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signs-of-the-moon · 3 years

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Moon Rise Chapter 40

Warning: this chapter features depictions of an illness that may be considered similar to Covid-19, and could potentially upset those effected by it. Reader discretion is advised

Relief remained just out of reach of Grassclan in the following half moon. So many in the clan were ill, and the path to self recovery seemed long off. Every kit in the nursery had caught greencough except for Lightkit. Two queens managed to keep well. However, Cricketsong and Ashwhisker were miserable. They were working themselves just as tirelessly as the remaining warriors. They had to, if not for the clan, then for their young kits.

There were only ten cats left able to hunt, not including the medicine cats. Cloverpetal and Bumblethroat had died a quarter moon ago from starvation. Rosebloom and Beetlepatch were barely clinging on to life. And worst of all, there wasn't enough herbs to heal everyone. The Gathering this moon proved to be unhelpful. Every clan was suffering the same as Grassclan; even Treeclan who they'd aided earlier in the season. There was nothing left in the Land's Star for anyone to spare. Or at least, that's what the clans had claimed. A distinct memory had seared itself into Swiftcloud's mind. The looks on the medicine cat's faces at the Gathering were guilty. It was anyone's guess as to why. Some of Grassclan had speculated it was because the medicine cats were not permitted to share their herbs. While more sympathetic cats believed it was because they felt helpless.

At home, Snowfrost was being stingy with the last bit of the clan's catmint. Mistyleaf suggested giving the herb to the kits. And Goldensong insisted the catmint go to Rosebloom. But none of those options seemed to be good enough candidates. Snowfrost kept making excuses, reasoning that the catmint would be better used on those who weren't so weak, and cats that didn't wish to die in order to be reunited with their dead lovers. Although angry, cats didn't seem willing to argue about this. Snowfrost was the clan's most senior medicine cat. She'd handled bad Leafbares before, she knew what she was doing. But Swiftcloud felt a pang of doubt inside of her. She wondered if Snowfrost was holding onto the herb in case anyone she cared about might become ill.

One day, when the sun briefly decided to shine, Swiftcloud sat out in Grassclan's clearing. In the morning she had gone on a hunting patrol, with a bit more success than normal. In a little while, she would go out to hunt again. But for now, the white and black patched molly would enjoy some free time, sunbathing by Tall Stone. A few other cats settled around nearby, but a silence remain between them. From the peace and quiet surrounding her, Swiftcloud began to hear harsh sobbing coming from the nursery. In response she jumped to her paws, jerking herself into that direction to find out what the wailing was about. She crouched, peering beneath the honeysuckle bush's branches to get a glimpse of the cats inside. Cricketsong was sitting in her nest, head bowed and shoulders quaking. Snowfrost was in front of her, her silver tail swaying against the wool lined floor. It seemed the medicine cat had some grim news to share.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "there was nothing I could do to save them. The last of your kits has passed on."

Hearing the words only seemed to make Cricketsong cry more. Snowfrost remained in place as the grieving queen collapsed under the weight of her sorrow. Her cries seemed to echo through the whole of Grassclan's camp. Swiftcloud could feel the eyes of her clanmates on the back of her head. They must all be wondering about the news.

"You took my kits away from me, you fox-heart...!" Swiftcloud caught Cricketsong saying, pausing to catch her breath. "Why would you let this happen..? You have the herbs. Why couldn't you use them? Because your kits were taken away from you? Did you want others to understand how you feel? Does it bring you pleasure, to be so cruel?"

Swiftcloud's ears pricked immediately. Her kits..? Snowfrost was a mother?

Snowfrost's ears flattered against her head, a paw raised up to her chest in shock. Though her eyes narrowed, the medicine forced herself to be calm. "I have done nothing wrong," Snowfrost's voice was sure. "I did all I could with the resources that I have left." The medicine cat went out of her way to avoid making mention of her own kittens. Nor did she properly respond to Cricketsong's accusations. Or perhaps it only felt that way to Swiftcloud. She wanted to learn more about this new information. How had she not known before that Snowfrost had a litter? Maybe it was a secret kept among the queens? Swiftcloud knew they had their own Code to follow. Maybe hiding secrets like this was part of it. Still, curiousity burrowed itself into her brain like a tick to an elder's pelt. She needed to know more. But before she could even think about listening in to discover further information, Swiftcloud was spotted. Snowfrost locked eyes with the younger molly, a darkness within her icy gaze. Swiftcloud gulped, backing away from the den almost immediately. Her pelt burned hot with embarrassment. How could she let herself be so obvious?

With a rough shake, Swiftcloud was able to help the feeling mostly fade. But to cure her fluster completely, and to gather together her thoughts, Swiftcloud decided to take out an early hunting party. She called for the apprentices, Pollenpaw and Tulippaw. Then she padded over to speak with Frostfeather, who stood in front of the medicine den.

"Hey Frostfeather, wanna come with us on a hunting patrol?" She asked.

"Sure! Oh, but Im waiting for Rabbitstorm to finish getting his exam. He was feeling a little under the weather today, and mama forced him to get a check up. She actually dragged him over here herself, can you believe that? Sick with greencough and still stong enough to carry a fully grown tom by the scruff across camp!"

Frostfeather seemed to be in high spirits today, although that was how she normally behaved. However it was unusual to see her so cheerful during such a grim time. Most of her family had caught greencough; Pansypaw and Quailbelly too. And now, there was the possibility that Rabbitstorm was also sick. How wasn't Frostfeather freaking out or depressed? Maybe being happy was how she coped. Or perhaps it was all a facade, put on to keep cats from worrying. Swiftcloud wished she could figure out what the case might be. But she didn't want to press the matter. Every cat handled hard times differently. Swiftcloud didn't want to judge.

Out from under the medicine den tree, Rabbitstorm emerged. His eyes were a bit sunken, fur dull, but his head was held high. It was hard to tell if the lynx point tom was ill, or just tired.

