warning: this fic is not for the faint-hearted. if you're bothered by depictions of blood and gore, by character discussing murder or anything else mentioned in the tags above, please, do not read
now that's out of the way: d a m n
i wrote this for a couple of hours on the 29th, and edited it while listening to youtube and chatting randomly. writing this was just so darn much fun! my country doesn't celebrate halloween, but knowing all my friends in the us were so excited about it drove me to write this little thing.
i get bonus brownie points for not including a sex scene in it and you have no idea how proud that makes me feel.
i know the story is extremely vague in its details and i promise: it was on purpose. i would love to share more of this story's universe with you, though, and if there's enough interest, i will add a second chapter from gajeel's pov
The first time they met, she'd caught him tearing through the corpse of a sheep in the outskirts of the village, blood dripping from his monstrous mouth and covering his clawed hands.
So, naturally, Levy had dropped all she was holding, screamed and ran away.
Or at least tried to run away, for the monster was times and times faster than her small, mortal body and chased her, cornering her into a patch of tightly grown trees until she had nowhere further to go. It had watched her from the shadows, the twin red suns it had for eyes glowing in the darkness, blood dripping from its wet maw.
"You won't speak" the monster had hissed out, sounding more beast than man. "You won't tell anyone about me. And I won't kill you."
Levy had nodded so rapidly she'd thought her head would fall off, eyes glued to the monster yet unable to meet its face. It had lifted its arm and gestured towards the village in silent sign — she'd taken off without a single word, running into her little house and slamming the door shut with enough force for one jar to fall over and shatter, scattering glass shards and small leaves all over the floor.
She'd adamantly refused to come out of the house for the next two days, only braving the outside when someone had called her over for help.
The second time they met, it was by the village spring, under the soft sunlight of late summer afternoon and the canopy of lush green leaves.
"Hello" the monster had greeted, stepping out of the shadows as if its been hiding there for hours.
Levy had, naturally, screamed (again), dropped the basket with her laundry and scooted towards the closest large tree in a desperate (and mildly pathetic) attempt to shield herself.
"I won't hurt you, relax" the monster rasped, holding out its clawed hands to show her it wasn't armed. The dried blood gathered until its talons only served to make her curl up tighter. "This ain't really working out, huh..."
If Levy hadn't been too busy trying to not combust from utter horror, she could have taken into notice more of the monster's appearance. (Something she had eventually done, hours later, and proceed to shame herself for doing.) It was tall and large, with broad shoulders and strong arms, muscled like a bull and probably just as strong. Its long, dark hair was hastily tied at the back of its neck in a loose, messy ponytail — even matted, dirty and filthy, the sun still made it shine. Its skin had the color of dull copper, with splotchy dark patches of scales growing in the most random places. Lines of black ink decorated every inch of its body.
Its face — if one looked past the barely noticeable traces of blood on its chin and nose — was beautiful, if in a wild, untamed way. A slightly hooked nose that seemed as if had been broken at least once, high cheekbones, a sharp jawline and a pair of dark, hooded eyes with their glowing crimson light. Truly beautiful — in a wild, terrifying sort of way.
(Of course, Levy didn't notice that back then, but later she had hours upon hours to hit herself upside the head for even thinking the monster beautiful.)
"I won't kill you" the monster had called, a little louder this time, when it seemed she had no intention of moving.
"You… don't-t…?" she'd asked, voice catching on the last letter.
The monster nodded, lowering its clawed paws to its sides. Levy promptly slumped down against the tree, cradling her hands to her chest. She dared not look away, but keeping her eyes on its hulking shape was oddly difficult — every time she blinked, the lines of ink upon its body seemed to change, creating new figures and patterns. It made her head hurt.
"What is your name?" the monster asked after a while. It had slowly stepped closer, making Levy squirm and tremble, until it at last settled into a crouch just a couple of feet from her. Its dark eyes glowed in soft shadows — two crimson lights, brighter than the setting sun. "I won't tell."
