Scars Linger in the Mind
"Okay, man. You can do this. Gonna be a victory for Steve …!"
Steve, age fifteen, brushed the dull nub of his growing horn with a thumb before he curled his hands into figurative claws on the Glandus High grudgby field. Facing him was the intimidating form of a coven scout, a barrel-chested figure in the dark grey, leather-belted jerkin, high gloves, black, pinstriped harem pants, and point-toed boots, all covered by a hooded cloak and with the characteristic bird-like metal mask.
"Begin!" shouted a coven captain.
The scout traced a spell circle that summoned a wave of Abomination muck to come hurtling at Steve with a burbling groan. Steve traced a spell of Construction magic — his school track — that formed a pillar of stone to launch him into the air before he traced another for his one-and-only plant spell to summon thornless vines that invaded and rooted in the muck to keep it from moving around.
Next the scout hurtled chunks of stone at Steve while he was still airborne and unable to maneuver. Steve thought about using more Construction magic to shatter them as they neared, but pulled a harmonica from his uniform and blew a series of notes that sent bolts of compressed air streaking in front of him to shatter them into harmless pebbles. Bard magic.
As he landed in a roll, softening the field to cushion his fall with more Construction magic, he lunged into a second roll and ran as the scout blasted him with bursts of fire. Steve used his other specialty of Illusion magic to create a thick fog to hide his movements as he prepared a potion vial in one hand and a spell in the other.
He kept his steps light as he sprinted around the scout's last position. Not that he thought the scout would stay rooted — that would be silly. So he kept his ears peeled as he prepared to cancel the illusion. But first he ignited the spell in his hand, his one skill in Oracle magic. He felt a faint tingle in the base of his spine … that sent a shot of cold up his back! A warning!
He jerked to the side to avoid a wave of fire that came raging out of the mist … which gave an idea of his opponent's position. He canceled the mist illusion and hurled the vial of potion that shattered against the stone of the arena floor and iced it over, trapping the scout's feet and immobilizing him for real.
He traced another set of spells, one in each hand. His left burst into sparks and a high-pitched whistle as he leveled the other in a pointer pose he'd seen scouts use before, firing off bursts of flame of his own around the scout as a warning. The scout weaved his stationary body through the bursts and blasted his feet free, but then a bog snake wound around him and placed its fangs against his throat.
"Thanks, Lady," Steve said to the snake, a study subject of the Beastkeeping track that an ally had lent him for a favor from years back. That's what that other spell had been for.
The scout raised his hand slowly in the gesture of concession, and Steve was surrounded by coven scouts who raised his hand to the crowd. "Steve Malva! We welcome you to the Emperor's Coven!"
Steve worked with all his might to keep the tears of pride from falling. He couldn't look weak just after joining the ranks. He settled on smiling widely as his childhood dream started to come true!
Had he known what it was really like, he would have run as if his life depended on it.
Steve slid into a crouch and rolled away from an onslaught of spells cast by not one, not two, but three seasoned coven scouts! He fired back as much as he could, but he could never land more than a glancing hit on them. On the other hand, he and his new probationary scout uniform, colored grey instead of white, were littered with burns and stains of mud and blood.
This, as it turned out, was part of basic training. Wild witches, they said, were a constant threat to society and scouts had to be prepared to fight against overwhelming odds to uphold the Titan's will.
Steve was breathing raggedly as he dug deep into his bile sac for one last spell that sent a wave of earth rolling at two of the scouts while blasting the third with a rain of stones. They had to either jump or duck, which gave him enough time to close in and just barely get one pressed to the point of his sword.
"One down," he groaned, swinging behind the scout to use him as a shield against the others.
"Good enough," the captive scout surmised before batting Steve's sword from his trembling hands and knocking him to the ground. "But never assume that wild witches will care for their own." He stomped on Steve's stomach. "Or that scouts should be bartered for as hostages."
Steve didn't bother hiding his scream as he raced full-tilt through the underground maze. He jumped, slid, and spun as traps seemed to make themselves known at every possible interval, from long corridors, to alcoves, to corners and intersections.
