A/N: hello! After such a long time, I have finally gotten around to writing THIS! anyway, this will have some more kyoten in it (although i wish i could have made it more intense :/) anyway, thanks so much for all the reviews, the favourites, and the followers! it makes me so happy! anyway, enough of my blabbering, Inazuma does not belong to me, and so on so forth. enjoy!

KYOTEN CRAP 17

The first thing he notices is that there's no water.

Just chilly air, everywhere, biting into his marrow and making him shiver. Is it a dream? His eyes slowly open, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision.

"Nngh..." He whimpers, softly, as he sits up. His back is aching-he looks down, and sees himself on a frigid gray slab. Stone.

"Vladimir? Riccardo? Anyone?" He tries calling out, but he immediately sucks in a sharp breath as he says the last word.

His lungs flare, tiny chest constricting as he fights to keep himself upright. The pain in his ribs is making his eyes water, and he cranes his neck to examine himself. Gray eyes widen in horror, as he sees several bruises and cuts where there have been none. Dry blood, itchy and unpleasant, is caked all over a huge, distracting gash right in the center of his stomach, stretching from the base of his sternum up to his left hip.

His shallow breathing quickly becomes hyperventilating when a smart in the lower half of his body starts throbbing like crazy, and he yelps in pain when he tries to move his leg. Fear settles like a dead weight in his stomach-if there was any stomach spared by the wound-when he sees his left leg, with tiny streams of blood running in lines down the tan contours, being held down by a shackle. A painful one at that. It's more than chafing against the skin, he notices, as he tries to keep his body from shaking due to the frigid air.

Arion is about to touch the sore weal until something large and heavy creaks, making him stop breathing all at once. Then, a slant of dusty light shines on his face, making his pupils contract.

"...Anyone? Please-I...I need-..." He wheezes frantically, despite his broken voice. But the light dissipates with a depressing flash, leaving him in the dark. If he tries really hard, he could see a faint outline, tall and muscular, quiet and stealthy like a prowling tiger coming closer with the slight clink clink of some kind of floor-scraping object.

"Yes, what do you need?" A voice asks in a cold yet expectant reply.

His gut tells him he should be scared. And really, what could make his legs tremble more than the thought of the looming shadow coming to a slow halt just a few feet away from his cold bed?

It takes a while for him to realize that it's actually a scratchy, hoarse laugh that has just come out of the thing's mouth. A laugh of all things. Does he look funny? Or does the man, no, the monster stepping closer and resting a pale hand on his wiry shin, just simply enjoy how Arion looks like a pathetic, washed-up call girl in a corner of a red district brothel?

"Get away from me!-" Arion manages to bark, voice cracking in the middle as he uses his other leg to kick at the hand. But something cold and white shoots out to hold that leg too, spreading them apart as something distantly drops on the floor. And Arion starts panicking, pleading with a tear-stricken face as something moist and hot gusts over the delicate flesh hanging between his legs. He still can't see, but it makes him feel it more, when something wet flicks over a small puncture on his thigh. Victor's lovely hickey, a gift to him some time ago. And this creature kissing the mark softly and rubbing its firm jaw against Arion's thigh doesn't seem any different, especially when its cold hands slide down and raise the boy's legs ever so slightly just to briefly grip that arse.

"Stop!" Arion squeaks, trying to kick away, and he hits something warm. Arion almost pulls away with a gasp. It felt almost like Victor's chest, felt almost like those coils of muscles pulled tight on a strong frame. But the thing, damn it, he can't see it, did it just growl? Arion doesn't have time to worry about that, mainly because the same strong grip from earlier grabs the angel's ankles, one bare, one chained, and spreads the legs apart while slinging he feet on something broad but steady. Shoulders, Arion realizes, but he bites back a half-scream as another hot flash breathes against his cock, still itchy with something white. Leftover ejaculate? He shudders at the thought.

"Arion..." Said boy jumps at hearing his name being purred, and he only has time to moan when something licks the slit of his not yet fully-matured manhood. His knees go weak, mouth whimpering as the heat goes away, traveling upwards until it's as if fanning around his face.

Crazy, he thinks, as he feels the touch of lips at the corner of his usually smiling ones, as he feels them pressing chastely on that spot before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Name it, and it is yours..." Despite the sincerity, it sounds colder than before. Creepy, if one would, as something cups Arion's cheek. Too cold to be a hand, but a hand nonetheless, with long fingers knotting through his hair, is stroking him lovingly, but that isn't what is distracting the boy. It's the hard, rigid object, casually pressing against the angel's backside, which is making Arion's head spin, because he remembers wanting so long ago to feel Victor's virile monstrosity penetrating his own virgin orifice.