"Levy" she'd whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder. Her fingers clutched the silver chain around her wrist — one of the few things she had left from her mother. A small, weak smile grew on her face. "Levy" she'd repeated, this time a bit louder, firmer.
"Levy" the beast mimicked her and licked its lips, its long, forked tongue flickering in the air between them. "We're gonna see each other more often, little Levy."
Before she'd had the chance to speak, the monster melted into thin air, a single black marble dropping on the blackened grass it had stood in.
(Levy had taken the black marble and hidden it into the pockets of her skirt, before carrying it home after she was done with her laundry and wrapping it into viburnum leaves.)
"Hello, little blue."
Startled, Levy dropped the bags with herbs she was holding and swiftly turned around, only to find herself colliding with something warm and firm. A hand snaked around her waist and prevented her from falling on the muddy ground, fingers digging into her hip.
"You seem to often drop things around me" the oddly familiar voice mused, then released her from its firm hold.
She opened her mouth to apologize for her clumsiness and thank the stranger for their help, but snapped it shut when she recognized them.
"Hello" the monster greeted again, the corner of its wicked mouth lifted in amusement.
(There was a bit of blood smeared over its cheek. She wisely chose to ignore it.)
"Hello" she echoed, then knelt down to collect her bag.
The monster — the demon, as she'd found in her mother's old grimoire — crouched down next to her and helped her, its clawed fingers brushing hers as it handed her one of the small fabric bags. Its crimson eyes met hers and Levy found it took her great strength to look away. A throbbing pain settled at the back of her head immediately and she squeezed her eyes shut, biting back the instinct to rub her temples.
"Thank you" she uttered, gripping the bag with shaking fingers. She kept her eyes averted, staring at everything — its hands, its scarred arms — but its face. "For. For helping me."
The monster hummed in answer, then reached towards her and gripped her chin firmly with its clawed hand.
"I heard it's considered polite among your kind to look at one's face when speaking, little blue" the beast rasped, amusement dancing in its blood red eyes.
"Looking at your face hurts my head" Levy spat back, narrowing her eyes. "Let me go."
The monster tilted its head, then leaned forward — not close enough to touch her, but close enough for her hair to brush its face. It took a deep breath, stepping closer and tightening its grip on her. A smile — a wicked, content smile, all fangs and flash — pulled at its mouth.
"You smell delicious, little blue" it crooned out, voice softer than she'd heard it before. It opened its eyes and looked at her. Then, it smiled again. It was a softer, gentler smile, the kind of smile one would only give to someone special for them. Its thumb caressed her cheek, smearing blood over her skin. "You smell like power."
Be mine and I will give you anything, the monster had promised, mouth pressed to her ear. Be mine and I will put the world in your dainty little feet.
Levy glared at her reflection and stomped away, her blood boiling at the memory of his poisoned words. The floor cracked under her heavy steps.
(When had the monster become he to her? She couldn't remember. She wasn't sure she wanted to remember.)
She'd understood little of what he said and cared even less, but his words chased her every waking moment. When she slept, he haunted her dreams — his crimson eyes, his wicked smile, the blood dripping down his chin as he feasted on his next victim. Drip, drip, drip.
Someone from the village had disappeared since the last time they met. A man, year or two older than her, had gone into the forest for firewood and never came back. Levy didn't know his name nor cared for it, but she knew the way people looked at her. She was the daughter of a rumored witch, after all. She often visited the forest. She was an easy scapegoat for a grieving family to blame.
If the murder was a threat or a warning, Levy knew not.
She stared at the bag she'd packed and unpacked a nearly dozen times now, clothes and wrapped up food strewn all over her small dining table. Mother's grimoire stood open, the pages of its "Dealing with demons" chapter decorated with many small notes, addictions and questions.
