#dmitrixbastion

[dmitri-shenker]

closed starter for @bastionsolo

Dmitri's nose twitched beneath his mask. He clung to the wall at the edge of the ballroom, watching the event without participating, so far, doing his best to seem unapproachable and mean. It hadn't been quite so bad when he'd had Dante beside him, but Dante had been picked up for a dance by somebody and had disappeared into the crowd. Dmitri wasn't over the events of heat week, had been notably meeker since, had been noted for his odd behaviours. He wanted to be alone, in closed off spaces with easy to monitor entrances and exits. This masquerade was a sensory nightmare to him, made him panic that assailants could pop out of anywhere at anytime. That Magnai could.

Magnai's scent swirled about the room. But there was something else too, another alpha moving in the space. Dmitri's grip on his glass tightened, the scent intensifying, rolling towards him like crashing waves. At least with the mask on no one could see the way Dmitri's lips trembled, how sickly pale he was. Finally he clocked the alpha, it was hard not to with the broadness of him, Dmitri's eyes finding the collar around his neck. What sick joke was this, to bring an alpha like that into the Undercroft. It made Dmitri nauseous. "Just because you wolf don't mean we friends," he grumbled, uncharitable and mean. "Don't want your alpha bullshit near me."

[dmitri-shenker]

More than anything, Dmitri wanted to return to his nest. It wasn't the best he'd ever made, just a few loose blankets and pillows he'd thrown together in the corner of the slaves' dormitory, but it was the closest he could get to safe, at Krovs. At least, outside of Valentin's bed. That had been safe, comfortable, but now Valentin was dancing with Magnai out in the ballroom and it made Dmitri howl into Bastion's shoulder at the betrayal. The person he'd thought was safe simply wasn't.

Panic was rising in his chest again, pulling his throat closed. His legs buckled and he sank out of Bastion's grip and onto the hard floor of the balcony, his dress fanning out around him. "Can we go back? Please? Please, I need to go back to my nest." Whatever enjoyment everyone else was getting out of the festivities, they were doing nothing but hurt Dmitri.

He had to lean down a little bit to keep scenting Dmitri, for the omega to hug around his shoulders. He only pulled back to look down at him when he mentioned that another alpha hurt him. To hear it made his temper flare, made him prickle with anger. Omegas were fragile, at least to Bastion. They were to be treated with soft hands and with as much nurturing as he was capable of, which Bastion did not have a lot of. He was more of the type to act on behalf of someone to protect them, to ask questions later. He wanted to leave Dmitri and go fight the other alpha just on principle but he had to remember that he was not nearly as strong as he usually was because of the collar. He would merely lie in wait instead of trying to strike first.

"He's not coming near you," Bastion replied flatly. "I won't let him. I'm not as strong as I usually am, but I can still fight. I don't care if he's a master or whatever, I don't care if he's more powerful than me. I'll stand between you two and make sure you stay as safe as you can from him." He couldn't protect Dmitri from everything that this sex castle was going to throw at him, but he could at least damn well go head to head with another wolf.

[dmitri-shenker]

Dmitri hadn't had a pack since he was a child, when he'd been taken with his mother to live among witches. He'd hated it, hated their stuffy, Mayfair ways, the way they demanded he throw his culture, his history, all away. But the packs he'd encountered had all been so alien, so aggressive. He'd watched how they treated their omegas, how they'd treated Dante. He'd insisted he was a lone wolf, that he'd never need a pack and yet there was something deep in Dmitri that yearned. He welcomed Bastion's scent in his most fragile of moments the way he had never welcomed it since it was his father rubbing the scent of alpha all over his little pup form.

He hiccoughed into Bastion's neck, his arms wrapping across Bastion's broad shoulders. It was pathetic, really, the way he needed. He accepted Bastion's instruction dumbly, face rubbing against Bastion's skin as he nodded. He longed for the alpha to pick him up, carry him somewhere safe and quiet. "I want to leave. I want to go. The alpha in there, he hurt me." Dmitri's scent soured as he said it, terror in his trembling voice. Bastion could surely intimate what Dmitri meant by hurt. "I don't feel safe."

"Dmitri," Bastion repeated, trying to soothe the omega further. He rumbled a low growl in his chest. It wasn't a growl of warning or danger. It was as close to a soothing sort of purr as he could get. "It's alright, Dmitri. Just breathe. We can stay right here for as long as you need to."