"Hey!" Frostfeather greeted her brother with a gentle head bump. "How'd it go? What did Goldensong say?"

"Goldensong's not here," Rabbitstorm grunted. "She's in the elder's den with the rest of the sick cats... So apparently, Snowfrost's taken over as head medicine cat."

Swiftcloud and Frostfeather gasped in unison. Did that mean Goldensong had caught greecough too?

"Snowfrost said I'm fine though. I just have to take it easy," Rabbitstorm finished speaking.

"Are you well enough to come hunting?" Frostfeather queried, worry hidden behind her sing-song voice.

"Should be. I'll make sure I don't do a lot of running, so I don't become fatigued," Rabbitstorm reasoned with a nonchalant shrug. Swiftcloud and Frostfeather exchanged a glance but didn't try to pursue further conversation on the matter.

With a flick of her ear, Swiftcloud led her patrol to the bramble tunnel, down the hill and out into the frozen meadow. Their destination was yet to be determined, but wherever they would go, Swiftcloud hoped the area would be rich with prey.

In Rabbit Gorge, it seemed that her prayers had been answered. Today, the sun had drawn a few of the rabbits out from their warren. A couple of their kits frolicked in the snow, their paws crunching on the icy surface. An older pair laid out soaking in the sunshine, a content look on their yummy faces.

Swiftcloud could feel her belly rumble. The sight of the rabbits made her realize she'd forgotten to eat again. But her hunger gave her drive. If her patrol could catch all of this prey, every cat in the clan could have a chance to eat today.

"Tulippaw, Pollenpaw, come with me. The three of us are going to flush the rabbits out. Frostfeather, Rabbitstorm, be ready. Don't let any of the prey escape."

The cats of her patrol nodded agreeingly. Frostfeather bounced lightly in place, flicking her tail against Rabbitstorm's ear. Rabbitstorm was slow to respond, glancing at his sister to give a playful but tired glare. The littermates stalked off to hide behind a mound of snow, ready to ambush any rabbits who'd skitter into their path.

Swiftcloud made a motion with her head, prompting the apprentices to follow her lead. The three of them drew close to the rabbit's warren. Swiftcloud turned briefly to speak with the apprentices in the Silent Language. She instructed each molly to hunt in different a direction, herding the rabbits towards the same path. Swiftcloud then planned to give chase, scaring their prey towards Rabbitstorm and Frostfeather, where they'd be caught and killed.

Tulippaw and Pollenpaw grinned with excitement, scurrying off to complete their tasks while Swiftcloud lay in wait. The soft thud of paws scrambling through the snow alerted her to the prey's approach soon after. Quickly, the rabbits came into view. Swiftcloud struck out like a bolt of lightning, scaring the prey more. One sperated from the group, leaving it vulnerable and easy to catch. Swiftcloud pounced on the unfortunate creature, snapping it's neck, painlessly ending it's life. The pitiful squeals of the other three rabbits rung out, before being swallowed up by the meadow's silence. Swiftcloud grabbed her catch by the scruff, carrying it over to the rest of the patrol.

Rabbitstorm and Tulippaw worked together to catch and kill one particularly large rabbit. Pollenpaw and Frostfeather, meanwhile, had finished off the other two on their own. Swiftcloud smiled behind her prey. Their hunt had been a complete success. Tonight, the clan would feast, better than they had in moons.

The journey home took longer than it should have. While the mollies trotted on ahead, Rabbitstorm kept falling behind. Swiftcloud guessed it was because he was tired. Tulippaw eventually fell back to help the young warrior. She allowed him to lean against her, while she helped grab hold of his prey. Rabbitstorm glanced at her gratefully, able to keep pace a little better with the assist.

It was a relief when the patrol was finally able to return home. Swiftcloud's paws felt numb from the cold, and she could use a warm meal to restore her strength from the hunt. With her companions, she delivered her catch to the fresh-kill pile. Accomplished, Swiftcloud could begin to relax. That was, until a cat came to interrupt.

"What in Starclan's name do you think you are doing?!" Snowfrost snapped. Swiftcloud twisted around to look at the angry medicine cat, disturbed by her yowling. "Why isn't Rabbitstorm in the elder's den like I instructed?"

"Was he supposed to be?" Swiftcloud questioned, a brow raising.

"Wait wait wait-" Tulippaw interjected. She turned to Rabbitstorm. "Does that mean you're sick??" She gasped, backing away three fox-lengths. Her ears lowered, green eyes round with fear.

Rabbitstorm sniffled. "It's just a chill. I'm not as sick as the rest of the clan. I was still able to hunt."

"But you are still sick. You shouldn't have been out of your den. Muchless out in the meadow catching prey." Snowfrost padded up to the fluffy lynx point tom, flanking him. She grabbed him by the scruff, tugging on it to try and lead him away.

Rabbitstorm pulled himself from the medicine cat's grip, fixing her with an icy glare. "I'm fine Snowfrost," he insisted. "There isn't anything wrong with m-" before he could say more, the fluffy tom broke out into a coughing fit. His eyelids drooped, head lowering with fatigue. Clearly, he was far from alright. In fact, Swiftcloud feared their hunting expedition might have made Rabbitstorm worse.

Snowfrost lifted her muzzle, "Uhuh," she responded snobbishly. "As I'd diagnosed earlier, you have whitecough. Come along now, you braisen kit. Let's get you inside where it's warm." Once again the medicine pressed her flank against Rabbitstorm. This time he did not recoil against her touch. He allowed himself to be guided away, silently admitting his defeat.

"Frostfeather, Swiftcloud. See to it that the prey Rabbitstorm brought back is disposed of. We don't want anyone eating that rabbit. Starclan forbid another cat fall ill from it," Snowfrost commanded before they'd walked too far away.