"Do you still want it?" The way it's asked ripples through his spine. Even if the naïve little boy who knew nothing of desire until meeting his captor, can't see this monster's face, the throbbing at the front of his mind as he tries to will away the urges of his groin forces him to accept the fact that there is only one person, thing, creature, or whatever that can make him feel this way.

"I..." He breathlessly whispers, choking on his words when the hard thing prods against the boy's aching backside. The thing growls, grinding against the flesh and making the boy moan a little.

"Name it, my sweet Seraph..." It coaxes, kissing Arion on the sternum, near the boy's madly beating heart. Shakily, the Angel tries to move his arms, but stops abruptly when he can't move them any further from where they're fastened above his head.

"I want to...I want to see..." Arion manages to spit out despite the fear, and just for his bravery, he is rewarded when two hands slide down to his chest to play with his nipples as the mysterious figure bites the boy on a familiar spot. The wounds reopen, and Arion has a feeling that an old love bite will be bright red again when he looks into the mirror, but he can't really do anything about the blood seeping out because of the pain in his stomach and the agony in his arms.

"I want to see Victor," he whispers, clenching his eyes shut as he tries to wriggle free from the slightly pleasurable grating of teeth against his throat. The sucking comes off with a slight pop, and the air is cold on the moistness of the boy's abused skin.

"Victor? And what do you want from him?" It asks with mild curiosity, but more of contempt, and it makes Arion shiver. He doesn't know which of the two is more foreboding.

"He makes me feel safe..." The boy says quietly, and at this, mocking laughter immediately rebounds, making the angel wince as the jibing rings in his ears.

"Victor? He is nothing but a monster," the voice answers as one of its hands cup Arion's cheek.

"No, he isn't!" Arion answers defiantly, whipping his head away vehemently from the touch. Another growl, and the fingers grab the boy's chin harshly, forcing Arion to stare straight into sonething that could be eyes twinkling very faintly.

"If you're so sure..." The voice drawls, and the sound of a slight gust of wind jolts Arion. "...why don't you ask him?"

At these words, small crackles and fizzles resound, just like the ones Arion used to hear at the festivals while watching the fireworks display with Miss Sylvia. But these sounds aren't the least bit comforting; in fact, they only bring dread as the room is illuminated in a faint, dismal glow, and he sees outlines of an actual human body.

And only when its face emerges from the shadows, cheekbones and a strong jaw accentuated by the golden light, does Arion gasp in fear and cower helplessly, feet scrambling and body twisting away in fear, because he doesn't want to see, doesn't want to believe that the face looming above his is no other than the man whose name he has uttered in moments of submission and desire.

"No...please, don't do this, please..." Arion begs, tears flowing down his cheeks as something sweet and chaste presses against his chin.

"But you want it, my dear," the man replies, hands holding his midriff gently, cradling it, admiring the bluish-black streaks and dried streams colored like cayenne. "My angel, Arion..."

"No!" Arion resists, continuing to struggle despite the bonds, trying to ignore the pleasurable hand suddenly stroking his half-hard dick. "Victor, I don't want this! You're better than this..." He tries. For a moment he tries to meet the golden gaze, but the hot and suffocating glaze of lust on those orbs makes Arion afraid.

"Lying doesn't suit you," The henchman replies, and is that a smile on his usually taciturn lips?

"...I know what I want, Victor...and I don't want you, not like this," Arion says quietly. Victor stops stroking. Instead, he looks into those dark gray eyes, and the light makes it look like there are striations of blue in them. To the Angel, Victor looks almost sad, what with the hints of wistfulness tugging at those pale lips.

"You said you want me..." he says, reaching up and taking off the cuffs on Arion's wrists, holding them in one hand while setting the boy's arms down slowly. It's too surreal, watching the vampire let go of the boy's arms and letting him set them down at his sides.

And everything seems back to normal when Victor takes hold of the boy's thighs instead, leaning in to utter a few words in his ear.

"...and you have me."

Arion wants to say something, but all is forgotten and his mind is wiped clean as something pushes itself in his arse, pulsing and throbbing with the words want and desire. His eyes widen in fear, mouth parting to scream but saying nothing as just the head is completely in.

