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zhongrin · 2 years ago

Text

insignificant (pt.2 / 2)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, xiao

◇ tags ◇ angst, hurt no comfort, major character death (you), possibly ooc xiao(?) (i kinda broke him a little-)

◇ a/n ◇ hmm? what, you thought i was gonna write a resolution for part 1 on part 2? lol-

no.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

your blood was everywhere.

on the ground, on your clothes, on your face. he’s kneeling by your side, vision hazy and blurred from tears. a broken body, a broken former deity, a broken world. and it always ends when he crumples onto you with a hoarse call of your name-

“zhongli!”

his amber eyes open tiredly, and he blinks until your face is clearly within sight. as if he’s in a daze, he lifts a hand that’s faintly pulsing with geo energy to caress your cheek, silently appreciating the warmth of your body heat and the blood pumping through your veins.

“it’s okay,” you hum as you lean onto his touch. he’s confided in you about what always happened in the nightmares, and so you know the words to soothe him, “it’s not real. see, i’m fine.”

“yes, i can see that you are. thank you for the reassurance, my dear,” he agrees with a relieved sigh, and you lean down to place a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“are you sure there’s nothing i can help with? your nightmares… you’ve been having them every night now, and i... i worry about you.”

there is nothing that can stop the erosion of a deity's soul, is what he wishes to tell you, but he decides to flash you a comforting smile instead. he pulls you into an embrace and runs his fingers through your hair as he tells you for the hundredth time that he’ll be fine. as he tries to convince himself that he still has time.

just one more day.

just one more cup of tea with you.

just one more hug so he remembers the shape of your body.

just one more kiss from your pretty lips. just one more. just one more-

he should have known being greedy was never a good thing. not to mortals. not to adepti. not to an archonー

your blood was everywhere.

on the ground, on your clothes, on your face. he’s kneeling by your side, vision hazy and blurred. his head feels heavy; the erosion is messing up his memory and his perception. a broken body, a broken former deity, his broken world. but before he crumples onto you, something stops him.

his hands.

they’re drenched with your blood too.

....

...... ah.

as the entirety of liyue qixing prepares to subdue their corrupted god, only a certain half-qilin hybrid winces at the fearsome roar of the dragon;

for it was anything but a shout of fury, but rather, a scream of pain.

those nightmares were real after all. he had only missed the fact that it was his hand that was drenched in your blood.

snezhnaya’s weather is horrendous, and even more so in recent days.

which is a shame, considering it was your first time visiting ajax’s hometown: a small village amongst the forests where it snows all year round. though you made the necessary preparations, you still couldn't win against the harsh weather and preferred the fireplace over the outside world - hence ajax letting you entertain his siblings indoors as he periodically goes out to hunt or run some errands. today, too, is such a day.

teucer, who liked you as soon as you introduced yourself, is latched to your hip, grinning brightly as he suggests a game of hide-and-seek. pulled in by the stars in his eyes, you promptly nod and close your eyes so he can get to hide.

…………. that was thirty minutes ago.

you are (understandably and undeniably) panicking at this point. ajax’s house is no mansion; it's a humble cottage that withstood the cold and it's just the right size for his whole family. you had searched every nook and cranny of the cozy space, but you hadn't seen any glimpse of the boy.

wait… if not inside…..

your eyes flit toward the window.

outside….

in this snowstorm?

teucer is a native of this land. he is naturally much more tolerant than you are when it comes to colder temperatures, but having to stay out there for thirty whole minutes….?

oh. oh no. oh no.

you barge through the front door hurriedly, calling out teucer’s name into the blizzard, heart hammering in your chest.

an hour later, ajax’s heart dropped when he's greeted by a crying teucer and his clearly worried family. upon knowing the situation (of course you didn’t know about the secret bunker he built for his family to hide in case the worst scenario happened), the cold fear creeps up his chest from within, and he set out to find you. he doesn’t even have the mind to protest when his younger brother insisted that he too would tag along, because he wanted to apologize firsthand for worrying you.

and when he finally finds you, his world shatters before him.

“i’m sorry! brother, i-i’m sorry!”

teucer is tugging at his coat and he instinctively crouches to wrap the small trembling boy into his arms. but no words of encouragement coulc leave his lips, for what could he have said in this situation?

‘don’t worry about it’? but his sanity feels like it's decreasing rapidly.

‘you didn’t do anything wrong?’ but a small, horrible, horrible part of his brain yelled otherwise.

‘it’s okay’? but it’s not. it’s not. it will never be, now.

it feels like his entire body is covered with frostbite. he wants to claw out his heart so badly. it hurts so much worse than getting stabbed in the chest or electrified when his hydro vision has to face against an electro-wielder. how can it hurt more when he’s not even physically bleeding out? how can a simple box containing a simple ring weigh so heavily on his coat pocket? why do you look so serene as you lay there, lifeless and as white as the first snow falling in the early morning?

why did things have to turn out like this?

all living beings make mistakes.

xiao made the mistake of pushing you away with harsh, biting words when you opened your heart to him the first time. he made the mistake of not paying enough attention to you at the start of your relationship. he made the mistake of not celebrating your birthday with you the first time it rolled around after you got into a relationship. social interactions and love aren’t his best subjects, so he could go on for hours if he wished to list every single fault he made.

but…

every single time, you tried your best to communicate with him.

every single time, you forgive and forget.

every single time, you smile, cup his cheeks, and whisper patiently: “it’s okay. i forgive you. don’t make the same mistake again, okay? love you.”

…….

what use is his teleportation power when he can’t use it to get to you in time?

you, the light of his life, the love of his entire heart, the drive behind his monotonous routine.

him hearing the way your heartbeat slows, like a hunted animal in their last moments, struggling to survive, to no avail.

him not understanding why you're smiling even in your last moments, not understanding why you would whisper the declaration of love in your dying breath, not understanding the bittersweet tears slipping down your slowly closing eyes as your final words somehow entered through the loud ringing in his ears.

‘it’s okay.’

‘i forgive you.’

‘i love you.’

‘live.’

i can't.

his qingxin, lifeless and broken, cradled close to his chest.

tears stream down your beloved's cheeks as he feels the last remnants of his heavily cracked heart shattering into pieces, flashes of his life playing right at the back of his mind. he's not the one who was bleeding out yet he feels pain greater than the most severe wound and the darkest karmic debts. for once, the sight of blood - your blood - makes him want to vomit and retch and claw his eyes out. for once, the gruesome sight makes him heave and suffocate as he curls into himself, fingers digging into his hardened adepti skin.

i can't do this anymore.

xiao drops to the ground after slaughtering everything in the vicinity: vagrants, innocents, animals and plants, none escaped the explosion that was his power, a gust of wind so violent and vile it left the grounds reeking of death as he shouts into the moonless night-

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!!"

the geo shackles bind him as he awaits his judgment. the contract has been broken and he has to pay the price. and yet as he sees the golden light of his savior and executioner, his lips wearily lift into a broken smile.

finally, his seemingly neverending eternal suffering is over.

finally, he’s allowed to be reunited with the people he loves.

finally, he too, can rest.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

Note

I think I something you might going to like. 84 but with a twist. Reader is a sorcerer and a friend of Vox Machina, the last time they seen them was battle Mind Flayer thus sacrificed themselves to froze the gate to other dimensions and stop Mind Flayer. Only see Vox Machina one final look before froze themselves. Not until Mighty Nein broke the frozen sorcerer. Only hear familiar voices, once they open their eyes they realize it's not Vox Machina, but the group who saved them.

Kinda like Avatar The Last Airbender when Aang frozen in time. Hope this is too much for you.

Some friendships transcend lifetimes… I love The Last Airbender it’s such a good show, and I’ve defiantly watched it over a dozen times, but anyways onto the story

I know I’ve called stories long before but like I thing this one takes the cake so far… here’s hoping it’s a good one

Lost Time

Vox Machina/Mighty Nein & Sorcerer!Reader (Platonic)

84- Who are you?

Spells flew left and right as you and the rest of Vox Machina faced off against a rather troublesome Mind Flayer, your ultimate goal was to destroy the gateway this aberration had opened and stop any beasts from coming through from other dimensions. Having silver dragon blood running through your veins meant you specialized in ice magic, being able to freeze just about anything with enough time and effort put in. With the rest of the team keeping the Mind Flayer distracted while you tried to use your magic to freeze and shatter the gateway, but the problem was this gate was enormous. The Mind Flayer had caught on to what was happening and attacks you causing you to lose concentration on your task, thankfully you’d managed to deal enough damage to shatter the base of the gateway causing it to crumble to the ground, falling on the Mind Flayer effectively killing it. For a moment it looked like you’d won but as the dust settled some you see the portal was still open and extremely unstable, energy crackling every which way the cavern starting to collapse around you.

"We can’t stay here the whole place is coming down on top of us." Percy calls for a retreat.

"It didn’t close, we broke it but it didn’t close!" Grog shouts still in a rage. You look over at all of them then over at the portal, you knew what had to be done so with a shaky breath you start towards the broken gateway.

"(Y/n) what are you doing? We need to leave!" Vax calls for you with a panicked tone.

"If I don’t seal this thing, it could mean more trouble then even we could handle." You continue forward against the groups protests getting close enough in range to start using your magic to freeze the opening before anymore energy can release itself. The room grew drastically colder, frost appearing along the walls as you pushed yourself past your limits.

"We can’t just leave you here!" Pike cries.

"You have to, if you don’t you’ll be buried here as well!" You yell, urging them to go without you.

"But-"

"Just go!" You scream at them, by now you could feel the cold of your magic effecting your own body. With looks of sorrow you watch as they all make their way to the exit, Keyleth looks back and calls your name one more time before being dragged off by the others. "It'll be okay." You whisper to yourself, a single tear sliding down your cheek as the gateway lets loose a pulse of energy and you unleash all your magic at once to conceal it, making your vision go white…

Everything felt cold, shadows were moved around in front of you. Were you dead? You thought you might be but then you start hearing faint voices, albeit muffled hit your ears.

"… see that?" It kinda sounded like Vex but you don’t remember her having such a high pitched, bubbly voice.

"It… dangerous." That sounded like Keyleth except much deeper and gravely.

"Wait, I think… in there." Since when did Grog become so soft spoken and educated?

"Maybe… use fire… see what’s inside." You defiantly don’t remember Scanlan sounding so shrill before.

"… not a… perhaps… could be dead." Now when did Vax get such an odd accent?

"… they're alive. We need…" Percy also sounded much calmer and relaxed then you were used to. What was going on, and why did everyone sound so different? A glowing light shines through bringing a warm feeling with it, there’s a cracking sound followed by shattering as you fall to the ground, you figured Pike must’ve used some sorta healing or restoration spell to free you. After a slight pause you gasp in actual air for the first time in you weren’t sure how long, and look up at the people in front of you. Your vision was still a little blurry trying to adjust to your surroundings and for a brief moment you thought you were staring at your friends, but when you rub your eyes to clear them you see before you a group of complete strangers making you jump back in surprise.

"Who are you?" Your voice comes out chattering both from fear and from the cold that still lingered in your body.

"Could ask you the same question." The woman who looked to be a monk shoots back.

"Well I asked first." You rebuttal attempting to stand, your legs were still shaky causing you to trip only to be caught by the firbolg on one arm and the tiefling on the other.

"Hi! I’m Jester!" The tiefling says cheerfully, holding her hand out for you to shake.

"Uhh… pleasure to meet you." You greet slowly accepting the hand shake, you then look to your other side at the firbolg.

"Hi, I’m Caduceus, how are you?" He introduces himself.

"I’m doing quite alright, thank you." You then look to the others in the group.

"Hi I’m Nott, just Nott." The goblin gives an awkward little wave, you wave back.

"Name's Fjord." There was a minor shift in his voice that made him sound more western, but only for a moment. You just nod your head in acknowledgment.

"My name's Caleb Widogast." The red head says rather stiffly, you could easily tell he was a wizard due to the large spell book stripped to his persons.

"Beauregard." The monk woman simply says.

"It’s very nice to meet you all. My name's (y/n)." You finally introduce yourself, now feeling a little more comfortable around them. "You have my thanks for freeing me of my icy prison."

"How did you end up in there anyways?" Jester asks. You explain to them everything you could clearly recall from your adventure before somehow placing yourself into some kind of frozen stasis.

"You know, now that I’ve had a better look…" You trail off slightly, taking in your surroundings once more. "This looks nothing like the cavern I sealed myself in. Where exactly are we?"

"You're in the Happy Fun Ball!" Jester happily states, you give her a confused look.

"That’s only a nickname." Caleb quickly jumps in, giving you a quick explanation of the object you were inside.

"How strange, maybe the last pulse of energy from the gateway sent me here along with most of the ruins." You look over at the broken and thankfully inactive gate that was in shambles, defiantly no way to activate that thing anymore.

"So if I may ask, why go through the trouble of coming here a second time? I mean, you know how dangerous it was the first." You question.

"Well we're looking for someone, that wasn’t you, and hopefully find a way to stop this cult for something called the Angel of Irons." Fjord gave an explanation this time. You let out a large sigh, this was a lot of new information to take in such a short time.

"That’s interesting." You say absentmindedly, still taking in this new situation you were suddenly in. You shake your head a bit and look to the group. "Well, if you need any help I'll happily oblige, it’s the least I could do for freeing me."

"Why that’s very generous of you, honestly we could probably use all the help we can get." Caduceus gives you a kind smile.

"Of course, just tell me everything I need to know about your situation." With that they all started to explain everything that’s been happening, it being a little hard to follow along sometimes with them talking over each other but you get the picture eventually. "So your friend, Yasha right? She’s under this Obann's control and they also have a creature called the Laughing Hand at their disposal. Now your here looking for the wizard Yussa because he’s been missing in here for 3 weeks and time is really strange here too, did I get all that?" You question.

"That’s the basics of it." Nott says with nod.

"Looks like we got our work cut out for us. Especially with the strange time here." You place a finger under your chin in slight thought, you had a lot of questions running through your head but had to put them aside for now, there were more pressing matters to deal with first. Finally having regained enough strength to stand on your own you set off with this new group of adventurers…

Taking down the Permaheart had been no easy feat but with Beau downing it and yours and Caleb’s combined spells it was finally reduced to frozen ashes and you’d finally located Yussa, amongst other things that happened and were ready to leave this place once and for all. Throughout all this, as helpful as you were you could tell this group still didn’t fully trust you, whispering amongst each other and defiantly not telling you everything. Who were you to blame them though, they were as much of strangers to you as you were to them, even if they did save you, so you figured it best to just keep a slight distance when they talked quietly with each other, and if you were being honest you were exhausted. Having been frozen for who knows how long didn’t cancel out the effect of having used a lot of magic, plus the magic you used to help fight off the creatures and creations that lurked in this sphere. You located the exit and the second you all arrived inside of Yussa's tower you fell to your knees panting.

"Whoa, hey are you alright?" Fjord comes over to you and helps support your weight so you could still stand.

"Sorry, I’m just a little tired is all, I suppose after everything I still haven’t fully recovered from my icy sleep." As if to exaggerate your point you let out a yawn and start leaning your full weight into the half-orc.

"Do you think it would be alright if we left (y/n) here for the time being." Caleb asks Yussa who in turn looks over at your exhausted form.

"I juss need some proper rest, I’ll be out of yer hair and rejoin with them once I dooo." You slur through your words slightly.

"Very well." He says with a soft sigh, then turns to his assistant to get a room prepared for you. When your brought in you immediately collapse on the little makeshift bed and pass out, getting some much needed rest. You awaken feeling much more refreshed and walk your way up the tower to where you hoped to find Yussa, when you enter the room you see the mage as well as the Mighty Nein and a very familiar face who stared back at you with as much of a shocked look as your own.

"Allura?" You ask almost nervously, she looked much older then when you’d last seen her. You see her eyes gloss over a little as she holds back tears.

"(Y/n)?" There’s a slight silence that fills the room before the two of you embrace each other. "I was told you sacrificed yourself to save our everyone, we all thought you were dead!" Allura practically cries, breaking away from the formal appearance she’d put on in front of everyone until now.

"I thought I was as good as dead too, but these folks here saved me, pulled me out of my frozen tomb." You say gesturing towards the Nein.

"Wait wait wait, you two know each other?" Nott looks between the two of you confused.

"Of course we do, we're friends." You simply reply.

"You haven’t changed a bit." Allura says looking you over.

"And you…" You pause slightly. "You’ve certainly gotten wiser." Allura just gives you a look that says "yes, I know I’m old". After your little reunion you refocus your attention on the task at hand, collecting information on this Angel of Irons and learning that it was in fact the Chained Oblivion, Tharizdun. You listen intently to everything being said to get a better understanding of what was going on and the more you learned the more serious and dangerous the situation grew.

"I believe it best I return to Tal'Dorei and inform the council, will you be joining me?" Allura looks over to you for confirmation.

"As much as I’d love to go home, I promised these fine people I’d help them. It’s the least I could do for what they’ve done for me." You give your friend a smile, she returns it with a worried look then sighs and nods.

"Alright, just please be careful and don’t disappear again, I don’t know how I’d handle the knowledge of seeing you alive only to learn you’ve really died this time." She places a firm yet gently grip on your shoulders, you place your hands on top of hers and give them a reassuring squeeze.

"I can’t make any big promises here but I’ll do my best. Until then it may be best if you keep my status a secret to everyone, alright? You’ll even be the first person I visit once this is all over." You look her in the eyes and slowly release your grip, once again she nods as she slowly moves her hands back to her side and teleports out of the tower.

"Aww man, I wanted to know who was on this council she mentioned." Nott looks down disappointed.

"Me too." Jester pouts. "Unless you know!" The two of them give you expectant looks making you take a step away from them.

"I can’t say I’d know for sure, a lot is different now then what I remember." You hold up your hands in defence.

After getting everything sorted out, you left Yussa's tower thinking as long as you stay with this group you should be fine. Then they split up, the girls in one direction and the boys in the other which threw you for a loop but you were able to sort yourself out and enjoy a more casual rest of the day getting to better know some of the others. The following days weren’t as you’d expect however especially when you were shopping around a little shop know as the Invulnerable Vagrant, it was no Gilmore's Glorious Goods but it still nice and you had to admit the shopkeeper, Pumat, was a charming firbolg in his own right. What was really unexpected though was the surprise attack by the Inevitable End, dealing with them was tricky when they could phase through the floor but you managed to drive them off and check in on what was happening with Yasha. Your next stop was a visit with a sorta mafia? You were really starting to question the group's moral compass, sure you have done crazy things in the past too but the Nein seemed to find a way to make things even weirder, you decided to stay out of most of it when they told you the only way to get in was to share your blood. Meeting up the next day you made your way back to Pumat's shop, being both shocked a relieved when he decided to join and help the party on this fast approaching mission…

Never in your life had you thought that the steps to a cathedral of Pelor would feel so menacing and filled with unease and yet here you were. The battle was intense, rifts opening and bringing forth creatures of the abyss, Yasha and the Laughing Hand were proving to be tough opponents and everything seemed to be going downhill. With sights set on the mind-controlled barbarian you weighed your options, you couldnt be reckless with your spells seeing as Beau had fallen unconscious so an AoE spell might end up killing her, you settle for using a Ray of Frost spell seeing as your silver dragon blood made it stronger. It works, distracting Yasha away from Beau and giving Caduceus the opportunity to dispel the control over her and spare Beau from deaths grip. With that taken care of you switch your focus to an oddly familiar situation, going to close the rifts and stopping the creatures coming through, however this time it wasn’t a large gateway at least. You were very focused on your task you didn’t notice Obann escape to the deeper chambers of the cathedral until you heard one of the Nein call to you.

"Obann's escaping we need to move!" Caleb calls, you look back and forth between them and the creatures still coming through a few of the remaining rifts, Pumat was still dealing with the the creatures as well and by the looks of things, despite his word of reassurance, he was already having a difficult time.

"You go on ahead, I’ll stay back here and help fend these creatures off!" You call back.

"Are you-"

"Just go!" You shout at them feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. You shake off the feelings, this wasn’t going to end like last time. The Nein disappear after the devil and with Pumat to aid you the two of you worked to close the few rifts and finish off the remaining cultists and creatures. It had been a long and strenuous battle but you’d done it and you were still alive, you rest yourself against one of the supporting pillars to catch your breath. After a long pause that feels like hours had passed, you feel a feathery touch against your shoulder, looking over at Caduceus who uses a quick Cure Wounds on you, Fjord also makes his way over.

"We want to thank you for everything, we may not have managed as well as we had if not for you." Fjord thanks, handing you a healing potion.

"I suppose that makes us even then." You comment with a cheeky smile happily accepting the potion and putting it to use right away.

"You know, I feel we could really use someone like you on the team, if you’re interested that is." Caduceus offers.

"I appreciate the offer, and though in reality it has been a long time since my last adventure, it still feels like it was only a short time ago to me. I really miss home, and am in dire need for a break, but if you do ever require my assistance in the future I will happily lend my aid to you again. For now I just wish to go home and familiarize myself with the changes that've taken place." You decline the offer as politely as you can, he gives you a nod of understanding. With that you get up, bid them farewell and exit the cathedral, making your way towards an area that’s out of the way before getting to work on a Teleportation Circle, as you're setting it up you think back to your time with this crazy group of adventurers, and while it was short they still made you feel welcome in their own strange ways. In some ways they reminded you of your time with Vox Machina, perhaps that’s why you were able to work with them and come to form a trust with them as quickly as you did, who knew. You finish the last symbol for your spell and the portal opens to the familiar view from inside Allura's tower, it was time to go home so with a deep breath you step through the portal.

Bonus (2 for 1 story):

Reunion

"Are you alright? You're looking quite nervous." Allura asks with slight worry as you walk through the halls of Greyskull Keep.

"I haven’t been home in so long and so much has changed, I just don’t know what to expect or how they’ll react." You admit. She places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a reassuring smile.

"Trust me I don’t think they’ll be expecting this either." You walk up to a set of large double doors.

"And from everything you told me…" You trail off a bit.

"There’s more I missed, but I’m sure they’ll be more then happy to fill you in."

"Okay…" You take a breath and reach for the knob only to pause again. "Why don’t you go in first, and I’ll follow your lead." Allura just gives a soft chuckle and nod before opening the door and heading in. You step back and try to catch your breath wondering why you still felt so nervous. You had to wonder if this was even worth it, a lot had happened and changed since you’d been gone and there was a lingering doubt that your friends might not even care anymore.

"Come in and say hello." You hear Allura's voice muffled through the door. Moment of truth, you steel your nerves and make your way through the door. When you enter you have a look around the room seeing all eyes on you, at first their expressions were blank or shocked so you decide to lighten the mood and give a small smile.

"Hello everyone, it’s been awhile." You say in almost a whisper, already feeling the tears well up in your eyes. The next thing you know your tackled into a hug by a sobbing Keyleth.

"You’re not dead! You’re not dead!" Is all you hear her say through her sobbing. You now return the hug having been able to stabilize yourself and comfort the Archdruid.

"I missed you too Kiki. I’ve missed all of you." You release one arm from her seeing as she wasn't going to let go of you just yet, and feel a slight pressure rest on your shoulder once you do. Craning your neck over you see a raven perched itself on you, you raise your hand and give him a little scratch under his beak as he leans into the touch. You look to the others seeing Vex approach.

"My word darling, you haven’t aged a day since we last saw you. What’s your secret?" She tries to add some minor humour to the situation but you could tell she was holding back some tears, being just as overjoyed as Keyleth.

"Just freeze yourself for a good 20 years or so and it’ll shave off those wrinkles in no time." You lightly chuckle, using your free arm now to offer her a hug. She accepts giving a much shorter side hug to you while the others finally came to their senses and start bombarding you with questions. You do the best you can to answer all of them as well as properly greeting everyone again and exchanging welcoming hugs from them, being lifted off the ground when Grog brought you into an almost bone crushing grip. "As much as I missed you too, I’m still fragile." You wheeze at the goliath.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just been so long." He says, trying and failing to hold back his emotions.

"Right, which reminds me, you must have stories to tell me. I’d love to hear what you’ve all done over the years."

"Oh man, where do we begin? There’s so much to tell." Pike ponders aloud.

"How about we start with what happened after my… departure." You suggest, ready for the day to be filled with stories of their adventures and exploits.

#critical role #critical role & reader #vox machina #vox machina & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #nothing romantic here

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xiaomomowrites · 4 years ago

Text

midas touch

Genshin Impact | ZhongChi

Summary: Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

“Can I…” Ajax starts tentatively. His eyes are blown so wide, and they glimmer with curiosity and a silent joy that is akin to a child being gifted sweets. Zhongli chuckles, nodding his head in silent affirmation.

The pads of Ajax’s fingers hesitantly make contact with the horns stemming from the crown of his head. They’re beautiful; they glow as if they’re dipped in melted mora, pulsing brightly and casting a dim light across Ajax’s pale skin. They’re quite long, and Ajax gently trails his index finger along the curve of a horn. They don’t stick straight up, though. Instead, it bows backwards charmingly until it tapers off midway toward the back of Zhongli’s head.

Beautiful.

Or, Zhongli discovers something new about his powers and gladly takes advantage of it.

Find it on Ao3!

A/N: Soo the thought process behind this fic was inspired by three different pieces of chili fanart I found on twitter (I'll link it in the end notes) and the concept that my mutual put in my head of Zhongli turning Childe's skin to gold whenever he touches him. My mutual is a genius. And uhhh initially I didn't expect this to turn explicit, but I just started typing and then suddenly they were going at it lol. But writing them super soft and cute is always such a pleasure, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)

But this was so fun to write! Definitely a good break from act vi bc damn that piece just doesn't want to be written right now. I have a collab with miss stereotypicallyasian on the way as well, a Naruto x Genshin crossover that I should be posting sometime toward the end of the week!

As soon as he wakes up, Zhongli finds his breath stuttering with a noticeable hollowness in his chest that he cannot quite describe.

Briefly, he supposes it is merely the effect of his gnosis being taken. But even with the core of his divinity gone, there still remains a vibrant energy coursing through his veins that buzzes with a level of excitement. It’s a nagging feeling, but it is the very thing that keeps him awake at night. Zhongli exhales, nice and slow, and allows the back of his head to press against the pillows he had propped up against the table. His hair is free from its usual hold and it spills across his shoulders in ribbons of black and gold.

He stretches his legs across the blankets he’s laid beneath him and wiggles his toes, flexes his fingers, twitches his nose. The wind around him responds in kind. Warm Liyuan air wafts through the room at the inn as the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the walls. Zhongli feels himself sink into the floor, melting into the plush pillows, and revels in the way he is being held down firmly by the weight in his lap that belongs to his beloved.

He’s been tired these days.

Only a week had passed after the incident with Osial and his official retirement as the Archon of Geo. Adjusting so far has been strange, and eerily enough, rather easy. Despite the new creaking in his joints and the mild back pain he never quite felt until now, he’s become rather fond of the quaint life he subconsciously built while he was living amongst his people.

And, well, Ajax’s presence made adjusting rather painless. The Harbinger staying by his side somehow made it easier to to cope with the gaping void in his chest.

Speaking of which, Ajax makes himself known by rolling over and shuffling closer, burying his face in his abdomen. The ex-Archon cracks an eye open and looks down at the smattering of red hair against his stomach. He can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Ajax,” he calls, voice a deep rumble from his temporary slumber, “it’s getting late. If you continue napping, you’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight.”

He’s answered with unintelligible mumbling, and the vibrations of Ajax’s voice tickles his stomach.

“What?” He breathes out a laugh.

“Xiansheng I don’t want to get uppp,” Ajax whines as he props his chin against Zhongli’s stomach. He wriggles closer, moving up higher in his lap until his face is pressed up against his chest. Zhongli cradles the back of his head lovingly, and softly runs a bare hand through ginger locks.

“You must, baobei,” Zhongli tugs on his hair gently, “also because I am getting quite hungry.”

Ajax makes a noise of indignance against him. The ginger looks up, ready to protest, but abruptly halts.

His eyes widened comically. Ajax stares at him like he had grown a second head, cerulean eyes tracing his every feature as if this was his first time ever seeing him. Any noise or complaint of being woken up dies on his lips as he’s suddenly speechless, any and all vocabulary suddenly void.

Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

“Xiansheng, you’re…” the ginger trails off breathlessly, “by the Gods, you’re beautiful.”

Zhongli sputters. “Well, I am flattered, truly, but--”

“Zhongli,” Ajax all but hisses. He brings a deft finger up to Zhongli’s hair, but doesn’t quite stop at his fringe. He reaches up, up, up and--

Ah.

Zhongli knows where this is going. This isn’t the first time this has happened.

Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

Beautiful.

“You’re…” he breathes, “I’ve never seen…”

“It has been a long time since I last let myself truly relax into this form.”

Ajax’s eyes flicker back down to his face as Zhongli’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. He’s met with eyes glowing bright as cor lapis, pupils almost narrowed into slits, and a few stray ebony scales.

“Woah…”

Once again with the curiosity of a child, Ajax reaches out to poke at the scales blooming across Zhongli’s skin. The ex-Archon tuts.

“My apologies, I was not aware that this much of me was visible—“

“Why are you apologizing?” Ajax demands, eyes darting up to his horns once more before locking onto his golden ones. “You’re beautiful, Xiansheng. I had no idea you could even do this.”

“Frankly, I am surprised, too,” Zhongli speaks honestly. Ajax looks at him, stunned. “I didn’t think this could happen without my gnosis. But life has been full of surprises lately, it seems.”

“What else could you do?” Ajax asks excitedly, shifting to where he was sitting up and laying on his side, curled around the latter. He rests against the incline of Zhongli’s body comfortably. They were still pressed against each other impossibly close, legs intertwining. Zhongli’s head presses against the pillow behind him, and Ajax stares at the horn-shaped indent in the cushion inquisitively. Zhongli is filled with an abrupt surge of affection at the sight. It has been a long time since someone looked at him with such fascination in this form. “Without your gnosis, I mean. Obviously you could do a lot with it.”

“I still have yet to see, Ajax, as it’s only been a week since I’ve lost it,” Zhongli murmurs. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from Ajax’s forehead. He presses the pad of his thumb against the growing frown lines developing between the ginger’s eyebrows. “How are you already developing wrinkles? You are still so young.”

“Mean!” Ajax pulls away, rubbing at the spot with the back of his hand. “Says the one who is six thousand years old! In fact I’m surprised you don’t have any wrinkles. Seriously, I’ve never even see you apply moisturizer before and—“

“Ajax,” Zhongli interrupts. This time, it’s his turn to stare at Ajax with astonishment. His eyes, bright and golden, burn a hole through the spot on Ajax’s forehead where Zhongli was just poking at. The ginger can’t help but strain to look up as if he could catch a glimpse of what the half-dragon was looking at. Cross-eyed, he just looked ridiculous. And confused. He was so, so confused.

“What, what?” Ajax asks anxiously. Zhongli stares at him still, wordlessly reaching up to touch him again. The dragon’s eyes soften, brushing a knuckle right across Ajax’s cheekbone, right underneath a blue eye. The Harbinger sees, then, the gold that shimmers right beneath his vision. Zhongli’s expression is nothing short of enamored, astonished, and downright entranced.

“Is your hand glowing?” he asks. Zhongli shakes his head, listening, but not really. His eyes trail across Ajax’s face, too focused on the path that his hand takes more than anything else. He continues drawing lazy patterns across Ajax’s cheek, and the gold seems to shine brighter. “Xiansheng, what is going on?”

“Your skin,” he begins slowly, voice lowered into a hush. Ajax has to strain to listen to him. “It seems to turn to gold where I touch.”

“W-what?” Ajax scrambles, but Zhongli places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s temporary, love, do not fret. The spot on your forehead has already disappeared.”

“Wait, wait, I wanna see!” Ajax demands, suddenly sitting up straight. Zhongli follows suit and corrects his posture, holding his palm out as an invitation.

“Give me your hand,” he commands gently. The latter complies, and places the back of his hand in the warmth of Zhongli’s own.

