Some lewds and loose ends ahead
… that line reads out so wrong and now it's your problem too
It wasn't the first time Yuuji had been kidnapped, so it wasn't hard to stay calm about the whole thing. In the end, there was just one question about the whole affair that his thoughts kept drifting back to during the long flight.
"Is princess-kidnapping a gender neutral tradition, or do female Dragons kidnapping princes just never make it into the stories?"
Yuuji found himself exceedingly grateful for having wings when his 'kidnapper' laughed so hard she nearly dropped him.
"No one told me 'that' was gonna happen on my porch," JB said with annoyance.
"Sorry, I don't think anyone knew, myself included," Rias winced. "Might have been a spur of the moment thing."
JB huffed, not exactly happy about the whole deal, but more so a little frustrated with herself for being easily rattled. Maybe she was going soft, might be time for an extended vacation.
And then she remembered that it was actually Yuuji's fault, because that wasn't even the first time a woman had kidnapped him exclusively for sex.
Nodding to herself, JB planted her face into the closest soft surface and treated herself to the cathartic effects of screaming away a bit of her stress.
Rias, for her part, jolted in her seat and flushed red, because the 'soft surface' had been her lap, and her skirt wasn't offering a whole lot of coverage.
The Dragon let Yuuji down in the barren center of a craggy, sprawling field, hemmed in by distant mountains. Landing some distance away, Tiamat's claws sank deeply into the earth as she gazed down her jewel-scaled snout at him.
Yuuji's eyebrow rose as he looked up at her, curious but unbothered.
"No picnic after all, huh?"
|"We'll keep that option on the table, if you're so interested,"| Tiamat chuckled, the sound menacing yet lyrical.
"I'm sensing a 'but' there."
|"'But', business before pleasure, though truth be told, this is a bit of both for me,"| she said. |"I am owed a favor, and I intend to collect."|
The wind reversed its direction, the source of its flow no longer the sky, but the wingbeats of the Dragon King standing proudly below it.
|"I want you, Kazami Yuuji,"| The Chaos Karma Dragon declared. |"So let us see if you have the strength to face what that means, or if you're destined to be nothing but a treasure in my hoard!"|
Yuuji considered his answer calmly and carefully.
The 3-round burst ricocheting off Tiamat's snout was met with a thunderous roar as approving as it was fierce.
Okay, so she was stressed.
Was that so wrong!?
She was his big sister, of course she was worried about how her little brother was off fighting a Dragon, even if that Dragon was actually just a horny woman and it was all some sort of courtship ritual!
"Mm, I can't help but worry too, even though I know he'll be fine," Akeno admitted from slightly behind her. "Being used to something and being comfortable with it don't match as much as I'd like."
Really, it was mostly the 'not being present' part that tended to make her worry, and that she trusted Tiamat not to go too far had nothing at all to do with it.
"And I've been meaning to ask," Kazuki began, "But why exactly am I sitting in your lap right now?"
"Not to be rude, but it would look a little silly if I sat in yours, don't you think?" Aside from… other differences, Akeno was about half a foot taller than the diminutive genius, after all.
"I'm both impressed and annoyed by how reasonable you made that sound."
"Ufufu~"
Yuuji twisted away from a thrusting hand, removing himself from the blast zone as a shotgun spray of water burst from a smooth palm.
Leaning back to evade as Tiamat slashed at him with that same hand that had abruptly become clawed and scaled, he then threw himself into a back handspring to go over the ten foot tail that swiped at him.
Predatory smirk widening, Tiamat tensed her legs to lunge after him, but reversed her direction instead to avoid the live grenade inches from her face.
The beam of water she playfully huffed towards his last known location scythed through the smoke, but as expected, he wasn't there anymore, and instead-
The way the bullets rebounded from the flexible membrane of her wing was an oddly delightful sound, akin to heavy raindrops beating against the surface of a drum.
A dab of draconic mana, and the gust generated from swiping out her wing gained ferocious focus, shattering the rocky outcropping Yuuji had just been perched atop.
Another beat of her wings, and she was right on top of him, not giving him the time to recover as he landed.
And abruptly finding herself slammed flat on her back, looking up at him with clear bemusement in her warm pink eyes. Tiamat's eyes widened as a summoned sledgehammer came howling down, rolling out of the way and twisting onto all fours, slamming a beam of her Breath into the slab of iron Yuuji summoned to block.
The shield shouldn't have held, and was indeed forced several meters back, but not only was it digging into the ground by virtue of the thick anchoring spike on the bottom, the wedge-shaped face of the shield had dispersed the force of the water just enough.
