sxrvxver:

morta-watson:

Morta leaned into his hand, her arms around his neck. “You deserve all the goodness in the world, darling.” Feeling the limbs around her and the heat of his touch made everything alright again. “All of it and more.” Her hand was on his cheek, a big smile growing on her lips.

He was putty in her hands. Everything she said made him want to melt. “..you are so kind,” Nova felt the need to remind her as he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on the end of her nose. She smelled like blood and sweat, but not in the way he did. The smell was at home in him. It didn’t suit the small woman at all.

Morta leaned into his hand, her arms around his neck. “You deserve all the goodness in the world, darling.” Feeling the limbs around her and the heat of his touch made everything alright again. “All of it and more.” Her hand was on his cheek, a big smile growing on her lips.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders every time she said that. He was always nervous, always worried that she would grow tired of his flaws and leave him..and he felt horrible let for thinking that. Morta wasn’t a liar. She was honest and kind and pure and perfect. There was nothing about her that he hated and there never could be. With a sigh the large man moved to sit up though he didn’t move away, he just felt the need the stretch his constantly aching back. “You are so good to me,” Nova spoke as softly as he could manage despite his now hoarse voice. His hand found her cheek and his metal limbs snaked up around her.

Morta nodded, her arms stretching over his chest. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I want you the way you are. You have never hurt me because you wanted to hurt me. I couldn’t be happier with anyone else, and I couldn’t be safer, either. You always protect me, you care about me... I just want you to know that I will always be here with you. Always.” She brushed his fingers away with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t bother much, darling. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Her skin against his, he calmed even further. “..I always believe you..you are all that I believe.” And there was nothing closer to the truth. Morta was all he had and all he ever wanted. There was nothing more he cared for. “..I am sorry for..for how I am, for what I have done,” he mumbled, softly resting a finger on one of the larger bruises on her collar bone. “You are all I have..I do not want to hurt you. I want you to be happy and safe.”

She just stroked his hair back and held him, letting him think, letting him breathe, letting him descend from the Rage high. When, finally, he spoke, she bent over him again to kiss his cheek. “I’m not afraid, Nova,” she told him. “And I’ve seen what you can do. I am not afraid.” Her cheek was pressed to his. “I know that you don’t want to hurt me. If I get hurt, it’s okay. I promise, Nova, I promise that it’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t you believe me?”

They were free. Physically. Not mentally. The Pit still had a tight hold on Nova's mind..the Masters would never truly let him go and he knew that all too well. But Morta still wanted him, still held him close and wiped at his tears. How many times would he have to bleed on her to make her leave him? "..I am sorry," Nova mumbled, his body shuddering as he scooted closer to the small woman, burying his face in her lap as he tried so desperately to calm himself down. Overreacting wasn't going to help him at all. It took almost an hour but the large man's breathing finally evened out but he didn't move from his spot. "..I want to stay with you," he whispered. "I do not want to leave..I am...afraid of what I might do to you."

Her heart broke to hear him say that, and new tears welled up in her eyes as he touched over his bruises. Nova was a smart man. He knew, as much as she tried to hide it from him. “Nova,” she whispered, voice breaking halfway through, a slipped step down on his name. “Please...” She shook her head, her hand over his, stilling it, while the other wiped at her tears. “I need you, Nova, please... Please, never leave me.” He believed he was needy of her, but if that was so then she was the same of him. She needed him. He was all that she had left in the world. Everything she had came to her because of him. If he left her, she would have nothing more than a shattered heart and a lost will to live. “And you... You can’t go back there. They... They hurt you.” They broke him. “Things are better here. We’re free, remember? We are free.” She moved his hands from her bruises. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. We’re here for each other.” She pressed her forehead to his, shoulders shaking. “You’re everything to me, Nova. Everything. The only better for me in this world is you. I promise it.”

He tried to be strong for her, tried so hard even on these days. Nova would try to be calm and still..but it never worked. He was terrified and hurt and confused..nothing in his mind made sense and he hated it. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why couldn't he be strong..be sane for Morta? She didn't deserve this. The sweet, innocent girl didn't need to deal with the chaos that ensued when he was around. He wasn't sane, not even close..but she still wanted to be around him, to be WITH him. The gladiator would never know why. Sometimes he wondered if he should go back to the Pit. Would Morta be better off if he did..? "..you would be better off if I was still there," he mumbled quietly through the pained breaths and tears. His hands found her bruised skin and lightly brushed over it. He knew what he'd done to her..