The ex-Archon uses the tip of his finger to trace patterns into his hand, and the skin underneath responds immediately to the touch. It glows an ethereal shade of gold that has Ajax blinking away the spots that form in his eyes from the brightness. And although it goes away as quickly as it comes, it still leaves a tingling feeling across his skin as it disappears. Zhongli doesn’t so much as flinch at the brightness, though, as he continues tracing letters, characters, symbols he’s never seen before, into the palm of Ajax’s hand. The ginger shivers at the touch. It’s so intimate— it’s too intimate— he feels like he’s going to pass out. He can feel an energy so divine being pressed into the palm of his hand, sinking in through his skin and spilling into his bloodstream. Ajax’s heart beat picks up, a newfound energy coursing through his veins.

It is a blessing that no one could ever even imagine receiving from Rex Lapis himself.

Because gnosis or not, the being before him was a deity too precious to be touching a soul as blackened as Ajax’s. And yet here he was, accepting such a heavenly gift from Teyvat’s oldest god.

Ajax almost wants to pull away, but it is his pure curiosity that keeps him in place.

Zhongli continues his trail up the Harbinger’s arm, and this time, he’s drawing flower petals that bloom from thin branches. They encroach upon the inside of his forearm, streaming along his veins as Zhongli draws petal after petal. The half-dragon is quick— quicker than the rate in which the golden lines disappear. He sketches the design of his flowers rapidly across his skin, all while maintaining his gentle hold on Ajax.

The human canvas has no choice but to sit and watch with awe as the design seems to come to life. Blue eyes follow gold, attracted like a moth to a flame, and Ajax is simply unable to look away from the art Zhongli creates on his skin of all things. Ajax’s skin, freckled and marred by years of fighting, is being turned into a work of art made for his eyes, and his eyes only.

Once again, Zhongli has done what has felt like the impossible.

But of course, all good things come to an end, and Zhongli stops. With a flick of his wrist, he tapers the tip of the last petal he draws before withdrawing his hand entirely. Ajax watches with the same level of fascination as the golden strokes vanish as if they were never even there. Yet still, Ajax’s skin tingles.

“Any chance you knew you could do that?” he speaks after awhile, voice uncharacteristically quiet, pensive.

“No,” Zhongli answers, eyes flickering back up to him. “But to be honest with you, I do not wish to stop.”

Ajax’s eyes widen at the statement. “What do you mean—“

Zhongli’s hands grip at Ajax’s hips as he pushes him backwards. The Harbinger gasps, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck for stability. Zhongli crowds him in an instant as soon as Ajax’s back hits the floor. The ex-Archon noses at his neck, peppering kisses along the line of his jugular and watching with dilated eyes as a trail of gold is left behind where his lips once were. The feeling that blossoms in his chest can only be described as some primal satisfaction as Ajax is marked with his stamp of gold.

“I cannot help but wonder,” Zhongli speaks quietly, “if your skin would turn to gold while touching all parts of me.” His voice drops a whole octave. If it was deep before, it was even deeper now, closer to a purr than anything. The sound rumbles through his chest, making Ajax shiver at the noise.

Ajax’s breath stutters. “Oh,” is all he manages to say.

“If you would indulge my curiosity so kindly,” Zhongli begins, voice breathy, “I’d like to see you glow in many other places.”

“Oh my god,” Ajax blushes a furious red, “you have such a way with words, Xiansheng! And just do me already, you’ve never had to ask before!”

“I’m just asking because in this form, I might be… slightly different in some places.” Zhongli’s ears burn red.

“Oh my god,” Ajax all but sobs, “shut up and get inside me old man, make me glow, or whatever.”

Zhongli grins and oh fuck he has fangs, of course he has fangs—

“As you wish.”

Ajax does a lot more than glow that night. In fact, he gets so much more than what he initially bargained for. The sun begins to set, but the darkness that befalls the room matters naught when Ajax is turned into a human lamp every time Zhongli touches him. And gods above, does he touch him.

When Zhongli kisses him, his head spins a little more. When clawed hands squeeze at his hips and almost break skin, his heart beats a little faster. When one, then two, then three oiled fingers slip past the tight rim of muscle with care and makes him grind his hips down impatiently, his breaths come a little shorter. And when Zhongli finally, finally slides in and makes him forget his own name, Ajax can’t help the broken moan that flies past his lips when he bottoms out.

Holy shit, Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he said he was built a little different.

Though, they probably needed to gloss over the definition of a little later tonight because apparently, a little meant an additional three whole inches in length and half an inch in girth. The newfound length brushes past places in Ajax’s body he never even knew existed, scratching an itch he wasn’t aware he had.

Was Ajax expecting to be taking his boyfriend’s dragon dick at nine at night when he was supposed to be having dinner? No. Was he going to take it anyway? Absolutely. And in retrospect, Ajax was faring just fine. He had his legs wrapped tightly around Zhongli’s waist and his hands tugging at his loose locks. The amber ends glow brighter at every pull and Ajax just holds onto the strands for comfort at this point.

Zhongli, on the other hand, had his eyes shut and was breathing hard through his nose.

“Xiansheng?” Ajax calls tentatively. He reaches a hand out to cup Zhongli’s cheek, and almost gets distracted by the luminance his hand emits as soon as he makes contact.

“I’m alright,” Zhongli says through gritted teeth, “I’m having trouble… regaining composure, is all.”

“What do you mean?” Ajax gasps when Zhongli’s hips flex.

“You…” he struggles, “are very tight. And. My senses are heightened in this form.”

Ajax smiles wickedly, and squeezes around him. Zhongli hisses, biting down hard on Ajax’s shoulder. His fangs almost break skin, but the ginger doesn’t even flinch.

“Let me on top,” he says instead, “I can set the pace.”

“That might be difficult,” Zhongli begins tentatively, “laying on my back may not be an option at the moment.”

“What? Why— oh, holy fuck.”

Lo and behold, a long, serpentine tail is laid out across the blankets and thumps once, twice, happily in place. It’s thicker at the base where it forms near Zhongli’s body, and smoothly tapers out until the end is covered in silky, golden locks. Ajax swears it sparkles. The hair flows so elegantly across their floor, Ajax almost has the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. And he would, if he currently wasn’t impaled and unable to move.

“... I apologize—“

“That is so hot,” Ajax almost weeps. “Please for the love of all Archons, Zhongli, Morax, I’m begging—ah!”

The lilt in his voice as he begs, whining the long lost name, has Zhongli moving before he can register what he’s doing.

Zhongli moves. He throws all caution to the wind and lets himself move recklessly without abandon. Ajax writhes beneath him and takes what he is given with gratitude, praying with breathless gasps and broken moans. Every noise that leaves his throat has Zhongli moving desperately for more. The light between them glows brighter, almost impossibly so, to where Ajax has to squeeze his eyes shut.

There's a moment where Zhongli grinds into him just right that sends Ajax crashing; his head is thrown back when he's all but forced to see stars, and his fingers scrabble to claw at Zhongli's skin for support. His back arches high off the bed and the ex-Archon uses the space to wrap a solid arm around Ajax’s lithe waist. He takes advantage of the bared neck in front of him and immediately noses at his pulse point, licking over the skin before sucking the flesh between his teeth.

They lose track of time in the throes of their own pleasure. At some point, the sun fully sets, but Zhongli continues to shove him down into the sheets relentlessly. Ajax on the other hand, takes it like a pro and continues to surprise Zhongli with his growing responsiveness. He takes and takes and Zhongli feels like he has no choice but to continue giving. The dance between them is elegant as much as it is animalistic, and Ajax loves it.

Zhongli bites down on his neck slightly, flexes his hips, and the breaking of Ajax’s pale skin and the relentless pressure against his neck has the ginger spilling between the tight press of their bodies. A dragon’s fangs, apparently, are by no means gentle and tear into his skin with ease. Yet, the blinding pain that sears through Ajax’s body sends him tumbling nonetheless. Zhongli fucks him through his orgasm, rutting against him until he tips over at the sound of Ajax's pitiful, overstimulated cries. He shudders as he empties into him, breathing hard against where his face is pressed into his neck.

They lay there for a moment; Zhongli tries to get his breathing under control, and Ajax tries to focus his vision after it had blurred during his climax. The ginger rakes his nails along Zhongli’s sweaty back, and the sensation brings them both back down from their high. Their breaths are heavy and labored, and Ajax can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips when he finally calms down, because holy shit. He’s going to want to do that every night, now.

Sometime amidst their fun, the golden glow had dimmed, until it all but disappeared.

"You suck," Ajax gasps after a moment, "you just ruined vanilla sex for me."

Zhongli snorts. "I don't suppose you expect me to morph every time you want to be intimate?"

Ajax's silence speaks volumes. It’s silent confirmation. The latter looks up, disgruntled. He looks so unamused, brows furrowed and everything, it makes Ajax chuckle and kiss the frown away.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, xiansheng," he waves him off, "the only thing I expect from you right now is for you to pull out, oh my god Zhongli, get out of me. You're like those huge dogs that think they can fit in your lap! You're not exactly small, mister Rex Lapis!"

"Oh, yes, my apologies," Zhongli murmurs. He presses a light kiss to Ajax's freckled shoulder before sliding out, muttering a quiet apology when he winces. He rolls off of Ajax and lays on his back next to him, so they're both staring up at the ceiling. His tail is gone and so are his horns, so he can finally lay on his back comfortably. Zhongli reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. He gets a squeeze in response.

“Say, xiansheng,” Ajax starts. “Have you ever been able to do that before?”

Zhongli looks at him, silently asking him to elaborate.

“Turn someone’s skin to gold, I mean. With something as simple as touch, too. Has that ever happened?”

“No,” he answers simply, “I believe this was the first occurrence in my six thousand years of being alive.”

Ajax hums. “So I’m not like. Going to die or anything, right?”

“Why would you die, baobei?” Zhongli chuckles, “you act as if I injected poison into your bloodstream.”

Ajax lets out an indignant squawk. “I! Am still kind of new to the whole dating a god thing! I don’t know what special abilities you adepti hold. And I am a mere mortal, after all!”

The reminder has Zhongli looking at him with sudden sadness. “That you are.”

Ajax hums and offers a small, resigned smile before letting his eyes slide shut. He gave into the exhaustion, it seems.

He’s already dozing off, and his head is tipping slightly to the left. He’s all but slumped into the comforters beneath him, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath he takes. He’s mildly aware that he’s going to have to wake him to clean him up in a few minutes, though, but he allows his lover to rest for a moment. The whirring void in his chest— the one that constantly reminded him of his lost power— finally, finally settles.

Zhongli watches with fascination as the human in front of him continues to glow. The gold is gone, though. Zhongli has shifted back into his mortal form and skin to skin contact no longer summons the bright golden light that was there before.

Still, Ajax’s skin seems to glow a little brighter than usual. His cheeks are tinted pink and his lips are slightly parted, still plump and swollen from his bruising kisses. Zhongli swears he can see a light blue aura surrounding the lines of Ajax’s body. His chest fills with something warm and pleasant at the sight, thick like the syrup that runs through the veins of Liyue’s trees. It trickles throughout his entire body, down into his core, down his legs and to his arms. Zhongli no longer feels empty. He smiles fondly.

For those that live too long, the friends of days gone by and scenes from their adventures live on in their memories. As such, I have no regrets in meeting you, Ajax. Should the day ever come that we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories.

Fanart #1

Fanart #2

Fanart #3

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#genshin impact #tartali #tartaglia #childe #ajax #zhongli #rex lapis #chili #targlex chapis #i'm unironically using that tag now #idiots in loveeee #dragon zhongli #part dragon zhongli #newfound dragon powers mhm mhm #childe gets ROCKED #genshin impact fanfiction #tartali fanfic

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

Text

LoL Chapter 53- Rescue

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Grian is at the mercy of Dolios and his dark magic, but are the hermits there to save him in time? Or has the end come for the healing mage?

[Note: Hey everyone, I’m sorry for the time that was between chapters. A lot of really emotional and personal things happened over the past few months, and it just really pushed me off balance. But I really cant thank Red enough for being at my side the whole time- he’s the real hero in all of this.

Happy Season 8!]

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To be back in the dark, cold bowels of the dungeons, willingly returning to the chamber that Dolios forced them to play his game in, left every hermit with a strange mix of dread and remorse. Almost every hermit, except for the few that weren’t around during the championship, can remember waking up in cells, being dragged from the hard stone floor at knifepoint, and turned into pawns for Dolios to control. Promising he will kill every last one in his game, and making TFC play along.

But they hardly linger in the very chamber where their guildmaster outwitted the Magistrate of Lairyon, rather continuing on their search for a passage to the subchamber. Scar can feel the cavity in the stone beneath their feet, but no staircase seems to lead them down. It wasn’t until Cleo summoned the ghosts of those who died here, their souls lingering, that they are pointed in the right direction. So many souls, having seen so much suffering, not just from Dolios within these walls, though many are from his doing.

A ghost guides the hermits to a circular room, and though their voice has long faded with time, their misty hands point to the center of the room. Mumbo kneels down. “There’s machinery here. If I just…” He places his hands against the smooth stone, and without even having to think, his magic appears. Redstone seeping through the seams of the rock, reconfiguring the mechanics and forcing the spiral staircase to descend.

Everyone, including Mumbo, is surprised by his power. He’s never had such control before in his life. But they don’t linger on this new development. Not when time is running shorter and shorter for Grian. They cause a jam in the thin staircase, twenty something hermits rushing to the subchamber. Unlike the rooms above them, the stone is rough cut, no bricks or stenciling. It looks more like a cave blown open than a carved dungeon.

A heavy weight wraps in on the hermits. They know they’re close as the pressure increases on their bodies. They follow the struggle to breathe, the feeling of carrying stones on their back. They’ve come to know the signs of a dark crystal well- and it leads them right to not one, but three towers of corrupted gems.

They’re massive, protruding from the ground at an angle, black spikes erupting from the earth. The air is heavy with mist, swirling in tendrils, like the very tentacles of Eurynomos, way back in the forest. The mist grasps the open air, siphoning the very life from the stone and oxygen and taking it for itself. Every so often, a pulse of darkness bursts from the corrupted crystals, with such force it causes the entire cavern to shudder, and blows back the hermits’ hair and clothes. They all duck with each explosion, but one person remains standing, reveling in the energy that's breaking free from the crystals.

Dolios’s fingers toy with the mist, grasping the air and feeling the power. With each eruption, the black seal between him and the central crystal glows. For a second, the hermits swear they can see the mist at his back look almost...feather-like.

“Oh my gods… Grian.” Stress’s voice is so small, so quiet, the other hermits almost don’t hear it. But their captured friend’s name on anyone’s lips is enough to catch their attention.

He’s grey, so monochrome that it was almost impossible to pick him out among the black crystals, the grey mist, and the dark magic. Limp body and hands, eyes open but unseeing, Grian is chained to the central crystal. Once blond hair, now an ashen grey, curls and crests over Grian’s face, his chin dropped to his chest. The hermits don’t breathe until they see him do so, but it’s a horribly shallow breath. Another wave of energy rolls through the crystals, and Grian’s body loses more of its color. More of it’s life. At this point, he hardly even reacts to the tearing of his lifeforce, his magic, from his body. Fingers twitch, but even those are beginning to turn flaky, fading away into oblivion. The tips of his once blue cape become little more than mist. Even the energy, the powers of the very atoms are being torn apart. Grian was very near death- or a fate worse.

All for Dolios, and his insatiable need for power. The low thunder of every wave is broken by Dolios’s voice. He flexes his hands, laughing to himself. “Of all the angels I’ve stolen magic from before, it has never been this strong. Even Celia had nothing against you. I feel like I could blow all of Milliara apart with a windstorm this instant! Don’t worry, little bird, your magic is in good hands.”

Iskall and Mumbo both scuffle to their feet, surging forward. Mumbo faster than Iskall. Too fast for TFC to grab him before he’s over the boulder they hid behind. And too fast to stop even his own magic from summoning. But it wasn’t the out of control magic that the hermits have seen before. Like destroying the crystal shard on Eremita, or in the depths of the Hangman’s Playground.

No, even though lightning filled Mumbo’s vision, and magic surged through his veins like energy through a redstone circuit, he had every wit and thought about him. For the first time, he had true, full control. Every iota of power was at his command, like a dragon spreading it’s wings for it’s first flight across the sky.

With a flippant wave of his hand, the twin satellite crystals shatter, red bolts of lightning creasing through the darkness-bound lattice. The air is filled with glittering crystals, mist freed from the quartz and purging it of the darkness. Mumbo turns his power, his attention towards the crystal that Grian’s chained to, and presses his fingers together to destroy the last crystal.

He’s blown off his feet, a burst of wind from nowhere sending him skidding across the floor. When Mumbo gathers his wits and looks up, finally seeing Dolios through his anger, the magistrates is wild with manic delight. “Oh, now that’s real magic. I think this little bird’s powers might become my new favorite.” The other hermits dare to step out, walking through the shattered, transparent remains of the crystals. Dolios is the only color before them, his plush robes and rich colors standing out against the swirling magic. “Ah, the whole parade is here. Come to watch your friend die? Or will you all be joining him as well?”

Dolios turns, resting his gaze on Grian. The hermits watch in horror as their healer looks as if he’s about to blow away in the wind. Like dust in the shape of a human. His eyes are empty, no glimmer of life left. They realize they may be too late.

But that doesn’t stop them from getting their revenge. Mumbo remains focused on the crystal his friend is trapped against, but a sharp shard of gemstone goes flying through the air, cracking Dolios upside the head. Blood pours from the wound, matting the curly brown hair that crowns Dolios. He turns, anger mixing with the mania into a dangerous concoction. But his fury doesn’t get to live long, not when Scar drives a wedge of rock into Dolios’s jaw. This time it’s the magistrate that goes skidding across the rough hewn floor. In his attempt to stand up, Dolios becomes ensnared in just about every medium of magic the hermits can offer. Vines tie him down, radioactive spikes pin his clothes and hair to the floor, a ring of hellfire erupting from the depths of the earth.

Mumbo, however, remains focused on his best friend before him. Summoning all his magic, every ounce of effort he’s ever put forth, he sends a bolt of lightning directly to the core of the crystal that is draining Grian. The lightning strikes true, hardly even raising a hair on what remains of the sky angel, but obliterating the crystal he hangs from. From the inside out, the darkness is banished by red light, like the sun rising red on a bright, beautiful daybreak. Blinding everyone within the cave- except Mumbo. He’s not lost in the light, the power, the magic. He’s a part of it all.

The crystal shatters, and Grian falls. Crumpled to the ground, he looks to be little more than a pile of ash and rags among the sparkling crystal shards. Like the moon adrift in the sea of stars.

When the hermits blink away their momentary blindness, they find Mumbo is already at his friend’s side. With a few teary blinks, the last of the lightning fizzles away, and Mumbo’s voice cracks like the very gems he destroyed. “G-Grian? Grian, wake up.”

But Grian doesn’t move. Mumbo reaches out, grabbing the angel and pulling him to the safety of the hermits. Holding him close as the others surround. Ren reaches out, placing a hand on Grian’s shoulder. He retreats immediately, when Grian’s shoulder seems to fade from existence, flaking to ash and falling apart under Ren’s pressure. “Is he….”

No one dares speak the word. Joe scribbles down a healing poem, but the magic does nothing. Grian doesn’t breathe, his eyes don’t blink. They just stare, empty, at the cavern roof above. And he continues to fade, all color lost, becoming nothing more than dust.

“No, nononononono.” Mumbo’s words stumble and jumble together, and he shakes and jolts Grian as if trying to rise him from a dream. “Grian, don’t leave us! We need you!”

Still nothing.

Mumbo’s shoulders slump. A weight heavier than any dark crystal hangs over the hermits as Grian’s limp form lays in Mumbo’s arms before them. Tears threaten to spill from Mumbo’s eyes. Grian was his first real friend, the one who saved him all those years ago. And he couldn’t return the favor now. It was Grian that offered him kindness, offered him friendship. Grian who gave Mumbo a true family, a real home, who trained with him even when all seemed hopeless, and drank with him when nights were bright. It was because of Grian that Mumbo has a father in TFC, friends all around him. And now?

Now his best friend was dead in his arms. Fading from existence, his magic and life stolen by a monster in magistrate’s clothes. Mumbo tips his head, breath stuttering as tears fall freely. Like a stream after a storm, rivers of salt water across his cheeks, cresting his jaw and running across the valley of his throat. Some droplets are caught in his mustache, others stain the collar of his outfit. All the hermits openly cry, even Doc. Memories flood alongside the tears, bowed heads over their fallen comrade as Mumbo holds his fallen friend tight.

One tear falls straight down, landing with a wet plop on Grian’s eyelid. Water, the lifeblood of Lairyon, slowly drips into Grian’s own vacant eyes. And from the ashen grey, empty gaze, a single vein of blue appears within his iris.

Like a river, the blue flows freely, spilling across Giran’s sky blue eyes. Filling the empty grey valley with fresh blue water. And from the blue, like the sun reflecting off the see, a glimmer appears.

Iskall noticed the color returning first. The pink of Grian’s face, sunlight colored hair beginning to renourish with color. Bringing Grian slowly back from death’s doorstep. He slaps Mumbo on the shoulder, his own breath gasping. Words struggling to break free from the nuclear wizard’s mouth, rather just random noises escaping his lips.

It’s enough to get Mumbo’s attention, as well as every other hermit. Through teary eyes, they see the color spread. The red of Grian’s robes, the blue of his cape. The translucent, flaking form becomes solid and tangible again.

And then Grian breathes. So shallow and soft, it’s almost impossible to see. But to the hermits, it might as well be an earth breaking tremble. Eyes blink, and parted lips move. A whisper of a voice breaks free from death’s grip. “Mumbo? Iskall? Guys?”

Grian can’t sing, but the words from him might as well be a chorus of angels. He was alive. Whether it was pure luck, the gift of life that water carries, or simply the friendship the hermits hold, something brought Grian back from the brink.

Only one thing can break the joy. And that one thing has to open his mouth. From across the room, Dolios writhes in his bonds, snering. “Oh that’s just touching, isn’t it? If I can’t have it all, then I might as well kill every last one of you.”

Doc realizes what’s happening first, but Dolios is just out of reach. A bout of strength that can only be attributed to previously stolen magic, Dolios tears apart the vines and breaks apart the crossed spears of iskallium. He stands, brushing off leaves and radioactive dust from his robes and tugging on his ponytail. When he opens his eyes, a crooked, crazed grin creases the leader’s normally charismatic face. “Do you really think such weak power can hold me down?”

Wels reacts just in time to shield the hermits from the arc of magic that aimed for the group. Dolios doesn’t let up on his barrage, and the magical barrier begins to crack and contort against the dark energy. No hermit can step out from behind the shield without risking certain death.

A wild, cackling laughter echoes off the cavern. “What will you roaches do without your precious angel now? Who will save you now?”

Wels’s barrier breaks. And Dolios attacks.

#hermitcraft #mcyt #hermitcraft au #wizard hermits #wizard au #light of lairyon #lol #mcyt au #wizard grian #wizard mumbo #wizard iskall #wizard scar #wizard Doc #grian #grianmc #mumbo jumbo #iskall85 #gtwscar #docm77

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Onyx tells Mc she’s pregnant. They hosts a party for everyone to announce of Onyx’s pregnancy. How they announce it and how everyone react are up to you!

Written by @evoedbd

“Hey babe. Welcome back. How was your outing with Na-” the cheer fell from Cali’s voice, as heavy and rapidly as a brick dropped from a skyscraper. Her heartbeat picked up, even as the feeling of led seeped into every limb, dragging her consciousness towards what felt like a tar pit. Sticky, dooming, encasing.

“Onyx?” She called, brow furrowing as she tried to reconcile the woman who had walked through the door with the usual upbeat, unstoppable Onyx Wren. This woman appeared ashen, pearlescent white save for the usual shadings of her makeup, and the veins running blue beneath her icy skin. Long, flowing blonde hair hung in clumps, tangled around the streaks of meadow green like weeds attempting to devour the most beautiful flowers. Where life had once shone in oceanic green eyes, now there was a dullness, a glazing that only emphasized emptiness. Worse, shoulders which could bare the weight of the world slumped, chained down along with the woman’s feet. No. Onyx’s feet weren’t chained down, they were dragging, as if the act of taking a stride was too much to comprehend yet the need for familiarity and comfort drove the zombie like body onwards.

“Are you ok?” A questioned filled with trepidation. Already, Cali could see that Onyx Wren was absolutely not alright. She could feel it. Sticky hands of a hoard all dragging at her through the bond, making the world entirely too much.

Internally, she fought a war, crossing a list off silently in her search for solutions. What could have hurt Onyx this badly?

A fight with Nahara? Doubtful. Onyx loved that woman, and Nahara had earned that affection. Her hugs were too perfect, rejuvenating and secure. How Cali imagined sinking into a pool of warmed honey or melted chocolate might feel like.

Dorran? Oh, Cali had so many things she could say about him, respect for the dead be damned. Cali was absolutely convinced, out of everyone who had ever existed or ever would, that he was the most deserving the title of Jerk. Lord Jerkington the Gaslighting abuser, the third. Anybody who could do half of what he had done to Onyx whilst claiming to love her, whilst she trusted her body and soul to his romance… Cali couldn’t conceive a punishment fitting enough his horrendous crimes. Her anger had nowhere to go. No conclusion. Nothing dark and despicable enough to bring justice or pay penance. All she could do was vow never to allow Onyx to suffer that ever again.

Vinca? That was delicate ground too, and not an unrealistic conclusion. Cali’s personal grudges aside, after-all Onyx’s twin had turned Cali into a well of supernatural energy with the potential to unleash hell on Earth, Vinca had played her villainous role well. Cali still could trace the numerous scars across Onyx’s body, from throat to gut, which Vinca had left. Also, Vinca had technically gutted Onyx, though she had been possessed by Nizha at the time. Cali wasn’t too sure she could ever erase that image from behind her closed eyes. Or her nightmares.

“I’m pregnant.” Onyx’s voice was so small, so broken and confused. If Cali hadn’t been watching and listening intently, she might have mistaken those words for a breath. Or the aircon.

“… you’re…” The word fell from Cali’s lips on a shocked breath. Well. Babe had definitely been the wrong pet name to use. Suddenly nothing made sense. Her stomach fell out yet her body seemed ready to float to the ceiling, all whilst her nerves suffered a rapid fire mix of dreadful numbness and prickling tingles flowing across her skin to match the static ringing in her ears and pinging around her head.

“I’m so sorry! Please don’t be mad. I’ll be good! I w-won’t disobey o-o-or mess up.” The panic in Onyx’s voice cut Cali to the bone. Onyx fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her abdomen and torso as her shoulders curled inwards. She trembled, green eyes gazing up at Cali as if she were a terrifying Goddess preparing to render judgement upon a defiler. Cali shuddered. Who would want such worship as what Onyx was offering in the moment? Senseless, all-consuming fear? In that moment, Cali realised she could never be an abuser. There was no power in Onyx’s terror, only revulsion. Revulsion that Onyx felt she had to be subservient like this. That her trust had ever been so broken that her default was to cower like a beaten dog, still lovingly licking its own blood from the master’s knuckles.

“I didn’t mean for this, I swear. I-I ca-”

Cali couldn’t listen anymore.

“Onyx. Hey, hey, hey. Shhh, it’s ok. Breathe with me, sweetheart. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She cooed, collapsing to her own knees before Onyx. The moment she could reach, Cali gently cupped her hands around Onyx’s elbows, tenderly guiding the smaller woman a little closer.

“Reach for me through the bond, how do I feel?” Imploring words were accompanied by every joyful image Cali could summon at that moment. The mewls of kittens, the softness of a puppy’s fur. Seeing Onyx recognise her, even as a dragon. Flying. Watching Onyx fly, be it with the wings of a dragon or across a tightrope in human form. Freedom, beauty, power. Family.

Cali’s heart picked up a marching sprint, beating so rapidly she was positive someone could visibly see her pulse throbbing in her throat if they spared a glance. Pregnant meant baby, which meant children. Onyx. Baby. Onyx. Baby. Onyx’s baby… each time Cali managed to conceive the sentence her heart skipped another beat, beat faster and faster until she was positive her heart would burst. Onyx was having a baby. An actual baby!

“You’re… you’re not mad? You’re happy? B-”

“Onyx. You’re pregnant! How could I not be excited?” Cali began as she lured Onyx to her feet. The former Envy assassin surrendered herself to Cali’s guidance, relaxing even in her confusion. Cali was incredibly careful, her touch remaining delicate, as if she might taint the innocence within Onyx if she moved a single finger incorrectly. Yet, there was also no fear to Cali’s touch. She knew Onyx, just as she knew her own breath. She offered comfort, unconditional support, even without having uttered the words.

“I’m nervous too.” She confessed, finally lowering herself and Onyx onto the couch.

“I mean there are so many things to think about. Is it safe? I mean, what effects on the baby will your dragon side have? Will you lay an egg? I mean, can your body even handle that in human form? Will you be human form for the birth? Who even is the father?”

“I didn’t cheat! I’d never do that to you. Please, you have to believe me.” Onyx’s frantic tone was matched by frantic hands which desperately clutched at Cali. She clung to Cali’s forearm, both forcing Cali to remain close whilst also preparing to defend herself. Green eyes filled with tears, a mix of panic and guilt, dappled with layers of confusion. Despite all of that, Cali saw sincerity. She felt the truth of those words as if they were her own heartbeat.

“Onyx, babe… you died. You died in my arms and came back as a Dragon. Cheating never even crossed my mind. There are some insane magical circumstances that my medical training doesn’t cover. Even if you had cheated or if something had happened, I wouldn’t be angry. I wouldn’t be him. You love me, I believe it with all my heart. Nothing anybody can say or do will make me love you or this baby any less.”

“I didn’t cheat.” Onyx reiterated; her voice much softer yet no less vehement. Her hands surrendered their grasp on Cali, allowing the Asian woman to weave her fingers through Onyx’s. The warmth of her callused hands was enough to earn a soft sigh, though neither woman could confirm who it was from.

“I believe you. D-did somebody hurt you? Onyx, babe, did somebody force himself on you?” The words burnt Cali’s tongue. Bile threatened to rise in her throat. The thought of someone doing that to Onyx. Without the guise of a relationship to force his will, to satiate perverted desires… Cali couldn’t… she couldn’t even imagine it, until she could. From a mental blank, to images of a broken Onyx. To memories of her screams morphed into something entirely different, fitting a different scenario. It was enough to make Cali tremble with fear, revulsion and a rapidly rising tide of rage.

“Nothing happened. Nobody r-” Onyx hesitated, unable to utter the devastating word flashing in Cali’s worst fears.

“- did that.”

“Thank goodness. Then, do you know how this happened?” The gentle question was delivered after a breath of utter relief. Knowing Onyx was safe from that abuse, safe from one of the most brutal of Earthly horrors mankind had ever weaponized, helped untangle the tension in Cali’s aching chest. Her heart stopped seizing in her chest, resuming its marathon sprint.

“I don’t know. Nahara said something about consequences and the past.”

“Rebirth. That was when she was talking about the bond of deceased Envy and the barer of the bite. The possibility of physical manifesta-“ Cali stopped dead. Her mind leapfrogged over the words, gathering them into a net of logic so obscure yet so plausible it felt as if she’d been punched unconscious and now was waking up. Waking to a world where mortal logic no longer applied, and the furthest dreams could come true.

“Oh fuck… Onyx..?” Cali didn’t know if she spoke, only that Onyx’s face pinched in concern. No, not concern. Fear. The murkiness reclaimed clear beauty, obscuring it for all who wished to bathe. It nearly broke Cali to see Onyx shrink, yet her small voice shattered Cali’s heart into smithereens; sent those shards digging into every vein until Cali’s body throbbed with how wrong it was.

“Please don’t get angry.” Onyx whispered, flinching as if expecting Cali to scream. Cali couldn’t. All she could do was go over the basics of Nahara’s theories. A physical manifestation of the bond between Envy, Deceased and Barer of the bite. An echo of the past. The lost reclaimed as new.