"Yes, Snowfrost," both mollies meowed in unison. They watched as Rabbitstorm and Snowfrost disappeared from sight, turning their attention to the fresh-kill pile afterwards. The rabbits they had brought home looked too similar to distinguish. Finding the one Rabbitstorm had carried would be tricky. Swiftcloud leaned down to give each one a sniff, hoping scent would reveal the hunter of each piece of prey. But between the fresh smell of warm meat and the snow, it was hard to detect any cat-scent. Frostfeather lended her nose to the effort, standing straight once she'd given up.

"I think it might have been this one." The silver and white tabby pointed at one of the rabbits with her tail. It was obvious that she was guessing. But a guess was better than nothing at all.

"I don't know, Frostfeather. Maybe we should discard them all. Just to be safe."

"No way. The clan needs this food. Throwing away four decently sized rabbits in Leafbare would a crime! And a huge waste." Frostfeather twitched her whiskers, a look of confidence crossing her features. "Besides, I'm positive that I've chosen the contaminated rabbit. I'm a very good guesser. Plus I'm pretty sure the spot that it's in is the place Rabbitstorm placed his kill."

Swiftcloud's fur prickled with discomfort. "I don't know..." she wanted to protest against her friend's logic. But as she thought of what to say, the words seemed to escape her.

"It'll be fiiine, I promise. Look, I'll prove it." Frostfeather snatched up the supposed bad rabbt, pushing it away from the fresh-kill pile. She then grabbed another, pulling it towards herself. She dipped her head and pulled away at the creature's fur. And before Swiftcloud could say a word, Frostfeather had already taken a bite. The silver and white tabby chewed slowly. She swallowed her food leisurely, licking her lips with a satisfied smack.

"Mm. See? There isn't anything wrong with this food!" Frostfeather purred out. Swiftcloud was still skeptical. She observed her friend for a while, waiting to see if she'd start to feel unwell. But by the time Frostfeather had finished half the rabbit, nothing had happened.

Swiftcloud was satisfied with that result, moving over to share some of the prey.

"Yeah Swiftcloud!" Frostfeather cheered as the patched molly took a bite. The meat tasted fine, and smelled as delectable as ever. Perhaps their guess was correct after all. But only time would tell. After the mollies had finished their meal, the pair moved on to warm up in the warrior's den.

A while passed. The den grew dark as the sun finally set for the evening. The remainder of the clan's healthy warriors returned to the calm of the shelter. Shadowfang was the last cat to appear. He climbed into his shared nest with Swiftcloud, licking her muzzle in greetings. He appeared to be recently fed, by the smell of rabbit on his breath.

"Did you have a good day today?" Swiftcloud asked.

Shadowfang nodded. "Ashwhisker's doing well. I went to check on the kits for him today. The three of us shared some prey, and I gave them a good wash while they fell asleep. They're such good kittens. I only pray that they survive all of this. They'll be excellent warriors some day."

"I'm sure they'll recover," Swiftcloud assured. A flashback of earlier in the day crossed her mind; the news of Cricketsong's litter dying. Swiftcloud spressed a shutter, and pushed the memory away, silently hoping the same fate would not meet these kits. Her worry did not dissipate however, and she decided it was best not to discuss any more of their clanmates right now. "How about we get some shut eye, hm? You must be pretty tired. I know I am."

Shadowfang nodded in agreement, letting out a loud yawn. The mates pulled themselves closer, curling their bodies around each other's to warm up. The comfort of one another's presence was enough to lull both warriors into a comfortable, peaceful slumber.

The next morning, Swiftcloud was woken by the sound of groaning. Shadowfang still laid beside her, separated from her grasp. His body was curled, his paws pressing into his head. He trembled slightly in their shared nest, and his breathing sounded irregular. A worrying sight.

"Shadowfang?" Swiftcloud sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I..I think I need to see a medicine cat," he confessed. The tom blinked up at his mate with dull eyes, pain clear within them.

"Oh Starclan, alright. Come on, I'll take you to the den."

"No," Shadowfang countered, forcing himself onto shaky legs. "I don't want to risk you getting sick. I can walk myself."

"We've been laying together since sunset. I've already been contaminated. There's no point in trying to stay separate now," Swiftcloud pointed out, standing up to support him. Shadowfang let out a defeated sigh, padding along with his mate to the medicine den.

Upon entry, Snowfrost and Mistyleaf could already tell there was something wrong. Snowfrost stood, swaying her tail.

"Stars. Not another one." Swiftly she brought herself to Shadowfang. She gave him a good sniff, pushing a paw against his flank. "Lay on the ground for me," she instructed. Swiftcloud took a pace back and sat down to observe as Shadowfang followed orders. Snowfrost sat down by Shadowfang's belly, placing a paw on his chest.

"Take a few long, deep breaths."

Shadowfang did as he was told. With every inhale the medicine cat put her ear closer to the tom's flank. After every exhaled she moved her paw slightly. After one final large breath, Shadowfang began to wheeze.

"Mhm, I knew it. Greencough. We'll need to move him into the elder's den right away."

Snowfrost spoke to Mistyleaf, standing back up. Shadowfang lowered his ears, and Swiftcloud resisted the urge to wail. Oh my poor Shadowfang...

Mistyleaf left no time for the mates to mour or worry. She herded Shadowfang away to the back of the den, where another sick cat was staying. Frostfeather was in a nest, laying on her back. Crust formed around her nose and her usually perky personality was dull, almost silenced. The newly sick warriors greeted each other, awaiting instructions from the medicine cats. But before she could direct them to the elder's den, it seemed like Snowfrost had some investigating to do. She turned, approaching Swiftcloud.

"Did you or did you not throw away that contaminated prey yesterday?" The medicine cat questioned accusingly.