She let him cry. Always, she always let him cry. There was no need to make him bottle up any of his oceans of pain, and never would Morta say, “Don’t cry,” and never would she wipe away his tears. Instead, she would hold him, bend and kiss his forehead, she would run her fingers through his hair, and murmur the little things she hoped would soothe some of his inward pain.

After the first few Days, Morta had begun to carry tissues, or something along the lines of tissues, with her, just in case. They were to blot away sweat and blood, for him to blow his nose if he wanted to. Crying wasn’t a pretty picture, but Morta didn’t need pretty pictures to make her happy. All she needed was him. Bent over, her face above his, her hair hiding them both, she gave him a small, tearful smile.

“If I leave, I’ll always come back.” she assured him. “I have to be safe for both of us.” Again, she kissed his forehead, and against the skin there she murmured. “But, don’t feel back. It’s okay to have these days.” And, it was okay. He needed them, needed to break a little in order to heal a bit more properly. Even if he never healed, if there would always be Rager Days, Morta would stay, she would always be there for him when he came to. She would help him as best she could for as long as she lived.

Morta, as small as she was and with as little as she had to give, would die for Nova. She would give her life without second thought and without regret if that was what he needed. But, so much more importantly, Morta lived for Nova. Her heartbeat and breath were for him, her time alive dedicated to his cause. She was his, entirely. What they had was a love tested by the cruelest means, and the result was a bond fiercer, sweeter, more passionate than other loves. Morta held Nova, slowly helping him up to lean against her.

His weight always felt heavier after a Rager Day, perhaps because he carried less of it when there was another to share it with, or perhaps because she had been cooped up for hours and anything heavy was bound to feel heavier. Or, it might be because the bruises that he could not see, that she had to work hard to give no hint of, made doing simple things a little bit more difficult. But, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except making sure that Nova, her Nova, would be okay.

He rarely remembered his days like this. The scarred man barely knew that there were days, always random never in any sort of schedule, that he would snap. The things he'd seen and done in the Pit broke him, but what was done to him by the Masters made his mind unrepareable..especially after his forced Rage addiction. It had made him strong, nearly invincible, but the lasting side effects made it too obvious just how far gone he was. No amount of therapy would calm the former gladiator's disturbed and shattered mind. He was always loud on his rage days, screaming and snarling and breaking everything in his path. Anger and rage poured through his body and controlled him, clouded his mind as he didn't think, he only acted. There was always damage to whatever shack they'd managed to find after one of his days..sometimes he'd remember doing it but most of the time he'd question Morta about it. Morta..his only redeeming factor, the only good in his sad excuse for an existence. She hid from him and he was glad she did..until his raging episodes were over. The large man always panicked, afraid that he'd scared her off..or hurt her. He couldn't lose her, she was the only thing keeping him calm..keeping him alive. This particular episode lasted much longer than it normally did, resulting in damage to the shack as well as his own body. Nova would slam into walls, tear at his own skin, snarl and bite and scream and curse in multilevel languages..if anyone made the mistake of coming into their small residence while he was in that state there'd be nothing left of them. But no one did and the rage day had neared it's end. The large man had dropped to the floor, exhaustion and worry controlling his body. He hurt all over, the bruises and blood being nothing compared to what was going on in his mind. Only when he felt soft, cool hands on his face and in his hair did his tense body relax and tears began to stream down his face. Morta was here..she hadn't left him..for some unknown reason she didn't want to leave him, she wanted to be with him. Nova tilted his head to look up at her, his dull grey eyes watery and hazy. He was still confused, still hurt, but he wasn't angry. "..I..I was afraid that you had left," the scarred man whispered weakly.

Rager Days

She could hear him. He was all that she could hear. She remembered the times when he called himself a monster, long before their escape, and still after they were safe. She had only seen him fight once, but that had been from afar and in a situation where the gore was nothing in comparison to the pain of what she thought was to come. He had come after her once, but that was different. That never struck her as monstrous: only desperate. Morta had never, ever, seen Nova as a monster. It was not that she couldn’t love a monster, but that he simply was not one. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. However, on days like this, the thought would creep into her mind.

She cried in a new hiding place every time, holding herself tight, keeping quiet as she could. If he heard her, he would kill her. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. There were no townspeople to save her anymore. The Masters had killed them a long time ago, and now Nova and Morta were alone. Usually, their isolation meant little. Nova preferred it, and Morta was adjusting. There was another town a few days away, but they’d only been once. She didn’t mind being alone with him... Except on what she had come to called his Rager Days. They were the days when Nova grew violent, became mindless, turned into the Rage drug addict he had been in the Pit.