“Mine? Ours? Is this..?” Cali begged, she wasn’t and never would be afraid to admit it. Such a glistening possibility was at her fingertips, and she dared reach, hoping against hope itself that the impossible had become even the improbable. A thousand to one? Hell, even a million to one was more than enough. Cali would take any and all chance. Hers. Theirs. A chance to see how she and Onyx may appear a thousand years down the line, a notch in the human species. Proof they had existed, that their coupling had existed. Cali wasn’t dumb enough to consider a baby proof of love, not alone, but also it was. It would be. No matter whether or not that million to one chance was recognized.

“I- I don’t know. It’s possible, probably. I mean, magic? I need to talk to Nahara to find out more. I… it was overwhelming to hear I actually was pregnant and can’t let the dragon out. I just needed time. Needed to talk to you. It could be a manifestation of our bond, or it is something from the past.”

“Dorran.” The name fell from Cali’s lips like a bullet dropped from a tower into the cooling lakes. Oh, how it longed to be thrown like garbage, just as the darkest parts of Cali longed to throw the actual man into a trash compactor and hear him squeal.

“This could be his baby too.” She voiced her conclusion. Even as the words escaped, she felt no change in her heart. There was… she hated the man, she hated the power he had abused over Onyx, just as she hated the idea of him continuing to. Yet, for the baby? For that possibility? Nothing. No hatred, no resentment. No matter how she searched for it. She couldn’t confess how deeply that shocked her. Emotionally, everyone always hoped that they’d accept their partner’s children as their own, but the actuality of that often defied dreams. It was a rare person who could accept such a thing, even in Cali’s situation. To find herself even potentially one of them was humbling, too much, too quickly. Diversion needed.

“That’s one hell of a choice. A dead man, unknown entity, or a key to the gates of hell.” Cali made the understatement of the century after a quiet hissing whistle through her teeth. Remarkably, her tone remained as light as she intended the delivery to be, as if she was discussing what to order for lunch.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Le-” Cali couldn’t even finish the word. Her body moved on instinct, launching into Onyx’s space so that she could gather the smaller woman into her arms. Leave? Onyx couldn’t leave! No, her brain quickly caught up and corrected her internal malfunction. Onyx’s voice had been so small, the chirp of a bird compared to the roar of a dragon. Regardless, Cali was determined to provide shelter, to cage the willing Onyx within her loving embrace.

“Onyx, you died, I thought I’d never see you again. That I might never have another moment with you, even as you were reforming. Now, I’ll get to watch a baby Onyx Wren grow up! How could I be angry? I don’t care if this child is Dorran’s. Hell, even the Devil himself could be the father and I wouldn’t care. I want to be with you.”

“Even with a baby? A baby you didn’t plan, who m-might not even be yours.” Onyx’s words were serious, more so than any Cali had ever heard escape her gentle lips. They were warning, they were a siege to push Cali away even as Onyx hoped to keep her close. It was the last offering, the final out. Cali understood. Her answer here would shape her life. This answer couldn’t be about comforting Onyx, no matter her urges. It had to be truthful, no matter the pain, no matter…

“Yes.” It was the easiest answer Cali had ever given in her life.

“Onyx, we aren’t naturally biologically compatible for reproduction.” Cali’s obvious assessment earned a watery snort from Onyx.

“Whenever I daydreamed of having children, they were always yours. I was already committed to being a mother to any pet or child you had, to being with you. I want this baby to be ours, I want that more than anything.” Cali had to pause, to actually breathe and let her words sink in. Her chest hurt from how hard her heart was pounding, for how she longed for Onyx to want the same things.

“I’m here and ready to be whatever you need me to be for you both. If you don’t want me to be there as the other parent, I can be the cool aunt. Or a friend. Or a babysitter. Anything, Onyx.” Cali concluded, laying her offering out for Onyx to pick through. Silence dominated the room, save for Cali’s hurried breathing and the pounding of matching heartbeats. Or two heartbeats. Did baby have a heartbeat yet? How far along was Onyx? She made a mental note to ask.

“If you want to be, you know, their mom, then I’d love that too.” Onyx finally broke the silence with a soft yet sure voice, a shy smile tugging on her lips. Cali couldn’t help it, she leapt to her feet, letting forth an excited cheer. Finally, all her nerves burst forth, erupting in her version of a triumphant roar. This was HER family. Hers. Hers, hers, hers!

“There’s nobody else I’d rather raise a baby with. Nobody has ever supported me like you. I just don’t want to take your life away, or be a burden.” Onyx continued, reaching up to tuck some of her chaotic hair out of her face.

“Onyx, this isn’t about supporting you regardless of my own feelings. You’re not taking my life away; you’re giving me a life to fight for. A family. Onyx, our family! You’re having a baby, Onyx! It’s a BABY Onyx! Baby! Yours. Maybe mine. Maybe ours. I feel… just feel me, Onyx! Baby! You’re having a baby!” Cali tried to remain calm and mature, she truly did, yet the urge to move overcame her senses. She paced back and forth, using her entire body to emphasize her points. Big, sweeping gestures of her arms accompanied her escalating excitement, turning her into a goofy rendition of a car yard inflatable.

“Yeah. A baby. You… Sweetheart, can you sit down? Just watching you is tiring.” Onyx’s request was accompanied by a summery laugh, one which calmed Cali for all but three seconds. Then, it was back to pacing, phone whipped out of the pocket of her jean shorts so that she could begin to compose her list.

“Onyx, BABY! A baby! Our baby! We have to tell the others! I’m sorry but no more training for you! Also, none of the trash Darius calls food. We should probably look into supplements too, so that the baby is as healthy as possible. Should I call a dietitian for a food plan? And materials! Are you going to make your own maternity clothes? I got paid this week so I could totally go get some fabrics if you te-”

“Y-you want to tell the others?” Onyx cut in, alarm flooding her tone. Cali froze for a second, recognizing the way Onyx’s surprised voice dipped. Oh, Cali realized, she was behaving entirely differently to anything Onyx had experienced. To how Dorran had reacted. That was enough to have Cali’s internal beast snarling, hating how the past continued to hurt. Dorran had insisted on secrecy, on punishing Onyx. Increasing her training, increasing his bullying. Afterall, that had been cheaper than birth control, or a medically safe… Cali couldn’t finish the thought.

“Of course! Onyx, you’re pregnant! This is like one of the happiest days of my life! Top five, for sure! I’m trying to think of everything we need so that we can be ready for this baby. Like, we need to look into our insurance. I don’t think my workplace insurance covers sexy mamma’s who can turn into dragons. Or Assassins. Is there supernatural insurance I need to know about? Are there any doctors for, well, non-normal human pregnancies? Are there any magical medical guides for this? And birthing classes. We need to look into those too!”

“We…” The pondering tone Onyx used broke Cali out of her packing, leading her to look up from her phone.

“… Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just sinking in, you know? It’s really nice to hear you say it. It sounds right.” Onyx explained, her face taking on a dreamy grin. She was so beautiful, glistening in the afternoon sun through the skyscraper windows. Even messy, Cali couldn’t think of anything more captivating than Onyx. Not the sirens of legend, not the most handsome of men. She doubted if the entire troupe, who were the most attractive people she knew, walked in naked that she’d be able to take off of Onyx.

“It feels right.” She confessed in a soft tone, unable to raise her voice above a whisper. The light in Onyx’s eyes… Cali had never seen something so pure. Green, like gazing up the sun through the underside of a wave. The gleam in them was more varied than a kaleidoscope of colours; brighter than diamonds. She had to look away, while her brain still had some function. There was so much that needed to happen, too many lists to write. Lists! That was a good place to start. Cali could do lists. She helped with stock intake, so a simple list on her phone would be a piece of cake! Oh, and her mother! She had to text her mother. Maybe there were some spare books…

“So, I’m going to text mom about getting some medical books out of storage. I’m pretty sure we didn’t sell all of them. They might have some more details on pregnancy. We have to come up with a way to justify everything, maybe we should discuss giving her sight. I’d prefer not telling her we’re fighting demons though. She’d absolutely spit if her daughter in-law was caught in that! Especially since you’re carrying her grandchild! I’d never live it down if I let you fight in your condition. It’d be “Cali, why are you making your girlfriend do everything? She’s pregnant! My grandbaby needs to grow!””

“Grandchild?” Onyx interrupted Cali’s exaggerated impression of her mother. Gone was the kaleidoscope, gone were the diamonds. The wave had crashed down, sending Onyx flailing into the wild tides of her worst fears without anything to hold her.

“She won’t hate me? She wouldn’t ever believe this child could be yours without knowing everything. She’ll assume I cheated. She’ll think I broke your trust and you’re just standing by me because you’re, well, you. You’re too good to walk away from somebody as broken as me.”

“Onyx, I love you. You are the most… I can’t put it into words. You are my… My light. You are not broken, Onyx. You are a literal dragon. Fierce, strong and beautiful. I am so in love with you that I cannot picture my life without you. This feels like my child already. You’ve only just told me and already I feel as if my heart will burst. Surely you can feel how much I already love them.” Cali almost pleaded, kneeling before Onyx. The current Envy assassin reached out, laying a single hand over Onyx’s quivering knee. Cali could feel everything, the tidal wave of anxiety and fears striking so hard and fast that she was almost physically knocked over. She countered, her mind parrying and weaving.

Pizza in a secret alleyway shop, the way hot cheese melted in her mouth, or the strings hanging from Onyx’s smiling lips. Little hands reaching, trying to steal pineapple as Onyx laughed. This was happiness. Love. Safe, secure, keeping their baby proceeded against her chest. So small, yet inspiring something so large. She had to protect, she needed to. Protect both the joys of her life.

The simple concept of the future flowed through their bond, a shield for Onyx to seek shelter behind. Cali herself was blown away by the intensity of her emotions for a distant possibility.

“I can.” Onyx breathed; tone full of wonder.

“I don’t know why I keep questioning you. You’re always kind and sweet. “

“People have hurt you, Onyx. I’d rather you question me a thousand times, a million times, than ever feel unsafe with me. I love you, and Mom can see how much more me I am with you in my life.” Cali insisted, fixing Onyx with an encouraging look before continuing.

“We had the talk when I told her I was bi. About if I ended up with a girl. We talked again after she met you, officially that is. I told her as long as I was with you, at least one grandchild would not be biological. If we even had children. She fully supports my choices and will love this baby with all her heart. She’ll probably spoil them rotten no matter what we say. She already loves you too! You’re the favourite daughter. She’s going to be so excited for her grandchild. Be prepared for a LOT of baby onesie- OH, this one’s cute! Onyx look!” Cali tried to remain serious, she truly did. Yet, curiosity had taken hold and her thumb had all but developed a mind of its own. Soon, she found herself glancing down at her phone, only to see a lovely pastel themed website, filled with baby onesies. Upon spotting a bear on the third row, she excitedly turned her phone to Onyx, which earned an actual squeal of delight.

“Oh my god, that looks like a little Ripley onesie!” Onyx cooed excitedly, leaning closer to support the phone. She couldn’t help but internally swoon over the adorable little bear onesie, complete with little pink pads on the feet. The little hood with adorable little ears, and the stomach patch. The tail, which concealed the buttons for easy changing.

“Right? I’m buying it! Ohh, it comes in purple! Should I get a little leopard?” Cali declared, reclaiming her phone and swiftly adding two versions of the bear to the cart. When Onyx didn’t respond, she paused, turning her gaze to the expectant mother.

“Onyx? Are you ok? Don’t you like them?” Cali asked, her voice going quieter. Once more, Onyx looked so small, trembling in the face of everything. Overwhelmed, Cali realized. Onyx was entirely overwhelmed.

“Cali. They’re both adorable. I’m just scared. How can you be sure Joyce will be ok with this?”

“Err, It’s my mom. She’ll just be thrilled to have a grandchild, no matter if they are biological or not.” Cali responded, unable to fully put into words how she knew. It was simple. It was her mom. Her mom who had supported her throughout life. Her interest in extreme sports, every bump, break and bruise. Her mom had been the first signing her casts, and selling the demon contraptions that damaged her daughter. When Cali’s father had walked out, her mom had been there, fighting to support a child emotionally and financially whilst she herself fell apart. Through teenage heartbreaks. When Cali hadn’t gotten a date for prom, it was her mother who had shoehorned her into a suit and driven her there. When Cali had finally come out as bisexual, her mom had been the first one demanding to know what type of girls Cali liked, gossiping about the boys Cali had only ever expressed interest in.

“But what if they come out with wings? Or, you know, not human?”

“Aside from me being worried how you’ll push that out of a hole the size of a lemon?” Cali questioned with a blink.

“Cali!” Onyx squealed in a mix of disbelief and horror. Her hands came up to her face, covering her suddenly flaming cheeks as she let forth an ungodly groan. Cali couldn’t help but be reminded of Ripley, how the bear concealed her muzzle when Onyx flew across the tightrope.

“Oh god, I don’t want to think about what its going to do to my… well, you know.”

“You’ll still be gorgeous, even if things are a bit different. You know, when I picture mom you, you’re always stunning. I can’t help but think our daughter will be scared her boyfriends will run off with her sexy mamma. You’ll turn into the sexiest MILF.” Cali purred, flopping onto the couch beside Onyx once again with what she hoped was a seductive grin. Strands of shaggy brown hair fluttered everywhere, sticking to Cali’s face in the most unflattering of ways. If asked, Cali would absolutely blame her uncooperative hair for her failed delivery, despite her history of appearing more like a vaguely romantic crab than seductive. Somehow, her dorky display calmed Onyx, judging by how tensed shoulders finally relaxed, and the show-stopping smile returned to her lips.

“That’ll be you, Sweetheart.” She purred in return, nuzzling closer. Cali’s phone fell to the couch, forgotten as the Envy assassin wrapped her girlfriend up in her arms. Both sighed. Everything was right with the world again, at least for a few moments.

“Mmmhmmm, agree to disagree. If our baby is born anything but human, then we tell mom the whole entire truth and teach her how to babysit. The troupe can’t always be around when we need naps, so mom will be happy to have a chance to spoil her grandkid rotten. Besides, she raised me, a dragon will be nothing her brooms of vengeance cannot handle.”

“But, what if the troupe hate me? I can’t help you guys like this.”

“You can’t turn into a dragon because you’re pregnant. That means you’re vulnerable, not useless.” Cali pointed out, giving Onyx an affectionate squeeze around the shoulders.

“Nitza will be after me. She’ll want me, and the baby.”

“I’ll die before I let anybody touch my family.” Cali growled; all traces of her humanity lost in a snarl vicious enough to rival any demon. She felt the rage bubbling, thicker than molten lava in the cradle of a volcano. It consumed, burning through her rationality until she couldn’t tell where her own protective rage ended and Onyx’s began. Onyx may be the dragon, yet Cali’s entirely human body produced sounds to rival Onyx’s alternate form. The former Envy assassin reached out, wrapping her own hand around Cali’s clenched fist, wiggling her fingers between Cali’s until the current Envy had to relax her fist. Had to let Onyx in.

“Ripley and I will protect you, we can take craving shifts! It’ll mean I won’t be on the streets with the troupe, but that does’t mean we can’t both help out here more. We can watch Avi, which will be awesome practice for baby. I can keep gear up to scratch, work on the bikes and you can have more time to design. I know your fingers must be itching to do something creative.”

“They are…” Onyx sighed l, seemingly content to have settled Cali’s rage. The blonde tucked her feet up onto the couch, barely pausing to kick her sneakers off before she wiggled her toes in silent satisfaction. Cali couldn’t help but tighten her arm around Onyx, smiling when Onyx responded by leaning into Cali’s shoulder, forehead buried in chaotic hair.

“but the others will be out fighting while I’m stuck here. It feels like hiding away and doing nothing.” Onyx trailed off, tensing. The sun set over beautiful greens when Onyx closed her eyes, the bedazzling piercing through her cheek acting like the moon across the skies of her expressions. For a moment, she trapped the soft, delicate flesh of her lower lip between gleaming teeth, as if gathering the courage to speak.

“I keep hearing Dorran.” The whispered confession had the dragon within Onyx roaring with rage, something which echoed through the bond. Cali shuddered, brows furrowing as spots took over her vision. For that brief moment she could feel it, the war within Onyx. The uncertainty and doubt mixed with rage. The latter, Cali empathized with. It burned just as brightly within her own heart, feeding into a loop of fury that promised to spiral out of control. Cali didn’t let it, she couldn’t.

Soft feathers, like laying on a marshmallow. The warmth of a spa day, the relaxation. Sticky and wet along the side of her head, into her hair. The rasp of an impossibly large tongue. Laughter. Pride. Love. The certainty of a promise.

“Ignore everything he told you.” Cali urged, barely keeping her opinion to herself. Now was not the time for her to rant about how pissed she was at her girlfriend’s ex.

“Onyx, you aren’t hiding away doing nothing. Not only are you holding a literal dragon back, you’re growing a person! Or a dragonling. You are doing the hardest job in the world. You’re creating a little Onyx! You’re nurturing and providing a safe place for baby to grow. You’re growing a life, Onyx, and sustaining them until they can sustain themselves. Even when you sleep, your body will be working. For nine months, you never get a break. That is way more exhausting than fighting demons for an hour. Can you imagine Cal’s face if he snarks at you? You can be like “Bitch, I grew a nerve cluster today, I’m currently working on a kidney.”

“Sweetheart… You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” There was no laughter in Onyx’s voice, despite the glee taking spark in her eyes. Genuine awe was slathered across her face, radiating until Cali could feel the accompanying emotions through the bond. The littler woman untangled herself from her partner, reaching out to take Cali’s hands for a few moments before her cheeks tinged pink. Without a word, Onyx lured Cali closer, placing the mechanic’s hands over her pale abdomen.

“Nup. I’m scared too, and excited. I just know that you’re my everything, and we’ll figure this out together.” Cali’s words were soft, whispered into the stillness they found themselves submerged in. Cali’s hands were burning, her palms prickling with the tingling heat as she processed what she was doing. Caramel and milk, that was the closest things Cali could associate to the swirl of their different skin colours. Her fingers looked so dark compared to Onyx, casting her in an exotic light, or perhaps Onyx in a mystical one. The duet of tones was dreamlike, earning the largest smile as Cali finally processed the meaning of the gesture. She stared, illogically fearing her callused hands might hurt Onyx and the baby. A breath, accompanied by trembling muscles the few moments before Cali surrendered and placed her hands flat against Onyx’s belly. It was unbelievable! Onyx had barely put on any weight, just enough to be barely noticeable, yet suddenly her body felt entirely new. The definition of her stomach was still there, all lithe muscle and sublime softness, yet there was more too. A curve, small enough to be imagination yet large enough for Cali’s hands to trace. To cup. To protect from the world. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her swollen cheeks as her smile grew large enough to rival the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, names! We need to start thinking about names!” Cali added enthusiastically, blinking away her tears. This was her future, sitting just beneath the palms of her hands. A little Wren growing, expecting them to have the perfect name. Cali began to panic. What name could be enough for their baby? Forget names, what title best fit until they decided? The baby was too clinical. Baby had that familiar quality Cali was looking for, but also couldn’t be the name they used forever.

“But I’m barely even showing yet.” Onyx playfully protested, bringing her hands to rest over Cali’s, holding them to her belly. Love. It was so pure, so overpowering. Cali lost it. Her tears began to trail down her cheeks, accompanied by little sniffles as she looked hopefully up to Onyx. Every hope and dream she had flooded the bond, sweeping them both away on a tide so impossibly sweet that the real world dared not invade. Even through their sniffles and tears, Cali laughed, appraising Onyx on a particularly important fact.

“It’s never too early to start thinking! Trust me, it’ll be the first thing my mother asks.”

#Anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #onyx wren #onyx x mc #sin with me onyx #swm onyx #sin with me envy #swm envy #sin with me #fluff #miscellaneous monday

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asmolbirb · 5 years ago

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Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: T Word count: ~2500

Jaskier doesn’t start on the sweeter ballads until after he’s eaten his dinner and enjoyed a mug of ale. By then, the last vestiges of daylight have given way to inky darkness shot through with stars, and the innkeeper has stoked the fire to a roaring inferno, and the kind of lazy contentedness that accompanies a full belly has settled over the locals like a blanket, all of this working to create a decidedly more receptive audience for tender tales of lost love and distant adventure. So Jaskier looks around and notes how the conversation has dulled, and he begins picking out chords and runs, starting simple and working his way to more melancholy melodies.

He gets “Toss a Coin” out of the way early. It’s a crowd-pleaser and guaranteed to recoup the cost of his supper—and Geralt’s, when the Witcher deigns to join him—at least twice over. He fumbles his way through a couple of local ballads he’s still learning, about old spirits and familiar legends, and he tells the poeticized tale of a kikimora Geralt recently dispatched. And then, to end of his performance, he indulges himself with one of his more wistful ballads about love and heartbreak.

He has an alarmingly robust collection of those, and he rotates through them: the bittersweet lament about a love that slipped out of his reach; the tragic tale of the woman with no smile; the ode to the muse whose quick wit enthralled him only to leave him desolate, yearning, utterly alone. These ballads are too forlorn to see frequent use, but Jaskier has a soft spot for them. They tell his own story, after all. It’s cathartic to lose himself in the movement of his fingers across the strings of his lute, the plaintive runs that bookend his choruses. And the ballads have the added bonus of occasionally attracting a barmaid sympathetic to his plight and willing to help him forget his sorrows.

By the time he and Geralt pay for a room in a town where the air is sticky with humidity and sharp with the faint scent of seawater, it’s been more than a month since his last tumble with an eager barmaid, and Jaskier is thrumming with excess energy. He works his way through three ballads that night before noticing he’s picked up an audience.

“She must have stolen your heart quite thoroughly,” says one of the women lingering near Jaskier and Geralt when Jaskier finally shakes himself out of his trance, “to have inspired three ballads.”

“She is the beauty of my world,” Jaskier agrees. He begins packing up his lute; he’s indulged himself enough tonight. “My ballads capture only a fraction of her splendor.”

“Tell us about her, then,” says a barmaid, and the rest of Jaskier’s audience sends up a chorus of agreement. “She’s a lucky woman to have caught your attention.”

Geralt, who has been silent until now, snorts. “Yes, Jaskier, tell us. I can’t wait to hear about the fair lady who has caught your eye,” he says dryly, and it’s only because Jaskier is now fluent in Geralt’s sparse manner of speaking that he hears the words Geralt isn’t saying, hears you’ve been on the road with me for a month, how will you spin your way out of this?

Jaskier meets Geralt’s gaze without flinching. He grins slightly, casts his eyes over his captive audience, all hanging off his every word. “I’m not one to kiss and tell,” he begins, affecting wistfulness, “but she deserves to be told about.” Minding his pronouns, he continues, “She’s incredible. The kindest soul I’ve ever met. Her nobility is unparalleled. She would never leave a debt unpaid, nor a soul in harm’s way. She is unafraid to face any danger, be it a dragon or a man sick with corruption.”

He catches Geralt’s eye again, but the other man doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He lets Geralt’s lack of reaction embolden him. “She doesn’t say much. It is my punishment, I suppose, for barging into her life the way I did, that I must interpret her moods from her expressions alone.” He sighs dramatically, letting his eyelids flutter and his lips fall into a besotted smile. “But how exquisite those expressions are, and how I delight in coaxing them upon her face.”

“To hell with that sappy bullshit,” says one of the women sitting near him. “You speak in metaphors enough in your ballads. What does she look like? Is she noble or a commoner?”

Jaskier swallows. Involuntarily, he glances at Geralt, but the Witcher only looks amused, still waiting for Jaskier’s lies to fall apart. Jaskier understands his amusement. From Geralt’s perspective, Jaskier hasn’t properly courted a woman since the Countess de Stael.

Just as well for Jaskier, then, that Geralt hasn’t yet figured out the true object of his affections. “She’s fair-haired,” he says now to his audience. “With locks that reflect the sun like a thousand mirrors, and eyes golden as honeycombs. Taller than me, but with hips as slender as any child’s. And a bottom round as an apple,” he throws in with a cheeky wink. “She isn’t a noble, but she’s no commoner, either. She isn’t the type to sit back and let others do her work for her. She is strong—stronger than I, that’s for certain.” And he has to pause here as he remembers the way Geralt has thrown him over shoulder, has hauled him across terrain both rough and smooth with naught more than a grip on his collar. He swallows shakily, wills himself not to look at Geralt, though he can see out of his periphery that Geralt is staring at him now, intently, brow furrowed, lips thinned. Nonetheless, Jaskier continues digging his grave. Can’t leave his audience waiting, of course.

“She isn’t one for tender touches,” he admits. “But still, she tolerates mine. I confess, I often wonder why she allows me to grace her side.”

“Perhaps you offer a nocturnal performance worth suffering the rest,” suggests one of the barmaids, and the others cackle in agreement. Jaskier simply shrugs.

“Perhaps,” he acknowledges. Unable to help himself, he sneaks another glance toward Geralt, only to find Geralt’s intense glare trained directly on him. Try as he might, Jaskier can’t tear his eyes away. “Perhaps she keeps me around as a bedwarmer,” he continues slowly, his eyes locked on Geralt’s, “until she finds someone who is sweeter than me, or until she grows tired of my antics. Perhaps I am naught but temporary entertainment. But I adore her, truly. The sight of her is as water to a man lost in a desert, and her touch is softer than the finest Toussaintian silk.”

Geralt growls at that. He stands up abruptly, his chair skidding across the floor with a screech. “Say good night, Jaskier,” he rumbles, his eyes narrowed. “We have business of our own to attend to.”

Jaskier swallows. Finally, he looks away, back at his enraptured audience. “That’s enough for tonight, I suppose,” he concedes good-naturedly. “You’ll have to wait for the next ballad to hear more, though it won’t be long until I write it. My lady is too exquisite to keep her name from my lips for long.”

Geralt’s voice rumbles again, wordlessly, before Jaskier can get lost in his own words again. He claps a large hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, using it to steer him toward the stairs and their room. “Sweet dreams, ladies!” Jaskier calls over his shoulder, doffing his hat clumsily. “May you be luckier in love than I!”

Geralt doesn’t slam the door behind him, but it’s a near thing, and Jaskier would wince in sympathy if Geralt’s hand wasn’t still bearing down on his shoulder, rooting him in place. Geralt lets go after a moment and leans against the door, his arms crossed in typical Geraltian fashion. Jaskier collapses onto the bed, taking the opportunity to roll his shoulder a few times in exaggerated discomfort. “I swear I end up with more bruises than you do sometimes,” he complains. “I understand misery loves company, but perhaps next time you feel the urge to rough someone up, you could find another monster. Plenty of those around, and frankly, we could do with the extra coin, seeing as someone kept me from buttering up the crowd to fatten our purses tonight—”

“There’s no lady,” Geralt says.

Jaskier trails off. “Well, of course not,” he says instead. “I imagine a woman would take grave offense to the frequency with which we give our patronage to brothels, not to mention your unseemly habit of bathing in monster blood and other revolting gunk.” He wrinkles his nose. “Perhaps I should write an ode to your masterful powers of observation next.”

“But you were talking about a woman tonight,” Geralt continues, ignoring Jaskier entirely. He tries not to take offense to that. Something tells him that any protest he offers will be utterly disregarded. “The same one your ballads are about, the one who broke your heart and left you wanting.”

Warmth blooms, unbidden, in Jaskier’s heart. Geralt has been listening to his songs. Geralt remembers his lyrics. Geralt knows enough about Jaskier’s lyrics to notice the details consistent through them all.

Geralt knows Jaskier is in love.

The warmth transforms instantly into a spear of ice, chilly tendrils spreading through Jaskier’s chest and pulsing through his veins even as he says, with false cheer, “They’re stories, Geralt. Hyperbole. I’m a poet. It’s what I do. Heartbreak is a universal emotion, and the gods know I’ve experienced it often enough in my short time upon this mortal coil. I could write songs about heartbreak in my sleep—and just you watch, I’ll be doing it tonight, you’ve really dug your own grave with this, my friend.”

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. He pushes off the door and stalks towards Jaskier, stopping just inches from the bed and forcing Jaskier to crane his neck to keep looking Geralt in the eye. Briefly, Jaskier considers climbing to his feet as well, to be on even ground with Geralt. However, doing so would place him chest-to-chest with the other man, and that isn’t something Jaskier can physically handle right now. So he stays put, his heart hammering wildly against his rib cage, and he’s certain Geralt, with his enhanced hearing, must be deafened by the sound.

“Someone once told me,” Geralt starts slowly, “that all good stories stem from a kernel of truth. So either your stories are shit, or you aren’t telling me the truth. Which is it, Jaskier?”

And here’s the problem with traipsing across the Continent behind a Witcher like a lost puppy, Jaskier reflects. He’s experienced a lifetime of adventure and filled uncountable notebooks with lyrics and learned more about Geralt than possibly any other being on the planet. But then, Geralt has had ample opportunity to peer into Jaskier’s soul, too. It’s easy to get caught up in Geralt’s brawn, and his stony silence, and his aversion to emotional commitment. It’s easy to forget how perceptive Geralt can be.

“The former, obviously,” quips Jaskier, a little breathlessly, a little too quietly. He wants to look away, wants to find an escape route, but Geralt is magnetic. Jaskier could drown in those golden eyes. And all the while he’s still running his mouth, trying to stave off the inevitable. “I’m all pie crust and no filling, didn’t you know? It’s a wonder I manage to earn enough to pay for a warm meal and a bed at the end of the day. That’s why I keep you around, actually. For your income. Certainly not for the riveting conversation. Certainly not because I—because I need you.”

“And yet,” Geralt murmurs, reaching out to tip Jaskier’s chin up with a single knuckle, “here we are.”

When did Jaskier’s mouth get so dry? He licks his lips, watches Geralt’s eyes dip down to track the motion. “Here we are.”

Jaskier doesn’t know whether to close his eyes to give Geralt implicit consent or leave them open to track every emotion crossing Geralt’s face, doesn’t know whether to lean into Geralt’s touch or pull away and offer Geralt an out. Instead he waits, pulse racing, teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the slightest gust of wind to send him careening into freefall.

And it comes: a shallow breath against his lips, before Geralt’s mouth is covering his, stealing a kiss and Jaskier’s breath in one fell swoop. He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t give Jaskier a chance to collect himself before he’s surging in again, teeth tugging gently at Jaskier’s lips and coaxing a gasp from him, tongue pushing past the moment Jaskier’s lips part. It’s heady and intoxicating, and Jaskier can feel his mind going fuzzy as he focuses solely on matching Geralt’s intensity.

Somehow they end up horizontal, with Jaskier’s feet still dangling off the edge of the bed and Geralt on his hands and knees above Jaskier. Geralt presses close, his weight pinning Jaskier down, and Jaskier thinks there’s no place he would rather be than right here, Geralt’s thighs bracketing his, falling into a sweet messy rhythm that has Jaskier arching his back and scrabbling uselessly at Geralt’s broad torso and keening into Geralt’s mouth. Eventually he gives in and tosses his head back, opening his neck to Geralt’s ministrations and giving himself over entirely to the quicksilver pleasure coursing through him.

Once they’ve stilled and caught their breath, Geralt moves just far enough to drag Jaskier fully onto the bed and no further. He continues stealing sweet kisses, seemingly determined to swallow all the air from Jaskier’s lungs before letting him go.

“You’re not temporary entertainment,” Geralt rumbles an eternity later against Jaskier’s lips, their breath mingling. Jaskier revels in that simple phrase and the intimate action that accompanied it, feels his blood singing with the knowledge that Geralt reciprocates his feelings, might want Jaskier as a permanent fixture by his side—until Geralt continues, “You’ve never been entertaining.”

“Oi, fuck off!” Jaskier gasps in mock indignation. He pushes himself away and braces a hand against Geralt’s chest to keep him at arm’s length. “You weren’t complaining about my performance just now!”