The shield dissolved into gunsmoke with droplets of water intermingling with it in the air, and there her intended was, crouched with what she believed was referred to as a 'missile launcher' resting on one shoulder.
"Oh my, that actually might sting."
Any further words were drowned out by a fierce explosion.
Yuuji let the launcher disperse but remained ready, knowing that a rocket to the face probably didn't register as much more than a solid jab to someone as inhumanly sturdy as Tiamat.
A single beat of enormous wings sent the smoke, the debris, and Yuuji himself flying, totally leveling the area as the Chaos Karma Dragon reared high, nothing more than a few scorch marks on her snout to mark taking explosive ordinance head-on.
|"Excellent! Now show… me… more!"|
Yuuji didn't play many video games, but he was confident that this was the sort of thing Gasper would call a 'Phase 2'.
"... Balance Breaker."
And so a memorial forged from iron snapped into place around him, and the Soldier faced off against the Dragon in earnest.
An army of one.
Every ghost and shadow behind his eyes moved with one will like never before, yet still, undeniably, it was him that she was fighting.
An embodiment of conflict had more than enough right to stand before her.
And perhaps, if she was truly, truly fortunate, the gun in his hand would shoot to death some of her own ghosts.
But that was for another day.
Now, there was nothing to do but throw herself into the thrill of the fight.
He liked to think he was making progress, no, actually, he really was making progress.
So it was fine right? It couldn't be helped if he wanted to cry a little right!?
Koneko-chan's Oji-chan was scary!
Gasper dove into the Dark with a yelp as a massive striped paw swept through the spot he'd been in moments before, making a thick tree trunk all but vanish.
And he didn't even have his claws out!
Gasper popped out of another shadow some distance away, his stance low as the Tiger's booming laughter shook the forest.
If it had been Gasper from a few months ago, he'd have just hidden as deeply in the Dark as he could and never left.
But putting aside the super scary feeling he had that somehow that wouldn't work on Byakko, he didn't want to.
He just couldn't.
After all, as scary as it was, as terrifying as it was, as horrifying as it was… anyways, it was really scary, but-!
Gasper himself had been the one who asked for it. He'd felt kinda bad for worrying Koneko, but she'd stared into his eyes, nodded a few times, then kissed him on the cheek and walked off with a swish in her tail.
Because Byakko knew something about Gasper that he himself hadn't understood, and now he was wracking his brains trying to figure it out in a trial by fire.
… The words of the Tiger on endless repeat inside his head.
"Hm, I can tell that courage of yours is a new scent, and that's something to be proud of. But you're missing something important lad, on the verge of something that could be dangerous if you don't keep your wits about you. So tell me this, Gasper Vladi…"
The first and only one-on-one conversation he'd had with the Tiger, and it had been just as important as the very first real conversation he'd had with Ruth.
"Who told you a bat wasn't a beast?"
A grueling battle of attrition.
Arrows scarred scales until the Hunter was swept away in a roaring flood.
Far enough away for the Grenadier to rain fire from the sky, only to be forced to take cover beneath the Guardian's shield as storm clouds rained down hissing draconic hunger.
The Lancer warded off plunging talons with precision thrusts aimed at reptilian paws, before hopping onto the iron-hooved mount of his close comrade the Cavalier to flee the strafing run of a soaring Dragon.
When the iron horse couldn't carry its rider quite far enough, it bucked strongly instead, launching the Cavalier away from the torrent of dragon's breath just in time.
However, clear of the waters he may have been, those gaping jaws were an entirely different matter.
Snap.
… Naturally though, she wasn't aiming to bite Yuuji into bits, and in fact, was rather impressed that even had she attempted to, she would have failed to do so, armor or not.
So instead, Tiamat swung her long neck like a whip, and sent that bundle of metal flying from her maw.
A grating crash kicked up a huge plume of dust and sent shards of stone flying in every direction.
As she banked around, Tiamat found herself wondering if perhaps she shouldn't have thrown him at something a little softer- doubtful that it was a fatal blow, and she was keeping Phoenix Tears on hand just in case, but…
The scent of rust and blood in the air was thick, almost cloyingly so.
… It had expected to meet its end.
The completion of the Arsenal Memoir should have meant its purpose had been fulfilled- the embodied rage of the broken was no longer needed when the broken became whole.
… The Host had told it to stop being stupid, and told it they could learn how to be more than their scars together.
And so as the Arsenal became something more, so too did what was formerly known as the Ghoul Mnemonic become something more, a spirit of rust and ruin far more enduring than mere steel.
Verse Zero; the Ghoul.
