Chapter Text
The Underground had been reeling over the news of the original contraceptive dealer: Betrayed and used by her Harpy runner and partner, more than likely secreted away for the usual fate.
You had remembered when you had met up with her fondly, the original creator of the drug. Her ambition had been infectious, the sheer brilliance in her eyes and how she spoke about starting an actual revolution made you genuinely excited to meet a fellow scientist. If the circumstances had been different, you could have been collaborating in a laboratory together, changing the world. It made you unbearably sad to think of her now, more than likely a bred, kept pet in a faraway nest somewhere.
All of it was just so.. sad.
You had heard stories, whispers passed in the few places where you could gather unheard, unwatched. You couldn’t separate what was fact from rumor but it was all terrifying all the same: Humans trapped in secluded towers deep in the forest with whatever Harpy that had managed to spirit them away and spending the rest of their lives in what was basically a prison. Sex slaves. Breeding stock.
Because of this you figured that you had to play smarter, learn from your predecessor’s mistakes… which meant zero Harpy involvement. Period.
It made things that much more difficult, but you had figured out a way to get the drugs into nests to those that needed them the most: drones. You had a small army of them, found trusted engineers to silence the propellers and motors on them and had dedicated pilots fly them on calculated routes at strict times of day and night, depending on the needs of the customer.
You knew the entire operation instantly put a target on your back but you were determined to continue her work. In this you persisted, checking the drug formula, improving the chemistry as a small handful of you huddled in your kitchen late into the evenings as you grew in number and distributed not just the drug, but the actual recipe. The money was nice, but this had become much more than making a profit.
It was late. You cracked your neck, moving to stretch your back and wrapping up from explaining the diagrams you had been hunched over for several hours: “The 63C route is asking for another variant, the current batch isn’t working as well in their sector. I started messing with the component that hinders sperm motility, making sure that-“
A knock fell on the door.
You went to go answer it, feeling your knees go weak at the Harpy in uniform at the other side. Not just from his presence, but his appearance; It was like someone had painted him in half, one part of his face colored differently from the other. His eyes bore into you as you forced a smile onto your face.
He cleared his throat as if trying to regain your attention as you assessed him. “I hate to disturb you so late at night, miss. Is everything alright here?”
“Its no problem at all, Officer..?”
“Todoroki.”
“Hmm.” You turned to look at the women at the table, then back at him. “Just a quiet Tuesday night for us. Has something happened?”
His wings were folded against his back, one dark, one light; they matched to complement the unique coloring of his features. “We’ve had a few calls about suspicious activity in the area over the past few nights. It’s almost curfew, ladies.”
You straightened and bit back the first response that came to mind: “Maybe if you didn’t go around kidnapping and harassing us we’d be safer.”
He reached up a hand on the door frame, easily stretching over your head. You also noted then how tall he was. “I can call for backup if anyone needs to be escorted home. It's dangerous out here, this time of night… May I come in?” He drummed his fingers against the wood, the sound invading the space.
You’d all practiced for this a thousand times.
You gripped the door, fighting the urge to slam it in his face. “Is there something wrong, officer?” For good measure, you casually let the tattoo that designated you as a Class Two Human flash from your wrist. If you were useful enough to the government they gave you a specific job and granted you small but certain protections; more importantly, you couldn’t be randomly taken.
Harpies had to jump through more hoops to legally breed you and found you too much trouble to bother with on most occasions. The privilege could be easily revoked, however. Your personal record was spotless, and it had to be; so many women depended on your status to protect them. For months now you’d kept your head down, for their sake. Unmated Humans were Class Three, Mated Humans instantly became designated Class One; you all knew why.
As it stood, the authorities had nothing on you. Looking at you, nobody would suspect you of being a part of what was basically a political rebellion: A cute little chemist in her oversized glasses, running back and forth to classes and grading papers and certainly not using guerilla tactics to help Humans fight back against an unfair caste system.
