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.
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The first time it happened, it was an accident.
No, really.
Seriously.
Two years ago, Shicmuon managed to follow him up to this giant forest located on the border between the Demon land and the Human land. The border itself was usually hidden, some complicated runes keeping it invisible to humans. Located in the mid-air crevice between the mysterious giant forest and a seemingly serene lake, it was a bit difficult to reach, so *technically*, no creature would enter the gate by accident.
But a gate was still a gate.
So even if it was mostly dormant, with nobody using it due to its hard-to-reach location, it still spread its influence all over its surroundings and caused some strange phenomena and mutations.
Fortunately, humans rarely wandered this far due to the creepy atmosphere, poisonous plants, and the rumors that some hideous man-eating aquatic monsters were hiding in the serene lake. On the other hand, the fact that this spot was avoided meant there was no adequate or reliable source of info about the kind of phenomena actually happening.
Until now, that was.
“Just give up, you lunatic!” Blow shouts, cradling his injured bleeding hand, leaning against a giant tree, completely drenched from head to toe. The teleportation scroll somehow dumped him above the lake, so of course he promptly fell into the water and had to swim a bit to reach the shore. Thankfully the same thing also happened to Shicmuon and his tail, so he was not at a disadvantage. Much. “Aren’t you tired already?!”
He fully expected Shicmuon to retort some absurd remark and charge at him again, but strangely, Shicmuon just stood where he was, staring at the full moon above.
“Hey.” Shicmuon said. “What’s this place called?”
Blow blinked. “Why is that important now?”
This seemed like a good time to run since Shicmuon was distracted enough to actually take his eyes off of Blow. But history suggested that anything that actually managed to take Shicmuon’s attention away from Blow was usually VERY dangerous, and Blow tended to veer more toward caution. Much could be said about Shicmuon’s shitty personality, but his ability and magic sense were truly top notch.
“The Numinous Valley.” Van said, resting his hands on his knees, breaths ragged due to following after Shicmuon, equally drenched. “For the Ordained Divine. People believe this place used to be a place for worship. Though worshiping what, nobody knows. Shit. I’m dying. Can’t we stop now?”
Maybe it was because of the wet dog-like ears, but out of the three of them, Van looked the most pitiful. Like an old, worn out dog left abandoned in the rain.
Shicmuon was still staring at the moon above.
Blow took a look, trying to see what Shicmuon saw. But it was just an ordinary moon to him.
“Shic?” Van called, cautiously. “Something wrong?”
For some reason, Shicmuon took off his outer robe and dropped it on the ground. Slow, like the garment was heavy. Or like something was impending his movements, and he had a hard time moving. “Bad reaction. Unfamiliar.”
…what?
Blow and Van exchanged a look. Van tilted his head slightly, asking. You feel that?
Blow shook his head in answer.
A cough. “I feel like shit.” Shicmuon said. Then proceeded to take his jacket coat off his shoulders, and let it hang around his arms, like he couldn’t bear to take it off completely. “I can’t–”
CRACKLE
Oh shit.
Blow was just about to run, but unfortunately he stepped on a thin branch and it broke. Now both Van and Shicmuon’s attention were on him.
No time like the present!
He turned around and bolted.
Thus began another desperate chasing, to the chorus of Van crying stop goddamn it you heartless kids who has no respect for your dying elders—
Or supposed to anyway.
While Shicmuon was still chasing him at the same speed, somehow his magic aura that was usually so fierce and unforgiving right now felt… sluggish? Like it was struggling to work.
Did he somehow trigger a curse while teleporting here?
Huh.
More chances to run!
Blow sped up, leaping and jumping through the tree branches. He focused all his magic on speed, sacrificing several dark tendrils used for detection and shields. Thinking he finally lost Shicmuon and saw a light in the distance, he sped up even more desperately than ever—
Several magic circles suddenly activated all around him, glowing bright red.
Oh shit abort abort abo—
KABOOM!
Goddammit.
Was it even necessary to extort all these powers just to attack him?! He was not some giant monster; he was just a Rood Chrishi, just a *human*.
Technically.
Sort of.
At least in appearance.
Anyway.
By the time all the coughing had subsided and he could get his bearings again, Shicmuon was suddenly above him, his knees on either side of him, a bare hand going for his throat.
“Got you.” Shicmuon smirked, eyes flashing red.
Shicmuon applied just enough pressure to restrain him, and not choke him to death. Meaning if he could just talk to him *right*, Shicmuon might even be amenable to let him go through another deal.
But something was strange.
The fingers around his throat felt hot, trembling slightly. At first he thought the trembling was because Shicmuon was still catching his breath, but he already fought Shicmuon often enough to know Shicmuon should’ve recovered by now.
So why was he breathing hard still?
He was also still wearing his coat jacket in such an awkward way, bunching at the arms. Not only that, somehow during the chase, the top buttons of his shirt had become undone, and the skin under his jaw looked slightly red.
Huh.
“Shicmuon…?”
He was sweating profusely. While the smirk remained, the way his eyes were looking at him was a little…. Um. Ahem.
Let’s just say it kinda made Blow feel… *weird*.