Levy ran her fingers over the pentagram drawn onto the worn paper, a heavy sigh slipping from her lips. There was no real choice, was there? If she were to stay, there would surely be more than another victim, (and another, and another,) whether it was to force her into compliance or to keep the monster alive. And if people kept dying…
She steeled herself and slammed her hands down on the table, promptly knocking over the old grimoire.
"I'm going mad" she muttered to herself. When she turned around, she saw her distorted reflection in the cracked mirror — her eyes looked crazed, her hair had fizzled out from constantly running her fingers through it, her dark skin seemed to glow with an unnatural light. "Surely going mad," she told her reflection.
Her bag still sat innocently on the table, half-opened, rolled-up clothes spilling from it.
With a curse on her lips, Levy walked over and started shoving all her belongings inside.
"I knew you'd give in."
He'd been waiting for her at the very same place they'd first met in — past the fork just outside the village, where the trees grew tightly and roots were so tangled it was easier to climb over to the treetops than trying to walk through.
(Levy knew that well. She'd done it multiple times when she was a child, giving her poor parents a heart attack every time she'd tried.)
"It's not like you gave me a choice" she whispered, her hands tucked into her sleeves in a poor attempt to not freeze to death.
(In perspective, she ought to have acquired warmer clothes before leaving the village to go on an adventure with a monster that came straight out of her nightmares, but then again, Levy had never been good at putting herself in perspective. Or had, you know, common sense. Or the money to buy them. Then again, stealing was always an option.)
The demon let out a short, bark-like laugh and sauntered over to her. His eyes glowed in the dark, like two red stars. If looking at them was hard, looking away from them was even harder. Levy could feel a headache growing at the back of her head. And he hadn't started talking yet.
"There's always a choice, little jewel" he teased, then reached one clawed hand and cupped her cheek in an almost fond gesture. The sharp contrast between its warm palm and cold claws made the soft hairs on her arms stand on edge. "Now, don't give me that look. It's not like I threatened you into coming to me."
"You kind of did" Levy mused out loud. She had to get used to having her personal space utterly disrespected and invaded. "Isn't eating my people a sort of threat?"
"I was hungry" the monster amended, sounding almost sheepish.
Levy tilted her head and simply stared, unimpressed. The monster let out another bark-like laugh and leaned closer to her, bending down enough for his face to be on the same level as hers. His warm breath waffled over her, caressing her cold skin. Something danced in the crimson depths of his eyes, amusement drawn all over his horrifyingly beautiful face.
"I see you aren't scared of me anymore."
"I'm still getting over it" Levy admitted, trying to pull herself back and only succeeding in the opposite. One powerful arm wrapped around her waist, pulling them closer until her chest pressed to his. His fingers bunched into the back of her skirt. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice growing higher in pitch.
"Hush now, jewel." The monster brushed his nose against her cheek in an almost fond manner, then buried its face into the crook of her neck. "Hmm… Hells, you drive me crazy."
His warm breath caused goosebumps to prickle her skin, shivers running down her spine. Levy held frozen in place as the monster breathed in her scent, soft whispers slipping from his cruel, wicked mouth. His lips ghosted over the junction of her neck and shoulder, close enough to make her whimper.
"You smell like my dream come true" he breathed. "You smell like power, like control."
The monster lifted his head eventually, his smile subdued but his eyes burning — a steady flame that drew her in as if she was a moth, that suffocated her and breathed life into her all the same. His hand gently caressed her cheek and she leaned it, dizzy and shaking.
"You're most cruel with me" Levy whispered. "Stop… stop doing it. Stop doing this."
"Cruel?" He lifted her chin and drew her closer, closer, until there was a breath of space between them. "Not to you, little jewel. Never to you. You're too precious."
Precious. No one had called her precious. No one had clutched as if she would flee every second. No one had looked at her with such warmth, no one had looked at her as if their life depended on her.
