Zippo, or Z, having a tiny infested brain, didn't catch it was supposed to be a jab at him, ended up liking it. Z's celebrity crush is John Prodman.

Xuron - Ship Cephalon - Initially assigned to monitoring Pneuma by Simaris, due to her sentience, Cephalon Xuron abandoned his precepts of investigation when Simaris wanted to synthesise Antaeus. Xuron moderates of the crew's group chat, which serves as a way for everyone to communicate with each other, at least until Tae learns to actually utilise transference. Xuron has had "software failures" that are more serious than Ordis' blurts - due to remembering traumatic experiences prior to being Glassed.

K's Helminth (not pictured cos they're an infested room) - After a traumatic event that had awakened K's sentience, Helminth had spawned their physical form from a self inflicted neck wound K had made in madness. Helminth has possessive nature over K, seeing him as an extension of themselves, and actively tries to sabotage any progress Antaeus makes towards transference. They see the tenno as a force that removes a warframe's free will. If it were up to Helminth, Antaeus would be dead and it would be Helminth and K, forever and ever...

...

Group 2)

Lissa - Lone Tenno. Lissa has lost control of most of her warframes with the exception of her Nekros Prime and she doesn't know why - but she knows it makes her violently ill at times. Because of this her cephalon had abandoned her. Despite all this she tries to be kind to those less fortunate than her, specifically the Solaris. She mainly resides in the Fortuna alleyways. She appears to be in her early 20s. She has a strong bond with Charon, and since he is the only frame she has left, she'd put her life on the line for him.

Charon - Lissa's Nekros Prime. Like any Nekros he enjoys grave robbing and dismembering enemies - he's honed his craft and can dismember very quickly and precisely. He's a hoarder who keeps his and Lissa's things in his Hey Kavat backpack, as well as his guts. He likes shiny things, pain, keeping his Mortus binds in a bow and painting his and Lissa's nails. He's in a situationship with K. Charon always had a low level of sentience, stemming from being protective over Lissa. The intense stew of raw emotion and happy brain chemicals being with K gives him had fully awakened Charon's hidden personality however. That and the cheeky lil cyst made of K's Helminth.

Blaze, a Red Veil operative and Railjack hire. He's also Lissa's ex boyfriend. The relationship was taboo under the Red Veil's rules, he ended the relationship when it got to his conscience. He is a devout Veil cultist and feels great guilt over "leading the Tenno astray" by courting Lissa when they were just love sick teens. He still deeply cares about Lissa, and wish she'd put herself first every now and then. He does not believe Charon is sentient, and is worried Lissa is projecting or experiencing delusions.

...

Group 3)

Nando, an obnoxious Tenno with a penchant for overspending and recreational substance use. He has a serious fear of the Infestation and refuses to do any missions that involve them. For this reason he sticks with more mechanical frames like Gauss, Zephyr Harrier, and Octavia. Nando appears to be in his early 20s and shares his orbiter with his lil "cousin" Max, who he's protective over despite being barely able to look after himself.

Mac - Nando's Gauss. After being infected by a Helminth cyst that was contracted from Charon (who contracted it from K), Mac developed enough sentience to hide the cyst from Nando. However, all the running into walls keeps Mac's probable IQ in the double digits. Nando eventually finds out and tries to scrub the cyst, but the damage had already been done. Mac has a singular braincell!!

Max, a young Tenno, who was only a toddler on the Zariman during the Void incident. Biologically, they are not related to Nando, but because they came from the same long dead tribe Nando calls Max his lil cousin as per custom. Max is still young, about 12-14 years old. They enjoy conservation and collecting floofs, and playing in the Index with Nando. The two share an Ash Shroud frame together, but Max mains Xaku (Nando was not going to step foot on Deimos to seek the parts out) and Equinox. Max is best friends with Zippo (but doesn't know that Zippo is actually a sentient warframe)

...

Group 4 - my more evil ocs lmao)

Sar - New Loka Tenno. She enjoys fashion (of frames and humans) and flowers. Her bubbly personality is a rouse however. She's well on her way to being the best assassin in the syndicate, happily purging those that are tainted and ruined - including other Tenno. She is in her 20s, and through meditation and guidance from Amaryn she makes sure to keep the Void from completely robbing her of her sanity.

Jase - Perrin Tenno. Jase was 17 during the Zariman incident. His huge stature let him assign himself as a leader among the children, and he lead the assault on those corrupted by the Void. Because of his role and readiness for combat, he was one of the first Tenno Lotus woke up. While the Somatic dream and transference freezes the body of a Tenno, Jase preferred hand to hand combat. This aged him over time, and as his biological clocks continues to tick he's at high risk of Void Corruption. He was recruited by the Perrin Sequence as brutish muscle to occasionally intimidate brokers into diplomacy.

Kaiju (Jase's Chroma - not pictured cos idk how to draw Chroma) Kaiju is a Chroma Jase forced Transference with. But as Jase slowly falls into Corruption, Kaiju regains his sentience and fights back for control. This results in catastrophic events, especially when Kaiju decides to murder and consume a Volt, Frost, Saryn and Ember Prime - in order to himself a Prime.

Sar's Trinity Prime , who's fashionframe was rightfully titled "the Harmacist" by a wf friend of mine (speaking of which he'd be traumatised if he saw the state of my blog rn). She has an all white colour palette, with the prime body and Strega helmet, and the eros wing ephemera. She enjoys luring unsuspecting victims to Kaiju for him to eat. Sar utilised her Trin in the meta ways often, and also has a killer DPS Tank build for Trin.

...