Like a beast freed from its cage and scenting fresh blood upon the wind, the Ghoul came cackling joyfully into being, raising its mismatched wings high.
… And if there was a note of confusion present in its discordant laughter, it was because the Ghoul had never fought in a play-fight before.
[Ba~list~o~pho~bi~aaa~?]
As if the dead within the earth had risen to rage war upon the heavens above, a patchwork onslaught came streaking forth from mismatched artillery, howling towards the Dragon King who backpedaled in midair.
It was a futile gesture, and Tiamat was completely overtaken and engulfed by the soaring, gleaming projectiles.
… Every single one of which was more suited to a festival and a battlefield, violently filling the sky with a riot of glitter and paint and flashing lights.
The Dragon wasn't so much knocked from the sky, as she was rendered too bewildered to remember she was flying.
And when she fell, the Operative was there, perching on the back of her neck and placing the heavy barrel of a .45 at the base of her skull.
Of course, no chance in hell he was going to use Mistilteinn in a sparring match, no matter how rough it got.
… But its existence was enough to make the maneuver a decisive threat, Dragon or not.
|"I yield."|
But if one were to judge the winner by who was more satisfied with the outcome of the fight, then Tiamat would have been the victor beyond all doubt.
There was only so long he could keep the Tiger at bay.
Even Balor wasn't good enough- even when he managed to 'stop' Byakko, the moment he dropped the time-stop, Byakko was right on top of him as if nothing had happened.
And when an enormous paw caught him, he was less struck so much as thrown, the pads on those paws cushioning the blow to an impossible degree.
It was still more than enough to smash Gasper's tiny body right through a small sapling and into a lake, sending water flying dozens of feet into the air.
If one judged by outward appearances, it should have been a killing blow, a crippling impact at the kindest estimate.
But his spirit had been the only thing about Gasper that had ever truly been frail, and so all that carefully restrained blow did was…
Smack the animal right out of its cage.
As the surface of the water began to seethe, Byakko bared his fangs in a feral grin.
A vicious winged shadow screamed its way forth, turning the space between them into teeth in an instant. A bestial darkness thrusting a small fist like a midnight cannon, pink voids of malevolence glaring as if it could bite the world to death with gaze alone.
Byakko caught that fist with one leathery palm, and the forest behind him vanished as if it was never there.
And so, with his free hand, he…
Tousled the hair of the hissing shadow and smiled.
"Feel a little better now? It's not good for brats to be holding themselves back all the time."
The darkness vanished, leaving a wide-eyed Gasper staring at his outstretched fist in disbelief, his real wings still extended out behind him.
… Maybe with this, the little bat would be convinced of what Byakko had noticed the instant he'd caught his scent.
A better match for the younger of his two newfound granddaughters…
Simply didn't exist.
Worrying. Concerning. Troubling even.
What was Ga-kun thinking?
He'd asked Oji-chan for help, help as in a spar and Ga-kun literally never asked that.
… Sure, she'd acted all cool sending Ga-kun off, and sure, she'd secretly told Oji-chan that she'd be super mad if he made Ga-kun cry, but still…
Why did Ga-kun keep getting cooler, and why did she worry about him more the more reliable he seemed?
Strange. Puzzling. Confusing even.
"K-Koneko-chan!?" Smelled weird, but weird as in better. Eyes more glowy, might need to stare into them for an hour or two. Stomach less squishy, still ticklish.
Bigger wings, proper bat wings not Devil wings.
… Probably good for hugging.
… Growth spurt unacceptable, at least until she had hers and looked like Nee-sama.
"... Oji-chan, explain." Koneko quietly demanded without letting eyes or hands stray from examining Gasper for hidden sources of additional worry.
Gasper had come back… sharper. A little taller, a little less frail in appearance, despite his already pale skin rendered almost translucent. That was the best way Kuroka could describe it as she watched her cute sister fret over her sweetheart.
A winged, pale (adorable) not-quite little beast, so if she had to guess…
"Ah, this? Well, the Grim picked up on it before anyone else, so I can't take too much credit, but…" Byakko stroked his beard. "The little Dhampir here got a little too fixated on restraining the Vampire side of his heritage, never realizing that what he was suppressing was… nothing but strength."
"Ga-kun, how do you feel?" Koneko probed hesitantly.
Gasper smiled, somewhat shyly.
"Kind of… thirsty?"
"... Have neck. Right here, see? See?"
"K-Koneko-chan! Not in f-f-f-front of other people!" Koneko nodded once and began dragging her blushing prey from the room without a moment's delay.