"What does that mean?" she asked, raising her voice. "Why am I precious? Why— "
"Ever been kissed, jewel?" the monster interrupted her, a lazy smirk pulling his mouth.
Levy snapped her mouth shut and gawked at him, heat rising to her face. She couldn't bear meeting his eyes and stubbornly looked away as the monster laughed, his chuckles echoing in her mind. At last, she gave a small nod.
"Mhmm. I see. Care to show me?" he asked, dragging his thumb over her lips.
If she could grow more flustered, she probably would. Alas, Levy had reached the limits of her shame (and sanity). A sputter of sounds fell from her mouth in what she could only suppose was an agreement.
Then she stood on her toes and pressed a shy kiss to his lips.
The monster let out a content sigh, not pushing against her and visibly enjoying himself in her inexperienced kiss. Then the hold of his hand on her cheek shifted as he tilted her head and pressed his mouth to hers. A soft gasp slipped from her lips when his forked tongue ran over them. His mouth tasted like fire and decay and destruction, like gasoline and blood.
Levy panted when he finally released her from his magnetic hold, digging her nails into his shoulders and clinging to him as if he was her lifeline. His arms cradled her body, holding her up with surprising tenderness for a monster.
"Is this..." She hesitated for a second, then lifted her head and met his eyes. They burned. Burned her soul, burned her heart, burned her very core. "Is this what power tastes like?"
"Only a glimpse of it" the monster promised, his voice low and soft, as if sharing a secret. "Wanna have another?"
Instead of answering, she cupped his face with shaking hands and kissed him, his laughter still ringing in her mind.
Blood was awfully hard to wash away once dry.
"You did amazing" Gajeel whispered, fingers running up and down her arm in an attempt of comfort. "Better than I did on my first try. I'm so proud of you."
Levy had nothing to answer him with, her tongue as if stuck to the back of her mouth. She did not lift her head to meet his face — she had a hard time looking at anything, be it her reflection in the water or the moonlit clearing around them or his terrific beauty, so she focused even harden on scrubbing the red from her hands.
Her demon let out a sigh and cupped her hands with his unusual tenderness, then showed her how to clean the dried blood properly. His hands were so much bigger than hers — scarred, calloused and warm. Hands that snapped necks as if they were sticks, hands that bathed in blood every day, hands that tore flesh apart.
Bile rose up her throat. Levy shoved him and turned away from, bending down over the rushing water. And soon she was vomiting. She coughed and choked on her breath, hot tears running down her face. Spit and puke dribbled down her chin. Her chest heaved, hurting from her desperate attempts to breathe. Somewhere, as if far away, she could register warm hands brushing the wet hair from her face and gently rubbing her back.
In the river, her reflection stared back at her with hollow eyes, blood smeared over her cheeks and spit running down her chin, dark skin ghostly gray in the moonlight, her hair matted with red and dull. Levy shook her head angrily and splashed water at her face, breaking the perfect reflection. She kept doing it, again and again, water clogging her nose. For a moment, she considered throwing herself into the river — and then two firm hands gripped her shoulders and shook her.
"Stop that" Gajeel snapped. Did he care? Did it even matter? Why would he care? "Levy. Look at me. Hey. Look at me."
"She was screaming" Levy whispered, her voice small and shaky. She heard it with every beat of her heart, saw it every time she closed her eyes. It had imprinted itself in her eyelids, in the very rhythm of her heart. "Why did she scream?"
"Humans scream when they die" he explained, his voice softer. His hands cupped her face, calloused thumbs wiping away her flowing tears. "Stop this. You did what you had to."
Even though it was gone now, Levy still saw the blood dripping from her fingers, the blood smeared over her face when it had poured out of the corpse and hit her. So much blood. She'd seen Gajeel feed before, of course — it was kind of required, with their bond — but never… never so much… Never on her, never weighing her down like this.
Her first kill.