“I promise that we’re fine,” you smiled warmly, again.
“I’m sure you are,” the officer reassured you. “But.. what are you up to, this late at night?”
He followed your lead to the small gathering of women around the table in the kitchen; upon closer inspection in the light you noticed his darker wing was a shade of crimson so deep it was almost black.
You stepped aside and let him take a look at the structural diagrams on the table, math proofs scribbled in the margins. To most people it was just gibberish, lines and numbers on a page or something to look up when they wanted a tattoo. You’d just let him get his stupid authoritative bravado out of his system, play along, then smile dumbly and wave as he left. Hell, maybe you’d even offer him some cookies on the way out for good measure.
“Huh.” His eyes ran over the pages, flipping them over. “Odd activity for a Tuesday night. You are..?”
“Just tutoring,” you explained. “I’m a chemistry teacher. It can be pretty rough and I don’t mind helping out students on the side.”
“Impressive.” He smiled again, turning toward the papers and settled a hand on his chin in thought. “But I think you’ve made a mistake. Right here.”
Your smile faltered for just a second. “Pardon me?”
His talon tapped onto the page. “Right… here. You’ve written here that this is a structural diagram for a type of manmade fuel, but this is clearly some kind of.. drug? If I’m reading this correctly?”
You chuckled, palms beginning to sweat. “I didn’t know that the police were so well-versed on their chemistry. But I assure you, officer, that you’re wrong.”
He flashed you another smile and pushed out his badge so you got a better look at the title under his name: ‘S. Todoroki. Medical Forensics’.
Fuck.
“No, this definitely looks like.. some kind of drug. And, if I knew better...” He continued to run his talons over the page, still smirking. “..One could possibly infer that this was some kind of birth control. But why would you ladies be interested in that, I wonder?”
Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I don’t know… what you mean, officer.” Still smiling, you licked your lips and raised your voice a bit higher:
“ I really think that you should pay more attention to your homework.”
The phrase was benign enough, but the call signal you had arranged beforehand became instantly clear to the women at the table:
Get away. Hide. Run. Run, run, run.
There was complete silence for a split second, then absolute chaos broke loose.
The sounds of shattering glass and screaming fluttered around you, the air pulsing suddenly with wingbeat. The sound of a terrified shriek ascended up into the darkness from one of the broken windows and you felt tears well at your eyes. Something began to hiss as an acrid cloud arose from the floor as you saw a body go slack, another figure with large wings gathering them up into their arms.
Covering your mouth and nose with your sleeve, you turned just in time to avoid the officer from grabbing you. You managed to make it down the hall as shouts and more rapid wingbeat sounded behind you, making it to the staircase. You turned as your foot hit the first stair, a sudden wind blowing your hair back and making you lose your balance from the force of it. The officer you had been talking to had caught up to you in a single beat, wrapping a wing around your body to cradle your neck as the back of your head made impact on one of the steps.
The world instantly silenced itself and went black.
You came to not long after, head pounding, then were instantly hauled into an interrogation room.
The Harpy seated in front of you was massive, filling the space with his presence and had dwarfed you the moment he had strode into the room. His hair was a bright red, matching the scarlet wings folded against his back. His badge read ‘E. Todoroki’ with 'Police Captain' in gold above it. The chair he sat in looked specially made for someone his size. You sat in a standard metal folding chair, wrists in cuffs on your lap.
Todoroki.
Where had you heard that before? Your head still hurt and you were too upset to think about it much longer. You grumbled, trying to focus on him, on how to talk your way out of this. There was a crack on the lense of your glasses now, splitting the image of the Harpy in two.
It turned out that one of your students had been casing you this entire time, right under your nose. The captain opened a file on the table with hazy pictures of you teaching class, others with you with a literal bird’s-eye view in your home at your various meetings. In private moments, too: curled up into your knees while watching TV on your couch, toweling your hair off as you walked from your bathroom fresh from a shower.