He started to rub a stubbled face over Dmitri's head to scent him, to fill his nose with that calming smell. Bastion got comfort from it and so he figured Dmitri would too. Such a thing was usually reserved for wolves who knew each other better, who might be pack, but there was no pack here. It was them versus the vampires and wolves, half or whole, should stick together when they were cut off from what they knew.

"I'm usually a fighter, you know," he said. He kept his voice calm, conversational. "So don't tell anybody I helped you, got it?"

[dmitri-shenker]

The feeling, even the sound, of his dress tearing did not help. Dmitri was caught in a flashback of being on Magnai’s kitchen floor, feeling his shirt come away from his body. He clutched his arms around himself, howled in distress, unable to reconcile what Bastion was doing now with what Magnai had done to him then. Tears rolled fat and heavy down Dmitri’s face. “Nyet. Nyet. Nyet.”

He tried his best to work his way out of Bastion’s grasp, but found himself confused and overwhelmed. He heard his mask clatter the ground, revealing the mess he was making of the careful makeup beneath. Despite it all, Bastion’s scent was working its magic on Dmitri. He sniffled into Bastion’s neck, letting the alpha pheromones calm him. He didn’t smell the same as Magnai - he smelt safe, comforting. Dmitri’s own scent began to settle in response to its usual musk of sandalwood and blackberry. He followed Bastion’s instruction, trying to focus on his breathing. “Dmitri,” he mumbled, the syllables slurring together.

What the fuck? Bastion scowled at the omega and was about to demand an explanation but he was shooting off and away. He sighed and glanced around. Nobody else seemed to care. That left this on him and he was not wasted enough to deal with it. Even still, his alpha brain couldn't leave an omega distressed and alone. He growled to himself and knocked back the rest of his beer and set the empty glass on a table before stalking after Dmitri, thoroughly annoyed.

He reached him quickly. Seeing that he was having trouble getting air, he used a sharp claw to slice through the expensive fabric because he sure as shit wasn't going to waste time looking for a tiny zipper. He ripped the dress to the space above Dmitri's tailbone to let him be able to take deeper breaths but that didn't solve the problem alone. Bastion was not the person to be helping calm down a panicking omega right now. He wanted to bark out that Dmitri just needed to snap out of it but he knew, logically, that would do nothing.

The hellhound turned Dmitri around and whipped his mask off. He let it fall to the ground as he leaned down, pressing Dmitri's nose against his collar. Underneath the harsh soap provided by Krovs, he smelled heavily of oak and ocean and more faintly like oleander growing along the coast. Bastion was calm and so his scent was calm.

"Deep breath," he commanded, voice low. He tried to keep the growl out of it. "My name's Bastion. Can you tell me your name?"

[dmitri-shenker]

Dmitri couldn’t focus on what Bastion was saying to him. Magnai was on the dance floor with Valentin, whirling in their direction. It made him sick to his stomach to see Valentin - his alpha, the soft, omega voice deep in his hindbrain reminded him - so close to the alpha that had so thoroughly abused Dmitri. The feeling of dread and panic intensified, like someone tightening a corset around Dmitri’s innards. He couldn’t breathe.

“I have to go,” Dmitri mumbled, barely looking at Bastion as he made his way out onto the terrace, into the open air, the quiet, empty space. He struggled with the fastening of his dress, which was now impossibly heavy on his ribs, felt like it was warping them with every moment it stayed so close to his skin. By the time Dmitri reached the stone wall at the edge he was shuddering, hyperventilating, cradling his head in his hands. He was having a full blown panic attack and couldn’t seem to put the breaks on it.

Bastion was still trying to get his bearings around this fucking ballroom. There were so many dress hems to be avoided, especially now that he'd had a couple of drinks in his to settle his nerves. His temper was still simmering under his skin, it always was, but the alcohol was doing an alright job of keeping it at bay currently. He had a glass of beer in his big hand when he caught the scent of an omega that wasn't Dante. It smelled sour, somewhat, like the omega was distressed. Not hard to think of a reason why but the alpha in him didn't want to not investigate.

He approached Dmitri and stopped within a foot or so of him. He tilted his head one way, then the other, a frown on his lips. Bastion didn't move to get any closer at present but he didn't back off, either. "Alpha bullshit?" he questioned, arching his brow under his mask. "What's that mean? Just because I'm an alpha doesn't mean anything too much anymore. You're not my pack." His blue eyes bore into Dmitri's, not backing down. Maybe he meant that kind of alpha bullshit. He didn't care.

"I came because you smell like you're panicking. I wanted to see if I could help."