Kuroka was laughing the whole time she spent rescuing her poor brother-in-law.
That a single pull of the trigger could end her life served as poignant and delightful proof of the claim the Wolf had made, when she had shared a drink with the two brothers some night ago.
"That army-brat didn't need my help against the wyrm," he had rumbled. "Actually, I think the poor bastard was written off the moment the brat got what he wanted out of him."
Rendered inconsequential in his final moments, a suitably undignified end for that wretch Nidhoggr.
If Yuuji was going to battle a Dragon, it should be a Dragon who could properly appreciate the opportunity.
Such as herself.
As Yuuji dispelled the gun in his hand, Tiamat slowly began her transformation, giving him ample time to hop free of her neck.
Darling that he was, he accurately read the flow of light, catching the offered hand as it lost its claws and pulling her to her feet.
Or rather, attempting to- a playful tug and a shift of her weight saw them both falling down onto the picnic blanket she'd surreptitiously formed beneath her.
As was his right, Tiamat naturally made sure that Yuuji remained on top.
On hands and knees above her, Yuuji raised an eyebrow as he regarded the smiling Dragoness embracing him. Idly he noted that she didn't have a tail at present, which made sense since it would have prevented her from properly laying on her back.
"Splendidly done," Tiamat praised with a tinkling little laugh, her smile taking on a sultry edge.
"That was less fight and more foreplay than I expected," Yuuji blandly admitted.
Tiamat laughed even louder at that, a little tug of her hands pulling Yuuji in closer.
"Those two things aren't so far apart, if we're fond enough of our prospective mate." The serious fights tended to happen when a male was stubborn, annoying, or both.
"Or if our partner isn't a Dragon, it's a good chance to test how sturdy they are, that way there's less risk of breaking their hips when we take our turn on top."
"I appreciate the sentiment," Yuuji said dryly as the Dragon impishly stuck out her forked tongue.
"But I must say, the bout exceeded my already high expectations."
"Eh, you were holding back a lot."
"And you mean to say you weren't?" Tiamat challenged with a raised eyebrow.
Yuuji shrugged, not really seeing the need to vocalize what they both already knew.
Oh, Tiamat was well aware that there had been several moments during the fight where she could have claimed a greater advantage, had she wished to. But in terms of both intellect and instinct, her perspective on the matter was actually rather black and white.
She had been at his mercy at the end of the contest, and at no point had the reverse been true.
That was more than sufficient to authenticate the outcome.
Long and shapely legs reached up to lock into place around Yuuji's hips as her arms pulled him closer still.
"But now, the time for you to hold back is over," she growled into his ear. "Now, I expect you to take everything that you have earned, and to not relent for even a moment until you are satisfied in full."
Dragon though she may have been, there were times when even Tiamat wanted a lover to treat her gently.
This was not one of those times.
This was one of those times where the only reason she'd bothered with clothing was so that Yuuji could rip it from her body.
… And he didn't disappoint.
Most Dragons weren't fond of exposing their throat, and even with someone they trusted it wasn't entirely pleasant.
Tiamat made an exception in her humanoid form, mostly on account of that form being naturally softer and more sensitive.
In other words, her neck became an erogenous zone when covered with skin rather than scale, even as a bit of playful biting appealed immensely to the primal nature that no true Dragon could ever part from.
It was almost disorienting the way he seemed to know her body just as well or perhaps even better than she herself did- she hadn't said a coherent word since the moment she bid him have his way with her, and truthfully, there was little need.
He hadn't even needed to be told that foreplay was an unnecessary delay- merely ripped her garments from her body, swung her legs up into the air, and entered her.
… Admittedly, it was almost, almost a little embarrassing that her first (light) orgasm had come just from that.
Perhaps she had yielded a bit too much at the onset, but it had been a while since she'd been taken for a good ride, and she regretted nothing.
Well, almost nothing, but all in due course-!?
Having sensed her brief moment of distraction, Yuuji punished her for it without mercy.
… Legs trembling, breasts heaving, Tiamat gasped open-mouthed, twitching folds clinging desperately to his buried length as the warmth of his essence seeped into her body. Her blurry eyes refocused upon a pair black eyes staring down at her, an expression that was blank like a mask yet somehow radiating smug amusement.
"Cheeky… brat~"
"Thanks, now roll over," Yuuji casually replied, even as he began rolling her over. But did he really need to pull out for that?
In short order, Tiamat found herself flat on her stomach… well, as flat on her stomach as she could be with breasts as sizable as hers, legs straight and on either side of Yuuji's hips.
A shiver of anticipation rippled through her curvy form as Yuuji leaned over her…
"Remember that part where you told me not to hold back?"
