Childhood Magic
Title: Childhood Magic
Fandom: Original [Unnamed]
Rating: PG-13 (Swearing, vague sex)
Prompt: Well fucked
Disclaimer: I own everything~
Summary: That sudden rush of everything when you were living and breathing again.
AN: Vidkt is one of my main characters and this is the universe for my novel_bigbang this year! :D I hope it seems vaguely interesting to you, because they'll be around for a while :p
It was strange. Fucking someone who'd been dead not half an hour before was definitely strange. Vidkt liked to blame it on the fact that dragging someone back from the River was enough to forge a bond. That sudden rush of everything when you were living and breathing again made it just...happen.
Truthfully, people he'd dragged back from death were the only people willing to fuck a necromancer.
Vidkt groaned as he flopped back onto the pallet, arching his back in a long stretch. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. People who hadn't been laid in years because they were too busy languishing in a river of souls tended to be so rough and desperate that the sex was perfection.
"Who killed you?" He asked, rolling onto his side to face the man sitting on the edge of the pallet. "What's your name, for that matter?"
"Rhiliel," The man replied, scratching at his thighs. "You're not very good at bedroom talk." Vidkt shrugged at that, moving towards the man in a smooth stretch. His medallion rocked against his chest, the cold metal still sending chills and shudders through his body.
"I'm a necromancer," He pointed out, running his fingers over a deep wound in Rhiliel's back. "I can't fix that, by the way. I could let you bleed out if I wanted, but I can't fix that."
"What's keeping me from bleeding out?" He shuddered as Vidkt ran his fingers across the wound, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder to inspect it for himself.
"Magic. Easy magic. Childhood magic." Vidkt clicked his thumb and index finger together. A small, golden ball of light appeared above it, bouncing and shimmering in the dim light. "Like that." Rhiliel seemed impressed. His eyes were wide as he watched the dancing light. A country boy, then. Childhood magic wasn't enough to impress rich folks. They'd seen the shows the fuckin' oracles put on. A silly little light was insignificant and pointless.
He clicked his fingers again and the light disappeared. Rhiliel's hand reached for his, their hands wrapping around each other.
"You're cold." Cold wasn't the right word for it. He was faintly metallic, tinged with a scent, a feel, a taste of something like coins, but something far more dangerous. If Rhiliel had reached down for his medallion, that would have felt the same.
"Going to the River as often as I do has...repercussions." His fingers pulled away to trace scars on his arms. They resembled burns in the way they'd stretched and warped the skin. They were the marks of a necromancer, the marks of anyone who got their hands dirty and plunged their arms into the River to pull out a murae. "Death has claimed me."
"Does that mean you're dying?" Rhiliel's brow was creased in confusion. Vidkt preferred to talk to people when they were like this. Slightly dazed. Incredibly grateful. Well fucked, or high on life. They didn't turn their head in disgust, or call him evil.
"Quite the opposite." Vidkt grinned and pushed himself off the pallet, reaching for his trousers as he did so. "Come, your wife is probably waiting for you."
Fandom: Original [Unnamed]
Rating: PG-13 (Swearing, vague sex)
Prompt: Well fucked
Disclaimer: I own everything~
Summary: That sudden rush of everything when you were living and breathing again.
AN: Vidkt is one of my main characters and this is the universe for my novel_bigbang this year! :D I hope it seems vaguely interesting to you, because they'll be around for a while :p
It was strange. Fucking someone who'd been dead not half an hour before was definitely strange. Vidkt liked to blame it on the fact that dragging someone back from the River was enough to forge a bond. That sudden rush of everything when you were living and breathing again made it just...happen.
Truthfully, people he'd dragged back from death were the only people willing to fuck a necromancer.
Vidkt groaned as he flopped back onto the pallet, arching his back in a long stretch. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. People who hadn't been laid in years because they were too busy languishing in a river of souls tended to be so rough and desperate that the sex was perfection.
"Who killed you?" He asked, rolling onto his side to face the man sitting on the edge of the pallet. "What's your name, for that matter?"
"Rhiliel," The man replied, scratching at his thighs. "You're not very good at bedroom talk." Vidkt shrugged at that, moving towards the man in a smooth stretch. His medallion rocked against his chest, the cold metal still sending chills and shudders through his body.
"I'm a necromancer," He pointed out, running his fingers over a deep wound in Rhiliel's back. "I can't fix that, by the way. I could let you bleed out if I wanted, but I can't fix that."
"What's keeping me from bleeding out?" He shuddered as Vidkt ran his fingers across the wound, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder to inspect it for himself.
"Magic. Easy magic. Childhood magic." Vidkt clicked his thumb and index finger together. A small, golden ball of light appeared above it, bouncing and shimmering in the dim light. "Like that." Rhiliel seemed impressed. His eyes were wide as he watched the dancing light. A country boy, then. Childhood magic wasn't enough to impress rich folks. They'd seen the shows the fuckin' oracles put on. A silly little light was insignificant and pointless.
He clicked his fingers again and the light disappeared. Rhiliel's hand reached for his, their hands wrapping around each other.
"You're cold." Cold wasn't the right word for it. He was faintly metallic, tinged with a scent, a feel, a taste of something like coins, but something far more dangerous. If Rhiliel had reached down for his medallion, that would have felt the same.
"Going to the River as often as I do has...repercussions." His fingers pulled away to trace scars on his arms. They resembled burns in the way they'd stretched and warped the skin. They were the marks of a necromancer, the marks of anyone who got their hands dirty and plunged their arms into the River to pull out a murae. "Death has claimed me."
"Does that mean you're dying?" Rhiliel's brow was creased in confusion. Vidkt preferred to talk to people when they were like this. Slightly dazed. Incredibly grateful. Well fucked, or high on life. They didn't turn their head in disgust, or call him evil.
"Quite the opposite." Vidkt grinned and pushed himself off the pallet, reaching for his trousers as he did so. "Come, your wife is probably waiting for you."