Late 20s tgirl. Elf ear pervert. Some say hemipenis girl. Writing mostly original F/F. Stories will frequently be horny so if you're under 18 you're getting blocked.



SpectreWrites
@SpectreWrites

"For future reference, when you're hiring a human weapons tech, generally they know how to maintain particle beams, autocannons, things like that. Not... whatever this is."

"I'll keep it in mind, rook. Now touch up those containment sigils before we all fry."

The weapons bay on the Ivy Cudgel was a single small room. Refrigerators filled with bags of blood lined one wall, and five IV poles to place them on were arranged in the center of the room. The "weapons system" was a single elf, currently sitting within a summoning circle and gibbering to herself almost imperceptibly as the IVs dribbled blood onto her face.


The rookie had been introduced to her when she got the job ("Hello," She had said, not making eye contact. "I will be in your care, I look forward to working together."), and had seen her around the ship since. She was a quiet, fragile thing, even for an elf. She didn't speak unless spoken to, she was never in any of the communal areas if she could avoid it, the rookie only knew that she ate on account of her boss grumbling about making sure she did before going to the mess hall. Her uniform was unique among the crew, ceremonial black robes and various eerie trinkets. The rookie didn't know where exactly "warlock" fit into the command structure, but everyone on the ship treated her with respect, so she did too.

Even if she had to be the one to pour blood on her head so that she could channel a demon to rend enemy ships asunder.

The ship shuddered, sending IV poles clattering to the floor.

"Shit!" Her boss cursed, "Fix those, now!"

"Weapons officer, status." Came a voice from her boss' comms badge.

"Not ideal if impacts are going to keep knocking our shit over, captain."

"Shields are on their last legs, we need to end this quickly. Full power."

"Yes captain." She said, and clicked off her comm badge. "Okay rook, what you're about to see never leaves this room, got it?"

"...Yes?" She said, unsure of what could possibly be more taboo than what they were already doing.

"Good." Her commanding officer said, and then swiftly drew a dagger from her belt and drove it into her own palm.

"What the FUCK-" She screamed, and her boss waved her off with what was now her good hand, the other pressed to her mouth. Blood gushed from the wound, staining her face. She strode into the summoning circle and the demon snapped to face her, pupilless eyes trained on the source of fresh blood.

Before the beast could pounce, the officer removed her hand from her face and pulled her into a kiss, blood pooled in her mouth flowing between their lips. The containment sigils smoked and hissed and the rookie scrambled to repaint them all fast enough to prevent a breach.

She could worry about what the fuck she was watching later.

Her boss was now kissing the warlock's neck while she lapped at her bloody hand like an animal, and it wasn't hot, and she was focused on the circle and not blushing.

"We're in the clear, shut her down officer."

Her boss whispered something unpronounceable in the warlock's ear, and she shuddered and went limp as the demon left her. She held her tightly, kissed her forehead reassuringly.

"Pass me the bandages, rookie."

She did as she was told, and her boss started wrapping her hand. She had so many questions.

"Is... Is that part of my job?"

"No."

don't say it don't say it don't say it

"Can it be?"

Her boss chuckled. "Ask her when she's feeling better, rookie."

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