A Lyrical Torch Beast

\A MSLN Fanfiction\

by NightCracker Artie

Warning || This material contains sexual scenes involving two women, and is not to be read by audiences 18 years younger; or as per restricted by your country's laws. This material is not intended to raise funds, advertise unlawful acts and behaviours, or – through said – abase the original elements of the franchise Mahou Shoujou Lyrical Nanoha.

This is published in and thus follows the rules and abides with its terms of use. The author will hold no responsibility for third-party claims that violates the Fair Use Agreement as enclosed in this disclaimer.

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A Lyrical Torch Beast

by NCA

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…

I woke in the dead of the night. Naked and spent. But with a dull throb coming from inside – the internal body clock – that alarms me like a siren's call. That fire within me was far from extinguished. It's been burning for twenty-five years. That fire that began in a tiny spark when her eyes met mine. We were children, playing fire. Was it a curious element back then? I didn't know. But I vividly remember how I loved the fireworks whenever our paths collided. It wasn't curiosity for all I know. But even if it was otherwise, that was the fire where all of it begins. For ten more years, it's been tamed. For the following five, it started to suffocate me. Six years ago, it almost killed me.

Now I'm free to let it incinerate me.

I knew the feeling was mutual as far as I could tell from the rustle of the bed sheets, the stirring weight against my flesh, the ghost of a sigh that pierces my ears, and the low hum of her dire need that reverberates in the still air.

My eyes searched the darkness and found an even deeper shade of desire. She held me down with her gaze and with her hands around my wrists, and with that smile across her lips. I shivered like a cornered creature with her passion pinning me down, keeping me there, preying at my soul.

Twenty five years and I'm still as fresh an offering to her as I was back in the days.

Her eyes wandered, playing hide-and-seek with my most hidden shyness, eliciting tiny trembles when she licks her lips in luscious anticipation. She was quick to grow tired of it and instead started a game of tag. She dipped her head on my collar. My skin tingled for the mostly familiar caress. She was slow.

Hasn't she always been?

She was always lightning-fast at everything – work, friends, family – except for the talk of the heart. She could be the big idiot in the department. She's the worst case scenario for a love interest. My youth's frustration. She never returned any blatant passes. But all I could ever do – perhaps all I could ever do best – was keep on trying. That's how we grew close, after all.

I befriended her in the most uncommon way – a full-throttle battle with magic. It had been different with Hayate-chan or the others. That was saving them, or helping them, or fulfilling a duty, or returning the favor. Perhaps part of it was because I empathized with the desperation sheltered in her actions. But with her, I simply wanted answers beyond those empty eyes that somehow brimmed with loneliness, dedication and hope; and wanted to know why they felt warm instead of cold.

Only years later would I come to know that she carried the torch to me. This kind of torch that brought this kind of warmth.

But, gods, was she slow.

I thought the phase would finally lean to my purpose when we had to live in the same room back at Riot Force Six. But then, again, it was complicated and difficult because it was a workplace. And sure enough, it only became another wall tougher to break. When Vivio came shortly afterwards she thought of herself as a godmother. But it was because we were in the same working quarters that being Vivio's godmother was simply part of the job.

Even when I asked her to live with us – in the house she recommended to me upon her utmost examination (we're talking about a worrywart here) – she accepted it because she was my legal advisor in adopting Vivio. She thought it convenient.

She was slow.

She is beautifully and delectably slow, regardless. Even now, she is.

"You keep doing that...Fate-chan..."

She stuck well on my breasts and when she let go, she did with a fervent nibble, a resounding smack. The air swept past my damp and pert nubs, making them tighten further, it hurt. But no, she did not intend to end the game just yet. She journeyed downwards with that agonizing pace, with her soft and silky and singeing mouth, with kisses upon my ribs, my stomach, and then lower. Yes. There. She knows where I need her most. Lower. Almost. But she never willed to touch me there. Until I moaned in surrender. I felt her smile against my lower abdomen. Her games had just begun.

Now she wants a tug of war.