"Victor!" Arion wheezes, high-pitched and tinny, but it dissolves into a strangled moan as the obstruction is pushed an inch further. He doesn't know why his mouth is watering if it hurts, but then he rolls his hips up a bit, and he has to smile a bit at the surprised groan. The naughtiness is replaced by pain, however, when a sudden movement causes the whole thing to cram itself inside, all the way to the hilt. Hot and pulsing, wrapped tightly in those rings of flesh, and it's too difficult to move or breathe. All Arion knows as his breathing turns shallow is that the flaring pain in his backside is making the man above him smile wickedly before he licks the boy's cheek. The monster must like it very much, causing him pain.

"Please stop..." Arion whimpers, but when he shifts he accidentally moans instead, and the spike of want dripping from above him escalates.

"But you act otherwise," the man says quite evenly despite having his glory jammed into something so damn tight like forcing a camel through the eye of a needle. The boy gulps, because seeing the beads of sweat rolling off that heaving chest, as well as those damn eyes pinning him down, is causing his little friend down there to throb achingly with a lustful want. No more words are exchanged though, when Arion feels every inch sliding out. And every inch slamming back in, making his back arch at the lack of friction still causing some pleasure despite the pain.

"I can't! Please, I-I ca-ahh..." He hoarsely begs, yes Victor likes that sound, likes the sight of Arion's short fingernails grating against the rough stone. It would leave marks, it would be hell on the knees, but his contorted expression? Beautiful, priceless.

"I want you," he growls, deep, unrelenting as he begins at a slow pace. "He can't have you."

Those bright gray eyes appear under chocolate brown lashes, wanting to ask if it weren't for the huge shaft pounding in him and making him moan instead. He doesn't know what Victor is talking about, and the haze of thoughts becomes nothing but a pool of bright gold eyes and pale skin and tense muscle as Victor pulls and pushes, the slap of skin and the filthy panting echoing in his mind at the same time.

"He can't have you," Arion hears again, and it sounds like a needy and rasping whisper as Victor nearly folds the boy's body in half, still hitting that same spot even with the change of angle. It's a sin to feel this good, Arion thinks, as his eyes cross and he grabs on his thing to keep himself from coming. He doesn't even protest when the man slides something on. Like a small ring, too small but somehow it is squished on the head of his tiny cock. Arion whines, louder, and it's quite embarrassing to do so in front of an experienced man, but he really needs to release now.

"Please-pl-ea-ahh!-" he gabbles, saliva sloshing down the corners of his mouth from opening it for too long. Instead, hands grab his own, fingers interlacing as they are pinned on either side of his head.

"You're mine, Arion, and I can do what I want with you," Victor says, and said boy hates how he's still attracted by this uncouth and animalistic lasciviousness. Maybe it's because his prostate is enjoying it very much, loving how this monster is rocking his hips and making his body feel like petroleum on fire. Sticky and wet and hot.

"I-!" I'm not yours, he wants to say, but every part of him is screaming just for Victor's satisfaction. Screaming because he wants it, and he hardly registers that he's squeezing Victor's hands so tight just to keep himself from bucking too much. Something is leaking in his hole, and it's strange but everything's slick and easy. Pleasure is all he is thinking of now, and knowing that it's Victor who's giving it is making him smile. It just feels right this way, dirty, but right, when his hips snap and Victor thrusts, and he knows that he can't deny it anymore.

"I want you," the Seraph manages to say, almost swallowed by a breathless moan when Victor lets go of a hand to coil his fingers around Arion's aching cock. "I want you, I want you..."

Small fingers fist themselves in Victor's damp hair, but he could hardly care because those three words are making him lose what little control he has of his dark side. Someone wants him, and the way this innocent angel is saying it is giving him this feeling, giving him this unexplainable shock of warmth and satisfaction and this annoying little spark of hope that none of the other girls he had taken to bed could have ever given. Not Julia, not Lily, not Sera...they were nothing like this young, brown-haired boy who seemed to belong better in the sky than on the ground. Victor doesn't deserve him, no, so it's making him smile but it's breaking his heart when Arion says "I want you." This sweet angel is just a virgin, whose, like all other young boys', eyes have finally been opened to the world of sex and carnal satiation. It's a pity that he's just attracted to Victor's handsome stature and accursed sex drive. After all, who would go so far as to love someone unloved by his own kin, someone possessed by demons which he uses to kill thousands?