The effects of the pill still coursed through him, and they built up and then the exploded out. There wasn’t a warning, there wasn’t a trigger. It just happened. He usually didn’t remember much of it when he came to, and Morta was always glad for it. More than once, she hadn’t gotten away from a fist or a hand or, worst of all, a tentacle fast enough. It had never been bad, and not yet been dealt to her face, but if he knew... Morta didn’t want him to know. He never needed to know. She was safe, if not a little worse for wear sometimes, and that she lived to be there to hold him afterward was all that mattered to Morta. She loved him. She loved him always, entirely, wholly, with everything she had and probably with things that were not quite hers. She loved him, no matter what.

Ripping and tearing and yelling and screaming, sounds that Morta had never before associated Nova with while they were in the Pit together, were ringing in her ears. His Rager Days were days of violence, of all the hatefulness he had bee through and survived. Not all of his scars were borne on his outside; more and more revealed themselves to be buried within. It was hours in, more than she could count on both her hands. She ached, was hungry and thirsty, but Morta wouldn’t let herself complain. What Nova went through was so much worse, and this time sounded worse than the most recent few proceeding.

More hours than that passed before complete quiet settled over the house. Though she hated to do it, Morta always waited in that silence before emerging. She had to keep herself safe for Nova’s sake. When it did finally seem safe, Morta slipped from her hiding place, a tiny nook of a crawlspace above an upstairs hallway. She tip-toed downstairs, looking for Nova. He could be anywhere, in any state. She would never say it out loud, but she was always afraid that he would still be Raging when she came looking for him. The soft moan she heard nearby caused the hairs on her arms and legs and the back of her neck to rise up, and she went cold. But, warm relief flooded quick through her and she flew quicksilver to where she now knew him to be.

He was hurt, as he always was after his Day. He was hurt in so many ways, inside and out. “Nova, darling, oh,” She was kneeling beside him, reaching to smooth his hair back. “Destek...” She wanted him to know that she was there, she had not left. It didn’t hurt anymore that he thought she would leave him. She understood his worries, even though she knew that she would never leave. “Here we are, darling, here we go.” She brought his head to her lap, trying to smile down at him, to show him that everything would be okay. After all, it would be. It had to be.

Morta nuzzled his hand, her eyes saying love and her hands touching with love, too. She bent down again, placing another kiss on the head, and on down the shaft with more kisses, then back up. Again, she took the head into her mouth, and again she tried to go further down. There was no roughness, no rush, only her attempts to bring him the pleasure he’d so long been denied. Already her jaw ached, but that wouldn’t stop her. She worked as best as she could with her tongue and her hands, hoping that it felt as good to him as he deserved.

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She smiled at him and nodded. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” she asked again. “Promise?” She’d already asked, but she needed to know, for sure. If she hurt him, especially in this situation, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. Her eyes searched his, her hands around him but no longer moving.

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She wasn’t very steady, or very skilled, but she was trying. The sounds and movements he made led her to believe that she was doing alright. Morta tried to go further down, but her jaw wouldn’t open any wider; she worried her teeth would scrape him. Slowly, she lifted her mouth off of him, looking up at him with wide eyes. The pads of her fingers trailed up and down still as she bit her lip. She thought that everything was going fine, aside from her inexperience and inability, but thinking and knowing were too different for her to trust in. “Everything’s okay?” she whispered, her cheeks red and her demeanor soft.

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He was bigger than expected. Worryingly so. Even as she encircled him with her hands, Morta couldn’t imagine them going any further than this. In her mind, it wasn’t a worry over protection against pregnancy: it was a question of whether he’d fit inside her at all. But, she couldn’t focus on that. As her surprise began to ebb away, she took a deep breath, smiled, and bent to kiss the glans. Her hands moved slowly up and down the length of him as she began her attempts to fit what she could in the confines of her mouth. She’d never given a handjob or a blowjob before, and was working on what basic little she knew from Sex Ed. All she knew for sure was that she needed to be gentle and slow, and to make sure that he felt good.

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She smiled, both hands coming to rest on his hips. “If you want me to stop, tell me, alright? It’s okay if you want me to stop.” Morta moved to kneel in front of him, biting her lip as she looked down at the bulge in his pants. She’d never done anything like what she had in mind, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. She wanted Nova to feel good, as good as possible. So, gently, pulling them away, she undid his pants and began to slide them down, her cheeks already flushed with nervousness and excitement.