She propped herself over me, at a distance and just hovering. My body trembled in want for contact, like a magnet near its opposite pole. I would pull her against me and let all demons in me break. But she still had that iron grip around my wrists. For sure, there'll be marks come dawn. The thought only encouraged me to beg. When I did, she pressed her mouth against mine, and the play resumed.

I parted my lips for its mostly welcomed intruder. We molded, pushed and pulled in rhythm of our very own version of warming-up. Then she's had me tight and I'd fight back. When she'd use her teeth, I'd lose in a heartbeat. Losing to her was addictive. It's only at times like this when I didn't hate it, for surely, there's always a time to get back at her later.

I am never the type to simply give in without a comeback.

It had been six years since moonlight finally reached the pit of my hopes. Vivio was going to high school and the curtains are closing in on our best-friend–godmother charade. I was on my wits end. Of course, when I say that, I mean it.

I had told her that I love her far too many times to count. But she wouldn't commit herself in every 'me too,' response. Cases such as mine should have long been considered cold. But there's a perk in being an instructor. Patience: a steel hard resolve to instill the proper ways with the safest approach. Thanks to that I managed to keep my hands off of her each tormenting night in the same bed. But from time to time, in the most casual opportunities, my arm would stray on her sleeping form. At times when the pervert ping in my head chimes, I'd spoon her from behind and indulge in the pillow of her golden hair, or sometimes, I'd pull her arm by my waist and she'd wrap me in a comfortable embrace. Such rare times were heavenly. And I wouldn't mind if we continued that way forever.

Until Six-Years-Ago-Incident happened. The charade was a finally-over.

Three years of Commission under Administrative Order of the Ministry of Justice to Zeildig, a planet in the outskirt of the Dimension, where the current technology of Cross-Dimensional Communication can't reach. And three years was just preliminary enforcement. They said that her responsibilities as guardian of Erio and Caro and Vivio should no longer matter in effect. They're grown-ups now. More children like them needs her, they said.

What could I say to that? Nothing. Because I knew duty comes first for her as much as it does for me. But I lie if I say I didn't make it harder for her to decide.

I asked her only once, if she'd be my date for a Mag Ball. And I told her only once during the Ball night, that I wanted her to stay, that her presence in my life means so much — too much for me to bear three years without. I had forgotten the exact reasons I tried to placate her with, but I knew that I poured all of my feelings in all the words that spilled. I think it was a nostalgic event for I haven't been that way since I asked to be friends with her — that, minus the magic. But it is imaginable that I was nonetheless full-throttled.

And I thought it was enough to convince her.

I heard this from Amy-san once, long ago, but I never considered how she meant: 'I did not marry Chrono just because we're in love. It is part of it, but in this path of life we are given, there are things beyond the caliber of romance that dictates every direction of our decisions...'

I thought I had forgotten the words until the moment I saw the apology in her eyes.

'...I mean, you can find romance anywhere. What makes it enough?'

True to Amy-san's words, it wasn't enough.

Her answer had been certain and simple.

'That's impossible.'

I believed that I've been through a lot of pain before to surmount the rest to come. But I was wrong. It already hurt that I tried and failed. But there's a different sting coming from the fact that I am not capable of doing anything even if the opportunity – the same opportunity grabbed by Chrono-kun and Amy-san – was welcome.

We're both women, after all.

That was the second time I felt my time stuck for a tremendous and painful fall. Only this time, it wasn't because I'm dying outside in. I was wilting inside-out.

That night, I don't remember busting out of the halls or driving myself home. I just found myself on my bed, trying to weep myself to sleep. She'd find me later, wide awake and broken.

I half-expected her to ask questions why I ran, why this suddenly became a crying matter for me. I always gave that vibe, according to Yuuno-kun, that no sad moment could ever bring me down. I believed so too.

She, however, did no interrogation of sorts.