Just a bit.
Then Shicmuon tilted his head slightly, blinking, looking *adorably* confused - which was not an expression he would ever associate with Shicmuon.
Shit.
There must be a curse at work here, because never in a million years would he ever use the word adorable to describe the overpowered homicidal lunatic currently sitting on him.
The hand around his throat tightened, almost experimentally. “Are you going to run away again?”
“That depends.” He choked out through his blocked airways. Painful, yes, but still not enough to actually suffocate him for real. “Are you going to kill me now?”
“I don’t understand. Why do you keep saying that?” Shicmuon said, tilting his head a little further. “Why would I try to kill you? It’s boring when you’re not around.”
Blow blinked.
Unless his mind was playing a trick on him, for some reason, just now Shicmuon actually sounded a little hurt.
What the hell.
Hesitantly, Blow reached out, trying to grab Shicmuon’s neck in return. Except he couldn’t, because a couple of years might have passed, but he was still shorter than Shicmuon and therefore had shorter reach as well.
This made him so mad for no reason.
So unfair.
What need did Shicmuon have for long limbs? He was a long-range fighter and actually didn’t even use weapons most of the time. The way his gigantic ego alone could fill out an entire room, he didn’t need his physical form to also do the same.
So Blow grabbed Shicmuon’s shirt lapel and yanked him closer. Pressed his palm against Shicmuon’s forehead, feeling him out for a fever. Only noticed the blood and dirt on his palm when he accidentally smeared both on Shicmuon’s clammy skin.
He blinked. He never actually expected Shicmuon to run a fever for real. And yet, here he was. Running a fever.
What the fuck.
The fever must have addled his mind already, since Shicmuon didn’t actually do anything and just stared at him with half-lidded eyes despite him touching his face like this.
“This feels–” the hand around his throat suddenly moved lower, going inside his shirt. With his other hand, he pushed on Blow’s shoulder, pinning him on the ground. “--nice.”
What.
He stared up Shicmuon, at a loss of words.
Meanwhile, Shicmuon’s hands were already splaying themselves on Blow’s bare chest (when did he even rip Blow’s shirt open?). “It’s just. You feel cool, and I like that.”
No, seriously, what.
His hand was already on Shicmuon’s forehead, so he just used it to smack Shicmuon on the face. “Shicmuon of the Magician’s Association! Snap out of it! You’re going to regret this later!”
A lick on his palm.
He shuddered, horrified, as he watched Shicmuon licking his palm, blood and dirt and all. Seemingly not enough, Shicmuon then started mouthing Blow’s fingers–one by one, before sucking on two of them.
“Hey! Asshole! Listen to me!”
Shicmuon was basically taking his fingers hostage, his fangs grazing skin amidst the heated inside of his mouth. Pretty sure if he pulled them, Shicmuon might just bite his fingers off just to keep them in his mouth.
No, *really.*
He tried to push Shicmuon off by hitting his face again, but instead of flinching or dodging it, Shicmuon actually leaned into it, like he really just wanted more contact, any way he could.
And Blow was just.
He was not a softie, but this situation was just too weird. Shicmuon’s magic still felt sluggish, and his usual strength was practically gone. If Blow forced it, he might be able to flee. Shicmuon would be too disoriented to follow after him now.
He was not a softie, but he really didn’t think he should leave Shicmuon here.
Shit.
“--which is why I told you guys to slow down, kids these days really didn’t listen—” Van suddenly appeared in the clearing, looking behind him, carrying Shicmuon’s discarded outer robe, hair still all wet, his tail dragging lifelessly. Then he turned around and—
They all froze.
Time stopped.
Shit.
“I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING!”
“IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!”
They shouted at the same time.
A pause.
“...”
Blow and Van looked at each other in panic and disbelief.
“W-what exactly did you see that was so bad that you had to pretend you didn’t see it?!”
Van looked at him incredulously. “Are you seriously asking me that? What do you think you looked like–no, what do you think you *are* looking like right now that you have to deny it right away?!”
Blow laying on his back, one hand on Shicmuon’s cheek while two of the fingers on his other hand were in Shicmuon’s mouth. Shicmuon on top of him, clothes askew, knees on his either side, hands busily groping his naked chest. Blood on Shicmuon’s face, his forehead, his nose. The way Shicmuon didn’t even spare Van a glance and just kept focusing on Blow, eyes feverish and skin reddened.
What did they look like, indeed.
“It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!” Blow shouted. When in doubt, it was best to deny. “And I totally wasn’t taking advantage of him!” he added hastily. Just in case it wasn’t clear.
Van just sent him an incredulous look.
Which was totally unfair, Blow thought.
This was Shicmuon.
Who the fuck even would ever dare to take advantage of *him*?
“How unlucky.” Van was pressing the heels of his palms over his eyes, like he thought if he pressed hard enough, he would be able to forget the scene he just witnessed. “Shit.” He took a deep breath.
Took off his hands, only to see Shicmuon trying to take a bite of Blow’s collarbone, pressing himself down, while Blow half-heartedly tried to keep him away by swatting him with his bloody hand—which was highly ineffective. That was like trying to keep away a naughty cat by swatting at it using catnips. Of course the cat would go crazy and chase after the catnips. Just the same, Shicmuon let go of his objective only to chomp on Blow’s hand instead.
