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(this came out of a conversation in the comments on a previous post about an author threatening to stop updating a fic because of lack of engagement)
So there’s this idea that fic writers should write for themselves and not care too much about stats or engagement,
and i totally get the sentiment behind that. if writing becomes entirely about stats and external validation, something important does get lost - creative freedom and joy, conviction in your own writing
but i also think:
“i write for myself, but i post for others.”
because posting fic is not only self-expression. it’s social. ao3 is called an archive, but emotionally it often functions as a community space.
people post for connection, for participation, for others to bear witness to their pain and trauma and grief,
and i don’t think most people are asking to be admired so much as acknowledged. there’s something deeply human about wanting another person to encounter something that mattered to you and go:
“ok, yeah, I see what you were trying to say. I see you.”
especially because fanfic is often people processing very real feelings through fictional characters at a safe distance, one step removed,
and then uploading that deeply personal thing into a shared archive and hoping somebody else might connect with it.
And i think that’s why it hurts so much when you summon up the courage and post a fic into the void and you get nothing back,
Petrichor: First Raindrops ch11 - Tonelico x Castoria (Fate/Grand Order) [Smut]
Content Warnings (whole fic): Non-Con・Major Character Death
Side Pairing: Morgan x Castoria
Part 1 of the Petrichor (Time Loop) series
There's more than one way to prevent someone from becoming a threat - especially for a queen who's grown too indifferent to care about her methods. But what about her past self?
A story in which Castoria meets Tonelico before the tragic fate befell Orkney, and joins the future savior on her pilgrimage - unaware Tonelico is the future queen Morgan.
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Character Study | Hurt/Comfort | Non-Con | Dubious Consent | Conflicted Feelings | Power Imbalance | Coercion | Submission | Captivity | Collars | Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Orgasm Denial | Mild Elements of BDSM | First Time | Time Travel | Temporal Paradox | Time Loop | Amnesia | Training | Sparring (Magi-Match) | Found Family | Rivalry | Slow Burn | Domestic | Domestic Fluff | Bath Sex | Mana Transfer | Cunnilingus | Angst | Emotional Hurt | Doomed Timeline | Doomed Relationship | Doomed Yuri | Self-Sacrifice | Kinda Incest But Not Really | Pseudo-Incest | Castoria is 20 instead of 16 | Tonelico is 19/20 instead of 15/16 | ToneCas fic with 3 chapters of Morgan x Castoria (AO3 won’t distinguish ToneCas and MorCas so take this tag)
Also posted on: AO3
Petrichor series: AO3
-> ★ ToneCas Agenda ★ Discord server <-
<- Previous Chapter
11 - Respite
If it weren’t for most movements causing discomfort at the very least, Tonelico would roll her eyes. This oblivious fool… Artoria would know that mana is found in bodily fluids and can be transferred that way between two individuals if she’d read more books.
Too often did she find Artoria spaced out, or even asleep on top of a tome. Drooling on the precious pages. At least the sight was cute.
“It’s not what you think. Nngh—” Tonelico groans lowly at the pain she feels when she readjusts her position. “You can have some of my mana that way.”
“Really?” Artoria’s face lights up at this easy fix. “Right! Your spit contains mana, so if I… drink it…”
As the realization sinks in, Artoria’s face flushes. Kissing is one thing. Still embarrassing, but something she’s growing comfortable with. But actively drinking another’s saliva? That’s… too lewd. No way Artoria would do that!
… but is there a choice?
Artoria tells herself it’s for Tonelico’s sake. Only so they can get back to the lakeside faster, and rest properly. That’s all. She’s not at all curious about this. Having made her decision quicker than she’d like — a total 180 from her initial reaction — Artoria clears her throat.
“Well, that— that sounds like the most sensible solution. So, if I may…”
Artoria leans in to brush her lips over Tonelico’s. She’s trembling. Nervosity, anticipation, or a mix of the two takes hold of her; but Artoria manages to push them aside.
The little spark generated by the brief touch of their lips provides easily enough motivation for Artoria to keep going.
She tries to ignore that sensation in an attempt to convince herself that this isn’t an intimate gesture for the sake of it, but merely something done for practical reasons. As though believing that would make it easier to pull through.