I was still in my white dress; she in her purple one. When she entered the dark room, I turned on my side to cower into an imaginary shell. I heard the satin rustle behind me as she mounted the bed. She used no words but gently caressed my bare shoulder, pulled me on my back, and I hid my tears with my free hand. She simply took it away with tender touches, baring me for her to see. With her fingers, she wiped my eyes dry. Countless of times she'd done that before, and never failed to bring me to comfort that only brought more tears.

'I'm sorry,' I said, lips were trembling, the voice not like mine.

She wore a thin smile and shook her head. 'There's nothing to be sorry for.'

'But I'm...making this hard for you.'

She put her palm against my cheek. I nuzzled there in comfort.

'It is hard. It always is for every mission I am sent to.' She said.

How was I supposed to accept that this person will be gone for three years, not knowing when she'll return, if she'll return? The thoughts I conjured had been foolish. But I couldn't help the overflow as time push us closer to the broken dam.

'But this isn't like the missions you've been. You'll be away for three years...to Zeildig, no less.' I argued with barely the voice to make the words clear.

'That's just three years.' She shrugged lightly and tilted her head in a matter-of-fact pose. 'What's it to beat the whole life we've had and we'll continue having? And it's not like you can't reach me there. Real-time just won't be possible.'

I sighed and held the hand on my cheek. 'You don't understand, Fate-chan.'

She held me with an endearing touch. 'I will send you video letters at a regular basis.'

'No! You...you don't understand.' I shook my head and suddenly, I felt furious. 'You never understand!' I bawled and turned my head away. But her hand kept me where my sight belonged — always.

'Yes, I do.' She replied, her voice had turned to a soft whisper. 'You're the one who fail to believe in me.'

'Eh?'

I attempted to inquire her meanings in her eyes. But I was robbed of the vision I expected to see as her eyes shut slowly. And what happened next made froze all questions. She bent low towards me. Her hair fell from her shoulders and pooled on the sides of my head, curtaining the sacred first moment that we shared.

She had kissed me.

I had forgotten when the shock melted into a soothing blanket in my mind, my fury broken into a fervent passion in my chest. But then I had wrapped my arms around her shoulders as her lips claimed me for the first time. She was soft like petals of the cherry blossoms, and smelled differently from how I had imagined or had smelt before. There's sweetness in her breath even as I tasted tears. There's spice in the way her sigh brushed mine. And she had me in a welcoming bitter burn when her lips had left, leaving me in a haze.

I blinked at her with a soft gasp and a slight tremble.

'Why are you so surprised?' She asked with a genuine look of confusion.

I held my breath as the knot in my throat seemed to have gone down to my stomach. 'I never thought you'd...' I trailed off.

'I told you, you keep thinking that I don't.' She rested her head on my shoulder and her arm rested on my hip. 'I've always wanted to...but I was afraid this day shall come. I kept fretting over the agony this might bring you and me.'

My arms tightened around her as I heard her softly sigh. 'Then why the hell did you kiss me now!' I cried.

Her lips soothed along my shoulder, my neck, then rested on my cheek where I felt a pleasant change in her expression – genuine and gentle, but coy.

'To give you a hard time forgetting for the next three years.'

I had never blushed so hard in my life when she whispered those words against my skin. 'That's the most selfish thing to say.'

'It may be. But I'll return, no matter, to pay for it.'

'Still...'

I burrowed my face to the camber of her neck and shoulder. I felt the loud beats of her pulse – warm and strong – and couldn't resist kissing it. It loudened and her breath deepened, my ear catching her shallow gasp.

I whispered, 'things could change in three years.'

She kissed my temple. 'I'm willing to find out those things when I come back.' She hesitantly paused, then came to look at me in the eyes. 'I'm ready for any change to come. Even if you... Even if...'

I silenced her with another soft kiss on the lips. I wasn't sure what she meant to say, but I felt like there was no need to let the sentence finish. I kissed her again. The sound of our lips parting echoed in the darkness. She kissed me back. And they began to create the steps to match the music in our silent breaths.

When we parted again, I burned, she sighed and I said, 'If you promise to return...Then I'll wait.'

She smiled and a cloud in her eyes somehow dissipated. I knew then that even from the depths of deepest hell, she'll come back to me with a smile.