Dammit.
Van’s palms were back over his eyes in no time. “Anyway, I was about to tell you two the properties of this Lake. There were some reports about how the lake water can cause some unbearable fever to humans, but it’s manageable and nontoxic as long as it’s not during full moon–which would heighten the potency–and you don’t accidentally swallow any demon blood. Pretty easy right? I mean what kind of idiot would ever try to swallow—wait a minute.”
They both looked at each other.
And then looked at Shicmuon, who had been licking the blood off Blow’s hand since earlier, and now in the process of chewing Blow’s hand, his fangs drawing fresh blood.
Shicmuon, who was the only one truly *human* among the three of them.
Who was also, currently, out of his mind.
Sucking on Blow’s blood—whose body was definitely NOT human, despite the appearance.
“...”
Oh dear.
“...what now?” Blow asked.
“...just have sex or something. It’s faster that way.” Van said in the voice of someone who totally had given up on life. “Oh Lord, the President is totally going to kill me.”
What the fuck.
“Excuse me?!”
“It has aphrodisiac effects. Fevers, unbearable arousals. It has magic properties, so if Shicmuon’s own innate magic defense can’t fight it, there’s no cure. Other than letting it run its natural course and hoping it won’t kill him.”
No, seriously. What the fuck.
“Are you telling me this is a fuck or die situation?!”
“I wish you wouldn’t be so crass about it.” Van said, pressing his palms over his eyes harder. “It’s bad enough as it is.”
“Wait a minute. Even if this is a dire fuck or die situation, why does it have to be *me*?!
“Try to look down and check the inside of your pants, you pretentious brat!” Van took his hands off his eyes to make sure Blow received the full glare of his incredulousness and disbelief. “Deny it all you want, but I can smell *your* arousal, and you’re evidently very interested!”
Another pause, as they both glared at each other.
“...he’s going to kill me after.” Blow gritted out. “Why can’t it be you? He’s practically your responsibility!”
“He’s *always* trying to kill you even before this, so I don’t see the problem.” Then Van paused. Blinked. Watched the way Blow was stroking Shicmuon’s hair as Shicmuon continued to grope him with his hands and sucking tiny marks onto his necks and shoulders—all despite Blow’s own loud refusals.
Oh.
A realization suddenly dawned.
Damned kids and their insecurities.
“Look, if it’s the lack of romance that you’re worried about–” he ignored Blow’s loud protests and carried on, “--then you can just use *this* as an excuse to meet up normally instead of fighting! Try to have a coffee date or something! Ah right, make that a tea date, Shicmuon hates coffee.”
Blow glared at him.
“Your President is going to kill me.”
Van rolled his eyes. “Throw Shicmuon at him.”
The President of the Magician’s Association’s one and only weakness: his son.
This was the guy who, after losing everything, painstakingly built his own empire in the form of a organization with the wealth and influence that actually rivaled both the Royal family and the Magic Tower—all for the sake of taking custody of his only son and making sure said son would be able to freely choose the lifestyle he wanted, with all the backing and the supports he would ever need.
Something that the son’s mother didn’t have.
Something that the guy had been too late to deliver.
A freedom to choose.
Shicmuon only needed to say it, and the President would make it happen. All that he did, he did it all just to make sure his son was safe.
…whether or not Shicmuon realized that was another matter, and that was neither here nor there.
The point was, if Shicmuon insisted on it, the President would fold.
It was as easy as that.
Van looked at them again.
He was immediately assaulted with the sight of Shicmuon chewing on Blow’s earlobe, hands desperately trying to get the shirt off of Blow. Meanwhile, while Blow still looked reluctant, he actually tilted his head away, giving Shicmuon more access to his neck. Shicmuon seemed to take this as encouragement and started to grind their crotches together—
Ewww his poor eyes!
He screwed his eyes shut.
Well, if the Black Magician was still in two minds about it—
How about a little test?
“Look, if you’re still reluctant to do it, I understand. Then let me just take him off your hand. I’ll find someone actually willing to *help* him with his little problem, no biggie. Even though it would be a bit excruciating for him. Don’t worry though! It’s to~ta~lly fiiiiiiiiine!”
Van took one step closer, arms outstretched, getting ready to take Shicmuon away.
Several dark tendrils suddenly sprouted from the shadows on the ground and moved threateningly at him, as if warning him not to get any closer.
And just behind those dark tendrils—
Hands around Shicmuon’s head and back, pulling him down to him, the Black Magician glared at Van, his icy blue eyes eerily bright in this dark, dark forest.
Whoa.
Okay then.
“Just kidding.” he held his hands up in the universal surrender gestures. “He’s all yours.”
He was totally not going to start a fight with a primordial being.
Nope.
*
“Fine, this is my cue to leave.” Van said, sighing, bringing Shicmuon’s outer robe with him. He was ready to run to the other side of the continent where he wouldn’t be able to hear or see them anymore. “Stay safe. Make sure to use protection.”
