Characters: Rose of Sharron Cassidy, Gloria van Graff, Jean-Baptiste Cutting, F!Courier Pairings: Cass/Gloria van Graff Relationship: Femslash Kinks: Rough sex, dub-con, oral, fingering, possible strap-on, sub/dom, violence, water/breathplay, and possibly more. Summary. F!Courier hands Cass over to the van Graffs and leaves her for dead. Gloria has other plans.
She wasn't scared. Fear was an overrated emotion, one that was so prominent in her system during early adulthood, that it hardly had an effect anymore. It was on those rare occasions where she felt that, truly, she was going to die, did she ever fear for her life. Even then, it probably affected her less than it should. That didn't mean it stopped her from thinking about it, though. Thoughts of death and how she would die buzzed around her mind on a fairly frequent basis. Hell, there were even times where she wanted, to die -welcomed it- and she never got what she wanted. Nowadays, she only wished to not die in a pathetic way, like choking to death on an ice cube when she took a shot of whiskey too fast. But, if she knew anything right now, it was that she was definitely not afraid.
Then what were these emotions that ran amuck in her system? Cass rattlered her thoughts to look for an anwer, something that could accurately describe her feelings.
There was anger, that was for certain. It almost didn't come as a surprise anymore. The feeling of anger was something that came to her so often. There was another thing. Hurt, and a feeling of utter betrayal. But why would she be feeling these? The answer was given by a sharp tug of her shirt collar.
Her eyes darted back to the present. It was the Courier, dragging her behind like she was some worn out toy. The emotions ran through her once more. Why was she doing this? The girl seemed nice enough; charming, and even had an attractive air about her. They also seemed to have gotten well over the couple of days they traveled together. She figured that was a lie.
Her hands were tied behind her back. She was also gagged, but the Courier did a shit job at that. Cass managed to spit out the dusty bandana that was shoved in her mouth, and vocalised her complaint.
"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, making a feeble attempt to pull free from the knots around her hands. What a useless gesture.
"Shut the fuck up," the Courier snapped, giving the collar of her shirt another tug. She snorted. So much for charming.
The pair walked a while longer through the miserable Freeside streets. Bums and drunks littered the alleyways, mumbling incoherent slurs to one another and picking fights. There were also children running after a giant rat. They must have been staving. Cass pitied them, the poor things.
Caught in her own thoughts of sympathy, she almost ran into her kidnapper, who responded with an elbow in the older woman's stomach. Cass growled.
Yeah, definitely not charming.
Her scorn was interrupted with the Courier's utterance.
"Look bright. We're here."
Cass looked up, almost wanting to ignore her instructions. Immmediately, her stomach knotted as she read the building's sign:
Shades of Black and Blue - 1/?
Pairings: Cass/Gloria van Graff
Relationship: Femslash
Kinks: Rough sex, dub-con, oral, fingering, possible strap-on, sub/dom, violence, water/breathplay, and possibly more.
Summary. F!Courier hands Cass over to the van Graffs and leaves her for dead. Gloria has other plans.
She wasn't scared. Fear was an overrated emotion, one that was so prominent in her system during early adulthood, that it hardly had an effect anymore. It was on those rare occasions where she felt that, truly, she was going to die, did she ever fear for her life. Even then, it probably affected her less than it should. That didn't mean it stopped her from thinking about it, though. Thoughts of death and how she would die buzzed around her mind on a fairly frequent basis. Hell, there were even times where she wanted, to die -welcomed it- and she never got what she wanted. Nowadays, she only wished to not die in a pathetic way, like choking to death on an ice cube when she took a shot of whiskey too fast. But, if she knew anything right now, it was that she was definitely not afraid.
Then what were these emotions that ran amuck in her system? Cass rattlered her thoughts to look for an anwer, something that could accurately describe her feelings.
There was anger, that was for certain. It almost didn't come as a surprise anymore. The feeling of anger was something that came to her so often. There was another thing. Hurt, and a feeling of utter betrayal. But why would she be feeling these? The answer was given by a sharp tug of her shirt collar.
Her eyes darted back to the present. It was the Courier, dragging her behind like she was some worn out toy. The emotions ran through her once more. Why was she doing this? The girl seemed nice enough; charming, and even had an attractive air about her. They also seemed to have gotten well over the couple of days they traveled together. She figured that was a lie.
Her hands were tied behind her back. She was also gagged, but the Courier did a shit job at that. Cass managed to spit out the dusty bandana that was shoved in her mouth, and vocalised her complaint.
"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, making a feeble attempt to pull free from the knots around her hands. What a useless gesture.
"Shut the fuck up," the Courier snapped, giving the collar of her shirt another tug. She snorted. So much for charming.
The pair walked a while longer through the miserable Freeside streets. Bums and drunks littered the alleyways, mumbling incoherent slurs to one another and picking fights. There were also children running after a giant rat. They must have been staving. Cass pitied them, the poor things.
Caught in her own thoughts of sympathy, she almost ran into her kidnapper, who responded with an elbow in the older woman's stomach. Cass growled.
Yeah, definitely not charming.
Her scorn was interrupted with the Courier's utterance.
"Look bright. We're here."
Cass looked up, almost wanting to ignore her instructions. Immmediately, her stomach knotted as she read the building's sign:
The Silver Rush.