This is my first crack at Magic: The Gathering fanfiction. This is a disturbing little idea I had awhile ago. I may or may not continue this.
Pairings: Tezzeret/Sarkhan Vol, past Zurgo Helmsmasher/Sarkhan.
Trigger Warnings: Non-con, past non-con, abuse.
I threw a few head-canons in, such as Zurgo and Sarkhan were lovers, and Tezzeret is able to use telepathy.
Sarkhan limped slowly into the current home base of Nicol Bolis. He wasn't eager to give his report about the situation on Zendikar. He didn't want the dragon to confirm his worst fears about the events there. As much as he didn't want to accept it, the Tarkirien knew the dragon had known all those events would happen; from him being lost in the network of hedrons and caves surrounding the eye of Ugin, to the other planeswalkers arriving and defeating him, to the monstrosities that had awakened following his fall.
"Well well, look what the cat dragged in. You look shitty as always Vol." the condescending voice made cold shivers run down his spine. When he had first started his service to Bolis, he hadn't thought the strange man with the metal arm to be much of a threat. He had learned the error of his ways quickly. Somedays, he wondered if Tezzeret was more of a maniac then the dragon.
"You must be looking into a mirror old man, now where's the dragon?" Sarkhan couldn't help the retort, he knew he would regret it later, but for now he was exhausted, in pain and starving. He had subsided off rats for the past year, with only a few stolen moments of sleep. He almost winced when Tezzeret's eyes turned cold, and the metal arm clenched threateningly.
"Do you think you're funny?" the mage growled.
"Why don't you go look for more tinfoil and leave me be?" Sarkhan responded.
"Don't you dare insult me you overgrown lizard. Or are you simply feeling inferior because Etherium is worth more than you will ever be!"
A deep, rumbling voice interrupted the conflict by commanding Sarkhan to attend Bolis. A dark shiver passed down the dragon man's spine as Tezzeret grinned in a decidedly ominous way. He gave a small wave to the other mage.
"You better go dog, your master is calling you." And with that, Tezzeret strode off towards his rooms.
Vol slowly approached the great golden dragon, kneeling respectfully. The dragon barely gave him a second glance, instead simply demanding "What happened at the eye of Ugin? And don't leave anything out Vol." the dragon spared him a glance, before returning his attention to the globe in front of him. Sarkhan quickly began to recount the events on Zendikar. How the year had been spent looking, with little success, how the pyromancer and the mind mage had showed up, how the pyromancer had used a strange spell that caused colorless fire, and how the darkness within the hedrons stirred, almost free after his defeat had been sealed. He watched the dragon's face closely for any sign of surprise, but the damn tyrant just looked pleased, as if he had known all of this would happen.
"Very good, everything has proceeded according to my calculations." The dragon stated, still not looking at Sarkhan. "Here, give this to Tezzeret. And once you do, clean yourself up. You smell like a necromancer's servant. Now get out of my way." With a flick of his claws, a scroll placed itself in Sarkhan's lap. The long haired man bowed and walked out, clutching the scroll, and looking rather lost.
The last thing in the world he wanted to do was search out Tezzeret and give the arrogant former Seeker a free shot at him. But Sarkhan didn't have the strength to try defying Nicol Bolis right now. It had been a long year, full of pain and darkness. It would be better for him if he delivered the paper now, and got through whatever sadistic plan Tezzeret had devised while Sarkhan had been away. All too soon, he had reached the metal mage's chambers. He knocked, embarrassed when it came out quite and timid.
Tezzeret was polishing his arm when a quite knock sounded on his door. He smiled predatorily, he didn't know what had caused the Tarkir mage to visit him, but he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He called out a bored "enter", and watched the door swing open, revealing the ragged man.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Sky Khan himself! Please, tell me why you have come to grace my humble chambers with your presence?" The sarcasm was dripping from his words like blood from a wound.
"Bolis wanted you to receive this scroll." Sarkhan decided not to add fuel to the already burning fire of Tezzeret's rage.
The blue mana user gestured vaguely to his desk, which was already piled high with scrolls, scraps of parchment and small, half assembled machines. "You can leave it there. I'll get around to reading it."
The dragon mage shuffled slowly towards the desk, keeping a wary eye on the other man. He dropped the scroll on the desk, and returned to the door. Before he had made it halfway back, Tezzeret struck. A cold metal hand wrapped around Sarkhan's throat, while a flesh hand smashed into his ribs with bruising force. He winced in pain as his head was dragged up to meet the metal mage's dark eyes, they were filled with slow burning rage. And for a moment, the former Mardu thought he saw lust.