Blow was mostly torn between wanting to glare at him or ask for help, and ended up doing neither.
“Oh, right. One more thing.” Van looked back over his shoulder. “Not that it matters, but our Shicmuon has never done it with anyone before. So. Try to be gentle maybe. Bye!”
Van ran so fast without looking back, the hounds of hell themselves might as well have been chasing after him.
Blow stared after him in disbelief.
…wait, what?
“Hey, comeback! You can’t just dump something like that and bail! I do *NOT* need to know that! Hey! HEY!”
T-that—THAT IRRESPONSIBLE MUTT!
*
As Master Kiel said, it was all about perspective.
So.
As long as he thought of this as another form of fighting, he wouldn’t feel too bad about this. Yup.
They were just fighting, as usual. Nothing weird about it. Nope.
Kissing Shicmuon was—awkward. It was noisy and there was too much spit and Shicmuon was too eager and could not time his breathing well, suffocating Blow in the process.
Sitting facing each other, Shicmuon nearly on Blow’s lap, his hands trying to take Blow’s clothes off completely, they were only kissing.
So why did it feel like Blow was fighting for his life?
“You’re wearing too many layers.” Shicmuon said, pulling away, hands struggling with Blow’s belts. Looking all annoyed. “I should get rid of these.”
A sudden flash of red–
“Wait!” His hands were instantly on Shicmuon’s face, pulling him down. Shicmuon’s bright, bright red eyes looked at him in surprise. “Undo your awakening! Now!”
Eyes wide, Shicmuon complied, and his hair turned dark red instead of bright, while his eyes turned blue. All the tiny red magic circles surrounding them instantly disappeared like they were never there in the first place.
It was then Blow’s heart finally stopped racing, and he could take a breath again.
Holy shit.
For a second there, Shicmuon was totally about to obliterate Blow’s cock. He might only mean to destroy the belt, but with his ridiculously overpowered magic, there was no telling how much damage he would cause. Especially considering he never did things half-heartedly. And his poor cock was just too close to the target area for his peace of mind.
(Un)fortunately, even the very real threat of Shicmuon exploding his cock was not enough to make it deflate.
Ugh.
For the last few minutes, they had just been groping each other. Or specifically, Shicmuon had been feeling him all over. His touch was curious, fervent, but nothing sexual, like he really just wanted to cool down his own feverish skin by pressing himself as much as possible against Blow’s much cooler skin.
All that, despite his own obvious boner.
This did nothing to ease the guilt Blow felt.
A finger pressed itself against the frown between Blow’s eyebrows, smoothing it, almost gently. Blow looked up at the finger’s owner.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Shicmuon asked.
The finger slowly moved down, tracing a line from his forehead to the tip of his nose. He tapped the tip once, twice and then used both hands to pinch Blow’s cheeks. Hard.
Ouch.
Eyes wide, he stared up at Shicmuon. “I asked you a question.” A hint of a pout in Shicmuon’s voice.
Oh Lord.
He’d like to slap his own cheeks to remind himself *adorable* was not a word you could associate with Shicmuon, EVER, except Shicmuon was currently holding his cheeks hostage.
Damn him.
“You.” Blow said. Damn but his cheeks are starting to hurt. “I was thinking about you.”
Shicmuon tilted his head, weighing his answer. Clearly finding it unsatisfactory. “Why do you need to think so hard-–when I’m right in front of you?” letting go of Blow’s cheeks, he messaged them with his fingers, evidently trying to ease the sting.
Don’t think; just do.
But all he did was worsen the pain.
A laugh.
Right. Of course he would notice. How was he still so incredibly annoying despite not being in his right mind?’
“You can’t blame me for this later.” Blow said quietly. He had already held himself back enough as it was. “This is your *last* warning.”
Give yourself to me.
“Do your worst.” He pressed his forehead against Blow’s, speaking into Blow’s mouth, his fingers digging into the sore spots still. He was still smirking. “You can *never* hurt me.”
I’m already yours.
So he pushed him and—
Let the darkness free.
*
Riddle me this:
You, who always had better situational awareness than anybody. You, with your sharp mind and your tunnel vision once you got obsessed. You, who had better reaction time than even the most experienced Royal Knights. You, who had always been sensitive about any magical interactions. You, who liked to brute force your way despite knowing the theories and the mechanisms behind puzzles.
You, who often noticed things before anyone else.
You, who remarked on the moon phase and pointed out the lake water’s weird magical interaction by demonstrating the effects.
You, who clearly laid out all the groundworks needed for your Guardian to take the *right* conclusion.
You–
Did you swallow my blood on purpose?
*
How dare Shicmuon complain about Blow’s clothes layers when he himself wore about five gazilions layers of clothes.
Blow refused to deal with them, so he let his dark tendrils rip everything apart except one, leaving Shicmuon only in his inner long-sleeved turtleneck.