But Geralt is laughing quietly, his whole body shaking against Jaskier’s, and Jaskier lets himself be pulled back into Geralt’s arms, lets Geralt kiss his anger away. His last thought before he launches a campaign to make Geralt regret his words is an apology to the women he’d been singing to in the tavern below; his next ballad may be a long time coming yet.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #neko writes fic #neko makes words #so uhhh guess who wrote that geraskier ballad fic i said i wasn't gonna write #someone tell me how i banged out that one scene in like 15 minutes when i was wasted last night #but the rest of this fic took me literally almost 8 hours #anyway uhhh pls lmk if you enjoyed lmao im big dumb and crave validation #((also im real bad with characterization so. here's hoping i did them justice!))#my legacy

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oswildin · 5 years ago

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Bonded {Part Four} ~ Dhawan!Master x Reader

~ Damn I’m on a roll this week. Time off work is doing me good. We’re getting to the juicy bits now... ~

Summary: The Master opened the box... Leaving you with more questions than answers..

Warnings: None

Song:

The two Timelords stood frozen, silent as they stared at you, expecting some sort of big reveal, or reaction as you just sat quietly. The room was tense, suspense ridden. The Doctor took a cautious step forwards as you watched her closely.

“(Y/N)?” She asked worried, unsure on how well you were taking everything. She was angry at the Master for his actions. He had no right to do that. It wasn’t his actions to make. But first and foremost she was concerned about her friend. You nodded at her calling your name as she sighed in relief.

“Did something go wrong?” You asked, eyes full of wonder as the pair looked at each other for a moment. “I feel... I feel...” You felt your chest as you felt another heartbeat. You gasped at the sensation. “Oh... this is weird.” You told them as they looked mildly confused themselves.

“Do you feel any different?” She inquired, setting herself down on the bed beside you. “Any lost memories come back? Anything about why you had your abilities taken away?” You paused, trying to think back, trying to pick the locks on the doors inside your mind, but they were shut.

“It’s like my minds been locked from the inside.” You told her. “I feel it inside me. But, it’s being held back. I can feel them.” You whispered, tears in your eyes. “They’re so lonely. And afraid.” The Doctor reached out for your hand as she comforted you. The Master watched intently as you appeared healthier, but it seemed the damaged ran deeper than just the body.

“They’ve sealed off their memories.” He told them. “They’ve timelocked their brain.” He hissed as his eyes looked angry. “This. This!” He pointed at you as he stared at the Doctor. “This is what our people did, Doctor.” He told her as she looked at him, sharing the same anger, but also confusion. “This is why they burned.” He stormed out, leaving the two alone as he needed to calm himself down.

“Doctor...” you called quietly as she turned her attention back to you. “Everything is a lie. Everything...” You breathed out as she held her own breath, remembering the Master’s own words that he had spoken.

The Doctor was trailing through the TARDIS to find the Master. She had questions and she needed answers.

The Master stood at the console, looking around the large empty space. The Doctor had dropped the others home, giving the Timelords time to figure out what was going on with their home. The others knew nothing of the Doctor’s past, and she intended to keep it that way.

“What happened to Gallifrey?”

The Doctor’s voice broke the silence of the room as the Master looked over to see her coming down the steps. He clicked his tongue as he looked down for a second, pushing himself away from the console.

“I’ll tell you, only if you remove this.” He gestured to the device she had placed on his arm.

“How can I trust you?” She narrowed her eyes.

“You can’t.” He shrugged. “But I suggest you try.” He told her lowly. “And I need something from you in return.” She raised a brow, awaiting his request. “You tell me what you know about the Bonded.”

The Doctor reluctantly agreed, removing the device from his wrist as he rubbed the skin where it had sat. He smirked at her as she threw it down, stepping away from him as he tightened his jaw.

“The Bonded. It’s an ancient myth that our people had others out there that they were bonded to.” She told him. “No one knew if it was true. The two Timelords brains were interlinked, bodies too. Almost as if they were one being.”

“That’s not possible.” He argued as she stared at him sternly.

“They felt it. When you were shot. They felt that tingle in their arm.” She told him, nodding to his used to be injured arm. “I saw it happen.”

“What are you trying to imply, Doctor?” He asked darkly, stepping forwards as she stood her ground.

“Whoever that Timelord is, is Bonded to you.” She paused. “The suppression is still killing (Y/N), just at a slower rate. Now the Timelord energy is back inside their body, they are able to stabilise. For now.” The Master tilted his head. “The Bonded can go through their whole life, not meeting their other half... But once they do... It’s sealed. The link is formed fully.” The Master had a flashback to when he touched you for the first time, feeling that pulse of warmth and electricity in his body. He shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around it all. “Separation isn’t an option.” She told him as he growled, turning away from her.

“What does this mean for me?” He asked angrily. “That what I do is still dictated by the Founding Fathers?!” The Doctor stayed silent. “Just when I thought I had ended it all...”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice quiet as she heard his words. He took a breath before turning back to face her, his eyes glossy.

“I burnt Gallifrey.” He told her, as she blinked back in shock. “When I said someone did that, obviously I meant I did. I had to make them pay for what I discovered.” He spat. “They lied to us, the founding fathers of Gallifrey. Everything we were told was a lie. We are not who we think, you or I.” He paused. “The whole existence of our species built on the lie of the Timeless Child.” His voice wavered slightly as she shook her head, disbelief evident in her eyes. “Do you see it? It's buried deep in all our memories. In our identity. I'd tell you more, but...” He paused, smirking slightly. “But why would I make it easy for you? It wasn't for me.” He said, his face close to her own as he walked away, leaving her to her own thoughts. She felt sadness fall through her body as she replayed his words.

You paced the room, a new found energy flowing through your veins as you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You could hear the whispers still, but instead of being out loud, they were coming from within.

‘Taken’

‘Regeneration’

‘Energy’

‘Outcast’

Those words repeated over and over, stuck on a loop. It was driving you insane. You were brought out of your thoughts by the Master, grabbing your arm as you jerked back in surprise.

“I’ve been calling your name.” He told you as you looked up at him. You both hadn’t realised he was still touching you as you felt relaxed. The voices quietened down slightly. “I think we need to take a trip, don’t you?” He narrowed his eyes as you looked down, seeing him holding a device in his hand. It was the same teleportation device he had used before as he sent you both away off the TARDIS.

You landed on the ground, the Master next to you as you looked down, seeing golden sand under your hands. You looked at it intensely as the Master offered a hand to help you up. You hesitantly took it, finally taking a look around.

It was Gallifrey.

The burnt orange skies... the buildings... The sand... it was all from your memories... It was real.

“Why are we here?” You asked, looking over at him as he stared in disgust towards the city.

“For answers.” He told you lowly, beginning to walk towards civilisation as you quickly followed. You suddenly felt scared. Why? If this was your home, why did it make you feel that way? The Master felt the change in your emotion as he turned to see you looking terrified of the world around you. Something was definitely wrong. And he had an idea who was behind it.

The Master led you inside the largest building of the city... The High Councils building... He kept a hand on your back as he ushered you with him, keeping you close incase of any danger. You felt your anxiety increase as you drew closer to the chambers of the Founding Fathers. You both stood in front of the large gold doors that held the room on the other side, as he pulled out a gun from his jacket. You stepped back instinctively as he sent you a reassuring glance. He pressed a button, opening the doors as it revealed Timelords sat around a large table.

“Rassilon!”

The Master boomed, his voice echoing around the magnificent room as the older man turned round, seeing the renegade Timelord. Soldiers aimed their weapons at the pair as the Master held his own weapon up at the Founding Father.

“Master... I was wondering when you would return.” Rassilon greeted him. “No doubt you are from the future.” He narrowed his eyes. You tried to stay behind the Master, not wanting the others to see you. You didn’t know why. You felt in danger being in their presence.

“Oh I am.” He grinned madly. “I was lucky enough to watch this world burn with all of you left on it.” He spat, eyes dark. You could feel his rage in your chest. It was frightening to say the least. Rassilon straightened up at his words, his lips in a tight line. “It was... magnificent.” He pushed further, trying to evoke a reaction.

“I’m sure it will be.” Rassilon answered calmly. “We have come back from wars greater than anything else in the universe, Master.” He raised his brows. “What makes you think we can’t survive again?” The Master flared his nostrils. He reached out, pulling you from behind him as he held onto your arm tightly. Everyone in the room looked shocked. Rassilon couldn’t even keep his composure as he became enraged.

“How dare you!” He shouted. “You bring this creature back onto our planet?!” He snarled, the Master narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. “They were supposed to stay hidden!” You felt fear. Real fear. You almost moved closer to the Master, despite the fact he was the one who was showing you to all of the Timelords, he was your only chance of surviving. The Master felt your fear. He felt the loneliness from inside of you as he grew angrier.

“You casted then out! Time locking their memories!” The Master argued. “Not even those who betrayed Gallifrey get that punishment!” He paused. “So what... what was so different about them?”

“You don’t want to know.” Rassilon said darkly.

“See, I think I already do.” The Master retorted, taking a step forward, causing the soldiers to tighten their grips on their triggers. “I know what you did, Founding Father.” He spat. “What a glorious saviour you are!” He shook with anger as he spoke his words. You tried to pull the Master back, afraid for his safety, and your own. “Do they know of the great legend?!” He looked around the room at the High Council members, seeing them all stare at him with vengeance. “The Great legend of-“

“That’s Enough!” Rassilons voice bellowed as The Master took a step back. “I will not take any of this blasphemy!” The Master laughed wildly, still a tight grip on the gun in his hand.

“You... you think yourself a god.” The Master shook his head. “You are nothing but a liar.” He hissed as Rassilon snapped, marching over to the Master as they stood face to face.

“You listen here, boy.” He began. “You know nothing of our beginnings. The trouble we went through... To create beings like you!” The Master smirked, finally hearing what he had been waiting for.

“And there you have it.” The Master snarled. “The power hungry god.” He smirked. “Now, you will tell your soldiers to stand down. You will remove your High Council, and you will reverse the Timelock in her head.” He paused, revealing another device he held in his other hand. “Or I will do it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t. Test. Me.”

Rassilon flared his nostrils as he waved everyone out the room as they hurriedly exited. The Master threw down his gun onto the table as he glanced back at you. He sent you a reassuring glance as he walked towards Rassilon. You quickly pulled him back as he looked down at you.

“Why are you doing this? Please, can we go.” You asked him quietly, voice shaking.

“If we don’t do this, you will die. Your Timelord subconscious is still trapped. It’s inside you, but you have the Timelock on it, meaning it’s still compressing you to death.” He told you sternly, as you licked your lips, shaking your head.

“What does it matter?” You argued. “We all die someday.” You shrugged. “I don’t want to become someone else.” You told him, pleading eyes looking into his own. He narrowed his own.

“Don’t you see? They would win!” He hissed. “They always win.” He shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Master...” You begged as he kept his jaw tightened. Hearing you say his name made him feel some sort of way. He couldn’t place the feeling.

“You are my Bonded.” He admitted as you looked confused. “I will not let you die. The one chance I have of being understood, not alone.” He told you, eyes softened. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded, agreeing with him as he sighed in relief, going to turn back.

“If I get my memories back, I want them to take away my regeneration cycle.” You told him as he paused, frozen in his place. “That’s the deal. I don’t want to live forever.” You told him honestly as he gritted his teeth, ignoring you as he continued towards Rassilon.

“Remove the Timelock.”

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classysassy9791 · 4 years ago

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When a job goes terribly wrong, the Fairy Tail guild is left to pick up the pieces. Mourning the deaths of their guildmates, Lucy can't seem to find the strength to move forward. But she comes to realize one person understands. His madness was her mercy, and she finally began to hope that maybe he could make her heart beat again.

Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Adventure/Tragedy Warning: Character Death(s) Ch. 1 l

Chapter 2 Word Count: 4,700 Can also be found here

Humming her herself, Mirajane swept a cloth over the bar top, cleaning up the remnants of the party that had carried over from the day before. Some of her guildmates still hung around, most passed out drunk in various places, but a few, like Cana, were still lively.

“Another round!” the card mage called from the end of the bar, where her and a drunk Macao sat.

With an airy laugh, Mirajane moved to grab another drink from the tap. “I think Macao has had enough,” she mused, setting a mug down in front of Cana. “He may already be passed out.”

An incoherent grumble from the elder mage was her only response. The brunette grinned. “See? He’s not down for the count yet!”

“Oh goodness. Romeo is going to be so upset with me. I promised him I’d watch his father’s drinking,” Mirajane deplored.

“What are you, his keeper? Come on, it’s a celebration! Let him slide.”

“The celebration started three days ago back in Crocus.”

Cana pouted. “Way to kill the party, Mira.”

Suddenly, the guildhall doors burst open, slamming into the walls behind it, and startling the few patrons who were still somewhat conscious. Mirajane’s blue eyes rose, a smile on her face, expecting to see Team Natsu arriving back from the job they took that morning, but what she saw made her freeze in her tracks, a hand covering her mouth to suppress a gasp.

Loke stood in the doorway, his normally clean-kept suit tattered and torn, with an unconscious Lucy draped in his arms. Blood covered her face and clothes, soaking into the lion’s white shirt. Beside them stood her other spirit, Virgo, with a barely conscious Gray settled on her back.

“We need help!” Loke shouted, his wide eyes shifting over what remained of the Fairy Tail mages at such a late hour.

Mirajane pushed down her fear and took charge. “Bring them to the infirmary!” she commanded, pointing down the hallway.

“What happened?” her little sister, Lisanna, asked, bustling out from the back room at the sound of Loke’s cry.

“No time,” Loke urged, already moving down the hallway. “We need Wendy!”

“On it!” Lisanna disappeared out the door toward the girl’s dormitory to fetch the sky dragon slayer.

“I’ll go grab Master.” The barmaid was gone in a flash.

Loke heard a shout from Cana before she disappeared out the guildhall doors as he stepped into the infirmary. He laid Lucy down on one of the beds, brushing a few blonde strands of hair out of her face. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as his mind ran a mile a minute. This wasn’t supposed to happen! This isn’t how it was supposed to be!

“Big Brother?” Virgo called from where she had laid Gray on another bed parallel to Lucy. “What are we going to do?”

The lion spirit shook his head, hazel eyes looking at his mage forlornly. “It’s going to kill her,” he murmured, his brows knitted tightly together. “It’s going to kill both of them.”

She folded her hands in front of her, blue eyes peering wistfully at the blonde. “They’re going to ask about them.”

“Then we don’t tell them,” he affirmed. “At least, not yet. Not until they’ve healed some. Let Wendy work her magic; let Lucy and Gray be oblivious for a while before they have to face what happened.”

Virgo nodded, giving a small bow. “As you wish.” In that moment she understood her assistance was no longer needed, and the drain she was placing on Lucy’s magic had become an impediment. In a flash of golden light, she was gone.

“What happened?!” Wendy shouted as she dashed into the room, dressed in her pajamas and blue hair an absolute mess. She stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of Gray and Lucy - both battered, bloody, and unconscious. Her brown eyes wide, her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. “Oh, no!”

“My word,” Charle chimed in as she flew in behind Wendy. “What on Earth happened here?”

Lisanna appeared beside them with a deep frown. “Where’s Natsu and Happy? And Erza?” she demanded.

Loke ignored her. “Wendy, please.”

She glanced between her charges before finally settling on Gray being the worst of the two. “I-I’ll do my best,” she assured, hands hovering over the wound in his abdomen and igniting a soft glow.

The youngest Strauss sibling turned fierce eyes on Loke. “They were only gone on a simple mission! How did this happen?!”

Just then, Makarov Dreyer entered the room, followed by an anxious Mirajane. The small man shuffled over to where his adopted children lay, worry lines creasing his brows. “They were on a mission to capture some bandits in the next town over,” he said, his expression grim. He turned accusing eyes on Lucy’s spirit. “Explain.”

“Let’s allow Wendy to work,” Loke instructed, gesturing toward the hallway. He, Mirajane, and the guild master exited the room, closing the door behind them and leaving the others to anxiously watch over Lucy and Gray. Loke exhaled deeply. “I’m not sure of the whole story,” he admitted quietly. “Lucy didn’t call me to her aide until the battle was already in full swing.”

“Battle?” Makarov echoed. “What battle?”

Loke leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what happened, but when she called me out, three demons from the books of Zeref were ravaging the town. There were fires and explosions - complete chaos.”

“That’s not right,” Mirajane said, shaking her head. “How did a mission to capture bandits turn into fighting demons?”

He pulled his lips into a tight line. “I don’t know. What I do know is that I was no match for whoever they were. Lucy was already low on magic energy by the time I was summoned. It seemed like they were giving it everything they had, but I could tell the fight was wearing them down. I didn’t last long before I had to go back to the celestial realm.”

“What of Natsu?” the master questioned. “And Erza?”

Loke dipped his gaze, his hands clenched tighter around himself. “They’re dead.”

Makarov stayed quiet for a moment, tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to discern the news. “My-My children…”

Loke’s voice quivered as he spoke. “Th-There was nothing we could do,” he whispered. “They managed to kill one of the demons off, but lost their own lives in the process.”

A hand flew to Mirajane’s mouth, tears springing into her eyes. “N-No!” she gasped, her legs giving way as she collapsed to her knees. “They-They can’t be-” She drew in shallow sharp breaths, her body trembling. “H-How can you be sure?”

“When… When I was finally able to return with my own magic to make sure Lucy was okay, I found her kneeling over Natsu and…” He took a deep breath to steady himself and cleared his throat. “Lucy found Erza, too.”

Makarov choked back a sob, his eyes full of fury. “How could this have happened? I don’t understand! Who dared to hurt my children?!”

Loke adjusted his glasses. “Like I said, I’m not entirely sure. The threat had gone by the time I returned, and I don’t know their whereabouts. I’m sure Lucy and Gray could tell you more, but I don’t think we should tell them anything until Wendy has done what she can. They need their rest. Let them live with ignorance for tonight.”

Blue eyes swimming with tears gazed up at them. “Wh-What are we supposed to do?” Mirajane whispered, her heart constricting painfully in her chest.

The master exhaled deeply, swiping tears from his eyes. “We need to bring them home. Let Wendy work her sky magic. I’ll send the Thunder Legion.”

“What about the rest of the guild?” Loke asked.

“There’s nothing they can do right now.” He sniffled, gathering his composure. “Allow them one last night of rest. Tomorrow…”

He let his sentence trail, not daring to finish it. He pushed his way back into the infirmary. Mirajane shook her head from where she had crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide and vision blurred.

“Erza… Natsu…” she whispered, squeezing the cloth of her dress over where her heart beat. Her body felt like lead, her tongue tasted like cough syrup, bitter and unwanted. It felt like deja vu, like the night she had lost Lisanna right before her eyes, leaving the guild broken and destroyed. They had lost one of their youngest mages, and it had rippled through everyone, leaving a scar upon their home.

But this… Losing two of their most treasured wizards in a single night… How could they survive this? Natsu… Erza… They were the forefront of the guild. They made everyone laugh and feel whole. Now who would pick up the pieces? Who would be there to make them laugh again?

Mirajane peered up at Loke, her body numb with the thoughts threatening to drown her. “Loke,” she mumbled earnestly, needing him to wake her from this nightmare.

The lion spirit slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m not going to tell you everything’s okay,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. “It’ll be a long time before it is again.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving a glitter of golden light to rain down on what remained of a disheveled and broken fairy.

...

The battlefield lay quiet, for now it was a graveyard for the unburied. Their corpses lay among the crumbled buildings and forget-me-nots. The sun had only risen and the wind still blew, but somewhere, families waited in vain. It seemed as if the majority of the townsfolk had not survived, leaving the rest to escape into the countryside.

Wide amber eyes swept over the wreckage. He heard a small gasp beside him, and a murmur of “holy hell”. They had been sent on a rescue mission, but from what they had been told, it was more of a retrieval - to bring their fallen brethren home.

“Fan out,” Laxus ordered, his voice cool and collected compared to the dread eating away at his stomach. “Search the area. And stay alert. We don’t know where the demons have wandered off to.”

Although hesitant, the Thunder Legion gave their nods of assent before each taking off in a different direction. Laxus began stepping over the wasteland, recalling the path in which Loke had described, where he was almost sure to find a pink-haired dragon slayer in his eternal slumber.

The thought made him sick.

How could that feisty kid, with so much fighting spirit, be bested by some demons? It just didn’t seem plausible. Laxus had called Loke a liar, refused his grandfather’s insistency, until he decided he needed to see it for himself. He could never believe Natsu was dead unless there was a body to prove it.

“Come on, kid,” he grumbled, his eyes sweeping over the expanse of the battlefield. “Where are you?”

It took almost an hour for Laxus to find Natsu, just passed the town square. He lay in a pool of his own cold blood, his eyes half-lidded and his face ashen. Nausea swirled unrestrained in Laxus’ empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets and his heart felt as if his blood had become tar, struggling to keep a steady beat.

“Natsu…” Laxus almost choked on his name, falling to his knees beside him. He pushed the concrete off his chest and curled an arm around the dragon slayer’s head, feeling the ice cold of his skin, the stiffness of his limbs.

The bastard had died with a smile on his face.

His vision blurred with tears, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. How… How had this happened? The Salamander, the Fire Dragon Slayer, dead…? He couldn’t wrap his mind around this new reality.

A piercing scream tore his gaze away from the boy in his arms to the direction Evergreen had wandered off in. He carefully wrapped Natsu in his fur-lined jacket and pulled him to his chest as he stood. The walk to where he heard his comrade scream from seemed like a lifetime, his footsteps heavy and staggered.

Evergreen knelt in the middle of the rubble, her body trembling from her sobs. Freed and Bickslow arrived just as Laxus did, their wide eyes glancing between the bundle in the thunder mage’s arms and the corpse Evergreen cried over.

“It-It can’t be,” Freed muttered, taking a step back as if he had been punched in the gut. “It can’t possibly be.”

Bickslow pulled his helmet free from his face, his mouth dropping open in an expression of stunned surprise. “No way…”

Evergreen turned to look at their leader, dark brown eyes overflowing with tears. “T-Titania is gone,” she cried. “The Qu-Queen of the Fairies is dead!”

Laxus didn’t need to check for himself. Just the image of Erza’s broken body was enough to confirm that she was gone. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay as he gripped Natsu tighter in his arms.

“Cover her,” he instructed quietly, nodding to the coat Evergreen wore. “Let’s bring our family home.”

“Wh-What about Happy?” Freed questioned, his voice breathy and uneven, as he remembered the blue exceed was still missing. “Has anyone found him?”

Everyone shook their heads. “I’ll go look for him,” Laxus offered, placing Natsu gently on the ground. He didn’t need to voice to his comrades that it was doubtful the cat had survived. If he had, he would have been by Natsu’s body, or with Lucy upon her return.

That morning, there was nothing but black smoke to line the glare of the sun.

...

“They’re going to be suspicious.”

Makarov focused his attention on the woman who entered his office. Mirajane looked exhausted, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had been up all night crying. He was sure that she had been. He hadn’t been able to sleep either.

“I know,” he replied to her comment, clenching the pen tighter in his hand. He had mindlessly been signing off on paperwork half the night, the only thing keeping his buried anger in check. “But Loke said-”

“To hell with what Loke said,” the take-over mage spat, her eyes fierce. “Erza and Natsu are dead. Happy is missing, meanwhile you leave Gray and Lucy, their teammates, in the dark?!”

The master furrowed his brows and gave her a hard stare. “It’s not only my decision to make. They need time to recover from their wounds.”

“What about the rest of the guild?” she argued, tears gathering in her eyes. “Are you going to leave them in the dark as well?”

He sighed, dropping his pen and running his hands over his balding head. “What am I going to say to them? I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know what exactly happened or who was behind this.”

She took a deep breath to reel in her anger. “We are a family.” Her voice quivered. “We… We have just lost two of our own. There is no avoiding that pain. This will tear the entire guild apart. We need each other!”

Makarov averted his gaze to the window, watching as birds flew by. It was still early, but most of the guild would be arriving in the hall for breakfast. As is, he wouldn’t be able to hide the news of their family for long. There had been other members at the guild last night, albeit drunk, but they would be wondering what exactly had occurred. As far as they knew, something terrible had happened and the Thunder Legion had been sent to help.

“I hate to see my children suffering.” He felt his throat tighten as he drew in a breath. “It kills me to see it.”

Mirajane choked back a sob. “We-We need you, Master,” she cried, folding her arms around herself. “We-We can’t get through this without you.”

The old man stayed quiet for a moment. Regret washed over him, the what-ifs and should’ve-beens running through his mind. How he longed to go back and take a different path, to stop them from taking that mission, tell them he would cover Lucy’s rent so they could rest properly. But now… it was impossible. There was no way to turn back the hands of the clock. There was no way to make it right. And he knew the guilt would eat away at him for the rest of his days.

“All right,” he finally agreed quietly. He reluctantly stood from his chair and made his way to Mirajane’s side. “We’ll go inform Lucy and Gray first. Then the rest of the guild.”

She swiped at her tears. “Of course.”

“I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to break the news.” He sighed deeply, folding his hands behind his back.

“Do what you always do. Speak from the heart.”

“What could I say? Something poetic and beautiful?” He shook his head. “I can’t about this. Some situations are too hard to glorify.”

And a man whose stature was so large in every sense of the word… suddenly looked so small.

...

The sky was dark and explosive.

“This isn’t time to falter!”

Terror widened her bloodshot eyes.

“Please, just hold on a little longer!”

She felt burning in her chest and electricity in her veins.

“Lucy!”

She stood frozen, lips half open, as ash fell from the sky in flakes of grey.

“Lucy?!”

...

“Lucy?”

Her eyes rolled open, blinking blearily to clear the fog of sleep, only to be met with a look of concern. Wendy hovered over her bedside with her hands clasped gently around her own. Apparently she had been restless in her sleep, the sheets tangled around her and soaked with a cold sweat.

“Where…?” she tried to ask, her voice hoarse. She licked her dry, cracked lips.

“It’s okay. You’re at Fairy Tail,” the dragon slayer explained with a reassuring smile. “You’re safe.”

Lucy’s chest heaved as she breathed heavily, her nightmares fading as she focused on the stale walls of the infirmary. Her head whirled as she struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard behind her, trying to remember how she had gotten there in the first place.

“Ow,” she groaned, wincing and curling an arm around her waist, which had been wrapped in bandages. Her entire body ached, and no matter how she moved, it was impossibly painful. “That really packs a punch.”

Wendy frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m still recovering from everything that happened in Crocus. I wasn’t able to do much, but Porlyusica has been helping me.”

“Porlyusica’s here?” the blonde questioned, furrowing her brows. If their medicinal advisor was here, they must be in pretty bad shape.

“Yeah, Jet brought her back last night.”

Brown eyes turned to the other bed, taking in the unconscious Gray. He didn’t seem much better off than she did. “Is he all right?”

“He’ll be okay,” Wendy promised. “He just needs to rest. You were both so depleted of magic energy, it’ll be a while before you regain your strength.”

She grasped her celestial keys from the nightstand, fiddling with them curiously, and feeling them warm with comfort from her touch. “What happened? I remember going on a job, but…”

Wendy shifted her feet nervously. “I’ll go let Master know you’re awake.” She quickly scampered out of the room, leaving the celestial mage alone.

Alone.

Lucy swept her gaze over the infirmary once more. Usually when she was injured, she’d have a pink-haired dragon slayer religiously at her bedside. Not often did he leave until he knew she was okay and out of danger. Where was he, anyways? Or Happy and Erza for that matter?

And then flashes from the night before came back full force, making her gasp for breath - the job, the bandits, the sudden appearance of Zeref’s demons, and the long fight that ensued afterwards. She remembered waking up after the entire town had been destroyed, finding Virgo and Gray, being comforted by Loke…

Because Erza and Natsu…

Hot tears sprang into her eyes as Lucy shook her head in denial. There was no way! Erza and Natsu couldn’t be dead. They were Erza and Natsu! Some of the strongest mages in the guild! No way could some monsters be the end of them.

“We’ll bring them home, Lucy.”

Loke’s soothing words replayed, and she felt her heart ease. That’s right. He promised he would bring their friends home, where Wendy could heal them. She smiled. Of course. What had she been thinking? Erza and Natsu were probably already in the hall eating. The two of them bounced back quickly enough.

She pulled her lips into a tight line, drawing her attention to Gray. His ashen complexion and the sweat beading his brow spoke of pain. She only hoped it would pass sooner rather than later.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit her and she sighed deeply. The battle they had been in really did a number on her. She had called on nearly every spirit in her arsenal, including Gemini to perform Urano Metria after she ultimately had to call on Loke. Even the Magic of the Stars hadn’t been enough to destroy the demons.

But a nagging thought pulled at her, the image of a fire dragon slayer coming to mind - a silly grin, blood dripping down his chin, an apology, and a shuddered breath. She swallowed thickly, remembering a bloody halo framing a queen, a cry of denial from her comrade, and the comforting embrace of a lion.

Every breath she expelled felt hollow in her chest. Her eyes turned as the door to the infirmary opened, revealing a small, elderly man and a silver-haired barmaid. “Ah, it’s good to see you awake,” he greeted.

Makarov’s expression spoke volumes, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “Master… Mira…,” Lucy mumbled as tears came to her eyes. Her chest constricted painfully, breathing becoming hard. She didn’t want to ask - didn’t want them to confirm what she already knew.

Their master stood at her bedside, his usually warm eyes hardened with grief. “Lucy, my dear. How are you feeling?”

She shook her head dismissively, wide eyes staring at her guildmates with building panic. “He’s… He’s gone, isn’t he?” she whispered. “Him and Erza and Happy…”

Mirajane sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand gently, She rubbed soothing circles over her skin with the pad of her thumb, but stayed silent, giving Lucy all the confirmation she needed.

This isn’t real.

“I should’ve never let you take that mission. The outcome is my burden to bear,” Makarov explained, knowing his words held little weight if he could even begin to suspect what Lucy had witnessed. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed deeply, wanting to further ask her exactly what had transpired on that battlefield, but seeing the crumbling expression on her face, he knew it wasn’t the time. First, they needed to grieve.

The emptiness in Lucy’s heart began to consume her. Brown eyes welled up and tears fell down her bandaged face, lips trembling.

This can’t be real.

Mirajane folded her hand over Lucy’s tighter, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Natsu, Erza, and Happy,” the takeover mage spoke, her voice hitching. “They didn’t make it. They all died in battle.”

At first there was silence - a misty haze upon the horizons of Lucy’s mind. That’s where she kept her emotions bottled up. That was… until now. She could feel the hard, painful lump in the back of her throat as the tears fell faster. Slowly, her breathing hollowed itself and a small, but intense pain struck the top nerve in her head.

Her upper body and shoulders wracked with every sob that forced its way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as she gasped for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, covering her mouth with her hand as the tears dripped between her fingers. Before she knew it there was shouting, it was hers, and yet it seemed too distant. Time had fast forward. She couldn’t remember the briefest of moments. All she saw was her own fists grasping at her celestial keys for comfort, her tear-stained sheets. She even recognized her own voice repeating, “No, no, no!”

Then there were arms around her and she was being smothered by the scent of cake batter and alcohol. She faintly heard a soothing voice in her ear as her body shook with heartache.

Please don’t let me believe this is real!

It couldn’t have lasted long though, the screaming. A rushing sound filled her ears and all she knew were her hysterical cries that shook the infirmary walls. Deep down, she had known Natsu had died. He had taken his final breath in her arms with a smile on his face. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. If she didn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true.

But here was someone else, someone else outside the realms of her mind that confirmed one of her deepest fears. Natsu… Erza… Happy… Their teammates. Their friends. Their family. They were all gone.

It took awhile for Lucy to finally calm down, for her to lift her face from Mirajane’s chest, which had been soaked with her tears. She glanced between them, their expressions twisted into one she was sure mirrored her own - filled with grief and despair.

And then her gaze landed on Gray, who remained blissfully unconscious through it all. “Wh-Where are they?” Lucy croaked, her voice hoarse from crying.

“The Thunder Legion just brought them home,” Makarov explained. “They will have a proper Fairy Tail send off.”