"Do you? Do you really?" Victor growls, grabbing the already-flushed organ leaking at the tip, about to explode. He plays with the small metal object torturing his victim, but he doesn't even break the insanely pleasurable rhythm that's taking away the virginity of his beloved.

"Yes, I do..." Arion whispers, almost crying because it's so painful but it's so good, and it's tearing him to pieces because his body can't handle this any longer.

"Then tell me that you're mine," Victor growls, and he's almost there, almost climaxing. He doesn't want to take the ring off yet, because he wants Arion to hold out for just a little longer. "Tell me that you want me and that you're mine, that you don't belong to anyone else to do with you as they please. Tell me..."

He stops talking, only because Arion makes a particularly loud and strangled noise, telling Victor to let him come, but Victor will not let others have their way, because he's tired of doing things for everyone and not doing something for himself for once.

"...tell me that you love me, and only me."

Arion gasps and shudders, moaning and mewling as the ring is pulled off and Victor releases deep inside him, pulling out slowly after. But even if he's so spent, he's very happy, very happy for some reason that Victor is his first. Only Victor, he thinks, and it's so easy to say those things, but why does he feel that he can't say them just yet?

His eyes, however blurry they are, can see the doubt and mixed feelings in those usually cold eyes. Hurt? Anger? Betrayal? Expectation? Then, Victor's earlier words ring in his mind.

He can't have you.

Arion is surprised that he can still be surprised despite being so tired. Does Victor mean?...

"Sol?..." Arion asks, feebly, as he cards through those dark blue strands gently. But this was a bad choice of word, because intense hate and anger flash through those eyes as Victor bares his teeth, growling. His hand grabs Arion's hip, trembling but almost crushing the bone in his grip, and the boy screams and pleads. Victor doesn't let go, no, not yet even if tears are streaming down that beautiful face.

"Please Victor, it hurts! Let go, please..." He whimpers, and Victor knows that the skin will be bluish purple later, that he is hurting Arion again. So he lets go, again with the selfless act, why does he have to be so kind?

Arion thinks about it, remembers that Sol is still there to save him from a scary destiny. Sol will rescue him, probably let him go home or live a life free of the weight of the world on his shoulders. He could be alive and happy, he thinks. And Sol would never hurt him, never force himself on him, not like how Victor just did.

Victor, who always puts on a brave face, and it makes Arion wonder what he is fighting for. He must have been very much loved if he is so selfless, choosing to embark on a dangerous journey to free the people and choosing to work for some evil person just to heal his brother.

'Can I really trust him?' Arion asks himself, and he tells himself that he's just being logical and reasonable. But then he looks up, straight into those glassy eyes, taking note of how they're brighter than the sun.

And something in them just makes him want to love this man no matter what.

No matter what.

"Victor..." He says, and Victor thinks it sounds a little like singing, because it's sweet and gentle and kind unlike the hundreds of whip marks his father gifted him with. They're so sweet that it's quite unreal, so sweet that it hurts him to think that Arion might not mean to be this beautifully benign with someone broken deep inside.

"I really-"

The boy is cut off when something cracks, making them both turn their attention to the wall. The fissure branches out quickly, running up to the ceiling they cannot see, and in a split second, water comes rushing out the hole. It was a dream, now it's turning into a nightmare. Arion starts to panic, flailing about and feeling as if his mind is being wiped completely as more cracks appear on the other walls, rapidly filling the room with water that had an awfully eye-stinging smell.

"Don't leave me!" The angel blurts out, holding on tighter to Victor's hand, but to his horror, Victor falls backwards, into the water, and Arion only catches a glimpse of something blue flick through the air before it disappears. He looks around frantically, looking for something to hold on to, but the walls are disappearing, fading into a lurid vermillion that mixed with gold and canary. The stone he is on turns jagged, more uneven, and his legs start throbbing painfully. He tries clamping them shut, and when he does, they start melting together, much to his dismay. The feet start deforming, elongating, thinning out to form fins, and his legs turn into these shades of gold and white, sparkling in the sunset. He looks around some more despite the salty spray of brine on his face, until his eyes catch a huge ship in the distance.

It looks somewhat like a caravel, but a bit larger than most. He could see a flash of pink on the deck, and he realizes with a start that it might be Galadriel-no, Gabriel, because he's on a dry area, along with Riccardo, J.P, and the rest of the unhappy-looking San de Salvatorre, who by some reason are being surrounded by strange guards.