Group... Infested and Feral >¦3

Fester (Rhino) - Dumped in Deimos after his Tenno had reached mastery with him. The Grey Strain took over him, and gave him sentience. He is bonded with an infested Volt named Nux (my boyfriend @tethermaw's oc). Fester has crazy abandonment issues.

Xantho (Ash) - Initially a feral Ash maggot looking for a humanoid corpse to claim as a host, Xantho found a dead explorer in the isolation vaults. Unfortunately, a Saryn and Banshee maggot had the same idea, so Xantho had to fight them off for the cadaver. This resulted in the subsumation of Saryn's Molt and Banshee's Silence. As a full fledged feral frame, Xantho spent most of their days waiting for Tenno to open up vaults, just so they can sneak in and steal the goods. But now Xantho lives with one of my boyfriend's Nidus ocs, Plague 😊 Xantho is spoiled so much

Maprico (Feral Nidus) - mistaken for a tame cryptillex, Maprico was adopted as a maggot. Maprico had intended to kill and take over this person's body but found something much better. They got their namesake when they refused to eat kibble, and instead gorge on human food made with the bright orange fruit. However, when a thief broke into the home one night, Maprico tried to scare off the intruder with cute lil squeaks. The Intruder laughed then screamed, as Maprico had already pounced at the jugular. The next morning, Maprico is engorged with human flesh, preparing their host for metamorphosis.. Much to their person's dismay. Maprico eventually grew to the great height of 8ft as a full fledged Nidus, and was a much better guard. They went on to have many of their own maggots, who now inhabit the happy and safe settlement like their own nest.

Cage (Nidus - Maprico's spawn). Cage was a fiesty maggot, who bit one of the settlement's children in the arm when the child kept pestering them. The child had to have the arm amputated, and the little maggot was put in a timeout cage by Maprico. Cage gnawed at the bars and escaped.. to go nuzzle and apologise to the child. Years later, Cage grew alongside the child, who was now a teen. Cage was ready to search for a host, and when they were fully fledged they enhanced their friend's prosthetic with the Infestation. The two now work with Steel Meridian, the syndicate that helps protect the settlement.

Venous, an unranked Nidus that was built for one purpose: to be consumed by the Mouth Wall. Venous was next in line to be subsumed, after a Titania frame. Venous broke out the arsenal and into the infirmary to destroy the Chair. After escaping with the other frame, the two formed a close bond and are now inseparable. Venous is very feral and likes rotting grineer as their energy source

Caelus, an unranked Titania that was built only to be subsumed. Venous broke Caelus free from the Chair and together they escaped. Caelus, despite being a Titania, quickly presented more masculine to distance himself from the prime fae frame that took his place. With Venous, Caelus attempts to learn his abilities through clumsy trial and error.

...

more or less civilised ocs

Axenic - A Nidus that works as a Perrin Sequence mercenary. Axenic was an unnamed and unknown Nidus captured by the Corpus. They were tortured, lobotomised, and vivisected so the scientists could experiment with the Helminth strain of the infestation, as well as an attempt to copy its chrysalis system and Tenno warframe maintenance procedures. They were dubbed Axenic, as they were brutally scrubbed and sterilised. The experiments resulted in Axenic losing the passive healing, Larva and Ravenous abilities, which where replaced with Ensnare and Eclipse. Axenic was eventually bought/emancipated by the Perrin Sequence, and the upkeep of Axenic's functions are supported by the syndicate. This involves supplying Axenic with a shield capacitor, aggressive painkillers and high octane stimulants. In terms of personality, The Axenic Nidus has none. At least that's what they portray. Internally, Axenic mourns they can not cultivate their own Infestation and parthenogenise their own maggots, that choice was taken from them.

Axenic's mercenary work leads them to becoming a bodyguard for Latrox Une in the Cambion Drift, as he films nature documentaries and enjoys studying the Infestation with funding from the Entrati. This leads to Axenic protecting Une from an attack from Fester and Nux, and as Axenic links to Fester, they contract a part of the Grey Strain that mutates Axenic enough to have a form of reproduction again. With some enthusiastic experimentation and vigorous testing with Une the two discover the reproduction is allogamous. It is still ineffective and Axenic has only been able to produce one living spawn and has no interest in utilising this in combat. Axenic now takes in maggots often abandoned by their progenitors, and teaches them how to assimilate with Tenno without raising suspicions about being unmanned.

Jnr. - A hybridized Nidus, and Axenic's only spawn. Jnr. was a very weak maggot and lived most of this life stage in intensive care in Une's lab/home. Junior is more learned and academic than your average feral maggot, but of course he lacks the basic survival instincts or "street smarts". In that way it is a blessing that after his metamorphosis he maintained a more humanoid appearance (at least in silhouette) as he can fit in normal humanoid attire and attend Perrin board meetings on an operative suit. However, Junior didn't feel like he was making much of a change at a desk, and snuck off to join Steel Meridian despite his progenitor's values. He feels more at ease among defectors and freedom fighters with prosthetics and other chronic disabilities. He meets Cage, who easily detects him as another Nidus despite his (adorable) defector disguise. Cage keeps his secret, and the two occasionally hold hands, because Junior's Link ability sprouts from his palms. Axenic eventually finds out about Junior joining an enemy syndicate, and upon seeing the bond Junior had made with Cage Axenic makes no comment on the topic. The equivalent of acceptance. And when Axenic has the equivalent of wallet photos of Junior's and Cage's own maggots, that can only be seen as familial pride and approval.

Group "they're from the red veil so they're unhinged but that's their normal"

Phryke (Nidus) + Dyanta were created my boyfriend @tethermaw but I develop them too.