His dark tendrils crawled slowly all over Shicmuon’s body, his legs, his thighs, his stomach. Several dark tendrils tied up Shicmuon’s wrists above his head, pinning them to the ground. A thin tendril wrapped itself around Shicmuon’s erect cock, while another wrapped around his balls, gently squeezing them in intervals, making him bucked and tensed up in succession, not letting him cum yet. Another tendril slipped inside Shicmuon’s turtleneck collar, and pulled the fabric up, bunching it up to his neck, exposing his naked chest, his nubs hard.
(For some reason, his Magician mark, located just above his heart, felt like it was judging Blow.
Which was just…um.
Must be only his paranoia talking.)
To top it off, a thin tendril wrapped itself around Shicmuon’s head, covering his eyes, blindfolding him completely.
Blow watched the scene in wonder. He stood over the restrained Shicmuon, much like the way Shicmuon had stood over him back in Magic Tower after he discarded his princely disguise.
He had tried touching his dark tendrils before, but they were intangible to him, much like smoke. He could not get a hold at all.
Yet here Shicmuon was, being held by Blow’s dark tendrils, and was absolutely feeling it. His pale skin was red all over, and his whole body was practically vibrating. Did it feel cool to the touch for him?
Huh.
Experimentally, he made a tendril flick on one of Shicmuon’s nipples. The effect was immediate; gritting his teeth, Shicmuon buckled, then tried to turn his body this way, clearly trying to ask for more.
Blow stared.
Shicmuon’s tiny pink nubs, standing proudly looking for attention, despite the slight tremor of his body, looked thoroughly delectable.
Blow licked his lips. Surely, a taste would be okay, right?
“En-enjoying it, aren’t you?”
Blow tilted his head, refocusing his attention to Shicmuon’s blindfolded face. He smiled. “Oh, absolutely.”
A slight frown between Shicmuon’s eyebrows, like he didn’t expect Blow to answer him at all and therefore was taken aback.
Blow flicked a finger, and two small dark tendrils started attacking Shicmuon’s nipples, pinching and pushing them down and rubbing them without mercy.
After some time playing with them, he discovered Shicmuon didn’t much care for the way he pushed the nipples down, pressing down on them. But he trashed every time Blow pinched them. Rubbed them gently, just to make him get used to it. Then pinched them from the base, starting gently again, only to increase the pressure bit by bit, and *pulled*.
Arching his back, the dark tendrils still holding him down, Shicmuon bit off a shout, releasing his seed in a long spurt.
Huh.
Interesting.
As Shicmuon weather the aftermath of his release, cum splattered all over his stomach and some even got to his still heaving chest.
It made quite a sight.
But Blow’s attention was drawn more by a small spot below Shicmuon’s perineum, where at the beginning he had inserted a small tendril the size of his small finger and kept it there—just to see the fit. The thing was only as long as his little finger too. At the moment, Shicmuon’s rim kept twitching, like it wanted to force the thing to get out.
Instead, gently, Blow inserted another tendril of similar size, making sure it fit nicely beside the first one inside. Then he looked up and watched Shicmuon for a reaction.
Shicmuon squirmed, and struggled weakly against his bonds, like he was testing their strength and give, so Blow reminded him again. “If you think it was too much, just [awaken]. I’ll stop right away.”
Mages in general needed to say the incantation verbally in order to awaken. So if they’re gagged and couldn’t speak, or their incantation was interrupted, then they couldn’t awaken or access their powers.
Except Shicmuon.
He awakened as easy and seamless as breathing, no incantation needed. In fact, he only used incantation in order to give his opponents a warning. So. even gagged and blinded, with no way to speak, he could still awaken anytime he liked, nothing hindering him.
Slowly, so very slowly, Shicmuon raised his middle finger at him.
Blow rolled his eyes.
Fine. be that way.
He took off his clothes one by one with care, and made the dark tendrils put them aside, away from the range of Shicmuon’s trashing.
Then he sat on Shicmuon’s chest, knees on either side of Shicmuon’s head, and gave Shicmuon’s nipples an affectionate flick. He advanced forward a little more and pressed the head of his hard cock, already sticky with precum, against Shicmuon’s closed lips.
“Open up.”
He kinda thought Shicmuon would take more persuasion, but surprisingly, he obediently parted his lips.
Huh.
“Let your tongue out just a little. Good boy.” he patted Shicmuon’s head. “No biting.” he let the head of his cock slide in, and stopped, trying to make Shicmuon get used to it. “Use your tongue to wet it. Good, now suck.” Shicmuon did, but it was clumsy, and he so clearly didn’t know what to do with the thing in his mouth.
The thing with Shicmuon was that, despite being a swordmaster on the side, he had the body of a Mage. He was really tall but he was not built like sturdy Van or even the Association’s President. Covered by a million layers of clothes and accompanied by the sure-fire way of carrying himself, he always looked bigger than he really was. Compared to Rood or even Blow though, Shicmuon certainly looked and felt bigger.
Which was why it surprised him how his erect cock could barely fit inside Shicmuon’s mouth–and he had only just inserted the head.
…Wasn’t your mouth too small?
You can never hurt me.
Well.
He traced Shicmuon’s lips around his cock with a finger. It was not much, but his fingers as Blow were bigger and longer than as Rood. Experimentally, he tried to insert a digit alongside his cock, through the small gap where his lower and upper lips met.