Arion squints his eyes against the sun, and he wishes for a moment that he had something like a telescope. Immediately, something drops with a soft clink beside him, and he gasps as he turns around, only to smile in glee when the said instrument is glittering in the sun. He peers into it, focusing it, but his happiness is suddenly squished, turning into shock, aghast, and hurt.

He doesn't know why, he doesn't know why his heart is shattering as he sees the silhouettes of a man and a woman, standing at the very front of the ship, facing each other. Obviously he can't hear a thing, but somehow he just knows by the way that the woman is laughing, throwing her head back as the wind makes her hair whip around her face and her veil, that this woman is Leia. And of course, the man, with that tall, lean frame that no one else had.

It is his Victor. Standing there, with the woman whom he doesn't belong with.

The view turns very foggy. No, it isn't cold. Something wet is sticking to his lashes, something saltier than the sea. What's happening? He's dying to know, because he can't lose Victor, not now, not ever.

"Victor!" He screams, but his voice is carried away by the wind. He screams Victor's name again and again, but Victor cannot hear him, so he does the next crazy thing when he jumps into the water, swimming as fast as his tail can carry him.

He has to stop the wedding. It can't be happening, he can't explain why, but he just knows that he can't lose Victor.

He swims close enough to see him take her hand, slipping something glittery on her finger. A similar sparkle radiates off his own left hand, and Arion wipes away the tears in his eyes as he pulls the veil over her face. A part of him wants to stay here and cry, but another part of him is so angry that Victor has to do this all because he wouldn't wake up.

"Wake up, wake up," Arion hisses at himself, smacking his cheeks with his hands, trying to ignore the lump in his throat as he hears her laugh. And he makes the biggest mistake in his life when he looks up, because the worst part is...

...he looks quite happy.

Arion can't tear his eyes off the two of them. Victor is actually smiling. For real.

"I..." I love you, he wants to say as he cries to no one but himself, alone again, isn't he? Why didn't he say it when he had the chance, instead of waiting for everything to fall around him? Or better yet, why can't he just walk away?

"No, I have to do something if I don't want to lose him," Arion tells himself, drying his eyes. He looks up with resolve, more determined than ever to stop this nonsense.

Out of nowhere, he hears a distant rumble. Everyone on the ship starts to fret, trying to find out what's happening until they see the clouds darkening on the horizon.

"Look for cover!" Someone yells, and Arion only distantly recognizes it as Rick before panicking at the sight of a huge wave coming at them from afar. The waves start becoming unstable, rocking the boat and tilting it, and just as the boat survives a particularly gigantic wave, the sound of thunder booms through the sky, accompanied by a flash of thunder. The ladies on deck start screaming, and everyone is scrambling to get to the cellars or somewhere with decent cover.

"Hurry, my dear!" No matter how deafening the claps of thunder and the shrill screams are, that voice somehow cuts through the turmoil and rings as clear as a nightingale in Arion's ears. Only one person has that voice, and he tries to see through the upheaval to look for the would-be king. He only catches a glimpse of him escorting her through the cellar door before he is swallowed immediately by the saltiness of blue-gray.

'I couldn't do it...' His mind thinks brokenly as he lets himself be carried by the current, further away from the caravel. He always thought that if he had determination, he could succeed at anything if he put his mind to it. But now, he isn't so sure.

'Will I even be able to stop the wedding?' He asks himself, watching the flashes of light through the water. He squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to stop this wedding, he wants to change Victor's fate. He doesn't deserve to do this, not after risking everything for the sake of the suffering.

'Please...' He starts pleading to the heavens. 'Please let me wake up. Give me a chance to save him,' he says in his mind as he senses the confusion of the roiling waters and the agitated people fade gradually.

The last thing he thinks of before slipping away is Victor, and he barely notices the faint spark of light that pulses once on his chest, right above his heart, as everything fades into darkness.

/

Victor is about to leave the room when he hears a small sniffle. He immediately turns around, and he swims back only to see tears streaming down the boy's face. It is not right to see his dearest angel, his beautiful angel, being spoiled by tears, so he wipes them off. At the slight touch, the boy's body seems to calm down a little. Victor does not know why this trifle reaction seems to take off a heavy weight on his shoulders. But after all, all he wants is to make Arion happy. And he will never leave him. Ever.

/

A.N: annnnnddd there we are! hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and i am finally going to write about the wedding! hehe lel. XD catch you next time :)