When kids act up, parents warn them that a particular Nidus Phryke will eat them for being bratty and ungrateful. And it's true, Phryke did eat a bratty kid - his own Tenno Operator. He only ended up regretting it when the transference bolt he was built with was becoming a literal pain in the neck, so loitered around in RJ groups hoping he could steal some Tenno for himself, maybe there were older operators who weren't annoying pieces of shit... Then he met Dyanta.

Dyanta wasn't always part of the Red Veil. He had been harvesting and selling organs since he was a child, roped into the scheme to pay off his shelved father's debts. He was able to pay it off, and as an occupational perk he was allowed to stay in mostly one piece, and when he made it to adulthood he got free gender affirmation surgeries on the house. But when the operation was busted Dyanta's employers left him on the operating table to escape and Dyanra was literally arrested with his pants down. During his incarceration he shared a cell with a cannibalistic cultist named Grun, who he found enigmatic and so magnetic.. He was initiated into the Red Veil by him and when they broke out together and went their seperate ways, Dyanta formally joined the cult. Due to the secrecy of the Veil, Dyanta wasn't able to get back in contact with Grun, but he couldn't stop thinking about him. He kept himself busy by becoming a Railjack defender for hire. During one mission, Dyanta was struck by a void storm bolt just as Phryke was about to jump and protect him from the blast. When Phryke got up, Dyanta had disappeared... accidentally transferenced into Phryke. Being more than compatible, Phryke decided that Dyanta was going to be his Operator. There were bonuses for Dyanta too. He went from being mostly illiterate (he could only read and write HEART, LUNG, KIDNEY, LIVER, in Corpus) to being able to read Orokin text within milliseconds. He also has Phryke to blurt out his thoughts (without his permission), which can be helpful in some situations, like when he reunited with Grun.

Grun was the only son in the middle of 7 sisters, born and raised on Mars in a Red Veil resistance that fought off the Grineer. Grun was trained in the ways of espionage, and the art of cleansing evil from the system - by consuming the flesh of enemies. After Grun failed to properly conceal an assassination attempt he was arrested and charged for multiple counts of terrorism. Someone in the higher ups, a Red Veil spy, had more plans for Grun and turned Grun's solitary confinement into an executioner's room, where a starved Grun would be made to kill and eat some of the prisoners to keep numbers low. Dyanta was thrown in this cell, and when finding Grun was chained up, emaciated and covered in years old blood, Dyanta snuck in food and water for Grun. The two ended up falling for one another without realising, Grun scarified a Red Veil insignia into Dyanta's wrist, and they planned an escape. Grun found the Red Veil plant that trapped him in that cell with no real food or water. He killed them in a "cleansing fire", as subjecting him and others to such conditions was indication of corrupted power. He took the ashes back to his splinter. He was praised for the cleansing, but for killing one of his own he was to take a vow of anonymity. Grun could never speak outloud, contact his family, or show his face to anyone ever again. It didn't stop him from working or basic socialisation, as he could still use sign language and encrypted text to communicate. But when he found Dyanta again, he broke the vow of anonymity, just for him (and Phryke).

I didn't mean to write so much about these three but grunyata has been rotting my and my bf's brain for 2 whole years.

Phryke and Grun have done some Real Red Veil """studies""" together, and the results gave them two groups of maggos.

the first clutch was an accident, Phryke dispelled them hoping they'd attack and blow up some Corpus as Ravenous maggots would. That didn't quite happen. Instead only three maggots ran amuck, and did attack but refused to blow up, even when Phryke tried to squish em with a Virulence (dad of the year!) They ran away from the ability and played a game of hide and seek with Phryke (Dyanta was cracking up in his head)

Rakta was the first maggot to find a body, to inhabit among the ruckus. When Phryke tried to pull Rakta away from the body Rakta protested and bit him. Phryke tried to squish Rakta for this but these maggots seem to be made of ooblek lmao. So Phryke decided to just try to extract without em, like a parent starting to leave a toy store cos their child won't listen. Rakta threw a tantrum about this and demanded to be carried back to the orbiter. WITH the body.

the line "I dont think that corpus is my son" is so funny to me. (excuse the discord grammar)

Rakta is named as such as they have an obsession with playing in Phryke's arsenal. They also don't really care about anything else, just guns and cookie dough.

here's another discord screenshot that makes me laugh still

Phryke is truly dad of the year.

The poor lil maggot in question is named Blight. They were half way through their metamorphosis when the Corpus attempted to extract them. This resulted in them having very thin transparent membrane skin, a loss of fangs.. baby Blight wasn't doing too good. Grun did his best to help Blight, by wrapping them up with his kevlar scarf, cutting small lil giblets for them, but he could only do so much. Grun took Blight back to Phryke, and Phryke let Blight crawl under his stacks to heal. After this Blight was good as new, but a lot more wary about being left alone. (just a baby... a little baby...)

unfortunately I have run out image slots...

Taurus + 9 living spawn

While initially retrieving Blight, Grun came across the final maggot to escape Phryke's parenting. This maggot was the biggest, well on their way into melding with their host, and shared Phryke's huge horns. Grun hid them in a hard to reach vent, hoping they won't have the same fate Blight experienced.

Years later, Blight and Rakta have gotten antsy about being babied, ready to go out on their own.. Phryke didn't expect to be hit with empty nest syndrome, since he always disliked children. He didn't realised he enjoyed this weird parenthood of licking cookie dough off Blight, wrestling an Ignis out of Rakta's inquisitive hands. Mostly keeping them out of trouble.. It made him wonder what it would have been like, coming into the world the way his spawn did. And it made him wonder.. where was his third spawn...? Did they survive...?