Artoria shuts her eyes tightly; the last thing she wants to see while she does this is Tonelico’s eyes, in which she can imagine the amusement. The familiar glint saying ‘You’re way too cute’ all too clearly.
‘It’s for Tonelico… Just for Tonelico…’
When Tonelico parts her lips, Artoria’s tongue reluctantly enters her mouth. Artoria cups Tonelico’s face to steady herself — emotionally more than physically — as her tongue tentatively explores Tonelico’s mouth. Rubbing her tongue over Tonelico’s, Artoria finds herself surprised at how rough a texture a tongue turns out to have.
Even more surprisingly, the contact feels awfully good.
Each brush of her tongue against Tonelico’s sends a warm shiver down Artoria’s spine, delicately and slowly. A faint tingle, barely noticeable, appears to spread throughout her body, encompassing every single nerve ending, whenever this pleasant shiver makes its way downwards.
It becomes addictive quickly.
Artoria feels her entire being grow warmer by the second; like the comfort of a campfire that risks turning into an all-consuming blaze if careless.
These embers, fueled by each almost-leak of Tonelico’s voice that catches in Artoria’s throat, flush any second guesses out of her mind, along with other thoughts she may have been able to form if not for the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Until Tonelico’s tug at her sleeve reminds Artoria why she’s doing this. Her face grows steaming hot at the realization of how quickly she’s lost herself to those pleasurable sensations and forgotten the important part. The whole reason they’re doing this.
More composed — and ashamed — than before, Artoria now focuses on recharging her mana rather than on Tonelico’s addictive being.
Any bit of saliva Artoria finds in Tonelico’s mouth, she laps up. The subtle taste of iron doesn’t go unnoticed. It reminds Artoria of the blood Tonelico has coughed up. As if to soothe wounds that aren’t found here, Artoria tenderly runs her tongue over every centimeter in Tonelico’s mouth.
She’ll clean up all the blood and its remainders from the inside of Tonelico’s mouth.
It doesn’t take much for Artoria to feel her mana levels rise, once she pays attention to it. With how much Tonelico appears to have to spare — thanks to the bells she’s rung — this method is more than efficient, despite the concurrent distraction of building arousal.
An all too delicious drawback to the practicality.
Artoria’s hand finds its way back to Tonelico’s side, casting a healing spell sustained by the mana she drains directly from the spell’s target. It takes an incredible amount of concentration to simultaneously heal injuries as severe as those Tonelico suffered from the battle against the calamity while recharging in this manner. But Artoria manages.
Some flicks of her tongue against Tonelico’s seem to work like a charm; making Tonelico involuntarily salivate. More fuel for Artoria.
Artoria soon finds a rhythm that comes to her easily, leaving her in a trance as she occasionally sucks on Tonelico’s tongue, continuously lapping up the mana-filled liquid that’s long since lost the taste of iron. Cleansed by Artoria’s meticulous efforts; not that they are entirely altruistic.
Eventually, after a moment in which time has lost all meaning, Artoria pulls away. Her breath is hot and labored, and so is Tonelico’s, whose cheeks have taken on a rosy-red color.
Half-closed eyes with the faintest hint of a tear at the corner, the crystal blue pupils focused intently on Artoria, yet not fully present in the current moment. Lost in the all-consuming distraction of primal desire.
The mere sight gives Artoria the urge to crash her lips down against Tonelico’s once more — to ravage her right here, right now.
Thankfully, a moment of clarity allows her to reconsider. Artoria clears her throat before losing herself to primal instincts she hasn’t even been fully aware she possesses. Especially not to this degree. She’ll blame this corruption of herself on Morgan.
“Thanks.” Tonelico’s voice is raspy. She clears her throat, allowing her mind to find its way back to their present situation.
“Sure. Anytime.”
‘Stupid… Idiot… Why did I say that!?’
“We should get moving.”
Artoria helps Tonelico up, despite her own legs being a bit wobbly by now. It takes a few steps, the clear air of the forest, and a moment of silence penetrated only by the soft rustling of leaves on their way, to recover mentally and allow the strength to come back to their limbs fully.