Giant morningstars, swinging blades, spike pits, gouts of fire, poisoned darts that already had him feeling dizzy, falling logs- If you could name it, he'd probably seen it! Say what you will, these designers had imagination …!
Keen reflexes were key to capturing criminals and enforcing order, they said. If he couldn't survive this fourth maze of traps, how could he protect the Boiling Isles?
"This is nuts!" Steve shouted as a huge boulder came rolling down in the long stretch behind him. He ran as fast as he could to make the intersection before it squashed him flat, weaving between more traps as he went. He lunged off one foot into a turn and felt his probationary uniform cape brush the stone as it missed him by inches.
"Satisfactory, Malva," the newest training captain announced. "You pass."
Steve strangled the terrified scream in his throat as he raced through the knee-high snow and the crackling underbrush. A slitherbeast was on his trail as he desperately made his way down the small mountain he and a bunch of other recruits had been dropped on.
The goal was to make it to the bottom alive. If they succeeded, training was over, their probation was over and they'd have a day off before their real duties started up.
"Really shouldn't have used that longterm fire spell," Steve gasped as he kept running, barely able to keep his footing and keep from tumbling down the mountain. The slitherbeast roared and he couldn't stop the scream of terror this time. He ran up a leaning tree trunk and jumped for a branch, bounding between them as the slitherbeast jumped to try and catch him from below like a prowling cat chasing an unlucky eye-rat.
The next branch snapped and he fell before he could scream toward the slitherbeast's claws-!
Steve screamed at the top of his lungs as he lunged into a sitting position, his throat hoarse and his body coated in cold sweat. He gasped for air to fill his empty lungs as adrenaline pounded in his veins in time with his thundering heart. His breathing was labored as he struggled to take in enough of it, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
He felt the soft touch of a hand settle on the crown of his head and ever-so-gently lean him into something immeasurably soft. He heard a distant, unmistakably feminine voice talking to him, quietly and strongly. He heard "Deep breaths for Steve," and tried to follow the advice.
Slowly, so slowly, the tunnel of his vision widened and he found himself in his and his fiancee's bedroom. Moonlight poured through the window and illuminated the simple room, split down the middle between neat tidiness beaten into him as a scout and the organized chaos of his lady love.
Katya stepped back from pressing his cheek into her chest, one hand tracing from the top of his head and down his neck to settle on his shoulder, while the other clutched their bedsheets over her body against the chill of the night. "Steve?" she asked. He swallowed and nodded to show that he'd heard her.
"Was it the training?" she asked.
He nodded again.
"Which part?"
"… All of it," Steve rasped through his throat that felt tattered from all of the screaming.
Then Steve looked up and noticed the spreading bruise around Katya's upper arm. One that had not been there when they went to bed. "Oh, Titan," Steve gasped, coughing as his throat seemed to try and kill him. He reached for her on the instinct to try and offer comfort, but pulled back in shame.
"Oh, this?" she asked, quietly and with forced teasing. "It'll heal up soon enough. Don't worry about it."
Steve looked at her with tired eyes, the dark circles underneath enough to give Hunter's a run for their money. "I'll never stop worrying," he ground out before descending into another coughing fit. Katya's smile turned sad and she handed him a glass of water from their nightstand that he barely kept from guzzling down. When he'd taken a few sips, his nerves finally began to settle … and he curled in on himself as he fought to hold back tears.
This wasn't the first time he'd woken up screaming in Katya's arms. It wasn't even the first time she'd come to harm in the thrashing from his nightmares. But it never, ever got easier as she had to endure his traumatized screams. A nasty voice in the back of his head whispered that he was weak, pathetic, and undeserving of even her pity after serving a genocidal tyrant.
"Steve," Katya said gently, cupping his cheek in her hand to lift his eyes to hers. Her green gaze held not a speck of pity, but seemed to shine in the moonlight with compassion and caring. She brushed her thumb over his cheek to smooth the single tear that he'd allowed to fall since he awoke. "Let's get some sleep," she finished. She released her hold on the bedsheet to bare her lovely nakedness and climbed into bed to wrap them both in the sheet before she draped herself over him and relaxed.