Shicmuon twitched.
Blow raised an eyebrow, even though he knew Shicmuon couldn’t see him. He withdrew the finger, but he still felt a bit mean today, so.
“You can always [awaken], you know.”
He shoved his cock deeper without warning. Heard Shicmuon’s muffled, surprised gasp. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he grabbed Shicmuon’s head with both hands to keep him in place as he started to thrust in earnest. His cock couldn’t fill all the way inside, and he certainly felt the head hitting Shicmuon’s throat, but he didn’t care.
Felt Shicmuon’s body struggling, his legs kicking out, his chest heaving, his bound arms about to rise.
His dark tendrils took care of that by binding Shicmuon’s limbs, stomach, and chest tighter to the ground, rendering him completely immobile.
Shicmuon gagged around his cock like he was about to throw up, and they couldn’t have that.
The dark tendril that was wrapped around Shicmuon’s cock, gently stimulating him, now pumping the erect shaft in earnest. He casted a lubrication spell and used it to slick Shicmuon’s cock, providing more friction for the dark tendril to work on. Another lubrication spell, this time to slick a small dark tendril he was about to add to the two inside Shicmuon’s ass.
He still couldn’t decide whether Van’s words were true, but it was better to be cautious and open him up slowly.
Shicmuon’s reactions so far kinda made him think there was some truth to it, which was—ugh, not something he wanted to think about.
The moment the small, slicked dark tendril squeezed itself into the hole to join its companions, Shicmuon trashed again, though it was restrained completely this time.
Might as well finish this.
He sped up his thrusting, chasing after his own release, not really caring for the state of Shicmuon’s mouth anymore.
The moment he felt he was about to cum, he pulled hard on Shicmuon’s hair, warning him. “Swallow.” he ordered urgently.
Shicmuon’s throat gave, and he shoved in for all he was worth, cumming so hard into Shicmuon’s throat he nearly saw stars.
A few seconds later, suddenly Shicmuon’s thrashing felt urgent, so he released all the dark tendrils restraining him and let up, leaning on his knees on either side of Shicmuon’s head.
Shicmuon urgently turned to the side, throwing up cums and spits and some bile. There was a lot. He coughed for some time, evidently trying to make his breathing process back in order. Once he calmed down some, he took a deep breath and laid back down, chest heaving, his skin red all over.
There were tear tracks on Shicmuon’s cheeks.
He stared at them, fascinated.
And yet despite the tears and the choked up throat thing, Shicmuon still didn’t awaken.
Stubborn bastard.
He pressed his still leaking cock on Shicmuon’s cheek, deliberately using the head to smear the cum all over, making his face slimy just to annoy Shicmuon.
Shicmuon glared at him.
The tear tracks on his cheeks. The glassy eyes, with tears that were still threatening to fall. His messy hair. The visible small wounds on the corners of his lips, courtesy of his cock. The fierce glare he was sending Blow right now. Blow’s cum all over his face—his hair, his eyelashes, his cheeks, the top of his nose, his lips.
He smiled.
Yeah, he liked Shicmuon better this way: disheveled, completely under his mercy, covered with his cums.
Mine.
He leaned down and licked Shicmuon’s eyelashes—tasting both tears and cums.
Mine only.
*
“You’re overthinking again, aren’t you.” Shicmuon said. It was not a question.
“This is totally necessary.” Blow said. “You may be fine getting hurt, but I do not want *my cock* getting hurt.”
Blow was sitting on the ground, while Shicmuon was on his knees over his lap, his hands around Blow’s shoulders. Currently, Blow was supervising four finger-sized dark tendrils spreading the inside of Shicmuon’s ass, trying to make him get used to the intrusion. Shicmuon’s cock was half-erect already, but he let it be for now.
He was too busy sucking on Shicmuon’s chest. The two tiny nubs were just right *there*, in front of his eyes. So how could he not have a taste?
Meanwhile, his hands were groping Shicmuon’s back and pulled him in, just so he could bury his face on Shicmuon’s flat chest.
Judging from the way Shicmuon kept trembling uncontrollably every time he teased his chest, Blow was pretty sure Shicmuon was actually more confused than pleasured, even if his face didn’t show much. He felt *something*, but didn’t know what to do with it since it was *not* pain. He was torn between wanting more of *that* feeling, or getting away from things unknown.
The magical aphrodisiac effect chose his answer for him, since it wanted as much skin to skin touching as possible.
Shit.
More and more, he started to believe Van’s words. Dammit. He was *not* supposed to care about that.
“Tell me about this lake.” he needed some distraction, so let’s just create one. “You seem to know about it.”
“Van already told you everything you needed to know.” Shicmuon said, a note of confusion in his voice.
“He didn’t know anything about the worship here.” Blow reminded him. Licking and chewing the tiny nub in front him like it was a hard candy.
“There’s nothing to know.” Shicmuon said, sounding like he was gritting his teeth together, preventing unwanted noises from coming out. “This was not a holy place or temple, but people used to come here to express their worship toward a forgotten God in the past. Their devotion was pure and sincere, causing the ground to commit their spell to memory. The ground then would try to replicate the effect in order to remember them by—even long after they stopped coming.”
