Power and Control

written by Duke Aster Williams

Author was half awake when writing the second half of this…so apologies in advance.

Trigger Warning: Blood (menstruation). Implications of Stockholm syndrome.

the Scent of Iron

It had been a day or so since the night of blood. The stress of their relationship had been released and things had started to simmer down. A new routine had fallen into place, one where the Devil had become more prominent in her life. Before she had rarely interacted with him during her months of captivity. It was only during their relocations that she ever his haunting mask, and now it was the only thing she could look at. The Devil had become the center of her world, everything started to revolve around him. She was tethered by a rope, walking close behind him but she found herself being drawn close to him. The rope around her wrists were lax and loose. Weiss felt safe under his gaze, walking right beside him and staying close by his side.

After the events of that cursed day, she started to see the softer side of the Devil. He had yet to put the collar back onto her neck permanently. The only time he did put it back on was the day she had attacked him, a warning of why he had given her the luxury of having it off. As soon as he had recollared her, the aura that were mending her wounds automatically triggered the collar to activate. It was painful, suffocating her once more and damaging her neck once again. He watched her grovel on the ground before taking it off. The Devil had warned her again, and she took his words to heart. Weiss knew that the Devil wouldn't hesitate to put that collar on her again. No. She just didn't want to test her luck.

But even with the soreness of her neck dying down and the tenderness disappearing, Weiss saw how things had changed. The ropes around her wrists had loosened, allowing her more mobility. He was concerned about the wounds on her neck; checking them every night to look for any infections. She secretly loved the attention, the way he was so gentle with her. The feeling of his gloves against her neck, the way he looked at her through the cloth around his eyes. She found herself sitting closer and closer to him during their breaks – and she noticed how he didn't move away from her. They were bonding, he was starting to warm up to her. He was beginning to trust her. She could escape if she wanted-NO.

No.

She knew that he'd hurt her again. Weiss knew if she tried to escape again, he would surely kill her. He warned her. He told her he'd put that collar back on her neck and watch her die. Her body stiffened at the mere thought of it suffocating her again. She didn't want to die like that. She didn't want to die an agonizing death. Her breath quickened as she forced herself to take deep breaths. She reminded herself as long as she behaved he wouldn't do anything. He had yet to hurt her again. There was no reason to run away anyways. The Devil was giving her everything she needed to survive: food, water, warmth, attention. He gave her all of that, and she didn't need to lift a finger. As long as she was a good girl, he didn't harm a hair on her head.

Weiss kept her gaze at the ground, as usual, as they walked. She tried to dismiss her inner torment, telling herself that she was thinking too much. And that's what she hated about all of this, she had too much time to think. Early on she had learned her mind was her own worst enemy, plaguing her dreams with nightmares that were more terrifying than real life. But she knew that if she dared try to speak with the Devil, it would be a one sided conversation. She had tried so hours ago, trying to make small talk, but he responded with short answers and nothing to contribute. Weiss was on to speak her mind, she was raised to let others do the talking and hold the power to dismiss others. Schnees were not beggers, they did not seek out help, help came to them.

Besides, she much preferred the night. It was the time she could stare up at the sky and let her thoughts fill up with curiosity of the universe. Night was the time of rest, where she could let her aching feet and legs recover. And…she was able to sleep with the company of someone else. For once in her life she could feel warmth and comfort. The past few months she was forced to sleep alone. The last decade of her life she was forced to sleep alone in her icy prison. And now, in this disgusting forest, she was sharing body heat with the Devil himself. He allowed her to feel warmth and peace. Serenity.

It was what she thought home should feel like. It was what she hoped her home was.

And as bad as it sounded, Weiss couldn't help but let her fantasies drift off. Parts of her couldn't help but wish to stay in the forest forever with the Devil. Where she had no expectations. She had someone to protect her. She was bound with someone who wasn't intimidated by her nor was just after her status as a Schnee. For all of her life, Weiss had been surrounded by people wanting to have a share of her wealth, the perks of being friends of a Schnee. As she grew up, she saw how men lusted after her. She was beautiful, elegant, rich…a woman idolized by men where they tried every trick in the book to catch her attention. Her sister had prepared her for this fate, she taught her how to keep her dignity. And that was something Weiss idolized about her sister. Her sister was stunning, icy cold and dignified who could turn down men with a glance of her eyes. Weiss wanted to be like that, she tried to be like that…but boys kept coming.

But of course, the one boy that had caught her eye was a man who did just the opposite. It sounded like a highschool love drama, how the most popular girl in school falls for the one boy who doesn't give a care in the world about her. Weiss remembers how she couldn't understand why any woman would chase after a man who didn't put in the effort. That was until she saw the face of the Devil, staring down at her with his damaged face and behind him was a macabre scene of a horror film. He was her nightmare; he was her savior. He was an angel and a demon. But most importantly, he was the opposite of everything she knew about boys.

The day they first met, he had threatened her. He told her that he wanted to tear her apart, that his men wanted to devour her, that he wanted to hurt her. Both knew that the Devil was fully capable of doing whatever he wanted to her. Both knew that he could violate her right here and now, use her as some toy to chew on. Yet he didn't. He had yet to lay a finger on her in that way. And there were plenty of times that he could have taken advantage of her. And furthermore, he was more mature than the other boys.