“Send off,” she echoed, scoffing bitterly as she pushed the tears from her cheeks. “Sounds like they’re just leaving the guild.”

Mirajane squeezed her hand affectionately, her own face red and blotchy from crying, as she turned her attention to Makarov. “Everyone from the guild will be arriving soon,” she reminded quietly. “They’ll have questions.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll have to make an announcement. I’ve already started on the arraignments.”

Lucy hiccupped, feeling a new wave of tears sting her eyes. “I-I can’t…”

The barmaid looked at her with concern. “Lucy, I’m here for you. I can stay with you if you want.”

She shook her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, as she pulled her hand free from Mirajane’s grasp. “No, you need to go with Master,” she reasoned. “I… I want to be alone.”

There was hesitation, and then she nodded robotically. She opened her mouth to speak, but they both knew there was nothing to say.

This was when the heroes, armed with the strength and courage of old, dueled against the ancient evil…

And lost.

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zenithlux · 5 years ago

Text

Cadence Update - CH 25

Catch up on the full story here!

One soul's cry, A passion dwelling within Sacrifice, A final plea to her kin Yet this bond of hope, by treachery was broke Scattering her words to the wind

Dragonsong - Final Fantasy 14

---------------

At first, Kuro’s lessons were simple and mundane, yet Vergil found that they weren’t altogether unpleasant. He had always enjoyed learning, even as a child. And, surprisingly, Kuro was very forthcoming. Every question Vergil asked was answered without hesitation or scorn. It was clear that the dragon wanted him to learn. He wanted Vergil to absorb as much information as possible, though Vergil still didn’t quite understand why.

That, however, was a question for another time.

“Your feelings toward her will change,” Kuro said after a rather lengthy conversation on the logistics of summoning oneself without stealing Roxy’s power. It was actually a simple concept; find a less powerful form that doesn’t tax her, and Vergil would be able to summon himself whenever he wanted. He assumed as long as he didn’t trigger, he’d be fine.

“How so?”

“A pact binds two souls into one entity,” Kuro said. “You will still be yourself, of course. And you will be able to break the pact once all of this is over. But as long as it is active, your biggest concern will be her.” The dragon sat back as his eyes drifted to the sky. “It’s difficult to explain without experience, but it is vastly different than the feelings humans have towards each other.”

“My human half may not feel it.”

“You will,” Kuro said. “Every familiar does.”

That did explain why his own familiars had been so willing to throw themselves in harm's way to protect him. Most demons were compelled to protect themselves at any cost. But Shadow in particular had always been there, manifesting in any way she could to ward off other demons. Vergil had assumed it was simply her nature. He hadn’t realized how close their bond actually was.

“Strong familiars have what Roxy and I call a ‘mindscape’”

Vergil blinked as his mind caught up to the change in conversation. “A mindscape?”

“It’s a place that familiars like us can retreat to. Because our souls are much stronger, we require actual space around our summoner’s soul. Other familiars like Aki simply go to sleep when they disappear. It won’t be that simple for you.”

“So I’ll have my own home within her mind?”

Kuro nodded. “Should you spend an extended time with her, you’ll learn how to bend it to your will without affecting her own consciousness. It’s a delicate balance of power between both souls. The better you control your mindscape, the better you control the flow of energy between you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“It will take time to undo the pact no matter what happens,” Kuro said. “Your presence alone will put extreme pressure on her soul, especially if you are sharing the space with myself.”

Vergil paused, carefully considering his next question. “Is there a chance the pact could kill her?”

Kuro was silent for so long that Vergil wondered if he’d even heard the question. But when the dragon did speak, it was the softest Vergil had ever heard him. “Your strength is remarkable, but the power of the Qliphoth fruit was never meant for a human. You tolerate it because of your lineage, but it could overwhelm her the moment your souls connect.”

Vergil’s heart fell as he glanced at the cottage. The thought of losing her… because of his foolish pursuit for power…

“She is strong, Vergil,” Kuro said. “And you hold no ill-will toward her. As long as you genuinely wish to protect her, your soul will intervene.”

“Can I heal her?”

Kuro paused again. This time, however, he looked genuinely perplexed, as if the question hadn’t even crossed his mind. Odd. Vergil assumed that would be one of the most important things for him to learn. “It will take time,” The dragon said slowly. “You will have to learn where to channel your energy, but with practice, I believe you can. However, you shouldn’t have to.”

“Prepare for the worst, right?”

“Indeed.” He raised his head. “It’s time.”

Vergil glanced over to see a small, blue portal snap open. His eyes widened as Nero was the one to step out first, followed by a stunned Nico and annoyed Dia. “Roxanna!” The demoness yelled. Roxy appeared at the front door almost immediately, and Vergil wondered how long she’d been listening to their conversation.

“Did you figure it out?”

Nico beamed as she held out a sheathed sword in Roxy’s direction. While it wouldn’t compare to Yamato (what would, honestly?), Vergil was rather impressed. The sheath was dark blue with swirls of a lighter blue that looked like ice wrapped around the blade. A ribbon hung near the hilt with two snowflakes dangling off the ends. The hilt itself was wrapped identically to Yamato, but with a mix of blues like the sheath itself. When Roxy gently drew the blade, Vergil could tell that the blade was as sharp as a human could make it. “It’s perfect,” Roxy said with a smile.

“I went with the ice theme since I figured you might want to use it after all of this is over.” Nico laughed as she glanced at Vergil. “Assuming V-man’s up to teach ya.”

Roxy blushed, and it only darkened when Vergil nodded. Dia snorted. “You can deal with that another time.”

“Right.” Roxy clicked the blade back into its place and moved to Vergil’s side. “Are you ready?”

After a deep breath, Vergil stood and reached for the blade. “I am.”

“Are we sure about this?” Nero said.

“We don’t have any other choice,” Vergil said. “Where’s Dante?”

“He stayed with Kyrie and the others,” Nero rubbed the back of his neck. “We weren’t letting Nico go alone,” he glanced at Dia. “No offense.” The demoness huffed, but didn’t say anything else. “I just… Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Vergil said. “I can do this, Nero.”

“I’m not concerned about that.”

“Then what…?”

“What if you have to stay with her?” Nero said. “Are you… okay with that?”

“I was staying with her anyway.”

Nero scowled. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Nero,” Vergil said. “I know what I’m getting into, and I’m ready to accept the possibility.” After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and rested his hand on Nero’s shoulder. The younger devil-hunter froze, eyes wide, but didn’t pull away. “This will work, Nero. I promise.”

Finally, Nero nodded. “Alright. Just be careful.”

Vergil nodded and moved back to Roxy’s side. Kuro moved toward them, his tail wrapping at Roxy’s feet. She looked up at him with a smile and patted his scales in encouragement. “Everything is going to be fine.”

He looked down at her with a reverence Vergil hadn’t seen before. “I know.” He leaned forward and breathed a soft breath of ice onto the sword. It glowed a bright blue, and the image of snowflakes remained on the blade as the dragon pulled away. “Take good care of it.”

Roxy grinned as she turned back to Vergil and held the sword out toward him. “Every pact begins with a promise,” She said “So, Vergil. What do you ask of me?”

Even though Kuro had prepared him for such a question, Vergil still took his time. If he did have to stay with her for an extended period, then this promise was the most important part. They needed this connection to work for as long as it took to erase Mundus’ hold on him. These promises had to mean something, and Vergil refused to waste it. “Don’t let me fall to him,” he said. “No matter what happens, I entrust my soul to you.”

She intertwined their fingers and nodded. “And what do you promise me?”

After another quiet and purposeful pause, Vergil lowered his voice and said, “I promise to protect you.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb, earning a soft blush as her gaze remained on his. “No matter what dangers we face or what demons we have to fight, I will remain by your side.” Her lips parted in something akin to surprise, but it quickly shifted into a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” she said as she held Nico’s sword out between them. A flicker of blue light pulsed from the weapon. It slithered up her arm, reappearing as veins of blue along her cheeks. Her eyes turned a deep shade of blue for a brief moment, but it vanished when she blinked. The energy retreated, and Vergil wondered if he would get to see the marks their pact would give her. Would it be something unassuming to signify its temporary nature? Would it be as lavish as the ones his own familiars gave him? Something in between?

“With these promises,” She whispered. “Our pact is sealed.”

Vergil gasped in surprise as energy slammed against his chest. Electricity pulsed through every fiber of his being, seizing his muscles and locking him in place. The veins of blue light returned to Roxy’s skin as she closed her eyes. Vergil heard Nero’s voice somewhere over everything, but between whatever was happening and Dia’s loud ‘hush, child’, Vergil couldn’t guess what his son had said. Instead, his world was entirely focused on Roxy.

At that moment, he finally understood what Kuro had been trying to tell him. She was his everything. As long as this pact existed, his life didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her.

That should have scared him. It would have terrified a much younger him. But Vergil was relieved. This was finally the purpose he had been looking for. Something much stronger than a simple caretaking job. It didn’t matter how long their pact lasted; Vergil would not forget this feeling.

Then, everything snapped.

Roxy gasped in shock. Her eyes snapped open, and Vergil was startled at how blue they were. Then, he realized that Kuro was howling; a horrible screech that vibrated the world itself. Beside them, the dragon collapsed on his side, head slamming at Roxy’s feet. Vergil barely caught her before she dropped with a scream. Nero was by their side in an instant, but cursed as a spark of energy shocked him when he reached for Vergil. “What happened?” Vergil said as his gaze moved to Kuro. Roxy crumbled in Vergil’s arms.

No.

There, buried deep in Kuro’s chest, was Yamato.

Laughter erupted around them. Vergil’s eyes jerked to the trees where a man somewhere around his age stood, arms crossed as he stared down at them. Except Vergil knew immediately that this purple haired, dark skinned, and slightly scaled person was not a human at all. Archdemon. “My master was curious, Son of Sparda,”

“You did this.”

The demon rolled his eyes. “My brother has been a nuisance for far too long. Split him from his host and he has nothing left.” A blast of ice struck the tree, but the demon didn’t move. “Pitiful as usual.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Kuro hissed, his breaths heavy as he struggled and failed to stand.

“Of course,” He said. “I’ve forced Nelo here to make a choice.” He tilted his head with a wide, predatory grin. “Save the girl, or reclaim his power.”

What?

“Better hurry…”

Then, Roxy’s heart stopped.

Panic surged through Vergil as his gaze shot to hers. She wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. Her eyes and mouth were wide open, but there was no life in them. Kuro’s head shifted beside them, but Vergil could see the pain in every move the dragon made. “Vergil,” He said. “Please,” His head flopped back to the side, shaking the ground. “Take my power… save her…” Blood pooled around them. Roxy’s face paled. Her heart was still silent. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” When his claw raised, Vergil understood.

Take his power and the sword, his own demon whispered. Abandon the girl… without her, you’ll be invincible.

V’s voice scoffed. If you need me to tell you what to do, then you’ve already failed.

Power is all you’ve ever wanted.

But now you’ve found something so much more.

“Her heart,” Vergil whispered. “You’re fueling her heart.”

“Her heart is my own,” Kuro said. “She needs a demon who can keep it beating… we’re running out of time.”

Without a second of hesitation, Vergil said, “Do it,”

He knew what was coming.

He knew it would hurt.

But even he wasn’t prepared for the agony he felt when Kuro’s claw plunged through his chest.

A terrible burning sensation ripped through his body and nearly overwhelmed him in an instant. After that was the agony from the stabbing itself. He felt his body tear. He felt it rush to try and heal even though there was no room to do so. He couldn't breathe. He could barely think. It felt like his body was disintegrating on the spot as its pieces were torn into another world entirely.

It was the most excruciating pain he’d ever felt, yet all he could think about was her.

“Hold on, Roxy,” He reached for her through the agony. “Hold on.”

Then, he plummeted into darkness.

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #dmc #fan fiction #vergil #nero #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy #familiars lore #post-DMC5

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cruelangelstheses · 5 years ago

Text

every nasty thought

fandom: dragon age rating: T characters: anders/hawke words: 2.4k additional tags: canon compliant, mental illness, ocd, trichotillomania, angst with a happy ending, intrusive thoughts, solitary confinement, gender neutral hawke description: anders has been dealing with intrusive thoughts his whole life. an exploration of anders’s character through the lens of ocd and trichotillomania. a/n: HELLO i’ve been very busy recently and haven't had much time to write but i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while based somewhat on my experience (im projecting lol) so i banged this out for day 5 of @proandersweek - neurodivergent anders! title from “obsessions” by marina and the diamonds. for the full tag list that goes into a bit more of specifics wrt the intrusive thoughts, check the ao3 link

read it on ao3

—

After Anders’s magic manifests for the first time, in the quiet solitude of his bedroom, he finds his fingers itching with the power in his blood. It was always there, he supposes, but now he knows it’s there. Now he can feel it, can recognize the fire always pulsing through his veins, the sparks he could bring to his fingertips in an instant if he so willed it. The magic calls to him, like the feeling of standing at the edge of a cliff and wondering how it would feel to jump, or like a book he’s forbidden to read. The world screams danger, but his hands ache to break the rules.

He’s not stupid. He knows what would happen if anyone in the village discovered his powers. Still, it feels strange trying to continue on living as if nothing has changed now that he knows what he is. Suddenly he no longer feels perfectly at home; when he looks around at his friends and neighbors, all he can think of is how he’s different. He no longer feels like one of them.

Anders lives in a small house in a small village, so he doesn’t get a whole lot of privacy. Before he found out he was a mage, he didn’t really mind it. He likes having friends, likes having a group of people he can think of as his second family. He likes talking to the neighbors and helping to take care of animals or children. Now, though, he finds himself wishing for some alone time, a place where he can practice his magic without getting caught. He’ll sometimes conjure ice in his bedroom at night, but other than that, he doesn’t really have anywhere to go. He could maybe practice in the barn when nobody’s in it, but he’s afraid he might harm one of the animals.

The desire to learn spells, the temptation of the taboo, wages war with Anders’s fear of hurting someone. The thoughts come late at night, when he’s lying awake overthinking, but they also come in the middle of the day, when he’s walking around in the village square or talking with a friend: I could kill any one of these people. I could do it right now if I’m not careful. What if I snap and electrocute my father? What if I try to pet one of the barn cats and accidentally freeze it?

Anders has had distressing thoughts before, thoughts of someone he loves dying, or thoughts of being harmed himself. The difference this time is simply that he’s talked about these kinds of thoughts with his mother; he’s had her remind him that his fears are unfounded, that he’s safe, that they’re all safe. He still feels the need to perform rituals, like feeding the animals just the right amount of food or touching both his shoulders with his fingertips when he wakes up each morning, to ensure that nothing bad will happen, but when he has someone in his corner, the thoughts don’t consume him as much as they could if he were dealing with them alone.

Unfortunately, his newest obsessions all have to do with him being a mage. He can’t even attempt to use logic to fight the bad thoughts, because all of his fears are not only possible, but probable. It’s all he’s ever heard about mages. They can snap at any moment. They can kill twenty people in one fell swoop. They can lose control. They need to be locked up, for everyone else’s safety. He can’t confide in anyone, can’t rely on anyone to tell him that he isn’t going to set his friends on fire. So he deals with the thoughts in silence, the fear mounting with every passing day.

It’s around this time, then, that Anders starts pulling at his hair.

He likes keeping it fairly long, though he often puts it up in a ponytail so it doesn’t get in his face while he’s working or playing. There are always stray hairs, though, and soon he finds that they serve two purposes: to give his fingers something to do so that they no longer twitch with energy, and to help him cope with his obsessions. When he pulls, he goes into a trance, his mind almost empty as he focuses on the feeling of the hair on his fingertips, the slight pinch when he plucks it from his scalp. It’s oddly satisfying, even calming, and it makes him feel safe.

—

About a month after that first surge of magic bloomed in his hands, Anders accidentally starts a fire in the barn.

They get all the animals out in time, but his secret is out. His parents saw him trip and fall, saw as his hand shot out a blast of fire. It may have been his body’s method of self-defense, but it doesn’t matter, because now his mother is looking at him with tears in her eyes, and his father is staring at him in horror.

“I—I’m sorry,” he sputters desperately. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, it won’t happen again, I—”

His mother steps toward him and puts her arms around him, but his father might as well not have heard him. Anders has to fight the urge to push his mother away, the terror crowding in his head: You have no self-control. You’re going to kill her. You’re going to kill your own mother like the monster you are.

That night, Anders lies awake in bed, listening to his parents argue back and forth. His mother wants to protect him. His father, however, thinks it would be best to call the templars. Anders can hear the fear in his voice: fear not just of magic, but of him, his own son, twelve years old and a danger to everyone around him.

Anders pulls almost frantically at the hair on his scalp, but it doesn’t feel like enough, so he starts pulling at his eyebrows too, the coarser hair providing a different sensation. If he pulls enough, maybe it’ll serve as penance.

By morning, his eyebrows are half gone, the skin bright red and rubbed raw. His father contacts the templars anyway. His friends and neighbors stop talking to him. All Anders can think is that it wasn’t enough.

—

It’s strange. His obsessions tell him that he is dangerous, that he needs to be locked up to protect everyone else, that he will kill innocent people if left unchecked. Yet, on his good days, days where he’s better able to fend off those thoughts, he decides that the Circle is bad. In his moments of clarity, Anders recognizes his desire to be free. He daydreams about being able to live a life without being a slave to the Chantry or to his own fears. He starts taking an interest in healing spells in the hope that he can challenge the idea in his mind that magic means pain.

Anders soon realizes that everything he’s been told about mages is a lie. He meets mages who are in complete control, who have been studying magic for decades, people who could live outside of the Circle for the rest of their lives and probably never fall prey to a demon or hurt a civilian with their magic. He meets mages who are compassionate and kind. He meets mages that he could dare to love.

His year in solitary confinement is the worst year of his life. Alone with no one but himself and nothing to do but sit and think, his brain has a fucking field day. This is for the best, you know, it tells him the first few days. You should be locked up in here forever, not just a year. You could snap at any moment. You could kill an apprentice. You would’ve if they hadn’t put you in here.

His mind blames him for Karl being transferred to Kirkwall, has been blaming him for years. He got too comfortable. He let himself feel happiness, feel love. He didn’t perform his rituals enough, didn’t pull enough, and because of it Karl is gone.

During his time in the Circle, his obsessions sometimes take a more religious turn, probably due to the immense amount of Chantry ideology that permeates every corner. He’s gone through periods where all he can think about is how he is unworthy in the eyes of the Maker, how his magic is punishment for all the horrible things inside him, and his time in solitary is no exception. He has intrusive thoughts about the intrusive thoughts. You’re an affront to the Maker. You think about killing your peers and loved ones, and for that you’re going to suffer for eternity. He uses praying and repenting as one of his rituals in the vain hope that it’ll make his brain stop, just stop.

Then the thoughts take a turn for the morbid. He has visions of hurting himself, of electrocuting or immolating himself, of digging his fingernails into his skin until he draws blood or hitting his head against the wall so hard he passes out. I could do it. I could do it right now. I could set myself on fire and be done with it. The thought terrifies him. He doesn’t want to die. He just wants to be able to live.

It’s during solitary, though, that he has his revelation, a revelation that he feels he should’ve figured out a long time ago: all of his obsessions are about things that are the exact opposite of what he really thinks or wants. He doesn’t want to kill. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t truly believe that the Maker gives people magic to punish them. And he certainly doesn’t believe that he should be locked up forever simply for an accident of birth.

Two things make his time in solitary bearable: that realization, and the cat Mister Wiggums, who listens to him talk about these things without judgment, and who curls up in his lap when he senses that Anders is in distress. He pulls a lot of his hair out, though. When he’s let back out, the other mages comment that he looks like a different person.

—

Anders isn’t sure if merging with Justice has made things better or worse. On the one hand, it’s comforting, having a friend always with him in some way. On the other, now he has a new fear to obsess over: the fear that Justice will take over and hurt someone.

He realizes, though, that that fear is actually just one of his old fears, rebranded to look like something new. He’s come full circle. He’s twelve years old again, unsure how to handle this newfound power, feeling out of control and hurtling into a strange world.

—

Kirkwall’s Circle is awful, and Darktown is...well, Darktown, but the people that visit Anders in his clinic make it worth it.

It’s incredible, seeing ordinary people, refugees from the Blight, who look at him not with fear but with respect and even a sort of reverence. Children whose sicknesses he’s healed gaze up at him with a spark in their eyes and a thank you on their lips. Even people who aren’t sick or injured start to visit him every once in a while, to check up on him or talk to him or even give him a couple bandages, in the case of Lirene. He hears about them sticking their necks out for him when templars comes snooping around—for him, an apostate mage with obsessions that have made him believe he’s nothing but a danger to everyone around him. It doesn’t make the thoughts stop—nothing does—but it makes them easier to bear, at least somewhat.

Anders’s hair has mostly grown back since his time in solitary, but his eyebrows are a bit sparse, and he still sort of looks like he’s balding already, at the ripe old age of thirty-two. He’s not usually very self-conscious about his looks, but he’ll admit, it catches him off guard when the next person to take an interest in him is none other than a fellow apostate and Fereldan refugee named Hawke, who turns to him one night a few weeks after their initial meeting and says, “You know I’m not kidding when I flirt with you, right?”

It comes out of nowhere. They’re heading down to Lowtown to check out a job. Behind them, Hawke’s brother scoffs in annoyance, and the dwarf, Varric, chuckles knowingly.

Anders raises an eyebrow, suddenly aware of how he must look. Hawke is younger and more muscled than he is, with thick, dark hair that’s probably softer and smoother than his. “You’re...not?” he says slowly. He has to refrain from asking, What do you even see in me? He already warned Hawke to stay away from him, and he hasn’t been able to figure out if the subsequent flirting was serious or not.

Hawke laughs. “Of course not. You’re passionate. You’re serious when you need to be, but you’re also funny. You understand me. You’re attractive. You’re—”

Anders holds a hand up, unable to contain the surprised little smile working its way onto his face. “Did you just say I’m attractive?”

Hawke snorts. “That’s what you got from all that?”

“No, I—” Anders lowers his hand as they both laugh. “It’s just...kind of startling. I mean, even when I’m like...this?” He gestures to all of himself. Hawke noticed his hair-pulling not too soon after they met, and Anders decided he might as well explain at least a little bit of his state of mind.

The fact that Hawke didn’t leave after that, didn’t even seem too fazed, was enough for Anders to trust them almost completely. He’s only told two other people about his obsessions: his mother and Karl. Thank you for not running away, he’d said after he told Hawke about Justice, and he felt the need to say it again then. He feels like he needs to say it now, too, like if he says it enough times, it’ll erase everything bad that could ever happen.

Hawke flashes him a soft smile, eyes twinkling. “Yes, even when you’re like that.”

Hawke’s brother gags exaggeratedly, so Hawke turns around and makes an obscene hand gesture at him. In the back of his mind, Anders hears those familiar voices threatening to take hold again, telling him that he’ll only hurt Hawke if he allows himself to get close. They’ll never really go away, he knows, but he has someone in his corner, and that makes all the difference.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #anders #proandersweek #handers #hawke #da2 #dragon age ii #my fics #im making myself cry over here but its Fine

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junionigiri · 5 years ago

Text

and you say, stay Chapter 5 - Fly Me To The Moon

[former title: just another secretary story!]

Summary: Director Todoroki takes Secretary Uraraka out after work.

Rating: T

The Office of the Executive Director begins the next day in abject and utter suffering. Struggling through their hangovers, they each draft out their gravely-worded apology letters while passing out a bottle of aspirin between them.

“Oh my god, I can’t even remember how we got home, Kiri!” Mina whines, slapping a cold compress over her forehead. “I woke up on the bedroom floor feeling like I got punched in the face! Where were you? You should have carried me to bed!”

“I was home too,” Kirishima groans through a hefty chug of his protein shake. “I passed out on the stairs, remember? I felt so bad I couldn’t do a single dragon flag this morning! Not manly!”

“I, too, awakened in a most uncomfortable position! My head was at the foot of my bed, my feet were on my pillows, and my pyjamas were inside-out!” Iida adds in utter humiliation. “How did we arrive home safely? Did the Director teleport us home, somehow?”

“No, he drove all of us home,” Ochako answers, gathering all their letters for them. “So you should all thank him when you can, okay?

“Really? The Director was there last night?” Monoma grumbles irately. “Figures. All I remember is the vague stench of evil and existential dread. I bet I drank so much so I can ignore his demonic aura.”

Camie snorts. “Cuz, you sat right in the bossman’s lap. You got no rights anymore.”

“What?!”

Monoma demands to see evidence, and Camie happily complies to everyone’s horror. Her many blurry selfies of the night before painted an awful, embarrassing picture. Only the owner of the phone finds this amusing. Her promises not to upload anything can only do so much to stave off the shame.

“Utsushimi-kun! I implore you to get rid of this evidence!” Iida begs.

Camie hums. “Change my mind. You can start with an orange frappuccino~”

As another argument goes forth, Ochako leaves them with an amused smile and makes her way to Director Todoroki’s office.

With a gentle knock, she enters the room and finds him seated behind his computer. Unlike her officemates, there is no evidence of a headache or exhaustion in him. It would have been infuriating if she had the same terrible hangover as the rest of them, but luckily she watched her intake last night and her head’s clear.

Not-so-luckily though, she clearly remembers laughing at the Director and everyone else. And she can’t pretend to forget if he asks her about it, because just thinking about everyone cuddling the Director makes her want to burst out laughing again.

Because of that, she places the apology letters over to his desk with her own letter on the top of the pile. “Here is all that you asked us to accomplish, Director,” she says as politely as she can.

Todoroki hums in disinterest, eyes not moving from a set of data on his computer. It’s obvious that he’s going to ask her to shred these documents later without so much as reading them. It’s some small relief for them at least, because then they can pretend none of this happened. “Asui from Marketing requested an emergency meeting with us about the art center project. You have all the proposals for the launch ready, right?”

“Of course, Director. We just need the Chairman’s approval. I’ve already sent an email to their office about it.”

He clicks his tongue and tugs on his tie in thought. “Send another reminder to Takami-san. I need an answer before lunch.”

“Yes, Director,” Ochako says, eyeing his fingers on the tie. While at first she hated that she had to fix his tie for him so often, it’s now a point of pride for her to keep the Director looking neat at all times. So much so that it annoys her to see it so crooked.

It’s pure muscle memory at this point that she’s stepping over to his side and her hands are flying to his tie, pulling at it expertly until it’s tidy. She took all the trouble convincing him that morning that he can wear this diamond-patterned tie instead of the solid dark blue ones that he preferred. She has to make sure that he looks perfect.

“You’re perfect.” Satisfied with the results, she looks up at him and directly meets his eyes.

The demon Director’s stare is famous for a lot of reasons--the color, the intensity, the way they make you feel like you’re both burning alive and freezing at the same time. It’s not a metaphor Ochako likes because being burned must feel terrible (his scar tells a story all on its own), and also she’s used to being the target of that stare when he’s irritated or dissatisfied, so she knows it in a way that cannot be enjoyed.

But now he’s staring at her the way he was last night at her doorstep. The burning feeling behind it is less like fire and more like the warmth of her blood rushing through her veins and the throb of her pulse. It’s intense, unwavering. Ochako’s hypnotized for exactly half a second too long.

“Thanks,” he says absentmindedly. “I could have done that myself.”

She snaps herself out of the trance. “With all due respect Director, you didn’t. But, noted.”

All the strange thoughts fly out of the window of the 65th floor office. It’s good that she’s reminded of how infuriating he is. His vague warning about how he shouldn’t underestimate her might be making her see him in a different (inaccurate) light, but she should know better. She bows and turns with a suppressed huff when he calls to her again, “Secretary Uraraka.”

She turns to him. After a thoughtful pause, he asks, “You speak with your colleagues differently, don’t you?”

She blinks. “Not that I know of, Director. Has anyone sent a complaint about the way I speak? I should apologize and clear up any misunderstandings--”

“No, not them.” He gestures out the door. “Iida and the others. Last night you spoke with them informally. Using ‘ sure thing’ or ‘ yup’ instead of ‘ of course,’ for example.”

“I… see.” Gosh, he sounds so weird just trying to talk in a casual way. “It’s only when we’re drinking. But if it offends you...”

He shakes his head. “It’s… fine. In fact, you may use that sort of language with me. Provided that it’s just the two of us, of course.”

Ochako stares at him incredulously. “Beg yer pardon?” she mutters by accident.

“Yes, like that.” Todoroki gives her a reassuring nod. “That’s what they call the Kansai accent, right?”

She tries not to slip into her accent again when she asks, “May I know what brought this on, Director?”

“Are you offended?”

“No, but… this is a strange request.”

He shrugs. “You seemed more comfortable speaking that way instead of the usual way you converse with me. Since I am giving the same freedom to Utsushimi, I am granting you the same thing.”

Well, Camie hasn’t talked to him directly since the interview and since she got drunk in front of him so she can’t say that it’s exactly the same freedom. Plus Ochako isn’t sure that the Director is just telling her that she can talk more naturally around him, or if he’s commanding her to do so. Frankly it’s making her sweat figuring out what he wants.

“If you say so, Director. Of course I’ll--”

“Not of course, ” Todoroki insists. “ Sure thing .”

Ochako gives him a strained smile. “S-sure thing, sir. I’ll keep it casual in front of you.”

Director Todoroki nods in satisfaction and gets back to work. Ochako walks out of the office and tries to do the same thing, but it’s suddenly hard to concentrate.

A few days later Ochako comes home tired as all hell and not in the best mood, as she does when the Demon Director is extra demonic. Honestly, for all his talk about wanting her to be more comfortable around him, he’s making it impossible for her to even breathe normally within his vicinity.

The art center project is now top priority to beat their competitors, so suddenly the office is rushing through all the things they were scheduled to do for the next two months, over the course of three weeks. The stocks of energy drinks and orange juice in the pantry is running dangerously low from their efforts to keep awake. It’s so bad that Monoma was even caught drinking ‘peasant’ instant coffee instead of his usual French press ones.

And Camie… oof. Ochako knows that she’s trying her best and that this is a lot of pressure for someone who’s new to the team, but she missed one of the financial reports completely during the staff meeting. And while both of them apologized for her mistake, Todoroki only directed his ice-cold glare at Ochako.

“Is this how you do transfer of duties, Secretary Uraraka?” She flinches just remembering the cutting edge of his voice. She hates it when he uses that because even though his standards are impossibly high, it tells her that he expected more from her, and she let him down.

Well at least she’s home an hour earlier than usual. Director Todoroki told her not to collect Victoria at his home as previously ordered. There’s just enough time for her to eat the convenience store katsudon she got on the way home, take a bath, and watch her soaps before angrily passing out on her couch.

… if only her phone would stop ringing! It takes all of her strength not to throw her food over her kitchen table when she fishes for her phone. The name on the screen gives her pause, however, and she’s extra careful to mind her tone when she answers, “Chief Midoriya?”

Midoriya Izuku opens up their conversation with another alarming cough. Ochako wonders if this is merely an unfortunate butt-dial until he stammers over the line, “A-ah! Hi, Uraraka-san! This is Midoriya Izuku from Endeavor’s Marketing Division! Oh, wait, you know that already, haha.”

Ochako laughs cautiously. Even over the phone, Midoriya’s usual nervousness is palpable. “Yes sir! How may I help you?”

“Er, yeah! So there’s this urgent thing that I need your help with that’s, um, related to work. It… it’s not weird or anything, it’s totally normal, nothing to be alarmed about. So the Director wants--no, not the Director, I mean-- koff koff koff! ’

Midoriya suffers another coughing fit so violent that it sends Ochako close to panic. “Are you okay sir?! Do you need someone to take you to the hospital?!”

“No, I’m fiiine. Please don’t ask. ” The chief takes a deep breath through the phone which seems to calm him down somewhat. “I’m expecting a package for work, but Secretary Hagakure made a mistake with the shipping address. You’re the one closest, so I was wondering if you could pick it up for me?”