...

I would continue but not being able to share more drawings makes me so sad 😭 So I've reached the end of my rope with writing this all out, my boyfriend said I might even end up finding the word limit on a tumblr post!

There are a few more OC's.. most lack names (I tend to name my OC's after the cosmetics they don, because most of them have such nice names) There is also a current warframe concept I'm working on but development is mostly kept private for now.

#warframe ocs #asks #wfoc: k #wfoc: pneuma #wfoc: z #wfoc: charon #wfoc: venous #wfoc: caelus #i don't even have all my ocs tagged there are just too many....#I could have just listed their names #described em in one word.... but I DIDN'T I tortured myself 😩#implied warframe sexy time cos u know someone has at least tried it #wf ocs #wfoc: grun #wfoc: dyanta

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jonesyjonesyjonesy · 3 months

Text

Wildflowers (pt. xxii.i)

a john paul jones x fem!oc fic (in progress)

summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.

table of contents │ previous chapter

masterlist│ko-fi

notes: drug use, dubcon, attempted sa, violence, blood, nsfw

a/n: it seems unfair on such a beautiful day as this when i have witnessed joh in the flesh to bring you such an angsty chapter, but...here we are. the story, the fluff as we have known it, is about to take a turn. yet another two parter. please be careful with this one.

pt. xxii.i, jack-go-to-bed-at-noon

“'Damn. Julia. Right. Julia. Maureen is…' He laughed. 'She’s dead.'"

“The veins in your eyes. They look like…lightning.”

I pursed my lips.

“Did you know that?” he asked eagerly.

This wasn’t going well. “Lift your arms, John.”

The sheer curiosity in his expression turned into a smirk that would have been playful in a different moment, but for now made my stomach lunge to expel itself through my mouth. “Are you trying to get into my trousers?”

“I’m trying…to get you ready for bed. You need to rest,” I said as calmly as I could though my blood had been absolutely roiling for the past half hour.

John lifted a hand, unsteady like he was under anesthesia. He gripped the collar of my dressing gown and tried to pull me down toward him, but his strength was buffeted by whatever was in his system and his hand plummeted to the mattress. “You really ought to buy a lady dinner first, Maureen.”

I should explain from the beginning, shouldn’t I?

It started with one of John’s nightly phone calls, the ones I’d been surviving off of once again after he returned to Headley Grange after my birthday. Weeks had passed and the girls and me were…surviving would be the best way to put it.

This night’s phone call, this bloody fucking night’s phone call, was out of the ordinary because it was made from a telephone booth.

“I don’t have long,” John said, no, slurred into the receiver.

“You’re drunk,” I remarked with a giggle. Not the first time I’d dealt with him intoxicated or under the influence of some substance on a phone call. Speaking with him in such a state didn’t sit well in my gut, but clouded by the haze of what I thought to be love, I was willing to overlook it.

“Not drunk. Tipsy,” he replied with an obvious smile on his lips.

I had been awaiting his call on the sofa, nodding off several times before the phone finally rang. I was admittedly grateful the call would be short. “And I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, darling,” he cooed. “Of course you are. You should sleep.”

“I was waiting for your call.”

“Did I keep you awake?”

I let out a laugh, shaking low in my chest. “Yes, you dolt. Now say sweet things to make up for it.”

“Ah…let’s see…”

The seconds ticked by.

I lifted myself onto my elbows. “Have you forgotten all the things you like about me?”

“No, no, not at all. I’m trying to decide how to say what I want to say.”

I stared across the room without seeing, heart pounding at the back of my tongue.

“You’ll say I’m being…I don’t know.”

“Say it, John, just say it.”

There was a thunk on the line. John leaning up against the wall of the phone booth or accidentally knocking the phone against the holder. I wondered if he was really so drunk he was swaying back and forth.

“We should tell them, shouldn’t we? They should know.”

I furrowed my brow. “Your bandmates? What on Earth do they have to do with anything?”

“No, no, no, MmmJulia.”

I sat all the way up, my adrenaline pumping, completely erasing my previous desire for sleep.

“When I get home, I’m going to tell the girls. ‘Bout you and me.”

I sucked in my cheeks to hold in a squeal of delight. I wasn’t sure it was warranted. Had to remain coolheaded. Reasonable. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know what –” He hiccupped. “I know what I’m saying.”

“Mhm. Well, call me in the morning and tell me if you remember, alright?”

“Julia.”

I shut my eyes and pursed my lips. Damn him for the way he said my name like that with such need it made me forget myself.

John breathed harshly into the phone. “I’ll remember.”

I swallowed. “Just because you’ll remember doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.”

“You don’t want me to tell them?” His question was equally taunting and disappointed.

“I didn’t say that, I just don’t know if they’re…” The girls would never be ready. It would never be the right time. Regardless of their affection for me, I was explicitly in their eyes that I was Julia. The nanny. I would not fill the role of “mum”. But stepping into the spot next to John would change that. To tell them that we’ve been pulling the wool over their eyes, doing the things their mother did with their father, hiding behind a moniker.

Children are always smarter than we give them credit for.

I could already imagine the betrayal they’d feel.

“They’re ready,” John said firmly. “They’re – I’m ready.”

But I wasn’t going to argue with that.

“Running out of time, got to go.”

“Be careful.”

“Am. Always. Sleep.”

He hung up without another word. And though my heart throbbed excitedly at the idea that maybe our transformative relationship would transform even further, I couldn’t shake the emptiness I felt looking at the phone in my hand.