The Harpy in front of you smiled at your obvious embarrassment. “So. Where do you make it?”
You smiled. “I don’t what you're talking about.” This was true. “I’m just a chemistry teacher.”
He sighed in irritation, continuing. “The gatherings you’ve been having. What do you discuss, exactly?”
“The usual, you know…” You crossed your legs, your tone almost conversational. “Chemistry, trying to figure out which of my friends had been kidnapped that week, things like that. You know- girl stuff.”
He smiled widely at you, as if he had figured out something particularly clever. “So you admit it.”
“Admit what?” You hummed.
He crossed his arms and sat back in his monstrous chair. “That you’re making and distributing illegal contraception.”
“I already told you,” you smirked. “I don’t make anything. I’m just a chemistry teacher. What are you going to do, arrest all of the teachers in the country for doing their job? And besides, if someone does not want to be pregnant how is that any of your business? What makes it illegal?”
You watched him straighten his shoulders, his temper rising before continuing: “Or do dislike the fact that someone may not want to have your children?”
You cocked your head to the side, getting straight to the point: “I’m kind of confused here, officer. You seem pretty convinced that I’m guilty of something, so by that logic alone I am. Let’s not waste our time thinking that I was brought here to convince you otherwise. But I also may or may not be suffering from a concussion, so you tell me.”
He crossed his arms, considering this. “Yes,” he smirked. “Let’s.
You widened your eyes, blinking coquettishly at him through your broken glasses. “So. What’s a damsel to do?”
“To the point: You’re too dangerous to be left alone to your own devices, too useful to just let you rot in a cell,” he hummed to himself. “So, we’re making you a deal: First option is that you help us identify sects distributing similar paraphernalia-”
“Nope. Cell. Immediately,” you huffed without letting him finish. “I know your kind, you’ll make me every promise in the book and then renege on the deal as soon as you can. No.”
Amusement passed over his face. “Then I am guessing that you’re choosing option number two.”
You bit your lip and felt your handcuffed wrists begin to tremble in your lap. “…Which is?”
He chuckled, the tone dark. “You are to be sent to auction and Mated to the highest bidder.”
“I.. uh.. wh-“ Your eyes registered your shock and confusion. “Excuse me?”
He crossed his arms. “Like I said: Too dangerous to be left alone. With Humans.” His eyes raked over you and you felt like you wanted to cower away from his appraisal. “It is only offered to the higher-class: Senators, government officials, people who want to acquire a more… unique Mate. More discerning clientele.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You can’t do this. I’m a Class Two.”
The captain offered a short bark of a laugh. “You’re lucky that your little stunt didn’t revoke you entirely of all your class privileges. But think, my dear,“ he smiled again in a way that made your stomach sink. “What do you think Class Twos are reserved for?”
You couldn’t hide the fear in your voice this time. “If I’m so dangerous, then why risk having me so close to someone so important?”
“Because,” he stood and walked around the table, grabbing you by the shoulder and forcing you to stand using only a single hand. You bristled as he bent at the waist to hover his lips over your ear and you tried to turn away from the sudden heat of his body.
“…Compared to someone like me, you are tiny, slow, and weak. The fastest things about you are your brain and your mouth and I am sure someone like me would appreciate putting that to very good use. Despite what you’ve convinced yourself of otherwise, you are really and truly powerless here.”
You whimpered as he easily knelt to pick you up under your knees and shoulders and placed you neatly back into your chair, your back stiff. You couldn’t breathe.
“If it makes you feel any better, I can assure you that you will be very, very expensive.”
---
A hood had been thrown over your head as you were escorted into a car and driven to an unknown location. A group of Harpies ushered you out into a secluded, windowless building in a fenced-off space somewhere within the city.
