[The Quiet One]

Universe: Human Shifter AU
Original WE Character: Belial

Au Profile: link
Moodboard: link

"Speech"
"Other's speech"

[The Quiet One]

Prompt: Shifting gone wrong...again
Timeline: Sometime before becoming an operative

In. They say early childhood is something you forget. Out. That after a certain age it vanishes. In. Even so, for most you still grow up with your parents by your side. Out. “Focus.” The sharp tones sound distant, yet there’s an answering growl rumbling within my skull. Out. Not Yet. Muscles twitch. Chains clinking. With the world obscured by darkness sounds were heightened. As the pressure steadily pressed forwards growing stronger, more demanding I was all to aware of my audience. In. Turning was hardly a pleasant experience. As far as my employers were concerned it drew in the crowds. In. I could sense my wolf growing impatient, almost shoving now against the thinning veil between us. Wait. It should have been a command, an instruction. Yet it was more of a plea then anything. With there no balance between myself and my wolf, I had no hope of commanding. My wolf was too trapped, to restricted to be inclined to listen when the moon was at its strongest. Even if it forced a turning that caused me agonising pain. I could hardly blame it. We had never had a proper family. It had never had a pack. No. The snarled response was no surprise.


“Fuck.” The curse sprung free all to easily my body convulsing as my wolf increased its efforts. Shuffling. Muttering. Out. Shoves were no longer shoves. They were rams, my wolf frantic now to break free. To overwhelm. To take control. Pain. Tearing pain. It has my body falling forwards, my weight coming to rest on my hands and knees. Bones would go soon. "Focus." The same voice has my eyes snapping open silver tinged orbs focusing on my master with a burning gaze as a snarl ripes across the space between us. The bastard doesn't even blink. The first snap is expected. It still fucking hurts. I allow the slightest of groans to escape. By the third restraint is abandoned. I could take torture, but there's was something about your own body breaking and rearranging on you. Gone is the controlled breathing, each inhale laboured as I clung to consciousness. With one final shove came blinding pain and ringing sound of my own scream before I tipped over into oblivion.


Crimson was the first thing to greet me when I cam back around. Pools of it. Spray across the one way reinforced glass. A glimpse of boots as someone was dragged out of the room. "You failed. Again." No shit. Gingerly I push myself up into a sitting position, suppressing the wince that itched to break free as my body protested. The iron tang in my mouth has my head turning slightly, before crimson lands on the floor. "He will not listen if you keep him caged." Answering back was risky. Punishment was possible. There's a beat. Then two. Then the slow sound of measured footsteps. I do not lift my gaze, I do not dare, but it drifts when shoes appear in the corner of my vision. They stop before me. "You were taught better. Cold tones. Harsh tones. They brooked no argument, a silent warning within them that if I protested there would be consequences. So I bite my tongue, iron once more blooming across my tastebuds. There's silence, the seconds dragging on almost painfully until it is interrupted by the soft thump of clothes hitting the floor. "Get dressed and get to the infirmary. We'll carry this conversation in later." There was no waiting for my response, only the sound of swift footsteps as my master left my naked form behind. He most likely had investors to reassure. Slowly I get dressed, muscles protesting with each movement. It was an ache that seemed to settle in my bones. I healed much faster than I should, yet even so the violent shifts seemed to leave some side affects. Tentatively I reach out within my consciousness, cautiously prodding at the veil that had reformed. There was nothing. My wolf was silent. It was worrying.

What had they done?

"Speech"
"Other's speech"

[The Quiet One]

Prompt: An undercover mission with some unexpected twists
Timeline: Approaching his 6th year of service while undercover in a relationship with Amelia who is the daughter of a target

Love. What was love? How could someone become the center of another's universe? How could one be consumed so thoroughly by it? I had never understood it. Never felt it. I had seen it, but had always been left baffled by it. It seemed so alien. It was a product of my upbringing and something I had always had little care in experiencing myself. Yet, something had shifted of late. It was not my first undercover rodeo. It was not the first time I had been subjected to getting involved in a fake relationship as per my orders. Sometimes it was necessary to obtain intel, to get close to an eventual target so they could be nuetralised. This one was proving to be…different. “Enzo?” The sweet, softly spoken tones draw me from my thoughts. Instinctively my dark gaze drifts a warm smile falling into place as I take in the beauty before me. Amelia. She was a dainty thing, crown full of luscious dirty blonde hued locks. Earthy and forest green hued orbs sparkled with a now familiar warmth. Something flutters within.

“Yes sweetheart?” The warm, velvety tones come naturally a hand raising to beckon her closer. Inviting. She pads closer, bare feet almost silently traversing towards where I’m lazing on her sofa. I do not bother hiding the appreciation from my gaze as I take in the sight of her. My disregarded shirt from last night barely covers her knees causing temptation to stir. Now is not the time. Within reach I snake an arm around her waist, suddenly pulling her onto my lap gentle yet with enough abruptness to draw a surprised yelp from her. There’s a chuckle rumbling my chest as she settles in place shooting a half hearted glare at me in the process. I merely offer a cheeky grin in return. “Jerk.” There’s no venom in it. No bite. Only a comfortable playfulness. “You love it really.” It’s all too easy to tease, my tones murmured as I lean forward to skim no nose along her jawline before teeth nip lightly at her neck.

There’s the slightest content sigh in response, fingers playing with the small hairs at the back of my nape. Her warmth sinks into me, seemingly into my very bones as there’s that stir again. My chest felt almost too full, warmth radiating through my limbs as the second passed by. What was love? Was it this? Subconsciously I draw her closer head raising so I can press my lips to her temple as I wait for her to answer my previous question. Her hesitancy was unusual. “Amelia?” After a while I allow the questioning tones to creep free a tenderness to the soft, velvety tones as I do so. Shifting just enough to see her face I allow concern to shine through, a faint frown forming has she keep her gaze averted. Fingers reach lightly brushing and then cradling her cheek as the silence returns. The warmth of of her hands shift, abandoning the back of my nape to slowly trail over my shoulders. “I’m pregnant.” Her admittance has me freezing. Every muscle locking in place as the breathe is robbed from my lungs. Pregnant? How? I shouldn't be able to get her pregnant? Surely a measure would have been put in place to avoid it?

“Enzo?” Worry. It has me breaking from my thoughts. The desire to soothe overwhelming my sense as I offer Amelia a reassuring smile, thumb rubbing a gentle circle across her stomach. "It's okay. It's just a surprise." It wasn't okay. Not really, but I do not allow my worry to creep into my voice. The sensible thing to do would be to convince her to get rid of the child. Something protested at the thought. Yet the thought of it the danger keeping it would put her in was terrifying in itself. My employers couldn't find out. Which meant I couldn't get out of my obligations. I'd end up breaking her heart, leaving her to raise the child on her own if she wished to keep it. The thought of the inevitable has my throat clogging, heart contracting painfully as I watch her. Savour her. All while keeping the turmoil hidden. Finally she meets my gaze, the hesitancy still echoing within the depths of her eyes. Yet some light has returned to them forcing the icy grip on my heart to lessen slightly. "I'm not sure if I want to keep it or not."

"Whatever you decide I'll support you sweetheart." The reassurance is swift, finger cupping her cheek gently once more as I wrap her around the warmth of my tones. Loving tones. Declarations of love had come before, and yet this time it sat heavier upon the tip of my tongue. Waiting to be released. Itching to break free. Almost as if I was teetering on a precipice there would be no return from. It was only a matter of time before I destroyed her, before I left her heart shattered in a million pieces. Could I risk my own too?


"Speech"
"Other's speech"