"We did!" Frostfeather insisted hoarsely from the back of the den."Or at least..I think we did? We uh..we weren't sure exactly which one was Rabbitstorm's..."

Snowfrost glared at the tabby molly crossly. "And you didn't think to get rid of all the rabbits?"

"We couldn't," Swiftcloud defended. "The clan needed prey."

"It's-it's better for a cat to eat and catch a curable disease than to leave them hungry and gaurentee death by starvation, right?" Frostfeather chimed with a sniffle. Mistyleaf shook her head slowly, resting her tail on Frostfeather's shoulders.

Snowfrost stared at her niece, emotions unreadable. "That logic makes about as much sense as a flying hedgehog." She sighed. "Well, no use crying over past decisions. What's done is done. We need to focus on the present. Shadowfang, Frostfeather, it's time we move you to your new den." Snowfrost moved to herd the sick cats together, helping each to their paws and making them use each other for support.

"Swiftcloud... would you mind staying here for an extra heartbeat?" Mistyleaf requested softly as she approached the other molly.

"Uh..sure," Swiftcloud responded nervously. She moved to touch her nose to Shadowfang's forehead. It already felt warm, which only served to worry Swiftcloud more. "I'll come visit you soon," she promised.

"You better." Shadowfang smiled weakly, flicking his mate's ear with his tail-tip. Snowfrost passed each sick cat a bundle of wool then escorted them out of her den. Swiftcloud watched on longingly. She didn't want to leave Shadowfang. But she knew if she spent to much time around him, she would get sick too. And she knew her mate wouldn't want that. And what would Mistyleaf think? Though she wanted to be with the cats she loved, Swiftcloud knew she had to take care of herself first.

The medicine den felt quite spacious today, with only Swiftcloud and Mistyleaf left within its confines. Swiftcloud resisted the urge to look away bashfully as she caught the medicine cat's eyes on her.

"Tell me, Swiftcloud, I'm curious. When you lived with the Twolegs, did they ever take you to see the Cutter?"

"The Cutter?" Swiftcloud parroted, unfamiliar with this clan term.

"I think Snowfrost said kittypets call it the vet," Mistyleaf elaborated, twitching her whiskers.

"Oh! Well, um, yes, actually."

Mistyleaf hummed thoughtfully. "And what did they do to you when you were there?

Swiftcloud shuffled her paws. "When I was there, the vet gave me an exam. Then they jabbed me a few times with a long silver thorn before putting me back into my cage."

Mistyleaf perked up. "Ooh. Very interesting... I think I've figured out why you haven't been affected by greencough, like the rest of the clan. Its seems that you might have an immunity to it. At least for this season."

"How are you sure?" Swiftcloud questioned. The news was to good to be true.

"This may sound strange. But I believe the vet injected you with something; some kind of liquid Twoleg herbs. The thorn might have been more like a mosquito's mouth, able to take and transfer things in and out of a cat's body. In this case, it would be a preventative herb for disease."

"So I... can't get sick?" Swiftcloud asked.

Mistyleaf nodded, eyes twinkling. "That makes you a great asset during this time," she responded, taking a step closer to the other molly. "Swiftcloud, I would like to ask you for a favor. Would you be willing to act as a temporary medicine cat's assistant? Mind you, I don't make offers like this lightly. But Snowfrost and I could use the extra help."

Swiftcloud's mouth gaped slightly. She didn't know exactly what to say. But as she thought about what this job may mean, it began to grow more appealing. Becoming a medicine cat's assistant would allow her to visit sick clanmates. And it would also mean she could be more useful to the clan. After careful consideration, she was ready to give her answer.

"Of course I'll help you, Mistyleaf. It'll be an honor to assist you and Snowfrost however I can."

Mistyleaf smiled brightly. "Excellent. In that case, we'll start training you right away! The sooner you know what you're doing, the better."

#warrior cats #warrior cats ocs #wc ocs #wcs #Signs of the Moon: Moon Rise #Moon Rise #Chapter 40 #happy holidays guys #I might not be finished the book yet but I'll still provide new chapters

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

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ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 3: Fall from Grace

full masterlist // series masterlist

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 3,639

Warnings: smut, kidnapping, stalking, slight bondage. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: chapter three is here!! they are finally going to start their festive, but steve is gentle enough to at least take things slow. things will grow more extreme in future chapters and i hope you’re ready for that. for now, let’s just enjoy, (lowkey) altruistic steve, yeah? enjoy! please leave a like and comment.

The next morning, you were woken up by a gentle caress on your hair, with a pair of striking blue eyes greeting you. Not that you had any clue whether it was actually morning. It could've been 3 PM in the afternoon for all you know, but the man before you; Steve Rogers, as he declared his name last night, confirmed it by rolling the words on his lips; "good morning."

You tried to sit up, but you remember that you were still bound in place since last night. He sat by the side of the bed, and he asked; "did you sleep well last night?" You didn't know how to answer that, so you nodded aversely. He smiled, not the menacing smirk that he displayed several times last night, but a suave one, like he was gratified by your sated rejoinder.

"I brought breakfast. You must be starving." You turned your head to your right side and a saw a small table standing next to you, containing a plate filled with scrambled eggs and bacon, the smell was so mouthwatering that your stomach grumbled at the absence.

You whined and pulled your hands scantily, hoping that it was enough to send him the message. "Oh shit, sorry." He made light of the situation and he moved slightly forward to uncuff you. You sat up and tried to take off the gag but he abruptly blocked your hands from proceeding any further.

"Let me do it." It was supposed to sound thoughtful as if he was lending a helping hand, but the glare in his eyes expunged the sentiment away for what he acutely implied was; "you don't get to make that decision of your own, little girl."

So you let loose your hands and yield into him to perform the task instead. You never cherished your freedom more than at that moment. You instantly contorted your body and grabbed the plate. You ate like you were a famished vagrant. You moaned at how succulent the meal is.