He looked at his handiwork. Shicmuon’s right nipple, and the area around it, looked delectably red from his ministration, bite marks marring it every which way.
Shicmuon was breathing hard right now, looking down at him, eyes moist. His cock was already trying to rise again, while his knees seemed to tremble even harder.
“So it’s an Earth magic?” Blow moved to the other nub, which looked excited because Shicmuon was trembling openly. “Impressive. What’s this place called again?”
“T-the Numinous Valley. For the Ordained Divine—” again, he bit off a choked up moan. His breath was hot over Blow’s ear. “Named so for the way the ground forced the compelled people to mimic a worship procession over and over. The spell wouldn’t end until the ground deems the devotion is true and sincere. H-hence, the—the intercourse, since the sexual act is often thought as the act of worship.”
Interesting.
Van did say the fastest way to break the spell was through sex, but considering the way he said that, Blow still thought Van was only pulling his leg.
So having sex was seen as easier than actually conducting a proper worship ritual to a god of your choice? To appear truly devoted and sincere in your worship, you need to be in sound mind. And the fever would hinder that and make it impossible.
What an approach though.
He pulled away slightly and looked up at Shicmuon. “What are you going to do if I wasn’t here?”
“Huh?” Shicmuon tilted his head adorably, not really registering the question. Then Blow started licking his left nipple, only using the tip of his tongue, the way a cat would drink using its tongue. Fast, in succession. Not really giving him a chance to think. “If you weren’t—weren’t there, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”
Huh.
Interesting, but didn’t really answer his question.
“In the beginning, if Van actually did take you away from me—would you really do it with somebody else?”
His hands were on Shicmuon’s ass, kneading the flesh. Not that there was much to hold, since Shicmuon’s ass, just like his chest, was firm and a bit flat.
He looked at his dark tendrils inside Shicmuon’s hole critically. They were still moving gently inside, careful not to go too deep all at once.
…maybe he should replace the dark tendrils with his fingers?
Another lubrication spell, too, because you could never be too careful.
“Uh, no?” Shicmuon said, hugging Blow’s head, pressing Blow’s face against his chest. He probably thought it would alleviate the symptoms and ease the intense feelings. No way. This just gave Blow more excuse to leave imprints of his teeth on Shicmuon’s already reddened skin. “He would just take me home and let the Old Man deal with the rest. T-the Old Man always seems to have a counterspell for everything.”
A pause.
What.
Hold up.
He pulled away and stared up at Shicmuon in disbelief. “Are you telling me even *without* me touching you, this cursed spell would have resolved itself eventually?”
That—that irresponsible mutt!
Faster, his ass!
How could he dump his charge at a stranger, tell him the most outrageous solution, and bail?! He was so going to kill that furry bastard!
“Y-yeah?” Shicmuon panted, grasping Blow’s hair to keep himself steady. “I would be indisposed for about-–ugh, 2 weeks, maybe? I’m really strong, but brute-forcing a counterspell always has some serious and unforeseen consequences. The Old Man would only do it if there was no other choice.”
The point was, they didn’t even need to do this at all! So maybe he should just—
Palms pressed against Blow’s cheeks, forcing him to look up at Shicmuon’s face.
His half-lidded eyes, which reflected Blow’s silhouette. His feverish reddened skin, which made him look like he was blushing. His neck, littered with Blow’s haphazard teeth prints. The small wounds on the corners of his mouth. His slightly swollen lips, which Blow had vigorously kissed and sucked until a few minutes ago. His small tongue peeked out to wet his lower lip, only to be followed by a slight twitch—as his lips must have been still sore, too.
“...Blackie, please.” Shicmuon said, voice low and breathy, looking up at Blow through his pretty eyelashes.
Blow’s deflated cock suddenly stood firm in respect.
“Um.”
How the fuck Shicmuon even made the impression of looking up at him despite the fact he was currently positioned above Blow, Blow really didn’t want to know.
“Touch me more.” Hands around Blow’s head, he mouthed Blow’s earlobe and chewed it, wetting it with his tongue. The wet sound was so loud in Blow’s ear, driving him crazy. “I want your hands on me. You really feel good here~”
It was Blow’s turn to tremble from *want*. “Who the fuck taught you those words? We need to have a *talk*.”
“Save me.” Shicmuon said, bestowing small, lingering kisses all over Blow’s face. “It’s your thing, isn’t it? Saving people. Solving problems. I can’t stand *this* anymore, so please—save me.”
Goddammit.
He dispersed all of his shadows and pushed Shicmuon onto the ground, flat on his back. Crawled over him and released the full might of his powers, letting Shicmuon bear the brunt of it—
Naked.
Unawakened.
Without any of the protections and defenses his magic might have provided him.
He should’ve been terrified.
For the being before him was not merely a ruler but the sovereign of the abyss, a god draped in shadows, his presence as inevitable as the night that swallowed the world whole. The air around him trembled with a quiet, inescapable power—cold, commanding, absolute.
Yet Shicmuon just laughed.