Steve held her close, his heart aching for the bruises he'd left on her. "I'm sorry, Katya," he whispered.
"Don't be," she sighed back. "You of all people know I have nightmares, too." She nuzzled deeper into the firm planes of his chest. "Tomorrow's a new day."
Steve smiled wanly as exhaustion finally caught up to him, and he fell asleep with Katya's silky hair pressed into his cheek.
"Man, that's rough, Buddy," Severine said.
"Yeah," Steve grunted, his throat still sore.
He closed his locker at the Watchman precinct with perhaps more force than necessary and pulled on his navy-blue armored leather jacket that was part of the uniform, along with a dark undershirt and pants and steel-toed boots. An ash-grey cloak the same tone as King Clawthorne's belly and the tip of his tail completed the look, with a bronze clasp shaped like an offered hand that acted as the sigil of the coven.
"Still, though," Severine said, clasping her own cloak over an identical uniform for their patrol, "it must be pretty hard on both of you." She worried her lip between her teeth. "If you two ever need help, just let me know."
"Thanks, Sev," Steve smiled, his palisman Saimian sticking his head out from his partner's lowered hood with a wizened grunt, "I'll let Katya know."
Severine's own palisman whom she'd very recently earned from the Bat Queen's brood on Steve's suggestion — her name was Pepper, and she resembled a dragonfly with leaves for ears and twigs for legs, a furry ruff around her neck — expanded into her staff for her to walk with. Siamian took the cue and transformed as well.
"Nothing like looking out for real criminal scum to take your mind off home troubles," Severine groused.
"Let's go out and make a difference!" Steve cheered, leading the way out of the precinct and onto the streets for the day.
"Geez, that sucks," Derwin said as he patted a sheaf of papers to line them up before sliding them into a manilla folder that he sealed with some twine and placed in a filing cabinet.
"Can't believe the coven scouts went through all that crap," Amber grumbled, filling out some paperwork of her own. "I mean, we thought of them as bad guys and they were suffering more than the rest of us! It's not fair!"
Katya sighed as she polished the zills on her tambourine. The BATs had become Raine's personal staff after the coven heads had become the Council of Nine that acted as the de facto regents of the Boiling Isles in King Clawthorne the Titan's stead, and it was her day for guard duty. While she usually preferred this part of the job, today she was too worried about Steve to put all of her focus on protecting Raine. Luckily, it seemed Raine had noticed her mood and had announced that they would be working in the council headquarters all day.
"Have you tried sleeping tunes?" Derwin suggested. "They can help with both sleep deprivation and nightmares."
"I've asked him, and he doesn't want them," Katya explained. "It's easy to become reliant on them, and if I'm not around that could screw up any chance he has of a good night's sleep."
"What about his therapist?" Amber piped up.
"She's doing her best, but it's not an exact science," Katya said. "And it's not a cure-all, it only helps him figure his own stuff out." Katya felt her eyes burn as she put her tambourine in its case and banished it back to storage. "I just hate seeing him hurting so much."
"So do something about it in private," Derwin said bluntly. "If he's so stressed, help him manage it." Derwin thought over his words before his eyes lit up. "Have you talked to his therapist about ways you could help him with the stress?"
Katya blinked and then slapped her hand to her forehead. "Stupid brain," she mumbled before summoning her scroll. "Thanks, Derwin. Thanks, Amber. You guys are the best."
Steve quietly shut the door and turned the deadbolt before sighing with exhausted relief and hanging up his leather jacket that he wore over one of his casual "STEVE" shirts. It had been a rough day for him and Severine, mostly involving breaking up brawls in the market. And with his lack of sleep the night before, the day had turned out grueling.
As it turned out, being a captain who personally kept on patrols was almost as hard as the days of being a regular old coven scout.
"Katya? You home?" he called, brushing his hands over his face before he unlaced his boots and propped them by the door.
"In the bedroom!" Katya called back.
Steve gingerly padded his way through their apartment and opened the door, slipping in and closing it before turning to face the bed. His eyes widened and his jaw fell open at what he found.