You ate in silence and he just sat there as he watched you gobbled up your food. The sound of the room was only generated from the clinking sounds of the metal fork hitting the silver platter.

When you were repleted, you put down down the dish and you drank the glass of warm vanilla milk on the tray. You gulped half of the glass and put it back on the tray. You didn't realize the remaining splotch of the milk had stained your upper lip milky white.

Steve cleaned it with the stroke of his thumb tenderly and he wiped it on his jeans. He didn't waste any second longer as he spoke up; "today, we are going to start our training. We'll go over the rules and learn the basics. We will see how much we can wrap today, and then we'll carry on tomorrow."

He got on his feet and picked up the tray from the small table, and he continued, "while I prep, you can take a shower."

Take a shower? Does this mean he was going to take you upstairs and let you use his bathroom? That's a good start, maybe, you might find a way to escape through the window or scream for help.

But your vision was cut short by his next instructions. He pointed at the direction of the staircase, but not specifically at it, but rather towards something underneath it; "you see that door over there? It's the bathroom. You can shower there."

You hadn't noticed that door before until it was pointed out. You had only been here for, you assumed, less than 24 hours, there were a lot of things you had yet to discover. After all, your first night here was restricted; you were bound on all fours and the dimmed bulb on the ceiling could only provide so much.

"I'll give you an hour to be ready for me. I expect you to be all cleaned and fragrant when I come back." He leaned down to your level and spoke composedly. "When I'm back, I want you on your knees, with your hands placed neatly on your thighs and your chin down to the ground, understood?"

You nodded. Ever since you got here, it seems like you had lost your ability to form a sentence, you could mumble a few primary words, but you still felt so caged inside despite not being restrained any longer.

"Words, sweet girl. I want you to use your words."

"Yes."

He raised his eyebrows and made a questioning look, you didn't seem to get to hint, so he proceeded; "yes what?"

Your brain quickly recalls last night's events, where he told you that you may call him sir at "certain times" and you immediately knew that this was the moment he implied.

"Yes... Sir." With that, you earned a murderous smirk on his face as if he was amused by the way the sound of the epithet rolled off your lips.

"Good girl. I'll see you later." He left a kiss on your forehead and fled; passing the staircase, off he go.

You folded your knees and tucked them under your chin. What kind of rules was he planning to go over with you? Is he ever going to let you go? And most importantly, are you truly safe with him?

Steve took off from the basement and locked the door behind him. He was amused by how obedient y/n had been so far, he quickly learnt how naive and innocent you were. He was going to have it easy when it comes to molding you into his favorite possession. The girl he had fantasized about for months; you were nearly there. You just needed a little more disciplinaries.

He calculated in head that in a few weeks, you were going to be innately capable of performing his orders. If he wanted you on all fours, with your head pressed down on the mattress and your hands tied tidily on your back, as he pounds vigorously into you, then you were going to do so, with only a single cue.

Yeah, he'll get you there. He just needed patience and perseverance.

He stripped himself off his navy blue plaid shirt and his worn-out jeans. He also pulled down his boxer and put them into the dirty laundry basket as his lengthy cock sprung free. It wobbled as he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the lights; the rustic interior came into view. There was a single, broad rectangular mirror on his right side, over the Pecan brown ceramic sink. The tile that topped the cabinet sink resembled the colour of its owner's hair; deep brunette brown.

On the left side, there was a single wooden framed window that was shut due to the windy weather that caused the fallen leaves of the trees to enter his cabin uninvited.

He diverted the shower curtains and climbed into the giant bathtub. He swiveled the shower faucet and let the warm water wash over him. His thoughts migrated to his discoveries last night. He had stolen her phone and her other personal things and stash them in the top racks of his closet.

While she was unconscious, she pressed her button onto the fingerprint passlock, and the screen lit up, displaying all of the menu icons. He looked through all of her social media one by one; her text messages, her Instagram, Facebook, emails, Youtube history, Google history, Google Play Books, and even her Amazon search list. He thoroughly scrolled through every app on her phone he could find, to dig deeper into her personal background.

From what he discovered, he hadn't learned much except; she was a nerd, the number of books she had yet to finish explained that much. Her history search revealed nothing much more than juvenile information, and the most recent ones were camping related info. She was on social media, but she didn't seem to have that many interactions cramming up her notifications. Her emails and text messages mostly consisted of professional matters with her, what he assumed, were her co-workers.

He also read several unanswered texts, saying sentimental things, such as; "I'm truly sorry for your loss." "I'll be here if you need me, call me soon!" "Do you need a friend? I can come over anytime! :)" "She was such a wonderful human being, she's in a better place now." "Stay strong, okay? Thinking about you here."

That made him curious. Why didn't she answer these well-intend messages? Who was this "wonderful human being" her acquaintance talked about? He didn't dwell on those futile questions for too long, he could ask her about it later, but now, he just wanted to learn more about his girl.

He clicked on the gallery icon and there was only a single file. He unfolded it, and the file revealed pictures that she took from the woods; the river, the trees, the scenery, etc. Then as he scrolled down further, pictures of an older woman surfaced. The older woman slightly resembled her. They both have the same eyes and that warm demeanor. Some pictures showed she was in a hospital bed, clad in a hospital gown. She looked pale and frail. He put the math together and concluded that this might be her mother, and that she was ill.

But her peer or whoever the hell that was, texted that she was in a better place now? Does that mean she was deceased? Is that why she came here all alone? To get away from her thoughts?

He'll learn the answers tomorrow, when she's awake, and when she's willing to talk.

After about an hour browsing through her phone, he decided that he had found enough. He decided to delete all her social media accounts and discarded her SIM card and the battery. Then he turned off the device and stash it back to where all her personal belongings were stored.