Being with John, really with him, would mean taking on all parts of his life. He’d have to take on mine too, but not in the same way. Not when mine was so small in comparison. Not when I had packed away my life to fit into his because it was my job. My duty.

As his employee.

As a woman.

I let my mind rove the place I had never let it go before.

To be with John. That would mean an eventual marriage, wouldn’t it? And an eventual marriage would mean a commitment to caring for his children. Having more, should he be agreeable to it. I would go from nanny to mother.

Ostensibly, nothing should change.

But it would.

Because I had not yet seen the hard parts of a musician’s life. Over those few weeks, John was only a phone call away. If something was wrong, he could make the drive back whatever time of day.

How would I survive with him across the ocean?

How would I survive knowing the kind of man he became when the woman he loved was out of reach?

I spiraled so fast for so long that exhaustion returned quickly. I buried myself in bed, trying to push away all of my questions. I could save those for the light of day. For a sober John.

At least that’s what I thought. What I hoped.

Instead, I woke up to a crunching sound outside. Brittle and hard against my eardrums. I leapt out of bed and hurried to the windows overlooking the driveway, peering through the curtains.

There was a dark blue car I’d never seen parked askew in the driveway, illuminated by the yellow lamplight. In its wake, one of the stone planters was left shattered across the ground, dirt in the tire tracks, flowers smashed up.

I held my breath and watched as the driver got out of the car. Feral haired and bearded.

Richard Cole.

An arm shot out from the passenger window and a bellowing voice cried out, “Ya thick fuckin’ wanker!”

A voice I'd recognize anywhere. The voice of Peter Grant.

Richard growled something in return before slamming his car door and tripping toward the front door.

I leapt into action, afraid that in whatever state he was in it would wake the girls, grabbing my robe and sprinting down the backstairs, past the studio, and into the foyer.

The banging began just seconds before I reached the door. Bang, bang –

“One moment!” I hissed as loud as I could, pulling my robe on to at least be somewhat decent. I threw open the door. “What the hell are you doing here?” I say, tying a defiant knot in my robe sash.

Richard, whose first impression had not been terribly pleasant back in Montreux, had a marked look of fear in his eyes. Rather than being tense at the corners, they were loose and…wide. “John, he’s –he made us come here.”

A jab of unease in my chest. “John.”

“Yes, yes, he’s –”

I pushed past Richard and descended the front steps, paying no mind to my bare feet, set on the backdoor of the car.

Peter emerged just in time to intercept me. “Julia, wait, I need to warn you –”

There was an inconsolable sob from the back of the car, one I had not heard since that night on the kitchen floor when John broke the glass and the world shifted on its axis. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked, trying to get past him as my insides did everything to lurch me into the car to get to John as fast as possible.

Peter grabbed my bicep. “Listen to me. It’s all just a bad reaction.”

“Please, please, please –” John begged.

His pain was my pain. All of my nerves trembled, desperation rippling through my muscles. I pulled against Peter. Need to get to him. Need to –

John went on and on. “I need to see her, I need –”

“Let me go,” I snapped at Peter.

John shrieked. I’d never heard a sound like that from a grown man.

But it wasn’t wordless.

It was –

“Maureen!”

My entire body went rigid. I stopped fighting Peter’s strength.

“Julia…” Peter said in a soft tone.

I finally looked up at the giant. I was surprised Peter was capable of such gentleness.

“He does not know what he says,” Peter went on, words clipped and precise.

“He misses her,” I said in a vacant tone.

Peter shook his head. “No, no. He thinks she’s here.”

The crying continued. The begging for her. “What did you do to him?” I asked, trying to buy myself time before I had to face the wailing mess.

“No one did anything –” Richard began to argue.

“Cole, fuck off,” Peter pulled out his Mr. Hyde impression before shifting back to Dr. Jekyll. “You know what it’s like? The drinking and then the pills and –”

I ripped my arm from his touch. “I do not know what it’s like.” Not even my torrid past could have prepared me for this.

Peter huffed, holding his last thread of patience for me. “It’s a bad trip. That’s all. He’s confused.”

“If it’s just a bad trip why did you –”

He grimaced. “He’s been going on like this for hours now. We can’t get him to stop. And we thought seeing you would bring him back. Remind him of the…the reality.”

I looked between Peter and Richard. Their expressions told me everything. They knew. Not only in a Montreux, “Let’s get John laid,” way.

They knew everything.

Gathering my courage, I pulled away from Peter and Richard, grabbed the car door handle, and pulled it open.

John was splayed out in the seat, head resting in the lap of a man I’d never seen before whose exhaustion with the situation was split with a smile of relief at the sight of me. However, John didn't seem to notice me as he convulsed with full body sobs.

“John?” I said, interrupting the weeping.

It took considerable effort for John to lift himself and look at me. His face was streaked with tears, hair a wreck, and his eyes black as night with the kind of high that takes you low. “Oh. Julia.”

Is that disappointment?

A smile crossed his face. “Juuuulia." He slapped his palm to his forehead, a bubbly guffaw tripping out of his mouth. “It’s Julia, of course it is.”

“We told you we’d take you home,” the man says meekly, voice tinged with an Irish accent.

“Yes, but I didn’t – I forgot –” John wiped his hand down his face and collapsed back into the arms of the small Irishman. His expression looked like it was melting. “Not Maureen. Julia.”

My stomach twisted. I leaned down onto the seat and held out my hand. “John, why don’t we head inside?”

John reached out for my hand, fingers stumbling to interlock with mine.