Katya was laying on her side on their bed, dressed in nothing but a set of lingerie that was styled like a bloodred ribbon, the bow settled between her breasts. Her cheek was perched on one palm while her other hand rested on her thigh, brushing up and down the caramel skin to draw attention to her curves. And her eyes … Oh, Titan, her eyes were practically burning with desire.
"Hey, Handsome," she purred, lifting her hand to crook her finger in a come hither motion. "Care to open your present?"
"Wh- Y- Uhh …" Steve babbled, his tired brain almost overloaded as he drew closer on sheer instinct. Katya chuckled throatily and sat up, taking his hands in hers and placing them over her breasts. He gripped them gently on reflex and she sighed at the touch.
"You look like you've had a hard day, Stevey," she purred and gracefully stood up, keeping his hands on her breasts as she slowly turned so that the backs of Steve's knees gently hit the bedside and he sat down. "How about I offer some … stress relief?" she added smokily, and guided his fingers to the bow of her lingerie, drawing the strands and untying the knot to let the ribbon part and fall.
"Katya," Steve groaned with a faint smile … Then his gaze flicked to the yellowing bruise on her arm and his face fell. He looked away and jerked his hands from her, cheeks burning with shame. "I don't deserve you after what happened," he muttered, too tired to hide feelings.
"Steve," Katya said, all sensuality gone and replaced with clear conviction. She reached down and placed a hand on his cheek to guide him to face her. "I don't blame you, Steve," she said firmly. "After everything you've been through, I'd be more concerned if you didn't have nightmares once in a while." She drew him close and nestled his face between her breasts as if to hide him away from the world. "And as for the bruise, I know you would never try to hurt me." She sighed as she felt him relax just a little. "I love you, Steve. And one crazy night isn't gonna change that."
Like a sprung trap, Steve's arms wrapped around her middle and held her close. She gripped him around the neck and curled her head down over his, offering him all the genuine comfort she could.
"I still don't deserve you," he mumbled against her cleavage, though it was less despairing and more flattering.
"Agree to disagree," Katya replied with a smile. She eased him out of her bust and removed his shirt with smooth, practiced motions, the action so quick it left him bewildered. She pressed her hands against his muscled, scarred chest to ease him back onto the bed and then sunk to her knees to unbutton his trousers. "Now, I seem to recall something about stress relief," she noted with a sly, sultry smile.
"You don't have to-"
Katya chose that moment to jerk his pants and undergarments down, freeing his rapidly-hardening phallus. "I know," she said simply. "But I want to make you feel better." She inhaled his musk and dragged her tongue up the underside of his erection, circling the tip of her tongue around the tip of his manhood. Steve groaned at the familiarly intoxicating sensation, biting down on his knuckle to muffle louder sounds.
"Oh, don't be like that," Katya teased, massaging his testes with a free hand as she lightly ran her nails up his thigh. "You know I love to hear you, Stevey." She kissed the tip of his manhood before enveloping him into her mouth.
Steve obediently groaned at the wonderfully familiar sensation, his breathing growing slowly more ragged as Katya bobbed her head up and down, slurping obscenely as she pleasured her fiance. She grinned around his manhood as he held onto her shoulders to anchor himself. From their very first time together, he had never once held her head as if to force her, and that simple considerate spirit warmed her heart every time she sucked him off.
But as caring as he was, Steve couldn't resist the jerking motions of his hips as Katya drew him closer to orgasm. Which was perfect as she popped him from her lips and sat up.
"Wha-?!" Steve whined needily. "K-Katya, I-!"
Katya climbed up her lover and straddled his hips, hovering her entrance over his throbbing manhood. "Don't worry, Stevey. I'll take care of you," she purred before lowering herself onto him. Steve gasped and gripped her hips in his hands with almost mindless pleasure, and she steadied herself with her palms on his shoulders before rolling her hips.
Katya did nothing to hold back her pleasurable moans as she rode Steve, knowing full well that he enjoyed listening to her as much as she did him. She savored his tight grip on her waist as he thrust up into her and continued her steady pace, the heat under her skin rising as she felt him continue to tense beneath her touch and inside herself. She sighed with contentment when he finally released his seed, his back bowing as pleasure washed over him and he collapsed against the mattress.