-And carefully took her by the horns.
Her whole body shuddered, almost violently, and Yuuji immediately went still.
"T-those are s-sensitive!"
"In a good way or a bad way?" Honestly, he was half-teasing her with that question, given the way she'd clamped down on him like a vice.
"In a 'hurry up and stick it in me' way!"
Yuuji didn't need to be told twice, tightening his grip, and smashing away any displeasure at having pulled out earlier, as he rammed into her with more force than most women could take.
Tiamat screamed, but the sound was all pleasure, no pain.
A shorter, quieter echo of that early sound would lewdly escape Tiamat's slightly parted lips every time Yuuji bottomed out, her ass rippling audibly with each impact.
And after several solid minutes of Yuuji relentlessly hammering into her, her mouth was hanging open entirely, forked tongue dangling as drool splattered her madly jiggling bust. His grip on her horns had bent her back just enough that her bosom bounced off the ground every time he pounded into her.
Her invitation to bed her had carried with it an unspoken challenge, and when Tiamat was coherent enough to dwell on such things, she would firmly declare it to have been the smartest decision she'd made during their date.
But for the moment, Tiamat could do nothing but surrender to the joy of being taken hard, some tiny part of her strangely secure in the knowledge that her intended was only being so rough and domineering because she wished him to be.
It was an odd feeling to feel completely at ease with being fucked silly, but she didn't mind it.
… If Yuuji was being honest with himself, being able to make a Dragon pass out from sex made him just a little bit scared of himself. The truth was, he didn't usually listen when a girl asked him not to hold back, he'd just hold back less.
With Tiamat that hadn't been the case, and…
Okay, so maybe the idea of him being an Incubus wasn't so far fetched, or at least having one in the family tree somewhere.
Well, she didn't seem unhappy though so it was probably fine.
She was on her side with her back facing him, still quivering a bit beneath his hand as he stroked her flank, yet expression peaceful almost to the point of serene.
So admittedly, he was a little surprised when Tiamat sat up and stretched with a satisfied groan, breasts bouncing and back popping.
In one smooth motion, she swung a leg over and straddled his lap, smiling lips inches from his own as she draped her arms over his shoulders. The distance between them closed, and she gave him a peck on the lips that was almost chaste in comparison to what they'd just been doing.
"Hm, now I understand what that girl meant when she said 'he'll give you what you wish for, but be careful what you wish for'," Tiamat said, leaning back to withdraw to arms-length but making no move to leave his lap. "What a delightful start to our relationship."
"So we're a thing now, huh?"
"Hah! Indeed, we are a 'thing' as you put it," Tiamat smirked. She didn't bother with unnecessary things like seeking verbal confirmation, why should she, when she knew full well he had resolved to face her feelings along with her challenge?
It wasn't quite love, and least not yet. But it could be.
It could be, and devoting the immediate future to that possibility felt so ever worthwhile.
But for now…
Tiamat's tail, and then her wings, manifested for no other reason than to intimately bind their bodies together, as her smile softened in a way that few would ever see.
"Let us just enjoy the present moment, and worry not where it leads." So saying, she leaned her head forward until the distance between their lips once again vanished.
If Grayfia were to summarize her impressions of Kazami Kazuki, it was that the title of 'Yuuji's elder sister' explained perhaps more than it should.
That way their insight was as sharp as their tongue, the way they could carry themselves with such aloofness they seemed untouchable, indestructible.
Yuuji's dangerous edges had softened somewhat, as he grew accustomed to the ordinary happiness he craved, but Kazuki seemingly remained distant even as she integrated more readily than her taciturn sibling.
And yet, those eyes… so similar in hue to her own, yet pale and cold. Like blood frosted over.
Ironic, given who between the two of them was the master of ice magic.
"Ordinarily I would wait until we were a bit more familiar with one another, before bringing up something like this," that tiny, towering girl began, "but I've decided playing the long game is likely to do more harm than good. When can you spare me a bit of time, Grayfia?"
Finished with the picture-frame she'd been attending to, Grayfia lowered the feather duster in her hand.
"I suppose there's no harm in beginning my break a bit early," she replied. "Join me for tea?"
"Coffee for me if you don't mind, I'm already getting spoiled by the brew you make," Kazuki nodded in agreement. "Ah, but if you're having tea, something calming would probably be best. Calming and in cups you don't care about."
It was another bit of common ground between the Kazami siblings- how blandly earnest yet hopelessly awkward they were when attempting to reassure someone.