After he showered under the warm water and cleaned himself enough, he turned off the faucet and stepped out of the bathtub. He dried off his damp hair as he stared into the mirror, acknowledging his God-like, well-defined figure. His chiseled abs and bulky chest that could bring anyone in his way to their knees. He trimmed his unkempt beard just enough to keep it presentable. He brushed his hair until he was satisfied with how dashing he looks.

He stepped out into his room and searched through his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and put it on. He didn't even bother putting on a boxer or briefs, for he knew it would go futile anyway. Nor did he bother putting on a shirt. So he walked into his basement, where his girl was kept; shirtless, and eager.

Let the games begin...

The warm water washing over you felt pleasant on your skin. You took your time in cleaning yourself up, as your minds keep drifting to the last 24 hours. Still, the remaining questions in your head were; where the hell were you? who the hell was this man? what the hell did he want from you?

You squeezed the bottle of the shampoo onto your hand and you messaged your scalp smoothly despite your restless thoughts. You had walked into the bathroom fifteen minutes earlier, and saw how complete the bathroom was.

It wasn't much, there was a single toilet and a roll of tissue glued around a wall-mounted tissue holder beside it. You also found many feminine toiletries such as; coconut shampoo, lavender body wash, vanilla-scented lotion, deodorant, toothbrush & toothpaste, razor, blades, shaving lubricant, soap bar, and nail clippers.

In the tiny cabinet sink, there were a few white towels and washcloths. Inside the drawer, there were a few tampons and pads. You truly felt like you were a special guest at a fancy hotel. The cramped bathroom was even a lot neater compared to your own in your apartment.

It makes you wonder... Did he plan all of this? If he did, how long had he been planning for this? Your own questions rose the shivers down your spine. You decided to shake it all away and stepped into the tight space behind the curtains.

You turned on the faucet and let the warm water stream over your skin.

After you were finished, you wrapped one of the towels in the cabinet, around your body. You used it to dry off your face and your hair, then you walked out to the room. You were glad that he hadn't come back yet, so it gave you enough time to get ready.

How... exactly were you going to get ready? You just realized he didn't provide you any clothes or undergarments. So you sat in your bed, still clothed in the towel until you were ready to follow his instructions.

You weren't ready to find out what he meant by "there will be punishments" as he casually stated last night, so you dropped the towel off your body and hung it on the hook behind the bathroom door.

You heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps and you sprinted to the center of the room and knelt. You placed your hands neatly on your thighs as he instructed with your head down, not wanting to stare at his face. Despite it was part of his orders, you were also fearful of gazing into this man's eyes.

The sound of the door opening reverberated through the room, and your hands shook despite being perfectly still on your thighs. Your lips trembled at the mighty presence making a grand entrance. The sound of the approaching footsteps grew harsher and in seconds, a pair of black mudded boots covered feet came into view.

"You listened to my orders well... Good. We are off to a good start. Alright, let's begin our lesson today. You can look up now."

You lifted your head to look at his face, and you trembled. Seeing this man from down here hit you differently. He was majestic in every possible way. You didn't know whether that made you feel safer or even more terrified. He was leaning on a small table pressed to the wall behind him, his hands holding his bodybuilder figure.

"First, I want you to address me as sir when we are engaged in sexual intercourse. You have learned my name but it doesn't mean you can call me by my first name whenever you like."

"Second, I don't wanna hear you talk unless I address you first. If you absolutely need to, you may raise your hand to let me know. The only thing that I wanna hear from that mouth is your compliance, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Third," his eyes darkened. There wasn't a hint of emotions on his face, nothing but stone-cold, hard-rock sobriety. Like a supreme commander, commanding his subordinates. "I expect you to submit to me, fully. Your body and your mind belong to me now. I am in control of the way it works and I am free to choose whatever I want to do to you. No refusal, no recalcitrance, no inquiry. Trust me, the less you resist, the easier this will be."

You were stiffened in place, cemented on spot. He demanded complete submission; a person you had never come across before, the pieces of equipment that were foreign to you, a territory you never had the slightest bit of idea existed... You were forced to yield and accommodate yourself into it. You bit the insides of your cheek to forestall the tears. He already had you impotent, like a wounded animal succumbing to its injuries. Resistance would be vain now. So you let him take the wheel. Even if it means, your temple would be driven by him.

Maybe... Just maybe, after you've pleased him enough by letting him get a grip of you, he might let his guard down and you might even find a way to escape.

But not now, you must work to earn his trust first. You just needed to brace yourself and have self-control. This man promised you that he wasn't going to hurt you, after all, maybe in exchange for a few sexual favors, you might obtain your freedom.

So you entertained him, by saying his two favorite words. "Yes, sir."

"Alright. Now, get on the bed and lay on all fours, like you did last night."

You got on your feet and walked slowly to the mattress. It wasn't a comfortable one. It only had one pillow and not a duvet. It made you miss your own bed dearly.

You laid on the bed, seeking the most comfortable position, despite nothing that would actually make that much difference. You were still placed in the center of the bed, with your head on the pillow.

Steve followed you behind, and he restrained you again to the corners of the bed. He got on top of you, caging your hips with his knees.

"Today, I'm going to teach you how it feels to cum. Fall apart as you give into pleasure... You're never going to be the same once I'm done with you."

He started with nipping the sensitive spot of your neck, followed by the soft caress of his fingers, slowly moving down to your lip, circling around the bud, as he began to collect the wetness there. He moved his head down to your breasts, as he sucked your left nipple with his lips. The feeling overwhelmed you, you had never done this with any man before.

To say you were inexperienced would be an understatement. You had never dated anyone, let alone sleep with one. Your thoughts were jumbled with the sensation, you wanted to push him away, but you were bound in spot, your brain is telling you to tell him to stop, but you couldn't.

His mouth is taking its sweet time, moistening your nipple, as the finger on your bud didn't stop, but rather going faster, rubbing you up and down, that elicited a faint moan from you. What is he doing? What is this feeling? You didn't know. But you let yourself get lost in the moment. Thrilled to let him enlighten you.