That sounded like a weird mistake to make, but she also knew about the time Tooru-chan accidentally ordered twenty Hawaiian pizzas instead of the single calzone that Chief Midoriya wanted to eat for lunch. “Where do you want me to go?”

Midoriya gives her the exact address and pleads with her to be there in twenty minutes. “I hate to be a bother, but this is important for the company, so you can’t be late, okay? I’m counting on you, Uraraka-san!”

“Okay Chief! I’m heading out,” she says, rushing to her door. Twenty minutes to the address given to her is tight, but she’ll make it if she runs to and from the train station.

It’s good that she changed out of her office heels and into sneakers. She makes it to the address in fifteen minutes. It’s only then that she realizes that she’s in the location without knowing who to look for and what to expect.

Also, she’s in front of MightyLand, the amusement park in the middle of town dedicated to their governor, All Might. It’s closed today for some reason. It’s dark, quiet, and scary as amusement parks which are completely dark tend to be.

Ochako calls Midoriya in pure confusion and tells him, “I don’t think I’m at the right place, Chief.”

Midoriya laughs. “You’re exactly where you should be, Uraraka-san.”

Wondering what he means, she turns around just as the lights click open all around her, and the stagnant water of the fountain at the entrance springs to life.

She almost drops the phone from her hand as the fake castle gates of MightyLand flash and glow in pinks and blues and greens, sparkling prettily under the night sky. Soft string music plays in the background. The lights along the pathway light up one-by-one like fireflies, guiding her eyes to the entrance of the park.

Breathless, she watches Todoroki Shouto emerge from the gates. And while her eyes dart everywhere trying to make sense of what’s happening, his eyes are on nowhere else but her.

“Secretary Uraraka,” he calls as soon as he’s in front of her. He’s in the same three-piece suit and tie she picked for him this morning, but somehow he looked impossibly devilish in it tonight. “Fancy meeting you here on this ordinary night.”

She should pick her jaw off the floor any second now. “G… good evening, Director Todoroki,” she stammers. “Chief Midoriya sent me here on an important errand. I’m afraid I don’t understand what--”

“I allowed you to speak as you normally do around me, Uraraka.”

“Er… yeah, so,” what the fuck, she wanted to say, but instead she squeaks out, “What’s goin’ on?”

Satisfied, he says with an enigmatic smile, “Nothing special. Come.”

He signals her to follow him with a bend of a forefinger, and with very little strength in her to ask any further questions, she silently follows him into the park.

She should have known that there wasn’t anything ordinary waiting for her that night.

Even though everything is lit up and functional, the park is entirely empty except for them. While Ochako is busy gawking at all the sights, Director Todoroki is leading the way with brisk, purposeful steps. It takes some effort for her to keep up with his relentless pace until he gets to the destination in mind. Before she realizes it, they’re at the Smashville area of the park, where all the big, scary rides are.

Ochako stares up in horror at Todoroki’s first choice of activity: The Carolina.

“It’s a drop tower, 100 meters tall. We rise to the top at an excruciating pace of 10 km/h and drop at a speed of 100 km/h. Not the tallest or the fastest in the world, but it’s in the top ten,” the unfazed Director explains like he’s talking about the latest performance review. He holds a hand out to the seat at the very center and says, with a smile that looks evil, “After you.”

Ochako doesn’t know how she wills her feet to move, but with nobody to help her escape, she gets strapped in right next to her calm boss.

“D-Director--”

“I know you’re excited,” Todoroki says when they’re fifty meters above ground. “Don’t hold back.”

There’s nothing to hold back, not even her internal organs, when the first drop occurs. And the next one, and the next one. Ochako screams as she’s never screamed before, while Todoroki is so silent that she legitimately worries if he passed out in the middle of the ride.

He didn’t. With a spring in his step, he hops off from the ride and assists her shaking body off the ride. “You must be excited. Don’t worry. There’s more to come.”

Oh, god.

He takes her to the other extreme rides: The Nebraska, The California, The Detroit. Ochako never imagined that there’s more than one way to drop and spin and tumble anyone via a machine, but with each new ride she loses part of her soul and all sensation of her legs. Todoroki’s unnervingly steady after each ride, however, and just brings her to the next one without an ounce of hesitation.

By the time he brings her to the coup de grace of all the rides--The United States of Smash, the biggest roller coaster in Japan--she’s sure of it. The Demon Director brought her here to punish her for all her misdeeds.

“You must be looking forward to this one all night, Secretary Uraraka,” Todoroki says with that same dark smile. “If you’re ready to get on, then…”

He wants to kill her.

Rushing to the nearest wastecan, she hurls up an entire rainbow consisting of all the colors of the energy drinks she ingested that day.

Dammit, how embarrassing! She would have cried but it already takes a lot of effort to stop the earth from spinning in the wrong direction. She hurls for another solid minute when she feels a cold, comforting hand tentatively rubbing circles on her back.

The rush of cool surprisingly makes her feel better in an instant. She stands up and bows to him apologetically. “Director… sorry. This is really icky,” she whimpers helplessly. “I’m super weak when it comes to rides like this. I get dizzy real easy.”

He holds out his expensive silk handkerchief to her. “No, it’s my mistake. I should have anticipated that you had weak labyrinths.”

Were her ears deceiving her, or did that sound like an apology? She takes his handkerchief and wipes her face gratefully. “No… you looked like you wanted to do all those things, so I did my best to keep up.”

Todoroki blinks. “Ah. But I thought you wanted to…” When Ochako stares at him curiously, he pauses and considers his next words carefully. “I assumed that you liked this amusement park like everybody else does. I must have made an error in judgment.”

She laughs weakly. “Nah, I’ve always wanted to go back to MightyLand… just not Smashville.”

He ponders on this briefly. “... okay.” He holds his hand out ahead of them and tilts his head ever so slightly. “Secretary Uraraka, for tonight, you lead and I’ll follow. What do you want to do next?”

She doesn’t hide her surprise at that. And thinks about it. And smiles excitedly.

A long walk to the other side of the park later, Director Todoroki looks up at her ride of choice blankly. “Space World.” he deadpans.

It’s a cutesy, slow ride made for kids that simulates a gentle ride through outer space, complete with planets and aliens and constellations. In front is a statue of Thirteen, the famous space explorer that she idolized when she was in grade school.

“Let’s go in right now!!! Hurry, Director!”

She can hardly believe it. She had promised herself to get on this ride after her resignation, and she’s even willing to line up with all the little kids on a busy weekend just to get here. Yet here she is, no lines, no embarrassing explanations necessary, just her and the Director and the fake stars. Once the little train brakes in front of her she’s climbing on it in an instant.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s dragging Todoroki by the hand until they’re side by side in the car and the lights grow dim around them.

“Oh. Sorry,” she squeaks, thankful that outer space is supposed to be dark and he doesn’t get to see her blush.

Even then, she feels his gaze on her. But he says nothing as the first comet passes them by.

Ochako gasps. It’s a lot prettier than she imagined. The narration drones above them as an emulation of the Big Bang blooms above and around them like a flower. “Oh my gosh, look at that! I can’t believe it, it feels so real! Director, isn’t this pretty?!”

She feels the subtle turn of Director Todoroki’s head toward her. “Yes. Beautiful,” he mumbles somewhere close to her. After a pause, he adds, “I don’t think it feels real, though. If it did, we’d be suffocating by now. There’s no oxygen in the vacuum of space.”

“Geez, Director, just enjoy it.”

“I am,” he assures her, as the little car follows Jupiter into orbit.

But just like that, the ride is over. Ochako is sad when they have to get off--that is, until Todoroki tells her, “We can stay here if you want to go again.”

So she happily pulls him down on the seat next to her, pulls the bar down, and goes through the ride again.

Seven more times.

To his credit, Todoroki sits with her the entire time without complaints. Although she hears him silently fuming in his seat every time she goes “again, again!” She’d feel guilty over it, but dammit he made her go through the Carolina and the Nebraska and the California and the Detroit--twice!--and she needed this after all that he put her through that week.

Anyway, she makes it more tolerable for him by telling him everything she knows about the planets and the stars that the narration doesn’t tell them. “You know, Saturn has 150 moons! Some of them are bigger on Earth, and most of them are frozen solid! Some of them might have oceans under the surface too!”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But keep going.”

Of course he knows everything. But he doesn’t seem to want to ruin her mood, so there’s that. She continues feeding him all the space facts she knew happily.

The moment she says “Okay I’m good,” Director Todoroki gets them off that ride so quickly he almost lifts her up off the seat. “Back to earth with you, Secretary Uraraka.”

She giggles. “Why, Director! Speaking figuratively? I didn’t think you knew how.”

He blinks, as if astonished with himself. “Huh. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

He drives her out of the park and into a different part of the city. There’s a field decorated with fairy lights, flowers (all hypoallergenic, he says when she braces herself for a sneeze attack) and a table set for two. Below them is the city, and above them are the stars. It’s mind boggling how beautiful the set-up is.

Todoroki leads her to the table. As soon as she sits down, there’s fancy vintage wine being poured in her glass. From a distance, she sees Sato doing finishing touches on a pretty plate. He winks at her when she catches his eye.

They’re served steak, and pasta, and fancy vegetables with violets on them. They’re all delicious as expected, but then Sato comes out with what seems like an unlimited supply of strawberry mochi for them and she’s instantly melting.

“Everything is so good, I can’t believe it,” she gushes. Oh man, the mochi is so good. If she kept up at it, she’s seriously going to explode.

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” There’s a smug look on his face when he says this. Dangerous…

“Director... what’s this about?” she asks suspiciously. This isn’t another ploy to get her to not quit, is it? If he ends up proposing again, she is seriously going to break something expensive (and probably regret it later).

He hums as he cuts up his mochi neatly. “We had a welcome party for Utsushimi. It’s only fair that you had a goodbye party of your own to show my appreciation before you leave. Nothing special, but something ordinary that you liked.”

No proposals then? That’s a relief. She was going to say no (really, she was!) if he had asked, and that would have ruined such a beautiful night. “Director… I’m sorry, but there’s nothing ordinary about what you did for me!”

He blinks. “Taking you to an amusement park and treating you to dinner isn’t ordinary?”

It’s almost amazing that he’s genuinely baffled, but then again she expected nothing less from Todoroki Shouto. “Closing an amusement park so we had it all to ourselves and then treating me to a five star dinner prepared by a famous chef to a picnic under the stars is not what I’d call an ordinary date, Director.”

Wait. Date? Did she say date? Is she out on a date with the Director?

“I see. I’ll take note of that.” Oh no, he didn’t deny it! “For next time.”

Next time?! Oh no. No no no. She can’t date the Director! Reiko and Yui would kill her if they found out! And she didn’t mean it, he suckered her into it, she didn’t want to, not really--

“But you really enjoyed yourself, so I consider this a success,” Todoroki says, satisfied. “You made me ride Space World seven times. I’d give you a salary deduction if you said you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

He is never going to let go of this, is he? Despite that, she laughs again. “I went overboard, didn’t I? It’s just that I’ve wanted to ride that since I was a little girl. You wouldn’t wanna hear it, it isn’t exactly a happy story.”

He stares at her. “Tell me.”

She swallows a bit of mochi reluctantly before starting her story with a sigh. “Well… Director, if you remember from my job interview nine years ago, I told you that I started working for you because I needed to earn money as quickly as possible. It’s obviously because my family wasn’t well-off, and I was the only one who can earn money somehow.”

“... I remember.”

“Well… even when I was little, we were poor. We lived where MightyLand was before the houses there got demolished, so that space is kind of special to us. Sometimes Ma and Pa had extra money to bring me and my cousin Yui there, but the money wasn’t ever enough for passes to get to rides like Space World. Even though I wished for it so hard, I never had the chance.”

Todoroki unexpectedly watches her tell her story in rapt attention. “I see. Why Space World?”

She shrugs. “Why not Space World? Outer space is great, isn’t it?”

She would have studied astrophysics in university if she could, but there’s no point in telling the Director that. He doesn’t seem like the type who feels guilty over anything, but she doesn’t want to test that by admitting that she chose to stay by his side instead of doing what she really wanted.

“So, that’s the sad, sad story of my youth. How about you, Director? You must have been a more interesting kid than I was.”

Todoroki keeps those distinct eyes on her--a black hole and an entirely blue galaxy, she suddenly thinks, moons with oceans hiding under frozen wastelands, the waves beneath straining to reach the surface. He seems to want to reveal them to her, just for a second, but the second passes, and time remains locked.

“No, not really,” he finally decides on saying. “Nothing much happened to me. I grew up as Enji’s heir from the start and worked hard from the moment I learned how to talk. I had no choice, because my older brother failed. Fuyumi and Natsuo were never given the chance to try.”

An older brother? Is he talking about Natsuo? While it’s true that Todoroki Natsuo won’t ever be the heir of Endeavor because he chose to become a physician instead, Ochako could have sworn the Director was talking about someone else.

“It was difficult, but I met most of his expectations, and now I’m here.” His eyes become cold again. Knowing that he gets this way after talking about Todoroki Enji is just the basics of dealing with Todoroki Shouto.

It was her mistake to even suggest bringing up his childhood. Now it’s her job to ease him out of it. “You did great, Director. If we were friends when we were kids, I’d have been the first to cheer you on.”

He freezes for just a second, a look of pure enigma in his eyes. “... is that so? Do you think we would have been friends if we met earlier?”

He seems to be expecting an honest answer out of her. Ochako guesses it has to do with certain parts of his past that he obviously doesn’t want her to see. She can’t blame him, but in all honesty, if they were both young and innocent, being friends with him wouldn’t have been hard. “Yes Director. I don’t doubt it.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. A second passes before he allows himself a relieved smile. “Thank you for your vote of confidence. I’d believe you more if you don’t quit.”

“Don’t even try it, sir.”

He clicks his tongue. And then, in true Todoroki fashion, the conversation’s suddenly over.

With the taste of strawberries lingering in her mouth, she follows as he leads them to a grassy knoll some ways away from dinner. Flowers of all colors surround their feet, glowing ethereally under the moonlight. The city below, the stars above. It’s a beautiful night.

And… cold. Ochako is painfully reminded that she’s in a thin silk blouse and the denim shorts she wore at home when a particularly sharp gust of wind blows past them.

Todoroki observes her with a stern look. “You’re not in appropriate clothing.”

“I didn’t know you were going to bring me to such a windy place, Director.”

“You weren’t supposed to know. This is a surprise, after all.”

Still, he looks frustrated that she’s so cold--not a good look. Her secretary instincts tell her to do something about that. Trying to smile meaningfully through her chattering teeth, she suggests, “You know, ordinary guys offer their jackets to their dates when it gets chilly.”

He blinks twice before he makes that eureka! face again. “I have an idea, Uraraka. Since you’re cold, you should wear my coat.”

“Oh--but you’ll get cold.”

“No, I’m always temperature regulated,” he says with a voice that doesn’t leave her much room to (pretend to) argue.

He drapes his coat around her easily. He’s much taller than her and has wider shoulders, so naturally she’s swallowed instantly in fine woollen bliss. She suppresses a sigh when she feels the toasty warmth, and suppresses a shudder when she feels his fingers brush around her shoulders and her neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks earnestly when he notices her shiver. His warm breath tickles her ear.

She nods through the overwhelming feel of his voice vibrating through her body. Oblivious to this, he nods in satisfaction and looks up at the stars. She stares at his profile against the moon, feeling light-headed and mesmerized at everything.

Oh, gods, this is a date . Reiko and Yui are going to kill her in her sleep.

When he notices her staring, he gives her an odd, puzzled look. “Secretary Uraraka. Since you like the stars so much, you should take advantage of this. I suggest keeping your eyes off me and keeping them to the sky.”

A vein pops on her forehead. Okay, so the Director is still the same clueless demon with no sense of romance. No surprise. This isn’t a date, after all.

She follows his orders and looks up at the sky, lined by a myriad of shooting stars.

After the star-gazing session, they both decide that it’s late and he brings her home. He drives the car, and thankfully this time the drive goes by smoothly. He parks at the narrow street in front of her home and follows her out of the car, looking strangely self-assured.

“Director, thanks for the great evening,” she says. “I’m honestly speechless. For a surprise, that was…”

A small smile is on his lips when he asks, “Ideal?”

“Yes, exactly, ideal.” Wait. Ideal. Where has she heard that before?

“Hm. I thought you’d say that,” he says smugly. “I doubt that anybody else will give you as much mochi as you had tonight.”

Describe your ideal partner.

A tall, handsome guy with a stable job who will feed me mochi until I explode!

“And I don’t think anyone else will bring you to an amusement park and a picnic under the stars in the span of a single evening.”

Describe an ideal excursion with your ideal partner.

A date in MightyLand, where we can ride all the rides I like as much as I want!

A simple picnic with tasty food where we can go stargazing afterward is pretty neat too!

This guy is a sneaky, sneaky bastard. Ochako crosses her arms in front of her as Director Todoroki ambles confidently to the trunk of his car. “Finally, I doubt that any other ordinary man will give you…”

Describe an ideal product that you would like to receive from your ideal partner.

A giant stuffed toy that I can hug in my sleep!

(I don’t care what it looks like as long as it’s soft and cute!)

“Director,” she cuts him off with a controlled smile. “There’s… a giant stuffed toy in the back of the trunk, isn’t there?”

Todoroki freezes just as he pulls out the offending item--a giant stuffed cat.

“... how did you predict this,” he says stiffly as he presents the gift to her.

She laughs. “Chief Midoriya almost had a heart attack giving me that survey, you know. You should make it up to him.”

“... maybe,” he says, although the sudden dark look in his eyes tells her otherwise. She should apologize to the freckled Chief when things happen. “In any case, this is for you, if you’ll have it. It’s your very own Victoria. You should be grateful to have such a beautiful object.”

The cat is white and about half as big as her, with a squinty smile and a little bell on its collar. She won’t admit it, but she loves it immediately. She takes it from the Director. “Thank you, Director. I am filled with such gratitude.”

“Formal language, again?”

“I’m just teasing.”

He huffs. “You seem to be getting used to that, Secretary Uraraka. I don’t approve.”

She snickers. “Yeah? Well, approve this! ”

She playfully smacks the cat’s face right into his. She doesn’t know why she suddenly had the balls to do something like that, but the small surprised mmph he produces makes it all worth the risk. When he pushes the cat off of him to glare at her, she’s in another fit of giggles.

“I thought you had a good time. Is this how you say goodnight?” he asks in mild annoyance.

“I did! And, yes,” she says with a confident smile.

“Strange. That’s not what I know of ordinary people saying goodnight on ideal dates.”

Without warning, he steps closer to her, and closer, and closer. She should be backing up to keep a safe distance, far enough that he doesn’t hear her blood rushing or her heart beating or her mind racing into oblivion. She should, but she doesn’t--all she does is hold her breath.

Even when he meets her eyes.

Even when he leans in closer.

Even when her eyes are suddenly squeezing tight in anticipation of something she shouldn’t.

Whatever it is she was waiting for doesn’t come, however. Because what she feels in that cold, dark, anxious and excited void is something cold pressing into the very tip of her nose.

When she comes to, she’s staring cross-eyed right at his index finger.

Todoroki Shouto is poking her on the nose.

He gives a little satisfied smile and steps back. “That’s how they do it, right?”

She stammers, face impossibly red. “No? That’s not a thing anyone does in any planet! Where did you even learn that?!”

He chuckles lightly, the sound of it another shock to her senses. “I guess being ordinary is more challenging than I thought. Goodnight, Secretary Uraraka.”

Why is he so weird? Why is she feeling so bamboozled? Before she can make any sensible words out of her mouth, the Director is already behind the wheel and smugly driving off into the night.

God, all she can do is to run into her apartment, dive on the bed and hide her face over Her Very Own Victoria’s face to hide her blush. But then she remembers what she made this doll do (read: smack the Director in the face), and then she remembers that smooshing her face against it is exactly the wrong thing to do.

Great. How is she supposed to sleep now? Stupid Director!

#bnha fic #todoroki shouto/uraraka ochako #todochako #my writings

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emeraldwaves · 6 years ago

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Title: A Dragon’s Magic Chapter 14 Pairing: Kacchako Rating: M (This ch is NSFW) Word Count: 5,559 Summary: Uraraka Ochako has always believed in dragons, though she was constantly told they were long since extinct. Now an adult and professional mage, she’s ready to help her parents as a healer for their village. The last thing she expects is for her beliefs to become a reality, but when a dragon attacks her village, she learns there’s more to magic than she ever could’ve realized. Read on AO3 Thanks to @amaisenshi for reading ahead!! :D

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" Mirio's voice echoed through the barn, and Ochako blinked, groaning as she buried her face against Bakugou's chest. His long cloak was wrapped around her shoulders and she nuzzled her face into the furry lining.

"Oi..." Bakugou grumbled. Normally, he was awake in the morning, but after everything they did yesterday he seemed a little drained.

"We're doing a magical ritual today!" Mirio said, throwing his hands into the air. "We gotta get up and start being active."

"That sounds horrible," Ochako whined and clung to Bakugou.

"It's going to be amazing! After watching you two yesterday, I'm incredibly excited," he smirked, posing in front of the open barn door.

"Don't you think we should be well rested?" Ochako mumbled, peeking her eyes out from behind the cloak. She squinted looking at the tall blond.

"I already let you guys sleep in!" he said and jumped up. "Come and get some breakfast! We made plenty of eggs!"

"Eggs," Bakugou grumbled, wrinkling his nose as he pushed himself up, letting Ochako flop against the soft pile of hay. "Let's go Cheeks."

"Okay, okay," she said, yawning loudly as she pushed herself up and out of the hay. She grabbed her staff and reached forward taking Bakugou's hand as they made their way outside.

Tamaki was standing by the fence and he glanced at Mirio. "I told you not to wake them up."

"Tamaaa~" Mirio hummed, wrapping his arms around him. "We have a show tonight! We need to make sure everything goes right with them!" He nuzzled his cheek against Tamaki's and clung to him. It was bizarre, to see him so eager to please the dragon male.

"Sorry about him," Tamaki said softly. "Go eat."

"Yeah," Ochako yawned again. "It's okay, but I am starving." She blinked, and bowed quickly, not wanting to be rude. "A-Ah, sorry... thank you for making us food and letting us stay here!" she said.

Mirio smiled, sliding away from Tamaki. "Of course! To be honest, it's really nice to meet another dragon, even if he is grouchy as hell!" Mirio teased.

Bakugou let out a snort, folding his arms over his chest as he made his way towards the house.

"Katsuki doesn't know how to talk to people very well," Ochako said, watching his back as he went.

"But he knows how to talk to you," Mirio smiled. "The two of you are a very good team. We could sense that yesterday."

"Oi! Cheeks! Come eat this shit!" he yelled from the doorway.

"Still..." Ochako sighed. "I don't know why he's like this."

Mirio chuckled. "You better get going. We should head into the forest as soon as possible. The magical ritual will take a lot out of you. You'll probably want to rest once it's done."

Ochako nodded. "I know Katsuki is eager to get back to his home, but I want to make sure we're prepared to do so. I know they're going to have a lot of questions for us. And... as good as it is that we can help Katsuki get his magic back... there are still so many dragons struggling. We can’t just shove humans at them to bond with either..."

"Right," Mirio muttered, tapping his chin.

"Can you... explain in further details what's happening?" Tamaki asked softly.

"Well," Ochako sighed, air slipping from her lips. "Katsuki could probably explain better, but the flow of magic doesn't seem to be working properly. Dragons are having a hard time sharing their energy. It just seems to be disappearing."

"Mmm..." Tamaki muttered tapping his chin. "Someone must be draining a source. A human or other dragon draining from one dragon."

"I see..." Ochako whispered. "Is there anyway to check or test that?"

"No..." Tamaki whispered. "Though a dragon probably wouldn’t have issues with magic if they're sucking everyone else dry."

"So they could hide their dragon form completely?" she asked.

Tamaki nodded.

"Hmm..." Ocahko hummed. "I'll talk to Katsuki about it. Thank you both, for all your help." She bowed again, nodding to the two of them.

"It's not a problem," Tamaki muttered, blushing as he stared down at the goats in the pen.

"We've enjoyed getting to know you two," Mirio smiled, nudging his mate. "Right, Tamaki?"

"Mmm..." Tamaki nodded. "I don't mind you."

"I could see how Katsuki could be a lot for you," Uraraka giggled softly. "Anyway, we'll be right back."

She scurried into the house, met by Bakugou staring at the table with eggs on it. She snorted, laughing as she took a seat next to him. "You know... you won't be able to absorb them by just looking at them."

"Shut up. I hate eggs," he grumbled, shoving a bite into his mouth.

"Noted," she laughed and gently placed her hand over his. "Katsuki... since we're alone for a moment. I just... wanted to ask if you felt ready..."

"'Course I do," he said, swallowing the bite down. "I feel more ready than ever. I could've done it yesterday."

She smiled, pulling some eggs and bacon onto her plate. "Oh? You seemed pretty concerned yesterday."

"Whatever!" he snarled. "We're doing it today and I don't wanna wait any fuckin' longer.

"Good," she whispered. "I don't want to wait much longer either. Do you... think that's a sign it will work?"

"Hah!?" Bakugou growled, slamming his fork down. "Oi... Cheeks," he leaned in towards her. "Are you thinking it won't work?"

She blushed and shrugged. "It's... powerful magic," she whispered.

He pressed his forehead against hers and she let out a small peep, staring at his intense red eyes. She'd seen him look this serious a few times, but it was directed right at her and her heart trembled.

"You're my goddamn mate. I wouldn't choose anyone else. It's gonna work."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I know you're right." She couldn't help but smile. Bakugou's confidence was extremely contagious, and as nervous as she was to perform the ritual, she also was growing more and more convinced it would work. Bakugou didn't seem to have any doubt so why should she?

Swallowing the rest of her meal, she stood up. "Okay!" she nodded. "Let's do it! We gotta believe in ourselves!"

"I fuckin' believe," Bakugou snorted, standing up as he wrapped his hand around hers. "Let's get a move on."

He pulled her out of the house and she followed him back towards where Mirio and Tamaki stood.

"Wow!" Mirio blinked. "That was fast!"

"Katsuki was hungry and... I think we're both a little eager," Ochako admitted, rubbing her neck as she swung her and Bakugou's hands back and forth.

"Of course!" Mirio said. "Let's head to the clearing from yesterday, shall we?"

"Okay!" Ochako nodded, following after the older pair.

The woods shimmered with sunlight cutting through the trees and birds chirped around them. The day was peppy and full of energy and life, something Ochako greatly appreciated. It was about to be a new beginning for her and Bakugou, and she was fully ready to accept that. After all they had been through, and all they planned to do, Ochako couldn't help but have a positive feeling.

She turned her gaze towards him, wondering what she would do when they had to say their vows. She swallowed, this ritual was practically like getting married... she wished she had thought of that before. She would've spent time to write up her vows... though knowing Bakugou he was probably just gonna yell his in her face.

Oddly endearing. She was looking forward to it.

"I set stuff up last night for both of you," Mirio smiled, making his way through to the clearing. "Tamaki and I didn't use a magic circle, but I've read that it works better if you do," he said. "I can give you the book on how to do this if you want, since you'll be returning to other dragons."

"That would be amazing!" Ochako smiled, stepping into the clearing as she stared at the large markings on the ground. The circle took up the majority of the dirt area. There were long and triangular patterns on the inside and a smaller circle in the middle, where Ochako assumed they were meant to stand.

"Mhm," Mirio chuckled. "The way I see it, you guys will need it way more than we will."

Ochako turned towards Bakugou, noting how intense his red eyes were. His gaze was fixated on the circle, the golden scales on his cheek shimmering in the sunlight. He really was beautiful. She squeezed his hand, feeling emotional just looking upon him.

"We should get started," Mirio nodded, gesturing towards the circle.

"I agree," Ochako nodded. "Are you ready Katsuki?"

"Don't make me pick you up and carry you in there," he grunted, turning away from her, his cheeks bright red.

In her other hand, she clutched her staff, wondering how it would feel to do magic without it. It had always been her connection to her grandmother and her power, and the thought of no longer needing it terrified her. Though she also knew she could continue using it if she so pleased.

The two made their way into the circle, carefully avoiding stepping on any of Mirio's markings. Ochako turned towards him, holding her staff in one hand and his hand in her other. She nodded once, determination pulsing in her veins.

They could do this. They could be one together, sharing magic.

Bakugou sucked in a long breath of air, huffing out as he stared at her. He was ready, she could tell.

"Alright," Mirio said, taking in a large breath of air himself as he stretched up. "Once you two get a magic flow between you, Uraraka, you say your vow first and then Bakugou you say yours. You'll both probably feel a little lightheaded afterwards, but after a few moments you'll be able to use magic freely."

"Still you should probably take it easy," Tamaki said. "Your bodies will need time to adjust."

Ochako nodded, squeezing Bakugou's hand.

"Alright, alright... let's just fucking do this!" he grumbled, and let his eyes close.

"We have to start with magical transfer," Ochako said. "If you feel weird, please tell me and we'll stop okay?"

"Same goes for you, Cheeks!" he grunted, squeezing her hand.

"Right," she whispered.

Taking a step towards him, she placed her magical staff over his chest. She took a deep breath, channeling her magic into his body. Her hand and staff glowed pink, the glistening particles making their way into Bakugou's chest.

She sighed, slowly feeling the energy draining from her body. Her hand began to vibrating, the feeling of Bakugou's magic rushing into her. His hand trembled against her, shining a golden color.

Beneath them, the circle began to light up, her cloak flapping gently against her body, moving from the energy pulling from the air. The circle was a mix of pink and golden, glistening orange throughout as their magic filled the air, pulsing between them.

It strange, feeling her magic slowly slip from her fingertips. It was a sensation she was used to, and yet, knowing she was giving it to Bakugou to share forever made her feel oddly emotional. Tears glistened in her eyes as she fought against them. This was their moment; she wanted to be strong.

And she knew she needed to speak, her body growing weaker.

"Bakugou Katsuki," she breathed, allowing her eyes to open, so she could get a good look at him. "I... never expected dragons to be real. I heard stories my whole entire life, but I never thought one would come literally crashing down into my village. I never thought I would say this but... I'm so happy you did."

She hadn't thought of what to say ahead of time, but now, everything felt right, the emotions pouring out of her. "I really feel so much stronger because of you. I've experienced so many new things and met so many wonderful people. I always thought my life would be small, but my experiences lately have been nothing but fantastically amazing and it's all thanks to you. I love you, and there's no one else I would rather spend the rest of my life with. There's no one else I'd rather be connected to. I'd do anything to help you and your people. I'd give you all my magic and soul."

There was a sharp pang in her chest and she sucked in a long gasp of air, the magic pulsing into her body.

She stared at Bakugou's wide red eyes. Maybe she said too much, it was supposed to be a short vow right?

She wished she knew why he was taking so long to talk. Her chest grew tighter, her hand trembling against his.

"Katsuki," she whispered.

"I know!" he growled, squeezing even harder at her hand. Bakugou was never very forthcoming with his feelings and having to do this in front of Mirio and Tamaki probably also stressed him out quite terribly.

She knew this sort of thing was difficult for him, but she needed him to be honest. If he wasn’t… this could all go horribly wrong. Already her chest hurt, magic rushing out of her body.

"Uraraka Ochako," he said and slammed his eyes shut, his teeth pressing against his lips.

"You can do it," she whispered.

"I fuckin' know that... they're just... words." He sighed and repeated her name. "Uraraka Ochako. Fuckin' humans piss me off. So damn much. They're ignorant and fuckin' stupid. But..." he trailed off for a moment, looking down at her round, brown eyes, "you're fucking strong. You're talented and you work so damn hard. You're persistent as hell and I feel... pretty damn lucky to know you. If I had crashed into any other village, I probably would've burned it down or been fucking killed. But you... saved me," he grunted, as though the words were painful to get out. "I'd give you all my magic. You and only you. No other human would ever be as good as you. I'd... I'd take on my dragon form forever if it meant I could keep your tiny human body safe!" he yelled. "I... I love you..."