Feeling that the extra indulgence would do her some good, Grayfia decided upon adding a drop of honey to the herbal tea she was planning to brew.
"You should know that I was entirely serious when I spoke of seeking a resolution for the low birthrates of the Biblical races," Kazuki began after a slow sip of her coffee. "I looked into it a little over these past few days, and as it stands, there's not a single sustainable population to be found among the three factions."
It was a very 'Kazami-esque' sort of thing to begin a topic like that with no lead-up.
"Indeed," Grayfia nodded slowly. "As you have no doubt surmised, it makes a certain amount of sense- siblings being born centuries apart is quite normal for Devilkind. If those intervals were in line with what was normal for humans, a Devil woman could quite possibly give birth to thousands of children in her lifetime. Hell would grow overpopulated to a ludicrous degree." And every single inheritance struggle would have the numbers for a full-blown civil war.
"And yet the current state of affairs is that an accidental pregnancy is seen as the shining of a lucky star," Kazuki noted. "And not just among Devils. But we could talk about that for hours, so I'll narrow the field a bit by saying that I intend to focus my initial efforts towards Devils."
Almost all of her would-be sister-in-law's were, or eventually would be Devils, after all.
It was pleasant news for Grayfia, even-
"-if it had little to do with you, correct?" Kazuki finished aloud what she was thinking.
The teacup in Grayfia's hands froze, along with its contents.
… It was proof of her nature as a doting sibling that sharing a flaw with Yuuji made her a little bit happy, even as she inwardly berated herself for it.
Both herself and Yuuji, it turned out, were hopelessly clumsy at being considerate with their words.
Recognizing how dangerous the situation had become, Kazuki's mind raced towards de-escalation as the temperature plummeted sharply.
"And what, precisely, do you mean when you say that?" A voice with all the slow dignity of a creeping glacier asked of her.
"... That when we first spoke on the topic, there was only one woman who didn't dare hope," Kazuki admitted with a tone that gave nothing away.
Grayfia placed her frozen teacup on the frosted over table, back ramrod straight as she regarded the smaller girl.
Unaware of the irony of her thoughts, Kazuki found herself wondering how the color red could seem so impossibly, dreadfully cold.
"And what of it?" Grayfia asked without a hint of inflection.
"If it was anything natural in origin, it would not be a problem," Kazuki replied. "Devilkind has never been in a place from which they could afford such problems to persist, and even more so when one of their best was afflicted."
Every fraction of her senses focused on one person, and even still she almost missed that flinch, so minute was that outward ripple of disquiet.
"But I didn't mean to push this conversation nearly so soon, so answer me just two questions."
She hadn't the faintest inkling if the silence she was greeted with was acceptance or merely self-restraint, but she bulled on nonetheless.
"Grayfia Lucifuge, did you kill the woman who cursed you?"
A nod offered by nothing more than reflex.
"Would you do it again, given the chance?"
"Gladly." The answer was instant, cutting through the cold like a knife.
Gladly, joyfully.
In her darkest moments, Grayfia had looked back on the mercy of a quick death and derided herself for her own naivety.
But at that moment, one thought dominated her mind above all else.
Thin lips with a stiff smile, as if carved onto those doll-like features. A mesmerizing glimmer in those eyes like frozen blood, as if watching lifeblood cool from beneath a veil of ice.
It was a question that had been repeating in her head on an endless loop, from the very instant Grayfia realized that her deepest wound was laid completely bare before Kazami Kazuki's razored gaze-
"Then Grayfia, if you give me your full cooperation, without question or complaint, I might just have what it takes to set you free."
… Between the two of them, which one of them was the Devil?
Sitting alone out on the rooftop, Kazuki let a soft sigh escape.
She really was useless when it came to regular people, but she'd somehow managed to acquire Grayfia's consent. Without loss of consciousness due to hypothermia, thanks to the Grail.
That would make it much easier to work out a solution for the curse clinging to the maid's body. Come to think of it, couldn't she have just mentioned offhand that the Grail let her see abnormalities clinging to the body?
She hadn't cried the first time she properly looked at Yuuji just because of the reunion, she'd never been that sweet of a girl.
The only reason Yuuji wasn't strapped to a medical bed, that very moment, was due to how the Grail helpfully informed her that his healing process was well underway, without her needing to lend a hand.
It was a little sad to know that he didn't need her nearly as much as he seemed to think, but that didn't mean she couldn't do anything for him. After all, curing the 'malice' that gripped Grayfia like an eternally clenched fist would benefit Yuuji as well.
As would addressing the broader issues plaguing Biblical birthrates.