Perhaps sensing she had another mad idea coming, Gajeel wrapped his arms around her and kissed her firmly. It was less tenderness and more harsh desperation, biting lips and clashing teeth, but she melted into it all the same, more tears running down her face as she clung to him. His warmth was her safe haven in the cruelty of the world around her.
"I killed her" she whispered against his lips. He tasted of blood and decay. He always did. "I killed her."
"You did, jewel" Gajeel assured her, running his claw-tipped fingers through her curls. His touch was warm, comforting. "And you did amazing. Can't be more proud of you."
Levy rocked herself back and forth, urging his heat to seep through her flesh and chase away the cold, and the despair that clouded her heart along with it. She'd done her first kill — and she was a wreck. Would it be the same every time?
"I'm going insane" she said, shaking her head to herself. "How— How am I even going to do this? I'm useless, I'm— "
Gajeel only tightened his grip on her and pressed his mouth to her temple, a low hum radiating from his chest. His unyielding warmth and gentle caress was the only salvation she had. It took her a moment to realize was shaking, too.
"You're the best I could have ever asked for" he whispered, his voice choking up with emotion. It terrified her more than his bloody smirk and bloody eyes had ever done. Gajeel was supposed to be the strong, confident one. "Never useless. Wouldn't replace you for the world. Insane maybe, but never useless. My jewel. My only hope. My witch."
The soft hum continued, filling her with a sense of comfort and home. Soon it managed to lull her into a dreamless sleep and she didn't notice the fat, hot tears soaking her hair.
The doe whimpered and pawed at the ground.
"Shh" Levy tried to calm it, running her fingers over the white spot between its eyes. "Shhh… It's all going to end soon, I promise. It's not going to hurt. You're going to join your mate very soon..."
The doe reared back, but the vines around it only tightened, digging into its pristine coat.
Levy winced, but dared not loosen the tight hold she'd fought for hours to have. It had been hard enough chasing down the pair and separating them. She could not fail at the last step. Gajeel was somewhere in the forest, not far from their spot, having probably already finished with the stag. She could not fail. She would not fail.
The doe tried to kick her, but the vines held it firmly. Levy knelt down and gently ran her hand the animal's flank, whispering sweet nothings in a desperate attempt to calm her down. Her fingers sunk in the already dampened fur. Then, she saw it.
"She's… pregnant..."
'Of course she is,' her mate's voice rang in her head, always cheerful after a successful hunt. 'Didn't you notice before?'
"No!" Levy tugged on her hair. Her emotional response only had the vines going tighter, tighter, until the animal wailed in pain and kicked its forelegs into the air. "I can't kill a pregnant animal! That goes against every rule of natu— "
'Of course you can, jewel.' She could hear the fond smile in his voice — the kind of smile he always gave her. 'You're my smart little witch. You can do everything.'
"Gajeel. She's pregnant!"
'That will make the ritual go even smoother. A life for a life.'
He doesn't understand. The doe stared at her with sad brown eyes. He won't understand, even if I explain. Mercy isn't a thing for his kind. Sweat had dampened its soft fur. I'm doing this for us. For me. It seemed tired and resigned to its fate, head lowered.
'And remember. We need the heart intact.'
"I know." Levy stroked the doe's head gently. "I know. I know. The heart. I will get the heart. I will— "
'You can do it.'
The heart. They needed the heart. She couldn't allow herself to have a panic attack in the middle of the most crucial moment of her life. Her panic attack would have to wait until later, until all was said and done and there was no fleeting time to worry about. Then, she could scream and yell until her throat gave out, could cry until her eyes dried out, could hit and kick and smash until her hands and feet turned into a bloody mess. Now, she had to be strong.
You can do it echoed in her mind again.
"You fought with honor" Levy whispered, caressing the animal's head with tenderness. "And you were so brave. I can only hope you can share your courage with me. I will need it."
Then, she tightened her hands into fists and snapped.