I pulled while the man pushed until John was sat on the edge of the seat, the soles of his shoes landing against the gravel as if for the first time. He curled forward, his head making him top heavy. I braced his shoulders. “John –”

While his body lacked strength everywhere else, his arms looped around me, right under my backside, his face buried into my belly. He inhaled deeply and then, on the exhale, said again, “Julia.”

If we weren’t being watched, I would have reciprocated the intimacy. Instead, I tucked my hands under his arms and started to lift. “Can you –” I grunted. “Stand?”

“Of course, I can stand,” he mumbled, rising to his feet, dragging his face up the length of my body until I forced him away.

“There you go,” I said with an attempted smile, my hands on his shoulders. “Let’s go upstairs and get you ready for bed, hm?”

He nodded hardily. “Oh yes. Yes, yes –“ He spun on his heel and took a step forward. Immediately, his legs gave out, crumpling beneath him like paper.

“Easy, there,” Peter said, catching John by the upper arm before he fell to the ground.

In Peter’s grip, John looked like a toddler being dragged out of a store for throwing a tantrum. I couldn’t help my revulsion. “Let’s get him inside," Peter ordered, almost nonplussed.

Richard grabbed John from the other side and began to drag him into the house.

I padded behind them, trying to get their attention. “You have to be quiet, the girls are –‘”

“Uh huh.”

“Take him up the backstairs. To my room,” I said, no longer afraid of my lack of propriety.

John’s head bobbed backward.

“Jesus Christ, for a little guy he’s dense, isn’t he?” Richard strained as they dragged John to the door.

“For fuck’s sake.” Peter ripped John from Richard’s grip, a doll rather than a person, and threw him over his shoulder. “Lead me, Cole.”

“Please, just not the main bedroom,” I squeaked, trying to snake past them to lead them where I wanted them to go.

John turned his head against Peter’s back toward me, eyes gleaming. “Juuuuulia.”

I stopped in my tracks and contemplated running in the other direction. That was not John. Not the John I knew. This was his doppelganger. It must have been. Otherwise, this was an alternate personality, one I wasn’t supposed to see.

A part of him I had been blissfully ignorant to.

I watched them go inside, remaining planted in one spot, wishing I could go home.

But home was here.

“Mandrax.”

I turned to find the little Irishman at my elbow. He was rearranging his black locks, palming it flat on his head.

“At least some of it was Mandrax,” he said, dropping his hands at his sides and smiling sympathetically. “Pills. Mix them with alcohol and lord knows what else…”

We both stared through the open door, watching Peter and Richard struggling up the stairs.

“He’ll be fine in the morning,” he offered.

“Yes, but will I?” I said, attempting a joke.

His eyebrows lifted. “That is a question, isn’t it?”

I exhaled through my nose, something like a laugh, but pathetic.

“I’m BP. The boys call me Beep.”

I tried to smile. In better circumstances, I would ask for the rest of his story. But tonight I wasn’t allotted that privilege. “I’m Julia.”

“Mm. Yes, well aware.”

I wondered how aware. Was he aware in passing? By accident? Had John tripped into another realm of consciousness and waxed poetic about me? “Sorry you got roped into this.”

He shrugged. “Happens with them.”

“Fuck’s sake, Cole!” Peter boomed from inside.

My body lurched back into action, into the house and up the main staircase. “You need to be quiet!” I scolded in the loudest whisper I could muster.

Peter turned, halfway in the door of the master, causing John’s head to knock into the doorframe. John whimpered.

“Oh, fucking hell," Richard hissed.

I followed Peter and Richard into the master bedroom and monitored John as he was laid out across the bed. I didn’t even care at that point they hadn’t followed instructions. I just wanted them gone.

“There you go, mate. You’re home now, alright? Nothing to cry over. Julia's right 'ere. She'll take care of you, alright?" Peter said, dusting his hands together. “Julia, hope you don’t mind if we bunk up.”

“Here?!” This was sheer lunacy.

Richard snorted, “No, in the stables. Where else?”

“We can’t make that drive again, not after all this. We’ll be out of your hair in the morning and we’ll take ‘im with us,” Peter explained, jerking his thumb at John.

I glanced at John who seemed nearly catatonic with his eyes trained on the ceiling and his hands bunched up on his chest. He’d be fine for a few moments, I reasoned. “Fine. Follow me.”

I led Richard, Peter, and BP, who lingered in the doorway like a phantom, down the hall to the guest rooms, the doors directly across from the girls’. “I swear to god, if you make any noise at all, I’ll have you drawn and quartered tonight.”

"I'd believe her," Beep muttered.

“Promise, all we need is a place to lay our heads, love,” Peter said, giving me a squeeze on the shoulder.

I threw my hands up in the air. “Just don’t wake the girls and we won’t have a problem.”

I started back down the hallway, leaving them to squabble and figure out who would share a room since there were only two to speak of. Before I slipped into the master, I glared over my shoulder and hushed them once more with narrowed, deathly eyes.

In an instant, the three men disappeared into the guest rooms.

With that settled, I could deal with John.

The room was silent except for his breathing.

It was the first time I got a good look at the room. Everything was spotlessly clean, not a hair out of place. Just a thin coating of dust across the room. And a glass on one of the night stands with a dried up ring of dust in the bottom. The water had completely evaporated.

A chill went through me, imagining who might have put the glass there with the intention to return to it at a later date.

Whether it was Maureen or John didn’t change the tragedy of the object.