It was further proof of how terrifying Kazami Kazuki could be, that tackling centuries-old threats to entire species ultimately just registered, in her mind, as doing something a little nice for the younger brother she adored.
Having whisked away her kidnapped prince to her newest lair like a proper Dragon should, Tiamat had enlisted Yuuji's assistance in the long overdue task of properly breaking in her bed.
At a slower, gentler pace than before, though.
Having worked off the edge in a thoroughly satisfying fashion, she was in the mood for a more tender sort of intimacy. Born in no small part from the desire to experience for herself that gentleness her lover kept carefully sheltered from sight.
Hence why she had moved their entangled bodies with magic, allowing her to remain straddling Yuuji's lap, embracing him with as much of her body as possible. Two bodies moving with one purpose within the veil of her wings.
Of course, he had earned his right to take what he wished from her. She would not have particularly minded if her wish for a moment's tenderness was overruled.
And it was the moment when it became clear that his wish was to respect hers that Tiamat made her decision with ease.
Dragons could be patient to a terrifying degree when it suited them. They could also make any decision, great or small, in a single instant when it suited them, and Tiamat quietly did just that.
And the way that decision displayed itself was that, until the moment their first of many times shared was done, their bodies did not separate for even a moment.
… It was a funny little moment of deja vu for Akeno.
The first time they'd discussed Yuuji had been in the bath as well, and Tiamat had shown a similar level of decisiveness in her actions then.
This time, she didn't even know Yuuji had returned from his date until the moment a blue-haired babe that wasn't Kala started washing her back.
"I do not wish to seem impatient," the Dragon was telling her, "but it has been centuries since I was last with child, and I would prefer not to extend that wait by more than a decade or so, if you don't mind moving things along a little."
There was two seconds of silence between the moment Akeno processed Tiamat's words, and the moment Akeno began choking on air.
Unaware of how his future was being discussed, Yuuji was faced with the odd revelation that 'overnight' was a longer stretch of time than he gave it credit for.
Gasper had gone through a growth spurt, both physically and mentally it would seem, and was currently having his head patted in direct response to the 'praise me' energy he'd been emitting.
At a glance, he'd probably nudged his way into a healthy BMI for a (human) boy of his age, and just barely slipped into the average height range among the boys in his class.
But more importantly, Gasper had gained confidence, which really felt like an appropriate result from fist-fighting a tiger in the woods and walking away unscathed.
At the rate he was going, Gasper might turn into an emotionally healthy teenage boy or something.
Come to think of it, Gasper wasn't the only one, huh?
Their gazes met, then, and a wry, self-deprecating sort of humor was reflected back in those pink orbs that made both chuckle.
From their seats on the couch where they sat with arms crossed, Kuroka and Koneko shared a brief, confused glance, then shrugged, gave up, and went back to watching the two boys with a smile.
School was technically back in session after the freak accident (Dragon attack) that had devastated the city yet miraculously caused little more than a handful of casualties (the spirits in his head were busy preening, knowing that they were included in the 'miracle' he was thinking of), but it was still the weekend, so Yuuji had been making good use of his last free day.
Incidentally, most of his sleeping time had been afforded to the fact that there were a good deal of women in his life that took great satisfaction from falling asleep in his arms. Otherwise his sleep time might have been almost entirely replaced with sexy times.
Which didn't sound bad, but then they'd worry if he ended up sleep-deprived while blaming themselves for their part in it.
But the last major 'plan' of his was something a good deal less sexy, and a good deal less certain in the result.
Azazel had been pretty busy lately, leading the real repairs of Kuoh that the mundane residents didn't know about. That, and ensuring that any of them who had seen something they shouldn't have, like metal people or fantasy monsters, could safely lose those memories without long-term complications.
With that well in hand, he was more than ready for a break, and had agreed to meet with Yuuji.
Yuuji, and First- the eight-winged Fallen Angel that was the original wielder of the Arsenal Memoir. Or rather, the half-Fallen Angel; she'd all but forgotten that fact, but a few scraps of memory had slipped back into place when Yuuji had pointed out that a full-blooded Fallen couldn't be born with a Sacred Gear.
… Which wasn't quite true either, First had admitted as if in a trance.
She hadn't been born with the Arsenal Memoir. Something had happened, something irreversible that had overturned everything she knew ('and you would think that would be important enough for me to remember!'), and in the chaos that had resulted, something within her had shifted too.
A hellish week of delirium and pain, after which she'd woken up with iron in her veins and ghosts in her heads. Blessed and possessed by a power that was never meant to be granted to anyone.
A power that had painted a target on her back, leading to her death not long after.