It was a promise easier said than done.

But the struggle was worth the wait. I couldn't help but feel blessed to journey for three years without her. It was sometimes devastating when I simply realize how slow time flies by. But it also made something in me grow along with the beast of fire that can never be tamed. And it bore fruit of sheer enlightenment – or perhaps curse I welcomly embrace – that to lose her, is to lose myself.

Life without one another was simply incomplete. Life with her was imperfect. But when by her side, I knew that the future will surrender to no storm. And it made me realize that we've been wasting time dancing around our friendly shoes, in the theater of charades to make everything uncomplicated. I realized that in twenty five years, we've lost these genuine moments to share; much more so in those three years we were apart.

And now we continuously make up for it on the same bed where began the smothering of our vexations full-throttle for the second time around.

With the same sparks that keeps our passion torches alive.

Her hips descended between mine at last. My ears sung upon that contact where the wonderful proofs of our common feelings accumulate. Sleek and sloshy. The sounds turn sexier each time I hear it. I moved underneath her to feel her more. I deserve more of her. I want more of her, need more.

Curves molded with curves, smoothness to smoothness, softness to softness, roughness to roughness. Her body touched me like a match, striking me like flint, igniting everything in me like gas. The air was still redolent of our mingled body smokes from hours prior. It made the whole room burn faster, yet the fire keeps ablaze, fed by the leak between our legs, fanned by the rhythm of our hips. More. Oh, so close. I didn't want this to end. Luckily, she didn't either – at least not this way.

We broke for air and I filled my lungs with a gasp. So did she. But that only started a symphony of more as we danced on. Moans, groans, grunts filled the room, if not our whole house. I'm glad our daughter was in Dorm School. It would have been a hell in a Saturday come morning.

And we danced on. At times, we'd meet with a smack and that would bring us whole different treat. But whenever she hits me in the right angle that simply sucks air from within, I wished I could dig my nails in her back. The thought encouraged me more.

I called her in between my gasps, begged to let me hold her close. My voice had been unstable but she appreciated the reactions she elicits from me.

She did as I asked. And as promised, I drew my claim across her back. I was unforgiving. She hissed. And she tried to beat the sting with more pleasure. Her breasts pressed against mine. Her head fell in the curve of my neck. Her right hand hooked around my left leg, lifting it to access me harder and I trembled with the newest peak of her return. Oh. I'm so close. I could feel from her rhythm that she is as well. Then her lips covered my skin before I felt her teeth digging in. I clenched her hair and pulled her away rather harshly. That was unintended. I just felt too good that I feared I'd go first. I wanted us to fall together. I warned her by biting her lower lip and tugging it down. I let go and said, in a voice that trembled with that flame inside of me, "Fate-chan... I'm..."

She didn't let me finish and pulled me into her mouth. And the eager thrust we shared then became our undoing. Her head jerked back for a silent scream. We stilled for a heartbeat and together fell on a shattering quake of climaxes. She called my name out loud, passion breaking free from her eyes, her flushed skin, her deep gasps. And at the end of the syllable, she did with a sob.

Nothing – no one – can beat her beauty, coming so hard for me. And by the look she had on me, I know I'm just as passionate in her eyes.

With the hand still in her hair, I pressed her forehead on mine, our eyes pinned each other to exchange a message of our lifetime. We held each other in the torrent of our soulful communication. We filled those dams together and let them overflow. Our mouths were agape in wordless proclamation, eyes mirroring our undeniably loudest form of confessions – the finest proof of faith and glory we held for each other.

And nothing feels better, and nothing else gets better, than to settle on each other and declare in our strongest magic chants that are forged by space and time, that went through the test of many seasons,

"I love you."

When the tremors of our love subsided, our hearts never did. And for the rest of our days, these words and our perfervid actions will keep these dancing fires of the torch beast in me so, so alive.

…

~Ende || A Lyrical Torch Beast

Afterword

Enjoy. Tell me something wrong, right, weird, anything. Review.

[✓] 2nd Edition (December 11, 2015)