He released your nipple with a loud pop and he continued his wrongdoing, by moving down to your most sensitive area. He stared at your sweet cunt and unhesitantly dipped his tongue into it. The lewd noises he was making with his mouth was making your head spin; you tried to block him out by sealing your thighs but he hindered you by wrapping his large hands around your thighs so tightly, you thought it might leave a red mark of fingers afterward.

His right-hand retreated to your breasts, to pinch the right nipple that was left ignored earlier. He groped you so fiercely that you shrieked from the pain. You shifted your head to the side to hide your pleasure, not noticing that his fingers had released your nipple to shove them inside you.

You threw your head back from the sudden intrusion. Your body felt electrified. The sensation was extraordinary. Him pleasuring you with his tongue was one thing, but his fingers stroking the sensitive spot inside you made you forget the dreary situation you were currently trapped in.

You lifted your head to look down at him, trying to figure out what was happening; you could see him engorging you with his eyes shut, as two of his fingers were scissoring inside of you. Your head was misty, and before you know it, your climax had washed over you. The sudden eruption of euphoria shocked you, as you give in to the bliss. You trembled from the unprecedented explosion your body made, as you panted harshly, ceasing you from moving.

Steve was exultant by his work, how he knew he had successfully taken the first step of breaking down your wall. How he managed to inoculate your brain with pleasure. His mouth and fingers had triumphantly turned you into an incoherent, cum-drunk mess, that you didn't even try to fight or resist him. It would be so much easier to mold you to a more advanced doll now.

He reached to your eye level and caged your head once more with his hands, as he alerted you from your post-cum bliss; "when was the last time you ever came that hard?"

You opened your mouth, with still uneven breathing, and answered; "I- I never..."

He squinted his eyes at you with a puzzled look. "You never what?"

You shuddered, cautious to not provoke him; “I never... Never done that before.”

You were comfortable with being inexperienced, until now. Until this dangerous man, who had just violated you began to interrogate your personal life; what if your celibacy incensed him because you weren't exactly what he was looking for? What he instead of releasing you, he decided to murder you and bury your body in his backyard?

He sat back, between your spread, cum-drenched thighs, and incredulously asked; "you are a virgin?"

You nodded dubiously. You broke off the gaze on his eyes, to look at the rustic wall shielding you from the world. Then his hand grabbed your chin to your move head back so that you were looking at him again; "hey, it's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You are here so I could train you. We've got all the time in the world."

You didn't know how you should react to that; should you smile because of the fact that he wasn't going to murder you? Or should that frighten you instead because that means, one way or another, he was going to corrupt your innocence, and there's nothing you can do about it...

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mocacheezy · 3 years

Text

Wanted to make a seperate post for this, because this stuff will go under a readmore. (damn it got long)

Added my two cents on this post, but here is what I do when I do have the energy leave comments on fics (and some extra thoughts on my kudoses):

Comments

There is such delight when I find a fic that I have to write my thoughts down while reading, because I love to scream my joy @ the author in the comment once I am done with the chapter/fic itself.

And hopefully by the time I reach the end of the chapter I can calm down enough to actually write something coherent aside from screaming and keysmashing.

Some fics get me that excited!

Some fics I had to put down while reading, so I could pace around the room, because the possibilities for where the situation could go are ENDLESS!

Some fics I've put down and picked up MONTHS later, because a chapter was just so good and made me feel SO MUCH, I was unable to read further!

There are fics I forgot about and returned to years later and was DELIGHTED to see them finished or still going (there was this one back on fanfiction.net that I adored with all my heart, and I plan on checking out what happened to it. The author went on a break around the time another fandom took my attention, but the fic was so good I still remember it from time to time. It made my life more than just bearable, it made me laugh to tears at some points. )

When a fic gets me that excited, I noticed I tend to either comment short excited comments before nyooming to the next chapter, or read all of it over a course of a couple of days, gather my thoughts and leave an almost essay long comment, because the whole fic was just so good and I want to say it all in one place!

There were a couple of fics that I actually WANTED to write essays on, because I appreciate the authors writting style so so so much! For some I still do, because holy hell, the writing and characterization is great, while ALSO gives us things canon/source material didn't explore. But, if I do that, I wanna do it good because KUDOS TO THE WRITERS!

There are also fics that have me grinning and commenting on what's happening outloud, but there isn't really that many questions popping up for me.

It's the delighted gasp and a "Bitch, you said WHAT? 8D".

It's the "Ohohohooooo this is going to h u r t".

It's the grimace or a snort of "You fucking bastard, I knew he was planning something."

With fics like that, I can sit still or do something that isn't too demanding attention wise.

It's relaxing. It's nice, it let's my usually very active and overwhelmed brain rest, WHILE ALSO giving me serotonin and the excitement/feels, but on a smaller scale.

With fics like this (especially one shots), I tend to leave shorter comments, because if I want to comment, but don' t have much to say, I'll still comment and tell what the fic made me feel.

"I liked/loved/really enjoyed this fic, it had me experience x"

Because I do like it! And so far almost every fic I read gets atleast one kudos because this stuff is so good and the authors are amazing.

I just don't have much to say at that moment. Or what I want to comment is missing something and feels too flat to me.

If I know I'll want to reread a fic, I usually bookmark it and write down some highlights/what I liked about it/make a comment of its own in the bookmark! Because looking at older bookmarks/bookmarks from a fandom you are no longer involved with can bring back quite the laughter... AND get you back into the fandom even!

Reading fics is supposed to be a thing you enjoy. If you are starting to dread it because you feel obligated to say something, hey.