It was odd, new..but not terrible to think that Morta wanted to help him. She always wanted to help..and who was he to deny her what she wanted? The small woman was a higher power, almost a god in his eyes. He had no right to object..especially since in the back of his mind, he wanted it too. “..if..if you want to, destek,” he finally nodded and slowly moved his hands out of his lap, his erection now very obvious.

She re relieved that he was not angry or upset with her. Just worried that she didn’t actually want to do it. She smiled at him, gaining confidence. “I want to do it, Nova, I do.” she told him, bobbing her head. “If you don’t want me to, that’s okay, but... I do want to.” Her fingers went a little further down his arm, and her eyes were looking brightly into his.

His eyes widened at her offer. Did she just...he blinked a few times before he dared speak again. "..destek..I..that is not..I could not ask you to do that it is not.." Once again he fumbled over his words, making his gaze drop. Was he hurting her feelings? Did she want this? Was she serious? "..do..do you want to? I can take care of it..on my own..but I do not want you to do something you do not want to do. It is not that I do not want you..I..I am sorry," he trailed off, deciding that his words weren't helping at all.

She squeezed his shoulder, looking worried. “I promise you that it is, Nova. It’s okay to feel... To feel like this. You’re allowed. It’s normal, and it’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Seeing him relax brought back her smile. However, she said nothing, her smile fading to make way for a pensive look. Her fingers trailed a small ways down his arm and for a few moments she looked to be staring at nothing. Then, her eyes focused on him, and with a blushing, quiet shyness, she murmured, “I can take care of it, Nova, i-if you want me to.” Would he be offended? Upset? Worry knotted in her stomach. Would he be afraid? She knew what the Masters had done to him, how they had abused him. She wanted to show him that it could be god, it could feel good, that sex and sexuality wasn’t something he had to be afraid of anymore. But, what this the right way? Morta wasn’t sure, but she knew that she did want to do it.

“..it does not feel normal,” Nova replied quietly. How could she be so calm and casual about it? Back in the Pit he would’ve been punished for reacting in such a way, no matter the reason. The masters saw it as horrible and disgusting; the masters were always rig-wrong. They were wrong. That was what Morta had explained to him when she told him that everything they’d told him and done to him was wrong. That it wasn’t natural. But this was? It still confused the scarred man, but he seemed to relax slightly. Should he take care of it? What would Morta say? “..it..it will not go away unless I take care of it,” he spoke quietly once more, finally lifting his gaze to look her in the eyes, hoping she would understand.

Morta was up on her knees, at eye level with Nova, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Nova, it’s okay,” she whispered, thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones, eyes showing no disgust or fear. “It happens, I’m sure, it’s okay, honey,” One hand smoothed back his hair, the other resting then on his shoulder. “Please, don’t feel sorry about it, Nova, I promise that it’s alright. It’s... It’s natural.” She gave him a little smile, and while she assumed he wasn’t looking her gaze flickered down. How would he take care of it? The usual sort of way that Morta knew of seemed like it would only make him uncomfortable, and as she thought about it she realized that she wouldn’t be opposed at all to helping.

She noticed. She saw. Oh god.. “Morta I am..I do not mean to…I thought it was inappropriate so I sat up and I did not want you to..to see it..” Nova fumbled over his words, his eyes low like they always were though his cheeks were now ever so slightly tinged with pink. He wished he could just will his reaction away, but it wouldn’t seem to leave. “..I am sorry, I..sorry,” he mumbled, trying hard to explain what was happening without it sounding horrible..though that was proving to be more difficult that he’d thought.

She turned her face to his arm, smiling as she laid a hand on the limb on her shoulder. “A little,” she answered, glancing down to his lap. Morta went quiet, tilting her head. “Ah...” She looked up at Nova. “Are you okay?” Biting her lip, she glanced back down to his lap. Morta, having grown up with all sisters, wasn’t sure about how males worked outside of the plain basics. She figured what was happening on a biological level, but the emotional sides and his reaction to it were more confusing.

He tensed when she leaned against him. Morta seeing how his body had decided to react was the last thing he wanted. She would think he was some sort of sicko or pervert..it wasn't like that at all, but that was certainly what it looked like. "..I am fine," he mumbled, trying to wrap a metal limb gently around her shoulders as well as keep his hands in his lap. "..I just could not sleep. I am sorry that I woke you..are you cold?"