John began to hum and swing his legs. He flung one hand through the air. It landed on his belt buckle. “Get these off,” he muttered in discomfort. His hand flopped like a dying fish, unable to grip and twist the leather the way he needed to be able to free himself.

“I’ll help.”

And that’s how we got into the conversation of the veins in my eyes being lightning bolts and the attempt at me getting his shirt up over his head and the flirtations and the…

“You really ought to buy a lady dinner first, Maureen.”

I ignored him though I strained not to cry. I removed his belt, but didn’t dare touch the closure on his trousers. His arms were slack enough that I was able to pull his jumper up his neck, then work it over his head. When he reemerged, he puffed hair away from his mouth, giggling. “Randy,” he said, unable to form a sentence around it.

“I’m not randy, John,” I say with firmness.

“You’re removing my clothes, M –”

“Julia,” I interrupted. “I’m Julia. Not Maureen.”

John’s lazy eyes crimped open, clarity forming somewhere in the back of his mind. “Damn. Julia. Right. Julia. Maureen is…” He laughed. “She’s dead.”

I wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, but I couldn’t just leave him half dressed in the master. In hindsight, I should have. I tried to tune out his repetition of the word, “Dead,” as if it was a beat to a song rather than a horrible truth as I pulled his undershirt up halfway, revealing his pale navel.

John’s hand slid around my wrist. “Jewwwwwwwwwel.”

I suppressed a smile for the nickname. Auntie Gin’s nickname. “Take it off the rest of the way if you can,” I muttered, then went to root through the dresser for a nightshirt or something to cover him up.

Measured breaths. Clenched muscles. Only a few more moments. He’ll be out soon.

John made sounds of struggle behind me. I didn’t turn despite wanting to help. There was the soft sound of fabric falling to the ground followed by a grunt of relief. “I feel funny.”

“Of course you do. That’s why you need to get some sleep,” I say, grabbing a very wrinkled nightshirt from the drawer.

John was no longer squirming; he looked tossed across the bed like a ragdoll. Breath thick and deep. The only thing that made it clear he was still alive.

I returned to him with the shirt. One more step to victory. John seemed unaffected, staring off at something. A hallucination or a waking sleep. I took this as my opportunity to remove his pants. It took a bit of effort to wiggle them out from beneath his body without his help but not much. My heart plummeted to see his bare legs, the slight of skin where his briefs shrouded his crotch. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want him. The feeling of desire…all drained out of me.

Of course, it’s more than natural not to want someone at all times.

But since Montreux, before then even, all I had done was want. And I had had.

What emptiness would arise if desire was not there to fill it?

I didn’t want to think about it.

“Just the shirt and then you can rest, John, alright?” I said softly.

He cooperated as much as he could. Sitting up took all his might, but once upright, I was able to shimmy the shirt over his head, down his torso. It was long enough to hit midthigh, swallowing up his small frame. And his smallness made me even sadder.

“There you are,” I said. “Ready for bed.”

John started to lean forward. If I dared step away, he would teeter off the edge of the bed and come crashing to the floor. I remained before him, let his forehead clunk against my clavicle.

“You didn’t just pass out, did you?” I asked. My pulse quickened. I grabbed his arms to shake him. “John, you’re awake still aren’t you?”

“Yesssss,” he slurred into my chest. “I’m…” he sighed. “Awake.”

His lips traced my skin with each word, like a baby drooling against my breast and…it endeared me to him. I wish it hadn’t.

I tentatively scraped my fingers through his hair to the back of his scalp and dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. He didn't need my ire. Not right now. In the morning, I'd want him to remember the way I cared for him? Not the anger or disdain.

“Mmm…”

“Julia,” I said firmly. “I’m Julia.”

“MmmmJuuuuuuulia…” John self-corrected.

“Yes, that’s right.”

John’s mouth opened wider, a messy kiss against my skin, spit trailing over my clavicle.

“John…” I admonished. But I did not draw away.

A mistake.

I let him kiss the spot over and over. Juvenile. Inexperienced. Like a barrister’s son in a closet.

Something about it…so nostalgic.

I could have a brief moment of longing. Of realizing how good it was to hold him when I expected another week before he'd be home. Of remembering what he said to me earlier that night on the phone. If I was going to be his and vice versa in not only our eyes but those of the girls…I could do this. I was sure I could do this.

Only a brief moment, though.

Because in one singular moment in time, that delight was eclipsed by pain. Sharp pain, potentially skin splitting.

He bit me.

Teeth sunk into skin, viscous and full of claim.

John fucking bit me.

I yelped out, tried to jerk away, not caring if he tore the flesh off my body. Would be better to lose skin than be cannibalized by a lover.

John wrapped his around me, splayed his hands against my back, overcome by a sudden strength, and pulled me toward him.

“John, let go of me,” I cried out, pushing on his shoulders.

His mouth finally released the patch of skin he’d suckled. He growled. Something. Words I didn’t know, could not hear, did not care about.

I just wanted him to let go.

Something was coursing through him that reversed all the lethargy, something that propelled his strength to a level I’d never known and didn’t know he was capable of. Before I could squirm out of his grasp, John pulled me off my feet and rolled himself over me so we were clumsily pressed together on the bed.

He dragged his mouth across my chest to another open plot of skin.

With an open palm, I pressed his forehead away from me.

He laughed, muttered a garble of my name.

My whole body was hotter than hell as I tried to wriggle myself out from under him, inching further and further onto the bed. But somehow, John’s body had transformed into a lead curtain over me, pinning me to the bed, one of my hands unceremoniously scrunched behind my back.

I could not move.

And he had all the control.

“John, don’t,” I said through a tense whisper. I could scream. I could shout. But I wondered who would come running first. The men. Or the girls.