"What, do you think I'd allow you go get away with making an idiot of me? That fight is going to cost you. I'm sure you know what's about to happen. Not that it's much of a punishment, after all, you always enjoy it so." Tezzeret almost whispered, mimicking the tone a lover would use.
Sarkhan felt bile rise in his throat as the silver haired man yanked him into a harsh kiss. There was nothing romantic, passionate or gentle in this kiss, it was a show of dominance and violence, nothing more. Sarkhan struggled against the other mages attempts to pin him against the wall. Normally he would remain silent, no matter what the metal armed mage did. He would stand stoically and take whatever the other dished out. But this was not a normal time, the mage had been alone, in the caverns of Zendikar for over a year, the only contact he had was the rats, and an occasional vampire trying to kill him. Every touch set his skin on fire, every bite seemed a hundred times harder and more painful
Try as he might, the dragon could do nothing to stop the other mage ripping his clothes from him. He screamed in pain as Tezzeret's metal fingers slammed into him dry. Even after all the times it had happened, the pain was still agonizing. He saw the other mage's grin widen, dark eyes full of lust. "You know, it's almost surprising how tight you are for such a slut." Tezzeret muttered. Within moments, he removed his fingers, and prepared to enter the other mage. Sarkhan tried not to tense, knowing it would be worse, but it still felt like being ripped in half when Tezzeret forced his way in.
It didn't take very long for the voices to start, they always did when this happened. The slimy voices rang through his mind like poisoned wine.
"You're not worthy of calling yourself Sarkhan"
"You're just a pathetic whore."
"Sky Khan? What a joke!"
"Imagine if Zurgo saw you now, he would probably join Tezzeret after what you did to him."
The tirade of abuse from his inner demons was interrupted by a cold presence suddenly whispering in his head.
"I hope you're not getting distracted, after all, we're about to have so much fun." This was accompanied by a thrust hard enough that it made blood leak out. Sarkhan felt his entire body turn cold. While Tezzeret had often assaulted the dragon, he had never used his telepathic abilities to invade the Tarkirians mind. Tezzeret smirked as he shifted through Sarkhan's mind, filing away some of the juicier things for later use against the dragon mage.
'Fuck, you really are nothing. No one misses you on Tarkir, you know that don't you?' Tezzeret's voice was dripping like poisoned honey, and Vol's desperate, violated mind absorbed every word like a sponge. 'You were a useless soldier, and you were even more useless as a lover. The only reason Zurgo kept you around was you're a good fuck. That's all anyone's going to use you for. It doesn't matter where you go. You'll always be just a slut, useless for anything but giving others pleasure. Gods, look at you. You're hard! Are you enjoying this Vol? Being used? Or are you just a whore for pain!" The metal armed man groaned as Sarkhan clenched around him, relishing in the other mages agony. He should have done this years ago, never before had the stubborn Tarkir mage shown such pain before. It was like a high that Tezzeret had thought only power could give.
Sarkhan screamed, shuddering with pleasure. This scream was not of pain though, it was the furthest thing from, and yet the closed thing to. Tezzeret was right, it had started to feel good, as it always inevitably did. The pain had dulled, and his rapid, sharp thrusts were striking that spot inside, the area that made Vol moan like a common alley whore. He had stopped fighting back at this point, and was now grinding himself against the older mage. Sarkhan was disgusted by his behavior, but there was no escape. Tezzeret had trapped both his body and his mind, and was ruthlessly ripping both to literal and figurative shreds.
Tezzeret felt himself approaching the edge, and with this knowledge in mind he shifted his grip on the former Mardu soldier and flipped them. Now, rather than having the Tarkir native pinned to a wall, he was laying atop him on the floor. This allowed him a better angle, and he continued his utter violation of Sarkhan. Within minutes of the shift, the metal mage felt the tell-tale sign of Vol finishing. With a deep groan, he marked the dragon as his once again.
"Did you enjoy that Vol? Because watching you break was delightful." The Esperian quickly withdrew, and left the broken dragon bleeding on the floor. He didn't both to get dressed, he simply walked to his desk and opened the scroll from Bolis.
"Please remove yourself from my chambers, you're getting blood on my floor." He said, before returning his attention to the scroll.
The dragon mage spent the next three hours trying to scub his mind and body clean of Tezzeret, but it was pointless, the metal mage's stench wouldn't dissipate, no matter how Sarkhan tried. It barely took thirty minutes after that for the voices to reappear, causing the formerly Mardu warrior to sink onto his bed and weep.
If you enjoyed leave a review, thanks for reading!