Tears in his eyes, he looked up at him fondly—like he was seeing something so precious that he had missed dearly for so long.
“Come to me.” Shicmuon said, smiling, eyes soft.
And the King, mesmerized, obeyed.
*
There was no ceremony, no ritual, no nothing.
The King was inside him, all over him, overwhelming him in all the ways that mattered.
For such was the nature of a King: he took what was offered to him willingly and cherished it for all eternity. Treasured every part and returned the devotion a thousandfold.
His eyes, icy blue as they were, held no warmth, yet they saw everything. They stripped away pretense, peering into the depths of a soul with an intimacy that was both terrifying and intoxicating. To be caught in his gaze was to be known—to be claimed. His touch was firm, unrelenting, a brand upon the spirit itself. Once he took something into his grasp, he never let it go.
The King knew not of love, but he understood devotion. And so when he set his gaze upon a soul, when he decided they were his, it was not love that bound them to him—it was something far greater, far more inescapable.
What was a mortal body in the might of such a King? Nothing but dust in the wake of his power, a fleeting breath swallowed by the abyss. And yet, for all its fragility, for all its insignificance before him, he held it as though it were a thing of consequence. Not because he cherished it, not because he loved—but because it was his.
And when the one caught in his grasp trembled beneath the weight of his claim—when Shicmuon gasped, when he fought, when he yielded—something within the King stirred.
It was not warmth. It was not softness. It was recognition.
The King saw Shicmuon’s body strain, fragile in a way he could never be, his breath shallow as if the King’s presence alone consumed the very air in his lungs. And yet, he was still there. He remained. Whether by choice or by inevitability, Shicmuon was his, and something in him—something deep and vast and ancient—tightened in response.
Mine. And mine alone.
*
You, who seemed to know me better than I know myself.
You, who kept pulling me back to you, despite all the warnings.
You—
Can I call you mine now?
*
“Shicmuon!” A voice called out to him. “Brat! Hey! Wake up now!”
Someone was pulling on his arm. Their voice was so persistent and obnoxious.
“Shic! You really don’t want the President to send a search party here, trust me!”
He twitched.
Being threatened with the potential of seeing his shitty Old Man smirking benevolently and smiling at him all-knowing.
What a shitty way to wake up.
He opened his eyes. It seemed to be morning, with sunlight peeking from the gaps among the dense trees.
“Fuck.” he said with feelings.
“Wear these for now.” Van said, offering what appeared to be old clothes. “We must hurry. The tracking beacon was already activated, and I really don’t want to know what’s going to happen if the President waited any longer!”
He really yapped too much.
Shicmuon still refused to move. His body ached all over. What happened? “The beacon would only activate after three days with no contact. What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Van shouted, exasperated. “It’s been five days since the last time I left you in the Black Magician's care! Where is he, anyway?”
Shicmuon blinked.
Five days?
He pulled himself up. A black long coat that had been covering him slid down with his movement. He stared at it. The coat looked like the one that had been worn by Blackie last time.
He was completely naked underneath. His body was clean, but littered with numerous small marks, as well as a particularly nasty one on his left shoulder.
Oh.
It was not a dream?
“Get dressed! We must make haste!”
As he did as instructed and put on the upper garment, Shicmuon felt a bit peculiar. Not weighed down and slow like he was under the cursed spell. But more like—
He had nothing left. Like his magic, his mana, his powers, his energy, his very *essence*—were sucked dry.
He tried to rise to put on his pants—
And stopped.
“...”
Van looked at him, a question mark on his face. “Shicmuon?”
“...I can’t get up.”
A pause.
The birds chirped up above.
The wind blew.
“...you know what? I don’t wanna know. Please don’t tell me anything, I beg you.” another pause, this time in curiosity. “Can you awaken?”
Right. Because the moment he awakened, his wounds would fade to nothing and he would regain his energy.
Except—
“I can’t.”
Of course it couldn’t be that easy.
Van sighed. “I’m about to help you, so please don’t hit me when I get close.” and he did just that.
Once Shicmuon was presentable, complete with his boots, Van took out a teleportation scroll and prepared his incantation.
“I smell like a wet dog.” Shicmuon said.
“Why you—!!” Van sighed, looking to the sky in despair. “I’m sorry I only have my old clothes in my secret stash in the village near here! You should be grateful I have spare clothes at all to give you, you ungrateful brat!”
Without further ado, Van put his hands under Shicmuon’s knees and back and carried him in his arms with *ease*.
Tch.
“Did you just click your tongue at me, young man?! How many times do I need to tell you that since the scroll is linked to our individual magic signature, I have to carry you to make sure you’d get teleported too since your magic is practically nonexistent right now?! And just touching my clothes wouldn’t be enough?!”
He really yapped too much, our pet dog.
“I’m very sleepy.” Shicmuon said. “Don’t wake me up.”
“Hey you brat—”
And he proceeded to lean his head against Van’s shoulder, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, letting Van bear his whole weight while the man cursed up a storm in the process.
Unaware of the shadowy being watching over him from the darkness of the deep forest.
Barely holding himself back.
Waiting for a chance to claim what was rightfully his.
.
.
fin.