Her eyes shifted to the ground. A part of her wished the Devil were a bit disgusted or interested in her. They had been far too intimate with one another already. He had seen parts of her that were too embarrassing to even describe. Weiss could feel a blush creep up on her face as she was reminded of the piece of cloth between her legs. Her steps started to slow down before she came to a complete stop. Lips pressed together, trying not to quiver as she could feel things start to leek out. Horror was crawling up her face.

The tension of the rope was always the first signal that she had stopped. Things were playing out like they always did, a new step in their routine. And as such, it wasn't long before she heard his feet turn towards her. Weiss felt those eyes look her up and down, he was analyzing the situation. Cold. Calculating. That was what she learned when he had time to think. The Devil would walk towards her, fishing out one of the strips of cloth they were using to soak up the mess. Weiss bit the inside of her lip as she rubbed her thumbs together.

"You wanna do it, or do you want me to?" he asked.

Her eyes were set on the ground, not daring to look up at him. Ever since they woke up to a pool of blood underneath her, she couldn't dare look him in the face. She was humiliated that this kind of thing had happened while they were locked together. It was bad enough weeks ago that it happened, but the female faunus always allowed her to do things herself. But now, they didn't have the luxury of privacy. And he didn't come prepared for it…and since he was handing out everything to her…

She knew every part of her body wanted to do this herself, like she always had. And earlier that morning, when it first started, she did. Oh god knows how quickly she took the strips of cloth and made sure his back was turned when she did it. And things were fine, the Devil was rather…mature about the situation. Her fears of the Devil screaming at her, beating her, or just turning wild because of something so- so disgusting happened never came. She half expected him to puke because boys were so squeamish about the subject, yet, he didn't. Instead he had given her the option of letting her do it herself. Keep her dignity. And she would have continued to do so…if he wasn't…wasn't so…so adamant on…collecting the soiled cloth afterwards. It was disgusting. Sickening. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"…you…" Weiss said meekly, barely above a whisper as she shifted her weight.

She turned her back towards him, walking over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. Weiss couldn't face him, not during something like this. The blush on her cheeks were making her face sore as she knew how inappropriate and lewd this whole scene was. Parts of her were screaming to tell him that she changed her mind, that she'd do it herself. But she remembered how he held out his hand, waiting for her to drop the soiled cotton into it. How stoic his face was, how he didn't seemed bothered by anything. And she remembered how she dared to see if he was getting off on all of this. And she remembered how she realized that only she was getting all worked up over it.

"Stay still," he said.

The Devil was a gentle creature at heart, and his touch was warm and inviting against her lower back. He was trying to sooth her, calm her from her own embarrassment. His thumb stroked her skin through the fabric, his voice guiding her through what he was doing. A part of her disliked how he had to vocalize every single step, as if that was going to calm her down. No. It was more embarrassing to hear him articulate his movements. And she hated how she actually wished that he would fill the air with more words instead of leaving them in silence.

"I'm removing these."

His hands moved, pushing up the ends of the shirt she was wearing. It was one of his and it barely reached her mid-thighs, and of course, she just had her panties. Weiss pressed her lips together as she leaned further against the tree. She wanted to hide away, she wanted to merge with the tree and disappear into the world. She wanted him to seize her hips and drag her back, to tell her to stay put. She felt him loop his fingers around the sides, he could easily drag her back to reality.

I'm going to devour you now, Princess.

Weiss stiffened as her mind was playing tricks on her. It was agonizing, how he was drawing everything out. How she could feel everything that was happening. Her legs were shaking. Nothing about this was sexual at all. Nothing. It was humiliating. Disgusting. Wrong. She closed her eyes, trying not to concentrate on the fact that he could see everything. No. She could still feel his eyes on her, looking at her like she was his prey. He was going to eat her, destroy her, turn her into shreds. His fingers were already ripping her-

"Come," his voice halted her thoughts.

And it was over. Within a flash and before she actually wanted it to be over. The cold air brushed against her skin as she felt so small against the tree. Her face was flustering, her cheeks ached from the tension. She hastily tried to cover herself up, pulling down the shirt as she shifted her legs. They felt cold, naked, against the breeze. But her eyes drifted over to the Devil. He was placing the folded cotton that held all the soiled ones into the small bag he was carrying. She took the chance to glance down, daring to make sure this wasn't a sick kink of his. And of course, he wasn't. How could he. Why would anyone get off by violating her like this…the burn on her cheeks still hurt. Weiss hung her head low as she felt the rope be yanked. She wanted to hide her guilt as they continued their travels.

His nose stung from the scent of blood that was smeared on his hands. The metallic scent was stuck in his nose to the point that he could taste it on his tongue. It was intertwining with the beads of sweat dripping down to the corners of his lips. The earthy scents, the sun beating down on them, and the endless road they were walking. It was all too familiar. And he wanted it to end. He wanted to escape.