They had taken your glasses, shoving a pair of contacts at you and waited for you to put them in. Stripping you down, they took you to another room and inspected every inch of you before practically throwing you into a bath and scrubbed your skin as you were held down like an angry cat. Your nails were clipped and filed, still wearing your handcuffs as warm, sweet oil was rubbed over your body but nothing else; you realized that they wanted you smelling as naturally as yourself as possible.
Your hair was dried and brushed out to where it naturally fell over you; You winced as they went over the spot where you had hit your head on the stairs, still tender. You thrashed as a piece of solid metal was raised to your face, crying as it was placed over your lips and fastened behind your neck, under your hair: A muzzle.
Finally, you were then walked down a dim, carpeted hallway where you passed other women as they were walked back and forth with a Harpy escort, muzzled similarly to you. Some were sniffling, tears bright on their cheeks. Others had a shiny, deadened look in their eyes as if resigned to their fate.
At the end of the hall, there was a pair of double-doors where two Harpies stood on guard at each side, some sort of oxygen or chemical tank beside one of them. He stepped forward as the doors suddenly opened with a crying girl being roughly escorted past them, her pleas unintelligible from underneath the muzzle.
Both Harpies moved to restrain her as the muzzle was removed as she wailed, sending a cold spike of fear down your spine. She struggled against the Harpy closest to the tank before he brandished a mask from behind the metal; it was pressed to her face, her eyes closing as her limbs went slack. Another one of them arrived to wrap her in a cloak, lowering the hood over her face and carried her to an unknowable fate.
Actually, you knew exactly what kind of place she was headed to. You knew, and you were next.
The entire scene couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but witnessing it instantly made a wave of nausea rise through you.
The doors opened into a blackened space, something shining from the center. The Harpy holding your arm strode forward and you were helplessly pulled along with him.
They padded you barefoot onto an illuminated platform where eight two-way mirrors surrounded you. It was cold in the room, your nipples hardening in the thin shift they had forced you into and you shuffled nervously, sensing the attention from the mirrors around you. Lit from below, you could see that your body was in silhouette from beneath, teasing at the shape of your figure. You had expected something like a livestock auction, a loud crowd and shouting in a deafening throng around you. Knowing that it was a blind auction and being leered at from beyond the darkness made the entire process all the more sinister to you. The Harpy who escorted you in stepped backward toward the door, falling into the void beyond the platform.
A voice overhead began speaking from above the podium, male and almost clinical in tone:
“Human, Class Two. Chemist and teacher; guaranteed to breed an intelligent, capable brood and be patient with children.”
The voice continued, listing off your body measurements, health history, and then one detail that you had prayed would go unnoticed during their examination: “Certified virgin.” You felt your thighs press together self-consciously and you knew that the action had not gone unnoticed. “Smaller clutches are more likely based on body frame, but an excellent chance for a brood where each chick will be nurtured individually. Quality over quantity.” Your stomach turned. “Bidding will start at fifty-thousand.”
Then, complete silence.
You tried to distract yourself in your thoughts, starting to tremble and failing miserably: Did she go through this? Is this what happened? That overwhelming sadness rose within you again and you felt like you were going to cry.
Your heartbeat rose in your ears as the minutes ticked on, your hands wringing in front of you in your cuffs as you looked this way and that as each of your reflections could stare back at you in horror. You felt your chest begin to heave in fear.
“Bidding has concluded.”
You looked upward and blinked toward the voice in the ceiling.
“Congratulations to the winner at five-hundred-thousand.”
You breathed. You had never seen that much money in your life, much less thought someone would pay-
The deeper horror of it crashed into you. Someone had paid for you.
You were dazed as you were dragged out of that dark room back into the light, the muzzle taken off as you took in a deep, shaking breath. You turned to the Harpy closest to you as he held the mask connected to god-knows-what sedative you had seen him use on the woman that had gone in before you.
“Please…” Your lip quivered, trying not to cry.
He smiled, patting you on the head like a little pet and grabbing you before you could shrink away. He pressed the mask to your face.
“It will all be over in a second.”