That memory had not been recalled by her, but dreamed up by her Host… by Yuuji.
As if earth and sky waged war upon one another, poison was belched up from lightless depths in an effort to blot out the fire pouring down from the heavens above.
Every blighted battlefield, a charnel pit where the mighty and the meek rotted as one.
They called it the Great War, as a reminder that war was the greatest, most all-consuming tragedy of all, and that their three races would never recover from the first… and would never survive if there was a second.
And of the numberless, nameless dead that battle produced, only the first Host of their denied wishes had retained even a shred of her self-awareness.
Of the memory she clinged desperately to for centuries to come, of dying with an apology on her lips that, no matter how often she tried to repeat that sound, she could never make out who the apology was for.
He was aware it was a shot in the dark, and had told her as much when he suggested it, but First was still willing to go along with his suggestion. He was pretty sure she was just humoring him and didn't hold any real hope, but her inability to hope for herself was a relatable problem he knew from experience she wouldn't be able to fix on her own.
If she had died in the Great War, then maybe, just maybe, a comrade in arms would hold just one of the answers she sought.
Maybe, just maybe-
…
…
Ah… no maybe about it.
Azazel waltzed through the front door of the ORC office without knocking like he always did…
And stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes met the gaze hidden by a black blindfold.
For all his outwardly lackadaisical demeanor, Azazel was a schemer, a meticulous planner. He had to be, in order to lead and protect the smallest Biblical faction, one whose members bore the inherent instability of being shaped by wounds above all else.
… And for the first time in what felt like centuries, his mind was empty of all but a name.
"... Ari…?"
The Arsenal Memoir held its breath as slim, mutilated fingers began to shake.
"... That isn't my name," First's voice was a taut, fragile whisper as her feet began to close the distance, seemingly of their own accord. "At least not all of it, am I right… Father?"
With every step she took, scars faded to gunsmoke and feathers of lustrous black returned to their rightful place.
"Yes… that's right…" Azazel fumbled forward as the ache in his chest grew almost crippling in its ferocity.
Between them lay centuries of distance, and the sudden exposure of hidden wounds never permitted the chance to heal.
Closing that distance took seven steps, and the name of the first wielder of the Arsenal Memoir and the last of its forgotten dead was…
"Ariel… my daughter's name is… your name is… Ariel." The 'first' born of a union between Fallen and Human in all of creation… and the last Grigori casualty of the Great War.
Over hundreds of years, First had shed many tears of rust and blood, tears enough to fill a pond, a lake… perhaps even a sea.
But never for herself.
How to feel her own pain had been the very first thing lost to her, as the Great War flooded the Arsenal Memoir with dead that none but her could grief for.
But no longer.
The woman known as First, the woman known as Ariel, cried for all that she had lost, for all that she had given up on reclaiming as even that sense of loss fled from her…
Ariel cried, and every last crystal-clear tear was wiped away by the midnight feathers of a father at long last permitted to hold his daughter once again.
A father who had been the first to step onto that blighted battlefield of long ago, and now, having at long last reclaimed the missing piece of his heart… the very last Fallen Angel to finally make his way home.
'Ariel' is a minor angel depicted in Paradise Lost who was brought down in the first day of the War in Heaven. And though Ariel of Pawn was more 'mighty' than 'meek', far stronger than her were buried in that dreadful conflict.
But the Great War wasn't ancient history for everyone and also fucking finally I've been waiting to reveal Azazel's daughter was the first Arsenal Memoir wielder forever.
Some of you might have noticed that the timeline is a little out of order, though- the death of God and the Four Satans (and Azazel's only daughter) was the tipping point that ended the War, but the Arsenal Memoir didn't get released until after God died…?
Well, the DxD timeline is kind of a mess, which makes Pawn's timeline kind of a mess but actually not in this case.
The Arsenal Memoir being a 'glitch in the system' means that it doesn't properly follow all the rules of Sacred Gears.
Anyhoo, more on that next chapter, when I'm not dropping 'casual' fights against mythological figures.
The tipping point of Gasper pursuing his path was following the advice of a black-furred beast, so it felt a little poetic for a black-striped beast to guide him further down the trail.
With Tiamat, I snuck in a bit of a 'what-if' there- a glimpse of what would have happened had fighting Nidhoggr ever been Yuuji's actual priority in the throne room.
Alas, it was not meant to be- because Yuuji doesn't give a fuck, but speaking of fuck, Yuuji is now officially more of a dragon layer than a dragon slayer (¬‿¬)
PS: did anyone like how even Grayfia is counted among 'regular people' by Kazuki's standards?