Katya lifted herself off of Steve and grabbed a clean towel she'd stashed in the basket by the bed for just such occasions to clean herself off, then cleaned Steve off while she was at it. "Feel better?" she teased, tossing the towel aside and brushing her fingers over his broad chest.
"Uh huh," he sighed and reached for her. Katya giggled and settled into his arms, hardly thinking of it when Steve shifted them both so that he could spoon with her.
"You didn't come," Steve noted tiredly.
"It's alright," Katya said, lightly brushing his arms that were curled around her middle. She took a deep breath to savor the moment before moving. "I need to get started on dinner anyway-" She grunted as Steve gripped her tighter and held her in place. He gave a throaty chuckle and brushed one hand down her navel as the other stayed wrapped beneath her breasts.
Then he spread her legs and ran his fingertips up the slit of her womanhood.
"Ah! Steve!" she gasped, her core sensitive from their copulation.
"Katya," Steve whispered into her ear before heatedly kissing her at the corner of her jaw. "I love you so much. So please, let me take care of you, too."
"Steve, you're the one who's been so stressed," Katya argued, but it sounded weak even to her, threaded with moans from his fingers stroking her nether lips with practiced skill.
"You want to make me feel better," he recalled. "Well, making you feel good will help. A lot."
Katya's breathing was speeding up as Steve pressed his middle fingers into her, his thumb idly circling her clitoris. She reached backward and held the back of his head in her hands, leaving her breasts wide open for his free hand to grip and fondle them from behind, only adding tender to the fire building in her belly.
"O-Ok-kay," she groaned, panting now as her own hips bucked into Steve's touch.
Steve chuckled and kissed her cheek before pressing deeper into her, curling his fingers to reach that special spot deep inside while the heel of his hand took up grinding into her clitoris. He sped up his ministrations as Katya's moans grew into gasps and shouts of pleasure, his own cheeks reddening as he pressed more kisses to her cheek and neck. He couldn't help his own heavy breathing as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.
Katya began to whine as the knot in her lower belly drew tighter and tighter from Steve's frenzied touch inside … until it finally snapped, and radiant light seemed to pour from it and fill her up. She screamed with rapture, her toes curling and her back arching against Steve's hold for a timeless second until she relaxed and fell backward into his firm chest, heart pounding.
"Oh, Steve~" Katya purred, rolling over to face him and kissing his lips with languid passion.
"Oh, Katya," he rumbled back, holding her closer and returning the kiss. Then his stomach growled and he blushed in mortification. But Katya just laughed and kissed his cheek before reluctantly pushing herself off of him. "Dinner, shower, sleep," she firmly suggested.
"Yes, Dear," he chuckled.
"Children of the Isles," Lilith Clawthorne said warmly, "we are gathered before the Titan to witness the binding of these two souls in blessed matrimony."
As Lilith continued with the traditional greeting, Katya felt her eyes well with joyful tears. Her hands were held with gentle firmness by her dear Steve, who looked so handsome in his dark suit with a pink undershirt and his name embroidered in yellow at the breast pocket of his coat. His blue eyes were shining, his hair was neatly slicked back, and even his horn looked newly polished.
In her own strapless, floor-length red dress and pastel yellow sash — the colors of courage, passion, and love coupled with joy and happiness that were traditional for a Boiling Isles bride — she felt like a queen to his king, just as she would for the rest of their lives.
"Should any find fault with this union," Lilith said, "may they speak now or hold their tongue forevermore."
"I find fault!"
The crowds gasped and Katya looked in shock at the declaration. The crowds seemed oddly vague and faceless, but the figure that stepped forward was clear as a cloudless sky. A werecat demon hybrid, her hair long, pale, and silky to match her skin, with slitted caramel eyes. She wore an artfully torn suit … and a murderous scowl.
"I find fault in this farce."
"Sydany," Katya breathed in shock.
"I find fault in this," Sydany gestured up and down at Katya, "heartless whore acting like she'll actually chain herself to anyone." She sneered, her glower sharper than a scalpel. "Nah, she'll break his poor heart and skip off to the next unlucky sucker who she falls 'in love' with."