Take a step back for a while. This kind of fear happened to me at some point when I was younger, especially when I started interacting with active content creators. They appreciate comments and those comments help so much when an obstacle presents itself and it seems like abandoning a story will be it. Comments and encouragment bring back the fire and joy of writing.

There is a comment I have yet to reply to, that's been sitting in my Ao3 inbox for 160 days (ALMOST 6 MONTHS, MOCA, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND REPLY ALREADY!).

It's from an author who really wasn't feeling motivated and the comment brought them such joy and excitement!

Why is it taking me so long to reply?

I never expect/wait for a reply from authors. ESPECIALLY not if it's a fic that's older (there are some amazing fics that were posted in 2013!!! Who knows if the author is still active in the fandom!*), or if it's an ongoing one that gets alot of comments. In the second case, it's because the author is already writing the fic, editing said fic and uploading it, could also be working on a bunch of different fics (because writting inspiration strikes at the weirdest of moments and as someone who has around 4fic ideas happening simultaniously, people who ACTUALLY WRITE THEM? Kudos. You are amazing.), not to mention most fic authors do this in their free time. So there's also their jobs, social circle outside the internet, on the internet and the amount of energy they have for social interaction with strangers online. Who am I to expect a reply to that behemot of a comment I left on their fic? If it made them happy, great! If it made them go "woah, that's alot of words" *shrugs*, eh. I am a rambler, it's what I do, if they like it they like it, if they don't they don't. Not much i can do about that, though I did leave a note on my ao3 profile that they can contact me if long comments/ramblings annoy them, so I can stay off their comment section and scream about my love for their works somewhere else. Noone has asked me to stop as of yet, but I like to offer just in case.

Most of my comments are actually posted as if I was at cafe or a restaurant, and was offered the Book of Complaints, Suggestions and Compliments/Thanks.

Complaints? I don't have complaints to leave, because it's my decision on what content I consume, and if I don't like it, I can always search for something else.

And if I didn't read the tags? Well, that's on me. That's like ordering a new dish when you have a food allergy, not reading the provided and highlighted allergen notes and warning, and then screaming at the staff when your food arrives. It's not THEIR job to know what kind of allergies their customers have. It's the customers.

Suggestions? Is the author asking for those? If not, no suggestions from me! If they do ask, and I don't have an answer I usually take some time to see if I have anything to offer.

Compliments/Thanks. That is the thing I love and what I click the comment box for. If a fic made me FEEL something, I will let the author know.

Do you know how amazing it is to read a fic and sit staring off into space after you finish it because "woah... that. That made me feel so much at once that I can't even name it." ?

When you read a crackfic, and keep snickering and chuckling, before you finally burst out in laughter or wheezing or snorting with tears in the corners of your eyes because "OH THIS GOLD, I haven't laughed like this in a while!" ?

When you read angst that tugs at your heartstrings and causes actual tears to run down your face and feel the anguish the characters feel?

When you read angst, but the story has a happy ending? Any you get to see the characters claw their way towards it, and actually reach it?

When you read hurt/comfort and there is that gentle care and love and safety that makes your heart melt?

When you read a fic that feels like sitting by a window with a cup of warm coffee while relaxing music plays? (this last one is becoming my favourite of them all and is actually the one I struggle to comment on the most.)

There is such a variety of works out there! So many talented and amazing writers, with their AUs and a billion different ways of writing!

3. I am a very forgetful person, who has to check her inbox more often. Plain and simple. Nothing more to it.

4. Some of these authors write back such lovely comments that make me smile everytime I open my inbox. I think I might make a scrapbook of some sort, to keep track of them, because getting the feedback of "HEY YOUR COMMENT MADE ME HAPPY/EXCITED!" or "I really appreciated this comment, thank you." makes me smile. ^u^

Seriously fic authors are amazing, and this is why "Kudos to them." has become a thing I say irl as well, and in any conversation where someone creating a thing is brought up. I may not know or have a strong opinion on the stuff someone enjoys creating, or have nothing to really say, so "Woah, Kudos to them." is my way of saying "I admire their work (but don't have anything else to say about it)."

Learning it means Glory? Hell yes, those works are worthy of praise,and the authors really are glorious.

So here's where that lovely button comes in.

Kudos

I use the kudos button both when I have a comment to write and when I don't. I spam that button when I like something so much words fail me, and I click it when a fic reads like I have just finished a cup of coffee.

If I use the cafe/restaurant thing I talked about before as an example, leaving a kudos, to me, is like giving a smile or replying to the waiter with "It was great." when they asked if you enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it, but I don't have anything else to say.

Maybe it was just an interesting read, even if not to my usual tastes. It might get a kudos.

And if I read something that I thought I would like but it turned out I didn't like it or I felt meh abput it?

Well, *shrugs* well.

I don't have anything nice to say, and I probably won't read stuff from that author. There are others who will and others who will leave a kudos.

I don't think much about it because I read fics for fun.

I ramble about them because I am having fun and finally know I can share my experience with others.

You guys have probably seen the "Holy shit two cakes!" comic, which was originally about how artists/writers feel bad when creating something with a concept that many other more skilled creators used.

I remember that comic at some point also being used to explain that "It really sucks when you bake a cake, but noone wants to eat it."

I can't speak as a writer, because I don't post the fics I daydream about (yet! I don't post them yet!), but here's a little thing my daydreamer self likes to think.

I baked my cake, and I can eat it too, but I hope the cafe I frequent has something similar too.

Translated?

I wanted to read a fic like this, I made a fic with the idea I wanted, I enjoyed the process and the result, but I sure do hope someone else also makes a similar fic in the future.

I do however mostly daydream my fic ideas. So again. These are just my thoughts on the whole thing that is Comment > Kudos/Like > Reading > Not Reading

#moca talks #fanfiction #Comments #Kudos #kudos to the writers #And kudos to folks who leave comments #And a kudos for the kudos givers #Long post #Like... One of the longest ones I've written I think

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