Lucy and Laxus Ship Week: Day Seven - Prey
{Late because of exam stress, like, a full four months after it was due. Lady Red apologises}
It had started out as a game, a small thing that had done as a sort of role play when the mood hit them. Something fun, something private. Something many couples did. Lucy would crawl onto his lap, laughing as she tightened her whip around his neck, biting into the flesh and kissing the wound until the blood clotted and her teeth were pink. The game had started when Laxus had claimed Lucy as his mate, yellow shimmering scales engraved into her neck and lightning as much a part of her soul as it was his body. It had been a game before the plague descended, and just that. A game. Before the monster clouded her mind and poisoned her blood thick with molasses of decay. Now, in their little huts of drying leave and twisted grass hung high in the corpses of trees, it was no longer a game though they followed the ritual. Laxus would return from his hunt; body slick with sweat and dirt, clothes a little more torn than they had been before he had left, and here he would find her. The small of her back pressed into the corner, the coppiced ash irritating her skin, blonde head curled tight over bent legs and twisted feet with her arms forcing her forehead to her kneecaps as her breath wheezed past her lips. From hunger, or from some inability to breathe Laxus never asked his wife.
The creature would look up at him, its eyes a garish mockery of her mahogany brown as they flickered amber in the shadows of their treetop home. That Tarzan haven, she had joked when it had been built, their happiness a forgotten cry in the high Summer and bitter Winter, "Laxus," it would shudder, the scarred dry lips bending into a smile, relieved and unnerving as the creature in Lucy would unwind from where it's Master had tried to suppress it. Lucy never could deny just how much she wanted it, not as much as the creature did, but still his wife never learnt to suppress her wants, "Darling," it would purr, uncoiling his wife's whip from her side, palms open to him as it would slink forth, limping from how the Master had sat the body, "I am so awfully thirsty," The creature, Judas is what Bickslow had called it once in a joke before Judas had killed him. Judas would allow Laxus to kneel before her, running her finger down his cheek, his stubble, before tightening the leather about his throat, suffocating Laxus before kneeling before her prey. Judas would often lick at his neck, softening the skin while running her fingers down his side and muttering prayers, "Thank you, Sire, for fathering this boy to stand in your stead," Judas always waited until Laxus was unable to breathe before she would breach his skin, a sort of odd mercy that she practiced so that her host would not suffer too much agony, "Thank you, Sire, for allowing me to sully your blood," Laxus never fell unconscious from Judas' tricks, never allowed himself that as it would mean he was at Judas' complete mercy, "Thank you, Sire, for my humble meal."
No sound was ever muttered when Judas breached his artery, the blood flowing in a mess down into his crusted clothes, smelling of mould and rust. Laxus had always been able to tell when Judas relinquished his hold, for his wife would clutch at him, her body tensing and the hold of the rope would loosen as Judas retreated with her hunger. Lucy would remove herself from his presence whenever she was done, whenever he would raise his arms in an attempt to embrace his shivering wife. To comfort her as he had once been able to. Laxus would allow Lucy some time in her own company, alone in the thicket below to lament her Sire. And all he had done to her.
Ivan had done it, of course, as a way to spite his son. The Master of the fallen Raven Tail Guild had aided Zeref's supporters in 'cleansing' the world of those unworthy of the Dark Master's plots. In Zeref's view of the world, and it's games. It was then that Ivan had learnt of the Heartphilia's, of their surprisingly lively role in Zeref's life. Of how intertwined the light of Fairy Tail was with the Darkest Mage to walk Earthland, of how the girl had known it and supported her ancestors and even played her role in Zeref's plan correctly. Raising E.N.D. from a careless boy to a callous murderer. Like the Heartphilia's of old had promised, as Lucy had when her mother first showed her the breathing carcass of Natsu Dragneel when the Gate had been opened after 400 years of silence. Part of the plot, Ivan decided, was that they would release a virus - a disease - into the populaces of the world, dropping them all like flies until only those of Zeref's followers survived. It was then, on a terrible night as though strung from a phantom story, that Ivan had attacked them in their sleep. The man had forced Laxus' surrender by dropping Lucy to her knees before him, and had slit the girl's throat from one side to the other, his slice passing through his mating mark.
Ivan had taken his time, savouring the girl's screams and her struggle. Ivan had administered the largest dose of disease into Lucy, feeding her off of his own blood and then passing into the night. Lucy could only drink Ivan's blood, of those of Ivan's descendants. That is how Lucy had woken from Judas the first time, her teeth in Laxus' throat and his blood staining their good kitchen floor.
But as always, as prey of Stockholm often would, Laxus would struggle down the ropes to the forest floor and would gather his wife into his arms, muttering into her ear as she cried against his body. Glossy eyes spilling tears onto his thin, and muscle-worn arms - strength long departed them, flesh sparse on their lithe and hungry bodies. "Prey on me whenever you need." Laxus would reassure Lucy, rocking her back and forth as they would watch the sun leave the auburn sky without the promise of return, "I'm here, my love," Laxus would leave a kiss on Lucy's forehead, taking his time in reminding her that Judas was a part of her that he undeniably loved, that he would never hate her for what his father did, "I'll never leave."
Laxus would never say it, and neither would Lucy. It was a truth they both knew, that he could never leave. That the mating mark would prevent him from leaving her, that he had no choice but to stay. But Laxus knew that Lucy needed him, far more than he needed to live. And God, he'd let her prey on him whenever she needed it. Anything for his Lady-love.
"We'll have to leave," Lucy would cry, voice hoarse and nose clogged, "We cannot stay." His blood would fill the air, her thirst noticeable to even the most mildly infected.
"We will make a home wherever we go." Laxus would laugh, his Magic boiling in his stomach as they moved into the stars. To land in some unknown desert land.