As he spoke the words, the pain in Ochako's chest lightened, a flash of gold and pink light erupting from both of their chests. In between them, the colorful lights swirled together, melding into a golden orange, specks of pink flashing through the orbs. She wanted to reach out and touch it, desperate to feel the warmth of their magic against her fingertips. But instead, she kept her eyes fixated, watching as the energy slowly re-entered their bodies.

Ochako felt a rush of power surge through her, her blood rushing through her veins, feeling warm against her. She gasped as she fell into Bakugou, emotions running rampant. She felt the warmth of love, the tense, red frustration and anger, the anxiety of him potentially losing to his dragon form.

His arms wrapped around her, his entire body shaking. "K-Katsuki," she whispered, looking up at him as the scales on his cheeks, arms and neck began to disappear, his ears turning human. She'd never seen him look so normal.

He was panting, his eyes twitching, and she wondered if he was feeling everything she was; the slightly twinge of pain, the overwhelming amount of magical energy surging through her core.

Breathing out, she reached her hand up to gently touch his smooth cheek. "Wow..." she breathed. Her eyes darted about, noticing the light in the circle slowly fade.

"We... we did it..." she panted, her lips curling into a large smile, her eyes widening. "We did it! I-I think!?"

She let her staff fall to the ground and she pressed her hands together, sucking in a long breath of air. Reaching behind her, she kicked one foot up and then the other, tapping her feet with her hands.

Within a moment, her hands glowed pink and she began to hover above the ground! She was doing magic without her staff! "I'm floating! I did it on my own!" she gasped and grabbed his hands before lowering herself back down. Magic flowed easily... without her having to even think about it.

She could've cast any spell she wanted and it would work without touching the item.

She turned to Bakugou, remembering his scales were now completely hidden. "Are you okay?! Your scales are gone!"

Bakugou nodded, breathing heavily. "I... I don't need to hold it..." he muttered. "I don't need to hold back that damn dragon beast..."

"Really?" she asked, cupping his cheeks. Her thumbs gently brushed over his smooth skin. She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. "I-I'm so happy!"

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. "Me too... dumbass," he growled.

She giggled, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Are you okay?!" Mirio called out, standing at the edge of the circle.

"Yeah!" Ochako called back, still keeping her arms wrapped around Bakugou. "I just.. uhm..." She panted heavily. "It... was a lot... of magic we used. I don't feel drained just... shaky?"

"That's normal," Mirio nodded, stepping into the circle, slowly approaching the two. "Your body isn't used to harboring this much magic. You'll probably feel exhausted while you adjust. How about you, Bakugou?"

"Feels good," he grunted. "I'm glad to not fight against my stupid dragon form."

"So you were fighting against it?" Ochako breathed.

"No..." he grunted.

"But you just said-"

"Look, it's fuckin' fine now!" he growled.

"It might take you both a moment to adjust to each others emotions and magic. The longer your bond lasts and deeper it grows, the more in tune with each other you'll become," Tamaki muttered.

"Exactly! Tamaki and I are super close because of it!" Mirio said, wrapping his arm around Tamaki's neck.

Ochako giggled, but fell against Bakugou again, panting heavily. "This... really does feel like a lot of magic." Her entire body felt hot, humming with an amount of magical energy she'd never felt. "No wonder your shows are so easy to perform..." she breathed.

"It does make things a lot easier," Mirio chuckled.

"Oi... Cheeks. You okay?" he muttered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her from falling.

"Mhm... I think... I just need to lay down while my body adjusts," she whispered, embarrassed she was the only one affected by this.

"Don't worry," Mirio said, as if he had read her mind. "I had to lay down for a day or so... just trying to get used to how much magic I had. It's overwhelming for a human body! Dragons are more used to this flow of energy."

"Y-Yeah..." Ochako said. "It feels like it wants to burst out of me."

"Well don't worry," Mirio laughed loudly. "It won't... and the two of you are welcome to stay in the barn again if you want."

"We could go back to the inn. I-I don't want to impose-"

"I don't think you should be walking so far," Mirio said, shaking his head. "We'll help you back to the barn and you two can rest up there until you're ready to return to the island. Besides, Bakugou shouldn't transform in the city, and he shouldn't be using that much magic right away.

Ochako nodded. Heading back to relax didn't sound like a bad idea, snuggling up to Bakugou in the hay... she loved the idea of being close to him while their bodies settled into their magic.

"Alright," she said, leaning against Bakugou. "Let's head back."

"Mmm..." she hummed and nuzzled her face against Bakugou's chest. Her entire body still hummed with the overwhelming power housed inside of her. Laying in the hay, she felt exhausted and excited all at the same time.

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Your magic is really warm," she said softly.

"Well it's your magic too," he snorted, glancing away from her, though he kept his arm locked around her shoulder tight.

"Yeah but... now it's ours," she giggled tiredly. "And I love you."

Her brown eyes looked at him, staring at his face, her gaze fixated on his cheek.

"What the hell is that face?"

"Mm... it's weird seeing you without the scales," she said, reaching up to gently brush her fingers over his cheek.

"Oi..." he grumbled, "you want them back? See... Dragon fetish." He wrapped his finger around hers and pulled her pointer finger to his lips, kissing it.

"I-It's not that!" she gasped. "I-I just meant… it's weird seeing your face without them. I've only known you to have them..."

"Mmm..." he said, and closed his eyes, taking a few breaths as golden scales began to glisten across his skin. "Better?"

"Katsuki..." she muttered. "Mirio told us we should wait before we do anything drastic like that..."

"Oi..." he frowned. "How the fuck is this drastic? I just put scales on my fuckin' cheeks."

"Alright, alright," she giggled, reaching forward to brush her hand over his face, her fingers grazing the scales. "I did really miss them... but nothing else!"

"Hah?"

"No more magic. At least not until we sleep," she mumbled, scooting her body close to his. A yawn slipped from her lips. "It's weird to be so tired after being given so much magic."

"You gonna sleep, Cheeks?" he asked, his red eyes trailing over her body. She could feel his gaze looking her up and down. Her heart fluttered, her stomach dropping and her cheeks grew red.

Was this because they were connected now? She hadn't been feeling anything remotely like that... but then again they were snuggling close and they did participate in such an intimate ritual...

She stroked her fingers down his arm. "I don't... have to sleep," she whispered, turning her brown eyes up to look at him. "At least... not yet."

His lips pulled into a smirk as he rolled on top of her, her body sinking down into the hay. "Good," he hummed.

The yellow straw tickled her back, making her giggle as she stroked her hand over his shoulder. "I had my suspicions you were... feeling this way."

His brow furrowed and he glanced down at her, his hands sinking into the hay. "This bond shit is gonna be a pain in my ass," he grumbled.

"I bet you're gonna love it," she teased. "You'll know when I'm excited or sad, and I'll get to feel angry all the time."

"Oi! I feel other things besides anger," he snapped and she felt her heart throb in her chest.

"Sure," she smirked, gently placing her fist over her heart. "I-I know I'm teasing, but... I kind of like this buzz I'm feeling in my chest."

His hand rose to hers, wrapping his fingers around her fist as he leaned down to press their lips together. "Yeah..." he grumbled, mostly to himself. "Me too... I-I mean I don't hate or anything..."

She sighed, kissing him again. "I'm glad."

He pressed her down, their bodies sinking together. Ochako brought her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face closer to hers. More than anything she wanted to be close to him, connected in all senses of the word. They shared a bond now, and she wanted to deepen it physically, as embarrassing as that was.

Against his lips, she let out a sigh, her body rolling towards his, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hips jerked up ever so slightly, feeling more excited than she originally thought she would be.

"Katsuki..." she breathed, her breath tickling against his lips. "I want you."

"I can fuckin' tell," he grumbled, nipping at her lower lip, tugging it into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes, her fingers tracing circles around his scales. "Is that all you have to say about this? I'm certain you were the one who started this anyway."

Her tone was playful, and though she was teasing him, a smile was pulled across her lips. She loved him, so much more than she could ever express.

"I want you too, idiot," he muttered, pressing his lips against hers.

She found she could've kissed him forever, lost in the taste of his lips against her own. Her chest swelled, her body rocking up to his, brushing her hips against his own.

His cheek, though covered in scales, was warm against her hand and Ochako wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in him completely. "Mate me, Katsuki," she whispered, pecking his lips.

With a growl, he kissed down her jaw. "It's dangerous to say shit like that, Cheeks," he said, nipping at her skin.

"Maybe I said it that way on purpose," she teased, brushing her hand through his hair.

His lips were hot, caressing her skin gently, pulling her flesh into his mouth. His tongue lapped over her neck.. "Mine," he growled, tugging harder and the edges of his teeth scraped her wet skin.

"Ngh..." she moaned, letting her head fall to the side. She was thankful Mirio and Tamaki had left them to perform their show; no was around to hear the sinful noises slipping from her lips. "Yours..." she sighed, her chest heaving.

"Clothes..." he grumbled, slipping his fingers under her cloak as he pushed it over her head, tossing it to the side.

The cool air made her nipples harden, her chest a weird mix of hot from her desires and cold from the air surrounding them. She let out a sigh, her fingers pressing into his bare shoulder. "Warm me up..." she whispered, leaning forward to kiss at his ear.

"Fuckin' gladly," he purred, moving down to wrap his lips around one of her nipples.

"A-Ah! Katsuki..." she hummed, her body immediately jolting with pleasure. His lips were wet and hot, his tongue swirling around her cold, hard bud. It made her back arch and hands slide down to his waist, pulling his hips closer. She wanted to feel the friction between them, desperate for some relief down by her lower half.

He switched to the other side, her legs wrapping around his hips when the ends of his teeth lightly grazed her nipple. "Ngh!" she moaned, leaning towards him. Her hands flew into his hair, pressing him closer to her chest. "Ah... hah... amazing..."

In the pit of her stomach, she felt her magical energy swirl around inside of her. With each touch against her skin, his fingers felt electrifying, shooting waves of pleasure and energy straight up her spine.

"Hah... ngh... it's... so intense..." she breathed while he lapped at her nipple, rapidly flicking his tongue back and forth.

She could feel her wetness pooling against her undergarments, desperate for him to connect to her.

"Yeah," he grunted, his hips humping towards her. He pulled away from her chest, leaning up to press their lips together. "You're my mate and you're fucking hot."

"P-Please..." she moaned. "Lower..."

"So much fucking magic your tiny body held..." he whispered, his hands slowly drifting down her stomach. His fingers were barely touching her body and she jerked upwards, desperate for his touch. When his fingers hit her skin, connecting them, she felt like a magnet, unable to move away from the gravitational pull of his fingers on her body.

"You had so much too," he muttered. His fingers hooked around her leggings, pulling them down with a smirk. She shivered, her folds dripping wet. "Someone is excited." He chuckled, pulling away from her as he lowered himself between her legs. He hooked his hands under her thighs, spreading them apart.

"Huh?" she gasped, leaning forward. "Katsuki? What are you- NGH!" She lurched forward, not expecting his tongue to flick between her legs, wrapping around her clit.

"Tastin' you..." he muttered, humming against her folds. Her body trembled with the vibrations, her eyes rolling as her back arched off the hay.

"Ah! M-More...!" she begged, unashamed when her hips thrust against his face.

She partially expected Bakugou to be sloppy, but shockingly he took his time. He alternated between his tongue and his thumb on her clit, sending jolts of pleasure up her spine, her own energy leaking from her fingertips.

Spreading her legs more, he leaned down, lapping up the juices leaking from her, he pressed his tongue inside, his wet muscle hitting the sensitive spots inside of her core. "K-Katuski..." she begged, humping against his face. "I-I'm going to cum..." she moaned, louder than she meant to, the sound echoing in the barn.

Before he had made her feel warm, but now her body felt positively ablaze with energy.

The grip on her thighs trembled the longer he held her in place, lapping at her faster. It was enough to push her over the edge, her body clenching as she came fast, her orgasm rushing out of her and onto Bakugou's tongue. "Oh gosh..." she sighed, her voice shaking.

He licked at the excess wetness, pulling back as he quickly shoved down his pants, his cock standing tall.

"Hah... Katsuki... I-I need..." she begged, her hips still twitching from the intensity of her orgasm.

"Don't worry, I can't take it anymore, Ochako," he growled, positioning himself at her entrance.

The moment his tip pushed against her hole, she let out a long sigh, as if the missing piece was finally filling her. "Hah... a-amazing..." she moaned, pulling his cheeks down to bring their lips together.

Kissing him, she wrapped her arms around his neck while he pushed inside of her, filling her completely.

She moaned, letting her eyes flutter shut. The energy pulsing through her veins was almost too much and she took a deep breath to not cum again right away. Their stream of magical energy flowed between them, entering her body and flowing through her bloodstream while it moved back to him, filling him just as much.

They were connected magically and physically, and the emotions were overwhelming. Ochako tried her best to hold back her tears, but a few slipped down her cheeks. Bakugou buried his nose into the crook of her neck. "My perfect fuckin' girl..." he breathed, kissing her neck. "There’s no reason to cry, idiot."

"My perfect dragon," she sniffled, letting her fingers touch his cheek once more. "I-I can’t help it… everything feels so amazing."

"Good," he whispered, pushing into her faster.

There was a part of her deep down that kept expecting to wake up from this incredible dream, but as he began to move, pumping in and out of her, she knew it was real. There was so much magic sparkling between them, it was like she could see their golden and pink auras mingling in the air around them.

"Hah...ngh..." she panted, clinging to him while he shoved his hips into her. He was moving fast, his thrusts frantic. He pushed his hips towards her, her breasts bouncing against his chest with the movement.

"Ochako..." he muttered, pressing his lips against hers as they sank together, the echoes of their skin slapping together loud in the large barn.

"Hah... K-Katsuki... claim me."

He growled against her lips, nipping down on the flesh. He tugged her lip into his mouth, panting heavily. She loved the look of pure desperation on his face; his cheeks were ever so slightly painted red, not covering the scales, and his brow twitched while he moved faster.

"C-Close..." he grunted, moving his hands to her hips to angle her up and push in deep.

"A-Ah.. S-So much!" she gasped, moving her hips with him. She wanted to finish again and she felt the tell-tale clench of her folds, her stomach tightening. "C-Cumming!" she whimpered.

"F-Fuck... Ochako..." he moaned, his slaps quick and shallow as he burst over the edge, his cum shooting into her.

"Ugnh!" she whined, her back moving off of the hay only to slam back down, her orgasm trembling throughout her body.

Bakugou's hip movements slowed while he panted against her neck, kissing up to her lips. "I love you so damn much. My perfect goddamn mate..."

She gently stroked her hands his hair. "You're perfect," she whispered. "Did you... feel how much energy was flowing between us?" Silently she couldn't help but think they could be even more powerful depending on how hard they worked at honing their magical skills and how much they deepened their bond.

"Yeah..." he muttered and pulled himself back, snuggling down next to her. He didn't even bother with their clothes, only pulled his cloak from the ground to cover them both. "It was fuckin' great."

"It was," she sighed. "I like being connected to you."

"It's alright," he said, eliciting a laugh from her.

"Thanks," she scoffed, gently bopping him on the head. He didn't fight back though, his eyes slowly drifting shut while her own were starting to do the same.

"We have to take this ritual back to the dragons... maybe this could help," she mumbled, feeling hopeful for their future.

"Maybe..." he muttered. "But at least we can take our goddamn time figuring this shit out," he snorted. "Tomorrow we can finally go home."

"Mhm," she nodded. "Home..." she said softly, finally liking the idea of knowing her home was with Bakugou, wherever they chose to go together.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #Boku no hero academia #fantasy au #dragon au #A dragon's magic

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eryiss · 5 years ago

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Fraxus Week Day 1: Freed The Dark & The Thunder God

Summary: The idea of performing a Unison Raid had previously felt unattainable for Freed and Laxus. But after hearing stories of their guildmates managing to perform the spell, the two powerful men make it their goal to do the same.

This is my first admission for Fraxus Week event for twenty-nineteen hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. As always, I’m aiming to make something for each of the prompts. I hope you all enjoy and it gives you the fraxus content we all need.

You can read it on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. I hope you all enjoy it!

Day 1: The Beasts of Fairy Tail

"You ready?"

At Laxus' question, Freed gave a curt nod. The two men were stood in the large expanse of land that made up Fairy Tail's training grounds. It was the middle of the afternoon, meaning most of their other guildmates had retired for the day and were enjoying the booze and food that was served in the nearby guildhall. Being alone suited their needs, as what they were planning to do could easily go incredibly wrong.

After taking a moment to collect the energy coursing through his veins, Freed's eye began to glow and pulsate with a haze of darkness and power. He expelled it immediately, feeling the burning sensation that ran through him leave as the spells he cast came to fruition.

Throughout the training ground, multiple glyphs began to appear in runic lettering. They glowed and rotated in place, floating high above the ground. Freed felt a small taxing sensation coming from his eye, a silent reminder that he needed to maintain his power to keep the glyphs in place, but he made an effort to ignore it so that he could start the next part of the spell. Following his small hand gestures, the glyphs began to slowly move across the sky, converging into a singular circle in the centre of the paved area.

His magic now in place, Freed looked to the side to see his husband waiting. Lighting danced across his exposed forearms and a small smirk was visible on his face, and Freed couldn't help but match the expression. It was rare for him to see his husband in such an exhilarated state; as it normally only happened during a fight where Freed's priority was obviously elsewhere.

"Anytime you're ready," Freed said, allowing Laxus to step forward. "You still know what you're doing, right?"

"Hell yeah," Laxus grinned, cracking his knuckles.

The idea had been Laxus', initially. Unison Raids were supposedly a rare occurrence that could only happen if the two mages were both powerful and had a deep, pure connection. The near impossibility of the occurrence meant that neither Freed nor Laxus had considered it something they should try. But after hearing that their guildmates had managed to do it on multiple occasions, Laxus had proposed that they attempt to create their own version of the spell. This had happened over a week ago, and this was the first time they were actually trying to do something rather than just talking about how their own raid would work.

Taking another step forward, Laxus raised both of his hands. He clapped them together, the lightning still dancing across him as his coat bellowed in the wind created by his energy. The dragon-slayer magic rushed forward, bursting out from between his hands in a haphazard but powerful beam of pure magic energy.

Watching the lightning barrel towards the floating glyphs, both men held their breaths.

Due to their dominant magics not being overly compatible, they had been forced to be creative about how they should combine their powers. Freed had managed to write an enchantment that would allow his darkness magic to combine with Laxus' lightning, and had infused this enchantment on the floating glyphs. This was untested until now.

As Laxus' lightning slammed into the closest glyph, both men watched as the letter glowed. A smaller stream of lightning flowed from this glyph, arching towards the two adjacent enchantments, the effect of Freed's dark magic obvious with the pulsating black aura that clearly surrounded the lightning. Freed wore a small grin as he watched how his magic had fused with his husband's, glad that both their magic was compatible as well as his work being proven correct.

A small chain reaction occurred. Once the next glyph was hit by the tainted lightning, it produced a new stream of magic. This occurred until all the glyphs had been hit and a full circle of lightning had occurred; the lightning now being jet black in colour.

Stepping beside his husband, who was still channelling magic into the spell to make the stream of tainted lightning continue, Freed allowed his eye to glow with power again. Simultaneously, the glyphs glowed with a bright purple light and they begun to spin at a significantly faster speed than before. So far, everything was going as intended.

"You can stop now," Freed glanced towards Laxus, who lowered his hands and stopped casting his own spell.

"Everything going well?" The blonde asked, looking up at the magical occurrence that he and Freed's magic had created. He smirked a little, already sensing the high levels of power that their combined magic resulted in.

"I think so," Freed nodded, also looking up.

Each glyph suddenly erupted in power, a beam of erratic lightning, rivalling the ferocity of Laxus' own magic, shooting inwards and merging in the centre of the magical circle. The excess wind created by the merging of all beams of tainted lighting started to grow, ruffling both men's clothes as well as the nearby trees and grass. Freed narrowed his eyes, focusing on maintaining the spells he created.

In the centre of the floating glyphs, a ball of darkness and lightning began to grow larger and larger. Freed's smirk widened, the spell working as intended and allowing him to step back again, the rest of the spell meant to happen by itself.

Both men watched as the pulsating sphere of energy grew larger and larger, eventually filling the space between the glyphs. As the spell continued to grow, it engulfed the glyphs in the dark lightning that their combined magics had made. With every growing inch of magic, the power of their spell became more apparent as the wind grew more ferocious and bellowing, so much so that the training dummies were moving and both men were forced to steady themselves as to not be affected by how strong it was.

With gritted teeth, Freed narrowed his eyes and looked up. The glyphs were soon to be completely developed and, if all went as planned, this would start the offensive part of the spell. The glyphs were keeping the lightning contained so, when destroyed, all the magic should be released.

"It's nearly ready," Freed warned, and Laxus stood behind him. The blonde placed a hand on Freed's shoulder in support as they looked up to their spell.

As the final, closest glyph became shrouded by the flickering black lightning, both men held their breath. The magic stayed in place for a few seconds, before bursting out. Both men watched with cautious excitement as the sphere of energy grew and expanded, floating in place for a short moment until it exploded with a foreboding bang that filled the landscape.

The result was… underwhelming.

Instead of a powerful attack that combined the most effective aspects of both mens magic, the magical energy simply fizzled out. It mainly died out, the only remnants of their powerful magic being a small pulse that overtook them. The only sensation caused was a light fizzling that went through their bones. Neither an effective attack, nor was it a worthwhile use of their energy. Overall, the experiment had been a failure.

"Shit," Freed muttered harshly, stepping forward to where their attempted Raid had occurred. There was nothing to show for their spell at all.

He had intended for the spell to turn into a powerful beam that would fly upwards, similar to a Dragon-Slayer's roar but a combination of both of their magics. The endgame goal would be for them to be comfortable enough with their Unison Raid that it could be aimed at any enemy they came across. So, to see the spell disperse with a disappointing pulse instead of exploding into a powerful barrage of magic was disheartening to say the least.

Laxus stepped behind his husband, wrapping his arms around the man's waist and pressing his lips onto the back of his neck. It had been obvious that Freed enjoyed the challenge of finding a way to combine their magics – it had become his passion project – and to see the look of disappointment on Freed's face made Laxus feel like shit.

"We'll get there," He promised, holding his husband close. "Give it time."

"I know," Freed said, relaxing into the arms surrounding him. "It just seemed to be going well up until the final part. I suppose I was just getting excited."

"Nothin' wrong with that," Laxus mumbled into his husband's neck. "And the fact it nearly worked first time is good. Just means with a little tinkering it'll be good," He buried his nose into Freed's neck, nuzzling him gently. "And if it doesn't work next time, I'll make it my goal to make you feel better. By any means necessary."

Freed laughed a little, turning around in Laxus' arms so they were facing each other. "That sounds like an acceptable agreement."

"Thought you'd say that," Laxus chuckled. "And, y'know we're gonna get it right eventually. And when we do, we'll be fucking unstoppable."

"As if weren't already," Freed smirked.

Grinning at each other, they stayed in their embrace. Freed placed his head in the nook of Laxus' neck as he allowed himself to be calmed by his husband's words. He was right, of course. This had been their first attempt at something that, a year previous, would have been nothing but an unrealistic dream. They would get there, eventually.

And if this kind of attention came with each failure, he was happy with that.

-~~~-

After their first attempt, months passed. They hadn't given up trying to perform the Unison Raid; doing so would be going against the very ideals that Fairy Tail holds dear. Adjustments had been made, experiments had taken place, and more failures had occurred; Laxus made good on his promise to comfort Freed after each, even though he wasn't taking the failed attempts personally. Both were still determined to make the spell work, even if they had to face a hundred other failures.

But, as was common with Fairy Tail, they couldn't focus on one thing for too long.

Darks guilds rose and were taken care of; the yearly Grand Magic Games occurred, and the entire guild were called to the capital to either participate or spectate; and the S-Class trials were fast approaching and both men agreed Freed should focus on making himself as powerful as possible so he could finally get the title Laxus claimed 'practically belonged' to the rune mage.

Without either man noticing, the dream of performing a Unison Raid became a side project. They would work on it from time to time and were slowly getting closer to bringing Freed's plans to fruition, but it was by no means their top priority.

Certainly not when they found themselves under attack.

It was a dark guild, that was all Freed cared to remember about them. They were all basically the same – wanted either world domination or destruction, probably hadn't considered what would happen if they actually won and thought that attacking Fairy Tail of all places was a good idea – and instead focused on the task at hand. Protecting the guildhall from the mage that was attacking it while the majority of the guild went to end their enemies before they could cause any real damage.

Only a few members remained at the guild. The Raijinshuu, Laxus, Laki, Max and Kinana. The opposing guild had only brought one mage, which would have been more than manageable if it weren't for his magic. Cloning. Mass cloning.

Admittedly, the defenders of the guildhall had been cocky when they first saw the man approaching. That quickly changed when the mans form seemed to flicker, and suddenly multiply. It happened fast, worryingly so, and soon the clones of the man were outnumbering the remaining members of the guild. They each had weapons, some basic armour, and bared the disturbing feature of having their eyes stitched shut by a skin coloured string. What the clones lacked in magic, they made up for in numbers and a lack of care for their safety.

Worse still, they weren't stopped by Freed's runes. He surmised this to be because they weren't technically people – or maybe even living – meaning they weren't covered by his rules. Until he could discover exactly what they were, he couldn't amend his runes, meaning he would have to simply fight them off.

But still, he wasn't too worried. Assembled were some of Fairy Tail's best and strongest.

They managed to defend the guild easily at the start of the attack. While there were many of the clones populating the streets, it seemed they were pretty easy to defeat. After being hit by a certain amount of attacks – magic or otherwise – they would simply disappear in a slightly glitching manner. As many of the mages still at the guild had magic that could affect multiple targets at once, it seemed easy to stop from being overwhelmed.

"Laxus," A soft but panicked voice said over the sound of fighting. He looked back to see Kinana standing at the doors. "Oh god, they're here too? These… things, are coming for the back door as well."

"Fuck," Laxus cussed, he should have thought about that. "How many?"

"I'm not sure. More than out here, at least fifty, I think. They were all in a crowd, I couldn't tell for sure."

Laxus' jaw clenched as he heard this. Of course they wouldn't just attack the most obvious point of entrance to the guild, he should have made sure that all the exits were covered. Still, the fact Kinana wasn't saying anything about them actually getting inside meant that they were likely still struggling against the protections. He could fix this if he thought fast.

"Front and back entrances are probably gonna be their main targets," Laxus demanded. "Me and Freed'll stay here. Bix, Ever, go to the back. Max, take the south side entrance. Laki, take the west. Kinana, see if there's anyone still in the guild who're willing to help, send them to wherever you think the weakest point is."

After getting affirmations from the collected mages, all of whom quickly moved to their new positions, Laxus looked back to the mage spawning the clones. He narrowed his eyes, pissed at the fact he had been outsmarted, and let lightning crackle across him. Beside him, Freed was still grasping his sword that glowed and hummed after the spells he had casted, wearing a sneer as he looked towards their opponent who was standing across the other side of the fountain.

This was the quiet before the storm.

The two men could do nothing as the mage spawned more clones of himself. They filled the courtyard, and it was obvious that there was more than there had been before; Freed found himself wondering if the dark-mage's plan had been to split their forced and overwhelm them. If true, the mage was clearly underestimating the strength of him and his husband.

Not content with sitting and watching their opponent take an advantage, Freed and Laxus attacked. The courtyard was filled with pain spells and lightning within a moment, the newly formed clones fading out when hit. But not fast enough, as their numbers still grew.

It didn't take long before the courtyard was practically filled with the eyeless clones of the dark-mage, an overwhelming sight for the two husbands. Laxus resorted to using his dragon slayer magic in an attempt to thin out the numbers, but they were replaced almost immediately. Freed also started to use the darkness spells that, before his most recent training, were limited to his demon form. Just with Laxus' dragon-slayer magic, he managed to thin out their numbers for them to be replaced within an instant; the magical energy their opponent had was incredibly impressive, as well as aggravating.

Worse still, the original mage was lost in the crowd of clones, meaning they couldn't put their focus on the source of the issue. They both attempted to use their most wide-reaching attacks – Laxus sweeping the masses with his roar, and Freed using his flare bomb – but still the original mage couldn't be found.

"Crap," Laxus muttered, finding himself backed up against the locked doors of the guildhall. "This is fucking stupid."

"I know," Freed nodded, still brandishing his sword, with his free hand dripping with inky magic. "The rune kings were called nearly an hour ago; I know they're inadequate, but they should be here by now at least."

"We're gonna need to wipe them out all at once," Laxus concluded, looking over the masses as they grew larger and larger. The courtyard was full now. "You got any ideas?"

"Nothing certain. Do the most destructive spells we have at the same time, put all our magic in the spell to make them as powerful as possible, then just hope we can find the original and put our focus on stopping him."

Laxus nodded. The two men were standing back to back and took a moment to collect themselves, allowing their magical energy to flow throughout them. As they often did when fighting together when they found themselves overwhelmed, they let their hands connect and their fingers intertwine. They squeezed simultaneously, a silent promise that they would get through this together, and that there was nothing that could stop the two of them.

And as they did this, something happened.

A spark. It felt as though their insides burned, but it was empowering. Like the magic that they had been gathering was connecting, swirling into one combined power that the two shared. The sensation was new, raw and instinctive. Both men glanced at each other, knowing exactly what was happening.

They were about to perform a Unison Raid.

Magic flew out of them in a powerful burst, the excess wind knocking back the nearby clones and leaving a large area for only the two men. Above them, streams of spiralling magical beams shot into the air. Lightning and darkness dancing around one another in a double-helix of pure power, the burning sensation still coursing around their bodies burning inside of them. It was empowering, stronger than either man had ever felt, and they could both feel the other's magic in their veins as the spell began.

In the sky, the two spirals of magic slammed against each other and exploded in a firework of overwhelming magical energy, seemingly silencing the city. The two men looked up to see what their magic had created, their eyes wide at the result.

It was a magical construct. A dragon created entirely of black lightning.

The magical creature flew down immediately, rushing through the streets of Magnolia and towards the army of clones. Instead of obviously attacking, it few through the hoards of replicas as if they weren't there, seemingly doing the same to the clones attacking the other entrances to the guild. Once the dragon had passed through a clone, Freed saw that it had left a paralysis rune on each of them, rendering them all useless.

That rune on its own was powerful. The fact hundreds of them were in effect without Freed feeling any tax on his magic whatsoever was astounding.

Not finished, the dragon flew above the guildhall. It opened it's mouth and a barrage of dark lightning flew out, similar to Laxus' own roar attack though tainted with darkness. It was more chaotic and relentless that Laxus' actual attack, coming down form the sky and slamming against the ground surrounding the guildhall. Both men raised their arms to protect themselves when the onslaught got close to them, but each spark that hit them replenished their magic slightly rather than hurting them.

Before them, each of the paralysed clones were ripped apart as if they were nothing. The courtyard was emptied almost instantly, other than the singular real man that stood across from them, who now panted and was looking ragged.

Even now, the spell hadn't been completed.

After roaring the lightning attack throughout the border of the guild, it burst into the two beams of magic that had created it. They spiralled down at great speed, the beam of darkness flying towards Laxus while the beam of lighting went towards Freed. Both men expected an impact but felt nothing but an empowering burning across their skin. They were enveloped in light as they both felt a slight mutation cover them. Unfamiliar, but welcomed.

When the light died down, they could see the final effect that had occurred because of their spell. Freed's skin had grown scales, yellow and glinting in the sunlight. He resembled how his husband had looked whenever he had entered his dragon-force form.

Looking towards Laxus, Freed saw that his body had also changed as a result of the spell. His skin had gained dark, scale-like armour and black feathers; as if he was partially transformed into Freed's original demon form. Looking at each other, they both shared a grin. They both felt more powerful and connected to each other than they had before, as if their magic was fully combined.

Freed felt his sword grow an aura of darkness that would power up all his darkness spells significantly, and Laxus could feel lighting covering every inch of his skin. The power between the two men was immense, and clearly the dark-mage knew.