"That's not true," Katya said, her voice hoarse with hurt.
"It's what you did to me, Sweetness," Sydany said simply.
"And to me," said a large, strapping Nuckel demon, his maroon, hand-like hair hanging down over his orange eyes.
"And to me," said an effeminate male witch.
"And me," said a large Tardric demon with curling horns and long, drooping ears.
As if following a script, more and more witches and demons — every single one familiar to Katya — stood up and voiced their hatred, the room seeming to go gray as more and more stood. The faceless crowd radiated disapproval as more joined their ranks.
"Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn't like a used-up whore," Sydany jeered.
Katya realized then that her hands were cold and she looked to find Steve gone. She gasped and looked over the crowd to find them parting for him to leave. He didn't look back as he pushed open the chapel doors and left.
"Steve!" Katya cried, hiking up her dress to rush after him. The crowd of intruders didn't bother to stop her, though they rammed their elbows and shoulders into her as she rushed past. She pushed open the doors and found the ground torn up, trees knocked down, and the sky broiling with flickering storm clouds.
And Steve was nowhere in sight.
A bone-chilling childish laugh echoed across the landscape and the face of the Collector was formed in the clouds-
Katya …!
Katya woke with a start, the side of her face pressed against Steve's bare chest as tears ran down her cheeks. She held on tighter, her breathing almost frantic in the wake of the nightmare.
"Hey, hey," Steve said gently, brushing his hand through her hair. "It's alright, Katya. You're safe. You're safe. No one's gonna hurt you."
"Steve," Katya whimpered and rose up to kiss him. She poured every shred of fear and heartache she could into the contact, the ragged emotions soon replaced with warm affection for him. She kissed him harder, running the nails of one hand over his chest. Then she broke away and cupped his cheek in her hand, leaning her forehead against his own and cradling her temple against his horn.
"You wanna talk about it?" Steve asked.
"Not really," Katya whispered. Then she scoffed through her remaining tears and brushed them away. "But you deserve to know."
"You don't have to tell me," Steve said, holding her tighter.
"I know," Katya smiled. And she told him.
She told him in more detail than ever before about her very prolific lovelife, of how rarely her relationships had gone well. As much of a romantic as she was, it had left her vulnerable to heartbreak when many of her partners had left … and to those who didn't really care.
"I was with Sydany for six months, and she proposed when we were nineteen," Katya explained. "But even then, I knew something was wrong. She was … controlling. Jealous. It scared me. And when I said no, she kind of lost it and broke up with me. Called me a whore and a slut and, just … a lot of things." She laughed, quietly and bitterly. "Then I kind of retreated into my writing, which got more and more racy. That's why I got snatched up into the Conformatorium, and, well, you know the rest."
"I'm … so sorry you had to go through that," was all Steve could say, his heart aching for his lover.
"It's in the past," Katya said, though her voice was brittle. "Let's just … get some rest, huh?"
"Yeah. That sounds good." Steve kissed Katya's forehead and drew her even closer, tucking his head over hers as she burrowed against his shoulder. As they relaxed against each other and surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep …
Both of them couldn't help but think how lucky they were to have each other.
Another entry into the Stevatya smut continuity. Hope it's up to par!
*Steve's waking was inspired by and based on an early scene in "X-Men Origins: Wolverine." Given Steve's commentary on scout training, there's no doubt PTSD to spare, there.
*Severine's palisman is from "Escape of the Palisman" and is right next to Saiman.
*Steve's line, "Let's go out and make a difference" is pulled straight from Deadpool, but he's using it without a trace of irony.
*Blessed matrimony was going to be "unholy" matrimony, but I thought that sounded to negative.
*Sydany derived from "sydan" - Finnish for "heart" to contrast Katya's Russian name meaning the same.
*Nuckel is Kikimora and Osran's demon species, a respelling of "knuckle" that coincidentally brings "Nuckelavee" to mind - an Italian monster resembling a skinless horse that spreads plague.
As always, leave a review if you liked it! Hope you have a grand-tastic night!