I couldn’t risk it being the latter.

John’s hands slid down my thighs, moving up the fabric until he cupped my bottom and squeezed. Hard. Until it pinched.

I again tried to squirm away. “You’re hurting me!”

“Randy…” he drawled, lifting his head and smiling stupidly.

John launched himself forward, toward my mouth, his hardened erection grinding into my belly, painful from the poor angle.

His teeth gnashed into my lips. I tasted metal in my mouth, blood drawn from a split lip.

I had only a moment to think.

One of us would be the villain in the morning. And I couldn’t bear for it to be John.

I forced my hand onto his chin, cupping it as hard as I could, then pressed him back away from me, enough that he couldn’t snag another kiss.

Our eyes met for a split second and I nearly lost my bravado.

I couldn’t live with myself if I did, though. That’s what I decided in that moment.

I released his chin, wound my open palm back, and slapped him hard in the side of his face, my palm connecting with his cheek and part of his upper lip, and my fingers clipping his nose.

He howled in pain, retreating back onto his knees.

I was released from the vise of his body and yet I felt as though I was moving through molasses as I dragged myself back across the bed to the opposite edge.

John’s hand covered his face, the wince still settled over his eyes.

I waited. A moment. Another. Praying he would find reality again.

Finally, he withdrew his hand to reveal a streak of cherry red blood pouring from his nose and down his chin. Quite literally dripping. Already a few dots blotted the fabric of the bedspread.

I didn’t know I had that kind of strength in me.

John was at a loss for words. Nonplussed, of course, by the mess. But his eyes were filled with that same distress he met me with when he was laid up in the back of the car, jerking back and forth, full of new tears. “I…” he started.

“I told you to stop,” I said icily. “I told you not to.”

He looked down at the bedspread spattered in his blood. It was a lot of blood, enough to give me cause to worry. Except I couldn’t.

Not with terror gripping my body.

What do you do when the man you know shows you the monster you didn’t think existed in him?

John folded his lips together, blood smearing through the creases. “Mm. Mmm.”

I would not, could not sit here and be called his wife’s name. Not after he nearly had the gall to take from me.

I tore up from the bed without another word. The floor traveled beneath my feet, something in control of my body I had never known before, until I had my hand on the cool door knob. It settled my temperature just enough to come back to reality.

“No, no, no,” John was moaning. Movement. Footsteps. “Don’t go. Don’t go.”

I threw open the door and turned to slam it behind me, getting one last glimpse of John to my horror.

His blue eyes were alert to the point I thought they might fall right out of his head. His hair mussed. His face…bloodied. And the fresh nightshirt looked like a smock he’d worn to butcher a pig.

And he was coming toward me.

I did not wait.

I shut it with all my might and held tight to the knob. It jerked and jittered in my hand, scraping my skin. But I didn’t care. The animal was to stay inside the cage. That was my only goal.

John put up a good fight, clawing at the door, desperate to pull it open. On more than one occasion, he managed to pull hard enough to get an inch or two of space for his fingers to slip through. If he could just wrench the door open, he could pull me back inside.

I leaned back, all my weight going into keeping the door shut, and tucked my head between my biceps, praying he’d give up.

Over my heart pounding in my ears came his sounds. “Please, please, please let me out. Please don’t leave me alone.”

A despondent cry shuddered through the door, so loud it vibrated the door knob. A thud against the wood. No doubt the weight of his body giving up. Giving in. The inching slide of his form to the floor. The repetition of the word “please” until it was shrouded by tearful sobs.

I fell to my knees in front of the door, my hand still on the door knob in case I needed to tame the beast again.

John was only an inch away. Weeping.

Not for me.

Not even because of me.

It was all for her.

All the same, I leant my head against the door and listened to him weep, held vigil. I didn’t have vespers for the mass, but I remained there all the same though I could still feel his fingers dimpling my thighs though I’d said “don’t”.

“What did I do wrong? What did I do? Why did you leave?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated over and over to every question until eventually not a single question was left.

All that remained was soft, hollow breathing on the other side of the door.

"Go to bed, John," I said hoarsely, trying to smile so my voice sounded soothing. "It will all be better in the morning. Alright?"

There was no answer.

"John?"

Nothing. I thanked the lord he was probably asleep.

I dropped my hand from the door knob. My muscles and bones ached from keeping the position for so long.

“Julia.”

I jumped at the sound of the small voice. I turned to find Tamara in the hallway outside her door, her ruddy hair all askew.

“What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

She rolled her hands in the front of her nightgown. “What’s going on?”

I forced a smile. “Nothi—”

Something thumped against the door to the bedroom. Someone. A final rallying cry.

I grabbed the door knob again just to be sure.

“Who’s in there?” Tamara asked, her eyes widening with fear.

“No one,” I said without thinking. “Don’t…worry, alright?”

Children know more than you give them credit for. They are also children. And sometimes, though it hurts, the children must be lied to.

“Go back to bed,” I said. “Everything is fine.”

Though the hallway was dim, I could see her eyebrows knit together. Her eyes flicked from me to the door and back again. Then, she nodded and did as she was told, disappearing into the other room in an instant.

I sat with my back to the door and closed my eyes. It had started with a drunken promise. One that might break my heart, yes, but a break so minor compared to this.

Lifting a hand to my chest, I carefully slid my fingers along the inflamed bite mark.

The depressions made by his teeth remained.

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#thank you em for the feedback that was so good i could cry #john paul jones #led zeppelin #wildflowers #john paul jones x oc #wf #jjj

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