Adam looked up at the sky, looking at the clock. The sun was a few hours from setting and he would need to seek shelter and food quickly. Eyes casted over towards the beast he had on a leash. Obedience. Docile. It was behaving well: staying quite and wasn't causing trouble. And dare say it was starting to show signs of affection. Adam's eyes narrowed. He was all too aware of the signs, this was nothing new. People ended up falling for him one way or another, be it out of awe or fear, it was all the same. They had that same look, the primitive look of lust. And he knew the beast was keeping its eyes on him, even when it wasn't looking at him. It was the small things, how when he stopped it would stop right up next to him. It was how it pressed itself up against his back and how it sought out his presence when he rested for the night.

His lips curled down as he set down his pack, recalling their new sleeping arrangements. It had started to warm up to him, far too much to his liking. He was a lone wolf…bull…forever alone and yet misfortune loved throwing obstacles in his way. Hands moved to tie the beast to a tree, keeping its hands above its head and feet barely touching the ground. It wouldn't run away, it couldn't run away. Not when his eyes always kept an eye on it.

"Stay," he ordered it after testing the ropes to make sure it didn't disappear.

It wouldn't take long, he was efficient when it came to fishing. His partner…his ex-partner had an uncanny obsession with that sort of food. And as such, he found himself learning how to fish with anything he could get his hands on. Yet, as he kept a sharp eye out for anything he could spear with his blade, he kept his eyes on his tied up prisoner. He wasn't a fool and wouldn't dare let his guard down. It was a Schnee. Granted, a weak willed one, but still an icy demon that will do anything to get what it wants. And if that thing was freedom, Adam knew that even a caged animal would use any opportunity to escape the moment it knew it could. So his eyes always glanced back at the dangling body, making sure it stayed put, making sure it knew he was always watching.

And things were uneventful. Everything played out the same way as it did the previous day. Food was caught and sitting out the cook. Icy blue eyes kept eyes on him as he wringed out the blood from the strips of cloth before setting them out to dry by the fire. It would take all night for them to get dry and the scent of iron would definitely stick on his clothes. And the Schnee hound dogs would surely pick up the trail if they didn't make it to the safe house in the town soon. Lady luck like throwing everything that could go wrong at him and watching him suffer. Lips turned into a frown as he released the beast from its confinement and they ate, together. Sunset would hit and he'd stomp out the fire. Everything was within their new routine, right down to the way he allowed it to curl up next to him.

Body heat, warmth, it was something that they both needed. Something that he allowed to happen because it felt…natural. Eyes would cast up as he stared at the moon, his hand would reach out to grip his sheathed blade, rubbing the smooth metallic texture with his thumb. It was all too familiar. This scene in front of him. The shattered moon above him illuminated the forest around him, letting him see clearly. And it was only then did he realize that misfortune was snickering in his dismay.

They say that a semblance is a manifestation of one's personality, their being, who they are. And how it can consume their life, becoming the definition of their being. It was an extension of themselves, of how they view themselves, of how the world sees them. And looking up at the moon, Adam is reminded once again of what he is. His body shuttered as he breathed everything in, accepting what misfortune has laid out for him that night. The sense of familiarity, the sense of home, of security and safety. The sense of something he had missed for a long long time filled himself.

He, for a moment, allowed himself to bask in the warmth, to allow his chest to ache with the pain that he had missed. But that was it. Just a single moment. And with a soft exhale, he breathed out that misery and allowed himself to look in the mirror. Lady luck always liked to torment him like this. Showing him shattered pieces of the past, trapping him in a room full of mirrors and showing him every mistake, he has made. But like the moon reflected the sun's warm rays, it was but a façade and pales in comparison to the real thing.

The scent of iron filled his nose, intoxicating him like that night long long ago. His hands were coated with blood that he couldn't scrub off and the weight of everything going wrong was place once again on his shoulders. Eyes drifted down to the beast next to him to capture those icy blue eyes. He knew that look immediately, the way those lips were part ever so slightly and the intensity of those eyes. Adam was ever so familiar with that look, and he always hated it. His stomach wanted to flip itself over, but he couldn't move his eyes away from its gaze. In his head he was telling himself to move, to stop it, to not let it happen again. Never again. He couldn't. He had to stop it from repeating once again.

"Sleep," a voice hissed through their teeth.

It broke Adam's thoughts and brought him back to the world. That voice managed to break him out of the mirror and stop everything from repeating itself. Eyes widened behind the blindfold as he felt sweat drip from the back of his neck and down to the ground. His breathing was heavy, and it was only then he realized that he had been holding his breath that whole time. Fingers raked against the soil before he pushed himself off the ground. Adam threaded fingers through his hair, pushing the locks back as he rubbed the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and put his head between his knees. Reflections of the past, being shown to him repeatedly in different ways shapes and forms. He hated it.

Due to FF's policy to keep explicit content off their website. There is a NSFW chapter that is featured on AO3. This chapter is not necessary to read, but it is there for those interested. Details are as followed.

NSFW chapter will contain underaged sex, as Weiss is 17 and Adam is 23, and is skippable. If you choose to skip, please note that the chapter is all just a wet dream and Adam did not do anything with Weiss. Author is just a sick f***.

LINK At: works / 24551443 / chapters / 59286733