"You ready?" Laxus asked, voice mutated slightly in the way Freed's had when in his demon form.

"Definitely," Freed snarled as Laxus had when in Dragon Force, grinning.

They both pounced on their opponent, using their newly gained power to their advantage as they attacked the now desperate dark-mage. They were both riding the high of successfully performing a Unison Raid, movements fluid and comfortable despite the unfamiliar mutations that they had experiences. Everything felt right in a way that couldn't be explained.

Of course this was how to perform a Unison Raid. To be together with the man he cared for most, being forced into using the remainder of their power after being backed into a corner, that was the only way that they could fully release their power and combine their magics. Nothing artificial, nothing pre-planned and nothing false. Just a pure need for power mixed with a relationship based on admiration and love for each other.

This was how the two gained their title in the guild. An overwhelming display of magical ability that kept the guildhall safe from attackers. This was how Freed and Laxus became the Beats of Fairy Tail.

#fraxus week #fraxusweek #fraxus #freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #one shot #fanfic #fairy tail

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sablelab · 6 years ago

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Covert Operations - Chapter 51

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Jamie has an epiphany about his feelings and Claire’s reaction to his gift. Meanwhile he is actually setting a trap to capture Madame Cheung

*N.B. This chapter contains some suggestive text.

THANK YOU all for the lovely comments re the 50th chapter milestone. There will be a couple more chapters in the Madame Cheung arc and when Jamie and Claire return to Section One, they regroup and see what steps need to be taken to bring the rest of the triad down, for they have yet to capture the Dragon Head – Sun Yee Lok. THANK YOU for your support of my writing this story and I hope you continue to enjoy where I take our two characters in the chapters to come.

Chapters 1 - 50 can be found at …https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

CHAPTER 51(S)

It didn’t take long for Jamie to reach the bedroom and sliding Claire down his body they gazed into each other's eyes while the air around them crackled with pent up sexual energy. Her breath caught at the heat swirling in the depths of Jamie’s stare igniting a flame that burned deep inside her. Drawing his Sassenach nearer, her nipples beaded into tight buds against his chest while he continued to place kisses to her soft responsive lips. Claire coiled her arms back up around his neck and brought their bodies even closer, then applying the slightest amount of pressure she urged his head down for a hot open-mouth kiss. James Fraser tasted like heaven. His lips were warm and masculine, hot, demanding and oh so intoxicating. Lost to the moment, she sighed as his mouth captured hers compellingly.

Teasing the strands of his hair, Claire brushed the collar of Jamie’s shirt with her fingertips and then dug her hands into his thick mane of curls holding her body close to his so that there was little space between them. She wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of his hands and the heat of his mouth on her naked flesh as he tasted her, but their clothing was in the way. Feeling the distinct ridge of Jamie’s erection, there was no denying the heat of his need and Claire moved provocatively against him. Then with tentative fingers, she gently glided her hand over the front of his trousers. Moaning at her discovery, her hands sought and found the hardened ridge of his body and boldly explored him. A groan escaped from Jamie’s throat too at the boldness of her actions. In retaliation he skimmed her jaw while his lips trailed a steamy path down the side of Claire’s neck. Sensation shot through her with lightning speed and she lost her balance stumbling backwards. Catching her Jamie pressed his love up against the side of the dressing table. Claire moaned but continued to explore her new-found discovery. Caressing the fabric of his trousers she tormented Jamie as she glided her fingers over the bulge feeling him harden even more. He in turn struggled with his feelings as Claire’s movements were playing havoc with his libido. Boldly unzipping his fly, she slipped her hand beneath his trousers and felt his erection. Claire shivered with desire as her own sex pulsed in response. Aching for Jamie’s touch, she wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard cock and gently stroked the velvety smoothness of him. Jamie sucked in a sharp hiss of breath and lowered his hand down hard over Claire’s halting her movements. Tenderly picking her hand up, he caressed it placing a kiss to her palm. Need raked her insides as he held her gaze captive in a look Claire could not deny. James Fraser was mesmerized by the boldness of his Sassenach and staring at one another for a brief moment, they both reached out as lips collided once more. With a flurry of movement his hands were dexterous as he quickly removed the clothing that was a barrier to her skin. In no time Claire stood before him in enticing red lace lingerie. The high cut of her panties revealed the lithe length of her long legs while her breasts heaved in the constriction of her bra. The sight of her was nearly his undoing.

Trailing tender caresses down her throat Jamie lingered on her breast while his hands gently cupped her and his lips worked their magic. Claire’s head fell back when he squeezed her breasts and his thumbs searched for her taut nipples protruding through the lace. Capturing his face with her hands she pressed him closer to her flesh.

He kissed her again.

Sliding further down her body Jamie stroked Claire’s thigh were her panties rested on her skin. Placing his hand over the lace he cupped the heat of her groin and provocatively pressed his hand there. Feeling his touch, warmth spread straight to the region where his hand rested. Reluctantly though Jamie left her heaving in want for this more intimate touch as he removed his hand and skimmed it over her stomach while his other hand caressed her warm back. Claire trembled as riotous sensations coursed through her body. She moaned, but still Jamie’s gentle touch ignited the flames of desire and she could do nothing but enjoy the moment. Unclipping the fastening on the front of Claire’s bra her breasts broke free of the restraining garment and Jamie’s hands glided over her heaving chest removing the bra from her body. Capturing the lace on one finger he let it fall to the floor while his eyes held hers prisoner. His lips eventually returned to her chest and once again he caressed the mound of her breast lovingly.

Impatient fingers loosened Jamie’s shirt and pushed if from his frame while he quickly removed the rest of his own clothing. At the same time, he continued to glide up and over her body in familiar renewal of her velvet soft skin. Tracing his hands back down her thighs Jamie then lifted his woman into his arms as he lavished kisses to her mouth. Wrapping her legs around him, Claire wove her hands into his hair and held him tightly to her.

Lifting her closer Jamie deepened their kiss, meanwhile Claire’s hands encircled his head holding him enslaved to her mouth as her thighs held him in a vice like grip. They kissed wildly, then walking her backwards they fell to the bed and Jamie rolled his Sassenach beneath him.

The next morning…

Piercing blue eyes caressed Claire’s body as he watched the rise and fall of her chest in peaceful slumber. Leisurely running his hands over the soft skin of her back Jamie felt every gradation of her body, a body he knew so well. Claire’s kiss-bruised lips also tempted him and he tenderly placed a chaste caress to her soft mouth. Although a beckoning raw need for her once again darted through his veins, Jamie didn’t want to wake her, but the warmth of his Sassenach pressed against him as she lay asleep in his arms was oh so tempting. Sighing, Claire inched closer to his warmth.

His eyes travelled down the column of her throat before resting on her hand that rose and fell on his chest. Capturing it in his, Jamie drew her closer as his thoughts turned to the gift and her reaction to it. The spontaneity of her kisses last night when he’d given her the watch still played on his mind. He had felt a kick in the stomach when he’d seen her unshed tears and the impulsiveness of her reaction had captured his heart. His act of kindness had overwhelmed her. He didn’t know what had possessed him to barter for the watch ... he only knew at the time that he had seen how much Claire had loved the timepiece and he’d wanted her to have it. Her response only endorsed his decision to do so. He loved the way he felt at her reaction and was glad he’d done something out of the ordinary. So many times, he had hurt her, betrayed her trust, made Claire question the reasons why he did things ... but with this one gift he had somehow redeemed some of his past indiscretions. It felt good. He was captivated by this woman who was his world. He never realised that his gift would evoke such a profound response from Claire and he was overwhelmed with how her reaction made him feel as well. It was just a watch, albeit one that she had admired but when he saw it, he knew why she had loved it. He suddenly realised that it was not just a gift to his Sassenach but it was a token of his love that he’d bought it for her. This was obviously what Claire had felt in receiving the gift. He would never figure women out and especially not this woman, but he had to acknowledge it was why she had so suddenly welled up with tears and emotion. His gift had touched her heart and in return it had made him introspective. This wonderful woman was worming her way into his heart. He was falling in love with Claire Beauchamp more and more and for the first time in his life he could admit this to himself.

Ever since he had been recruited to Section One his life had been mapped out for him from the get go. He was a cold-blooded killer who had become desensitised to the notion of love. He’d always seen himself as an unlovable man because that is what Section had made him. He was a ruthless, calculated assassin and their penultimate cold operative who was devoid of any feelings or compassion and empathy. He’d never once questioned the why of his actions, that is until Claire was recruited to Section One and was given to him to train. He always knew that he was not worthy of love but this amazing woman obviously saw in him what he did not of his character. This had always been so perplexing because she had come into his life and turned it upside down. He didn’t quite understand how Claire could feel the way she did.

But now, his perception had changed. Suddenly everything made complete sense. He had clarity about his feelings for this woman that he had long suppressed but which Claire had been able to tap into. His Sassenach was unlike any other woman he had ever met. Little by little she was indeed breaking down the barriers he had erected surrounding his heart … ones which he thought were impregnable. Perhaps he was beginning to see what she saw … he was worthy of love after all.

Jamie pulled Claire into a tighter embrace. She played such havoc with his inner demons and sorely tested his control, but having her in his arms and feeling her warmth against his body was comforting. Jamie bent forwards. Brushing Claire’s hair away from her temple he smelt her inimitable scent, a smell so intoxicating that it drove him to distraction. His Sassenach was so beautiful ... if only she knew the power, she had over him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As he watched her sleeping, Jamie felt his body harden in reaction to his thoughts and her nearness. He tried to curtail his growing libido by reflecting on her deep cover mission with Madame Cheung.

It had been difficult but his presence had helped considerably. The Rising Dragons triad had many facets and this Madame Cheung had been involved in the very area that Claire abhorred. She was vulnerable where there were innocents being abused and this mission was beginning to take its toll on her emotions. However, their end game scenario would soon bring Madame Cheung’s reign to an end and severely incapacitate an important part of the triad’s business and revenue. Not only that, but the girls in her employ would be set free to return to their families or to start a new life free of the shackles of the triad. Claire would certainly relish the belief that they had achieved freedom for the girls in servitude and that their predicament was no longer. However, their failure to locate the elusive Sun Yee Lok would necessitate further missions until he was brought down. Once they returned to Section One, they would be able to regroup before the next phase that he knew would come. What this may involve was unknown but anything was possible. More than likely Claire would go undercover once more given her past experience but that was up to Madeline and Operations to decide the best course of action. He was thankful though that his Sassenach wouldn’t be involved in another deep cover mission like that with Madame Cheung on her own. Being so close to the Rising Dragons again would be far more dangerous for Claire especially coming on the heels of this mission. Another deep cover mission could put her in jeopardy and Section could ill afford for their operative to be compromised at such a crucial stage in the big picture.

Operations had said they were working this like an onion before capturing the Rising Dragons’ leader, but there were many layers yet to peel away that would require patience and perseverance.

Leaning into her body, Jamie gently traced Claire’s curves with his hands while his eyes caressed her delicate features. He kissed her and stroked his fingertips along her arm. His body began to betray him as he felt the surging need radiate though him. His Sassenach’s nearness was sheer torture. He wanted her. Feeling the tightening in his groin, Jamie’s breathing became more laboured and when he shifted his hips and pressed them closer to her warmth a moan echoed mournfully in their room.

Claire stirred. Instinctively she moved against him half opening her sleepy eyes. Closing them again, she snuggled closer to Jamie’s warmth as the throaty, soft timbre of her voice murmured his name.

“Jamie?”

“Aye?” Opening her sleepy eyes at the husky sound of his voice, Claire peered into the fathomless blue eyes of James Fraser. She could easily drown in those eyes that seemed to see deep into her soul. Surely Jamie knew that she adored him and loved him beyond comprehension. Claire smiled; her eyes lingering on his beckoning mouth. He grinned back at her then gently kissed her forehead. Reaching out, she tenderly stroked his stubbled face before running her fingertips along his tempting lips. They parted and he captured her wayward index finger caressing it with the tip of his tongue before reluctantly releasing it. Tracing Claire’s petal soft lips Jamie closed the distance between them gently stroking her face before capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss. “Good morning,” he replied in a hushed voice. “Good morning.” “We have to get up mo ghràidh.” “Do we?” Claire replied mischievously feeling his painful erection throbbing against her soft skin. Jamie watched as a beaming smile crossed her face. He couldn’t help himself. With her laughter echoing in the room he rolled his woman beneath him capturing her mouth in a punishing kiss that silenced them both as desire for each other consumed them. Later that morning ...

Wandering into the breakfast nook, Claire saw that Madame Cheung was already there. “Good Morning Madame”

“Claire ... Where is Monsieur Le Comte? He’s not with you ... Hmmm?” “No, he went for a swim in the pool.” “Ahhh ... Needed some cooling off, did he?” She intonated slyly noticing that her protégé was a little dishevelled this morning. “But of course ... Madame!” Madame Cheung laughed out loud at her hidden innuendo. “Good ... Come sit down.” Claire joined her at the breakfast table and the woman watched as she moved her food around on her plate seemingly lost in thought. “What ... No appetite my dear? Or are you thinking about that intoxicating man Monsieur Le Comte? It appears that you are entertaining him well judging by that rosy flush I see on your cheeks.” “No ... you actually,” Claire replied glancing at the woman sitting opposite her. “Me?” She replied somewhat bemused. “Yes ... about where you grew up. Were you like the girls in your employ? Oh, lots of things really.” She paused before adding, “I grew up on the streets in many different places ...” “Yes ... I know.” Claire looked at her with surprise. “Did that happen to you too?” “Don’t be embarrassed Claire ... I recognized immediately that you were from the streets. I too had a poor upbringing. I pretty much grew up on the street myself.” “Did you? Not that it shows ... Well, perhaps a little in the eyes. You’ve done very well.” Jamie had not yet made an appearance on the terrace and was listening intensely to their conversation on his frequency channel, hoping that Claire wouldn’t mention Madame Cheung’s procurement of the young girls they had seen at her club. What he did know was that she was baiting her into revealing her plans for the next few days. He lowered his head, and began worrying his chin with his fingers absently waiting for their conversation to turn towards the information they required to set the mission profile for her capture into action.

“One thing about the streets is that you learn to take care of yourself. That some brains and a little luck … You’re a fighter like me. You’ve survived Claire and now that you are working for the Rising Dragons, we will take care of you.”

“Is that how you came to be in the triad?”

“In a fashion … yes it was. I worked my way up the ranks when my potential was recognised and I have never looked back. I see a similar projection for you in the triad Claire like myself.”

“Thank you. I’m very happy working for you Madame.”

She smiled at her reply. “That is good.”

“Madame Cheung? I was wondering if you would like to join Monsieur Le Comte and I on a trip to Koh Samui tomorrow?” “Unfortunately, I have to stay in Bangkok for the next two days.” “Business?” “Does it really matter?” “So where are you going if you don’t mind me asking?” Claire queried looking for the intel that they need to set the wheels in motion for her capture. “No, not at all my dear. I have to attend to some business at the club ... I’ll be there for the next couple of days. But you enjoy yourself at Koh Samui tomorrow ... anyway you don’t need my company when you have Monsieur Le Comte. Now do you?” “No Madame ... I can learn more about him that may be of use to the Rising Dragons.” “Exactly ... Perhaps you can take in some sights around Bangkok as well. I’ll have Magnus prepare the limousine.” Just then Jamie entered the terrace and made his way towards the two women. Looking up, Madame Cheung noticed his approach. “Oh, here comes Monsieur Le Comte now.” “Bonjour mes demoiselles - Good morning ladies.” “Good morning ... Come sit down and have some breakfast, or would you prefer juice?” “Coffee will be fine.” “Claire was just saying that you planned on going to Koh Samui tomorrow.” “Oui.” “And today? ... Perhaps some sightseeing?” “That’s what I’d like to discuss Madame. Perhaps I could come to the club and go over our business propositions. I’m sure Claire could relax here by the pool.” “Sounds good to me,” Claire replied. “Certainly Monsieur Le Comte. Splendid idea. The quicker we go over our business agreement the quicker we can set things in motion ... don’t you agree?” “Definitely.” “Excellent ... but come this afternoon ... then you can spend time with Claire as well.” Madame Cheung smiled cagily ... “I don’t want to monopolise your time ... after all you are paying for her services.” “Of course.” “I’ll see you later then.” “Yes. Yes, you will.” Jamie replied with a disguised undercurrent in his tone that was foreboding for this woman.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

#jamie and claire #JamieandClaire #jamie and claire fanfic #James Fraser #claire beauchamp #outlanderfanfic #covertoperations

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darkpoisonouslove · 6 years ago

Text

“Your Call”

Summary: Valtor is after a powerful enchantment that will force him to face the most dangerous challenge he's ever encountered. Will that be enough to deter him from his pursuit of power or will it simply make the hunt more interesting? Siren AU. Part 1 of “Love Can Be a Trap That Sets You Free”.

In her review of my previous Valtor/Griffin fic @her-majesty-wears-jeans mentioned siren in relation to Griffin and my brain immediately jumped on the Siren AU train. So here is the Siren AU that nobody asked for but I hope you'll enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Seriously, this was so much fun to write!)

Valtor assessed the entrance of the cave. It looked open and unprotected, and ready to lead him to the enchantment he was seeking. A fool would’ve run straight into it, lured in by the promise of unparalleled power. But Valtor was no fool. The mere fact that he’d gotten this far proved it. The location of the cave had been hidden behind countless riddles and obstacles that he’d smashed right through, determined to lay his hands on what could possibly be the greatest treasure of all. It would be his no matter how much patience and resources he had to exhaust.

He summoned a ball of magic and crouched, ready to dodge if necessary. He threw it at the entrance of the cave, but it was blocked and dispersed by the shimmering net of yellow that revealed itself. Pesky fairy dust. He’d be damned if he ever let that of all things stop him. Especially now that he was so close to getting the one tool that could make all his desires come true.

His own magic was useless against the barrier–as proven–since it was meant to repel all dark magic and his Dragon Fire was as black as the coals it left behind. Luckily, he’d stolen some spells for rainy days.

He used the oppositus spell he’d stolen not long ago, robbing an entire planet of its defining trait, on the barrier itself. It was neither light, nor dark magic in essence and provided him with the perfect way to override the otherwise effective defense system.

The bright yellow turned into dark purple that hurt the eyes and looked like it would jump at you and wrap around you tight enough to suffocate you. But to Valtor it was the color of victory. He threw another ball of power at it, causing it to tear and fall to the ground, dissolving into the grass. It was where useless dust belonged anyway.

Now that that was out of the way, he could take a good look at the cave. Well, actually, he couldn’t since it was engulfed in darkness that started right at the line of the entrance even though the sun was supposed to shed some light on the first few meters, at least. But where magic was involved, nature was powerless. And when he obtained the enchantment he was after, everything and everyone would be powerless against him.

He conjured a magical sphere that would follow him and float around him no matter where he went and captured a flame of his Dragon Fire inside it. Light seemed secured but when he pushed the sphere into the darkness of the cave, the flame was immediately extinguished. This was proving to be a challenge which would only make the reward sweeter.

He considered his options. Not that there were many. He couldn’t go back now. So he had to figure out a way to keep the flame intact. Separated from its source, it could be extinguished, indeed. The problem carried the solution in itself.

Valtor cut off a strand of his hair and put it in the sphere before lighting the fire in it again. It carried the essence of the Dragon Fire and would keep it burning.

And indeed, when he extended his hand forward, the sphere dispersed the darkness and allowed him to see the place of his greatest conquest yet. It was an ordinary cave with no remarkable features except for the darkness which hid its ugly plainness. He hoped the rest of his journey wouldn’t be quite so underwhelming.

He stepped inside and felt the space behind his back close in on him. When he looked back, there was nothing but darkness. Gone were the clearing in front of the entrance and the stone walls he’d just seen. He was walking in darkness, stepping on darkness, surrounded by darkness. There was nothing but darkness and him. He’d be scared if they weren’t old friends, if it weren’t flowing through his veins and allowing his lungs to take in air, to take in life.

He walked. And walked. And walked. And all he was getting to was more darkness. It was just the next obstacle on the road. It was a spell that manipulated space, making it stretch out before you until you forgot your destination because you were getting nowhere. And you couldn’t be nowhere so it brought you back at the last place you could remember before you could lose your mind. The moment his mind formed the word “nowhere”, he’d be spat back at the entrance, forced to begin the process all over again. Well, he wasn’t planning on doing that. His mind was set on his goal and his secure steps were taking him right there. His desire to claim his prize was burning in him stronger than the tiredness.

His determination never wavered, and neither did the flame in his sphere. It brought him to a small passage in the rocks. The same rocks he’d seen at the entrance. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see the sun drenched clearing just a cast behind him. He grinned at himself. That sight almost made even him feel like it’d been all for naught. And it was so much better than the derision which the miniature hole in the stone brought about. As if that could pass as a challenge.

He turned into a rabbit that was just big enough to go through and hopped through the hole, his sphere following him and revealing devastating beauty before his eyes.

The place was full of silver flowers with fine petals that reflected the soft light reaching them and created a glowing aura. It was magical in every sense of the word and carried a quiet strength that was so breathtaking, it would be a shame to step all over them.

Valtor considered passing through the field of flowers as he was – a little rabbit that was light and small enough to go between the stems without causing any damage. He was already in rabbit form anyway. It wouldn’t cost him anything.

Caught up in his thoughts, he only noticed the bugs approaching him when they attacked him. They were almost as big as him and attached themselves to his front and back. Two were enough to hold him down but they kept piling on top of him, threatening to crush him underneath their weight. He tried to shake them off since he couldn’t use his magic in that form but he couldn’t move. Their reddish brown bodies were like a rusty armor that would not allow any movements. And it looked like their carapaces were resistant to magic because he couldn’t transform back. His magic was trapped into his body which, in turn, was trapped between the bugs with no option of escape.

He summoned the sphere with the Dragon Fire to hover over the bugs and willed the fire to burn as brightly as possible. It seemed to do the trick for they got off of him and he was human again in no time, running straight into the field of deceitful beauty.

The moment he crushed the first flower, the grass seemed to come to life with its tiny sickly green tendrils reaching for anything that wasn’t fast enough to get out of their way. They swallowed up the silver stems and tore apart the delicate petals with sadistic passion. But their appetite–just like them–seemed ever growing for they grabbed for Valtor, too, wrapping around his boots in an attempt to hold him down. He used his magic to ward them off, but they kept plaguing the place, growing with every stem of silver they devoured.

In his haste to get past them, Valtor almost stepped on a snake that was lounging amidst the massacre with decided indifference. It was beyond him how he didn’t see its deep purple scales in the sea of green, but he’d missed it all the same, busy with the killer plants.

It hissed at him before diving towards him to bite him, its fangs sharp enough to go through his boots and full of magical poison.

He managed to dodge by throwing himself on the ground that was still covered with monstrous grass. It snaked around him with a clear intent to kill while the snake watched, its tongue coming out of its mouth as if it could taste his defeat and its eyes in the same sickly green as the grass that was currently putting enough pressure on him to break his bones.

For a moment it crossed his mind that the snake was controlling the grass–its manic stare would be proof enough–but he brushed the thought off. It would take a greater power than a glorified magical lizard to bring him down to his knees. Or in this case – sprawled on the ground and cornered by grass.

His blood started boiling and he allowed the pulsing energy to radiate off of him, emitting unbearable heat in the air via his magic that cooked the grass and forced the snake to retreat. He was quickly on his feet and ran after it to see it crawl into the still waters of the lake that he hadn’t noticed up until now.

No wonder, really – the waters were as black as the soil and the only thing he could see was the green glow of the snake’s eyes under the surface. Its movements indicated for a very steep slope that went down almost vertically. One step in the water and he’d be completely submerged.

That was not the best news for someone whose magic was fire-based. Even if he had the Dragon Fire. But he knew he had to dive if he wanted the enchantment. There was nowhere else for it to be hidden and the snake’s choice of a hiding place was further proof.

As he contemplated his approach, a loud flapping of wings startled him. He looked up only to lock eyes with what he would’ve mistaken for a giant hummingbird if not for the solid beak and intelligent eyes. No, what was looking back at him form a niche high up in the wall with yet another pair of glowing green eyes was a crow. A crow with purple and green glittering feathers. It was magical. Just like everything else he’d seen in the cave of wonders. Wonders that were trying to kill him.

The moment the crow extended its wings, Valtor summoned his magic, ready to defend himself. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again. And the feeling of power in his fingers reminded him just how much above these magical beasts he was.

The crow flew straight for him, dodging the magic he threw at it, and used its beak to tear a single hair from Valtor’s head before making a turn and flying back over the lake. It dropped the hair in the water and returned to its niche before Valtor could even attack it again. So much for his previous thought.

He almost missed the movement in the water while trying to stare into the crow hard enough to decipher its bizarre behavior. Two fingers showed from beneath the surface to grab the hair and disappeared again without leaving a trace in the water that was still as a rock again. They did leave his curiosity piqued, though, and his heart thumping loudly in anticipation. He would finally get to see who was the puppeteer of that beautiful, yet, hostile ecosystem.

A wave of magic swept over him and he looked at the water that was hellbent on keeping its secrets and gave nothing away. He didn’t have to wait much longer, though, for the water finally moved to make space for the creature emerging from its depths.

She had long light purple hair that fell over her breasts, protecting them from his greedy gaze, and a fish tail in a darker shade of purple, the scales looking exactly like those of the snake. He’d thought her to be a mermaid if it weren’t for her eyes. They reflected so much of the light that they were glowing and were molten gold in color – the shade of the sky during sunset. And how fitting that was since that was exactly what they were made to watch – the sunset of people’s lives.

She was a siren whose only purpose was to lure everyone who walked into the cave to their death to protect the powerful magic hidden in her domain. A purpose rather lowly for a magnificent and powerful creature like her. Her skin had a pale green glow to it – the same glow as the eyes of the animals and the grass. They were her creations just like the flowers that were growing between the scales of her tail and were sustained by the magic of her body. One of them tore away and used its leafs to swim over to a rock where it attached itself and started developing a root system that soon covered everything it could reach. The place where the flower had been growing on her had the color of her skin but quickly turned purple and extended over the scales beneath it, turning into another one of them when it was touched by the water.

And in the skin of her abdomen, below her breasts, was embedded what could only be a key. A golden key that kept the enchantment he was looking for safe into her grasp. The irony was so sweet he could laugh. The only way to get your hands on the one magic that could make anyone do as you desire was to resist the temptation of the siren. And if you failed, you’d have to do as she desired of you for the rest of your decidedly short life.

Oh, but Valtor wanted more than just the magic. He wanted the siren. For she was made of pure magic. He could feel it radiating off of her skin. It was so powerful that it lured him in closer, right to the edge of the lake. One more step and he’d fall in her embrace. He wanted to. He wanted her. She had to be his for he wanted her more than the enchantment he’d come for.

“Welcome to my lake,” she spoke with a voice as deep as the ocean.

“That was a very warm welcome I got there,” Valtor said, unable to take his eyes off of her, afraid she might disappear back under the water that he couldn’t see through. The mere thought tasted bitter like failure.

“It wards off those who do not deserve my attention,” she explained and he ate up every single word formed by her voice. It was like music to his ears and he never wanted to listen to anything other than that magical sound. “I can grant every wish. You don’t even have to say it. Just think about it and it’s yours.”

Valtor almost didn’t think of the enchantment, his mind full of all that she was, his senses overloaded with perceiving everything that she did. He couldn’t function without her at his side anymore. He had to have her. “What’s the price?”

The corners of her mouth twitched up. “A simple kiss,” she said, causing his mind to stop working altogether. Kissing her would be like tasting magic in its purest form. No will was strong enough to resist that. Not that he wanted to.

“I believe we have a deal,” he knelt down to level himself with her. Suddenly, the steep bottom of the lake seemed like a blessing for it allowed her to come close enough to touch, close enough to kiss.

He buried his hands in her long purple hair that had been dry the moment she’d shown her head above the water and pulled her closer.

She clutched at his clothes, keeping him in place as she stole the breath out of his lungs, her soul trying to drown his. It was a common misconception that sirens didn’t have souls. But they did. They had souls like the ocean and once you got lost in their waves, you lost your soul to the siren and she could make you do her bidding. And right now her ocean was fighting to extinguish his flames.

Part of him wished to let her do it. Just lose himself into the incomprehensible waves of her power, into the ocean of magic that she was. But that way she would have him. And that was every bit as different from him having her as their core elements. So he had to resist the urge to give in and keep his fire burning.

His oxygen was running low, though, and if he didn’t pull away, he would die. But if he did pull away, he would die, too. If he broke the kiss, he’d be hers and she’d mark him with the first letter of her name–all too tempting a possibility since the power of the ocean was captured in every siren’s name and it was written in the language of the waves that no human could understand–using water to carve it into his skin like the waves carved holes into rocks. And she would only stop when the water was spilling down his throat and making his lungs burn for air that would never come.

He discarded his gloves, letting them fall into the water, and moved his hands to her neck, covering the gills located there. The feeling of her bare skin under his palms was so heady that he would never let her go. He concentrated all of his power into sucking the oxygen out of her body and into his. He felt it flowing through his blood and towards his brain, helping him stay focused. He could feel it affecting her, too, for she slowed down in her fervor and it wasn’t long before she was pulling away. And that was how the fire triumphed over the might of the ocean.

He gasped for breath, yet yearned only for her, and the only thing that calmed his frantic heart was the knowledge that she was his and he would never let her go.

He had to pull his hand away from her neck when he felt her skin burning under his fingers. There, next to the gills, appeared an elegant v burnt into her skin. Her own magic was marking her with his initial because she was his now. And he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than the look on her face.

She was looking at him as if he was her everything. And he was. He meant more to her than the ocean now.

Without a word she dived into the lake to get what he’d come for. Though now he had a problem. Or at least he thought so before he saw the scales of her tail going all the way up her spine and into her hair. It was a physical expression of the ocean woven into her soul that linked her to the water. But she was faithful to him now.

She soon emerged with a shell in her hands and nothing more than a pale scar where the key had been nestled into her skin.

He pocketed his enchantment and pulled the real pearl up on the shore. He put a hand between her breasts and willed his fire to burn and force all the water out of her soul.

Her face scrunched up in pain but she held still for that was his will. Her scales started to lose color and retreat back, turning into human skin cells. Her tale separated into two legs that would allow her to walk together with him and her gills closed, leaving no sign of ever existing. The edges of the mark on her neck got distorted and made it look like an ugly wound rather than the elegant brand that it was. And her eyes lost their bright glow, turning a shade tamer as if the sun had already set on their sky. Gone was the adoring look, too.

He hoped he hadn’t overdone it. He knew he had. Or maybe that was just the price for taking away a part of her soul. He couldn’t be her ocean if she didn’t have one engraved into her being. He also might have burned away enough of the spell that made her his to give her free will. But he had the enchantment now so losing her was not a problem he had to worry about. She’d be his one way or another.

He made her a dress in the same dark purple that her tail had been and helped her up. He supported her until she got stable enough for him to let go of her and allow her to deal with the killer grass that had almost stopped him on his way to her and had grown back even though he’d destroyed it. But now that he had her, it wouldn’t be a problem. Nothing would be.

She raised her hands and the green glow of magic that came out of them made the grass retreat back into the soil, leaving the path clear for their passage.

The crow cawed inconsolably but she silenced it with a single motion of her hand. Valtor wasn’t even certain if she’d used magic. But the crow didn’t try to interfere and passively watched them go. The life of the lake was nothing without her.

She smashed to pieces the wall that had forced him to shapeshift before with the violent purple energy coming out of her hands.

“Come, Griffin,” he offered her a hand and gave her a new name. She was his now and her name had to reflect that. The griffin was a powerful and majestic animal with wings strong enough to keep up with a dragon. The perfect partner.

She took his hand and he walked out of the cave not only with his life and the enchantment, but also with a powerful partner who would follow him into the fire.

#winx club #winx valtor #winx griffin #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #au #siren au #love can be a trap that sets you free

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