Levy was bloody and sticky when she finished the heart, the last bite disappearing down her throat. Blood and gore dripped from her lips and down her chin, soaking into the crisp fabric of her dress. She lifted one shaking hand and wiped her mouth with the back of her palm.
Gajeel watched her from the other side of the fire, the stag's pelt resting easily on top of his head. The flames played with his shape, softening some edges but sharpening others. In the dark of the night, it was hard to remember the antlers were no part of him. In the dark of the night, it was hard to remember he was real and not simply a fruit of her growing madness.
Levy coughed, her throat parched and scratchy from all of the blood, but fortunately, none of it came back up. It would have ruined the ritual — and they couldn't have that.
The doe's pelt rested easily against her shoulders, the animal's courage becoming her own as its blood flowed in her veins.
"I'm ready" she announced to her mate when she gathered her bearings.
Gajeel stood up slowly, his shadow trembling in the firelight. It was hard to look at him — moving like an apparition, like a phantom— but Levy dared not avert her eyes, lest he disappear before her.
At last, he knelt in front of her, his great hulking shape almost obscuring the fire, and lifted a cup to her lips. Inside the cup, the potion sloshed back and forth, shining under the moon's caress like a pool of liquid gold.
Her mate's eyes twinkled playfully, their red light that had once terrified her now calming her, calling her home.
"The last stretch" he whispered. "You can do it."
Levy nodded, then tipped her head back and drank.
At first, it was thick and syrupy, almost like blood. The taste reminded her of ash, of bile, of gasoline. The taste of murder, her mind remarked. It burned down her throat like fire and made her cough, tears filling her eyes. But she persisted and dug her fingers into the cup, shouldering past the scorching pain. And then it disappeared, as swiftly as it had come. The potion filled her chest, sweet and warm like honeyed milk. It tasted like mama's favorite tea, like the flowers in her papa's garden, like the herbs Gajeel used to wash his hair with. It tasted like life and death and destruction and creation and fire and ruin and—
And then it was gone. The cup slipped from her fingers and fell down between her legs, empty to the very last drop.
Levy opened her eyes slowly, not remembering when she'd closed them. Colors danced in her vision. She couldn't focus.
"How do you feel?" Gajeel asked her, reaching forward and wiping something from her chin.
"Warm." Levy looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers. Under her very eyes, golden lines began spreading over her palms, drawing spirals and swirls onto her brown skin. "Shining. Powerful."
A small laugh spilled from her mouth. The golden lines danced up her arms, leaving a tickling sensation behind. It worked. It worked! It worked!
Gajeel watched her, something she could not recognize written over his face. Fear? Awe? Then — then he smiled, the kind of smile she only saw in his rarest, most vulnerable moments, and then he was pulling her in his arms and pressing kiss after kiss against her face, her neck, her shoulders, her hands as she giggled.
"It worked" he whispered, cradling her head, fingers running through her curls.
"I'm yours" Levy said with a small laugh, leaning into his touch. He was warm, so warm. Tears trickled down her face. "All yours."
"You've been mine since you smiled at me that time by the river" he teased, then pressed a fond kiss to her brow. "And you know what?"
"What?" she asked with a small sniff, humoring him, and tried to wipe away the tears from her eyes.
"All mine. Forever." He lifted her hands and pressed a kiss to every finger, every knuckle. "I can show you the world. I can show you everything."
His eyes twinkled — oh, how she loved that twinkle — and Gajeel was kissing her again, holding her as close as he could, fingers digging into her hips. Levy wrapped her arms around his neck and cradled him close, small sounds of appreciation slipping from her lips.
"You make me feel powerful" she whispered against his lips, leaning against him.
"Good. You are powerful," he whispered back, cradling her body. "You are power. Power incarnate. In its purest form."
Levy giggled. She watched as the golden twirls dance on her skin. She was powerful. She was power.
"I quite like the sound of that."
Her monster pressed another kiss to her lips, and then another, and another. It was the kind eternity she could get used to.