Not that the stoked embers inside of the two fairies would cool down any soon, though. Merely smolder, waiting for the next spark to reignite the fire.
Once the lakeside comes into view, Tonelico and Artoria relax. This is their safe haven — for now — where other fairies wouldn’t find them. Not with Tonelico casting a barrier around the area, making sure to keep every living being outside and grant the two a much needed and well-deserved breather.
Tonelico looks at Artoria, only to avert her gaze quickly once she recounts the all too passionate kiss they’ve shared mere moments ago at the sight of Artoria’s lips, smudged blood clinging to them. She feels as though she can still taste them on hers.
It was a surprise to see Artoria so forward, so lost in whatever came over her — but a very welcome one. Stirring feelings in Tonelico that make her wish to see more of this side of Artoria that she’s never noticed. While she still has the chance.
Though with how Artoria very intently avoids meeting Tonelico’s eyes, fiddling around with her hair, this assertiveness is gone by now. Perhaps it requires the right push. Back in Orkney, in the bath, it was similar, after all.
But that’s nothing to dwell on right now. That’s a matter for later.
“These really need to be cleaned,” Tonelico says to herself after a quick look at her clothes.
It doesn’t take much of an assessment for that conclusion. Dried blood seeped into the white fabric, dyeing it dark red in multiple places. A grim reminder of injuries sustained, of a battle that may have gone awry with fatal consequences had things gone differently. Had Artoria not stepped in.
“Same here.”
Not as sullied by blood — mostly Tonelico’s — but Artoria’s clothes are in a similar state. With that and the accumulated sweat of travel, the lake provides too convenient an opportunity for washing their clothes to pass it up. It doesn’t require any further consideration.
Tonelico removes her garments, one by one. The glances Artoria tries to steal aren’t as sneaky as she hopes. It brings a smile to Tonelico’s face.
Artoria is plain adorable, trying to hide what Fairy Eyes would see through easily. Not that Tonelico blames her. Wanting to look at the body of the one you love is only natural, after all. Wishing to touch it even more so.
“What are you waiting for?”
The amused smile carries into Tonelico’s voice, a light chime that reaches Artoria’s ears. Her face flushes upon being clearly caught in the act of ogling the undressing Tonelico. If only Tonelico were less observant, or at the very least didn’t let the endearment show. It’s absolutely on purpose, Artoria is sure of that. Only to fluster her further.
“N-nothing.”
Artoria follows suit and undresses, almost tripping over her own feet when she removes the black leggings. Together with Tonelico, Artoria places the garments into the lake. Instinctively, Artoria covers her chest with her arm, the other shielding her privates from view. Not that anyone but herself or Tonelico is here, so she knows it shouldn’t bother her, but…
‘How can she be so calm and unabashed? Must be nice, having such a body…’
That sulky pout isn’t new. Tonelico can tell what goes through her silly companion’s head, but she won’t comment on the envy sparked by the apparent inferiority complex. Instead, she takes her staff and casts a spell that would use the lake’s water to thoroughly clean the fabric of all that should not be there — blood, dirt, and sweat, among other particles.
While Tonelico uses magecraft to wash their clothes, Artoria retrieves a blanket from their shared frugal luggage and sits down on it near the shore, hugging her legs to her chest. There’s nothing for her to do after all.
It’s not that she’d prefer to keep Tonelico in her view, or so Artoria tells herself.
“Don’t you think you abuse your magecraft sometimes?”
‘Must be nice being able to do everything with a quick spell instead of by hand.’
Tonelico chuckles.
“I’m a witch after all. Isn’t that to be expected?”
Artoria rolls her eyes. She has no words for this fairy sometimes.
“Hm? What’s this?”
From a pocket in Artoria’s dress, Tonelico pulls out an object she hadn’t expected to ever see again: her glasses. The lenses are smudged, but otherwise they’re in perfect condition. Tonelico holds the glasses in her hand.
The nostalgia of familiarity washes over her; for a moment she feels as though she’s back in Orkney. When her life knew less pain and her days were spent in her study, more recently most of them with Artoria.
“… you kept them?”
“Ah… Yeah.” Artoria pulls her knees close. “You threw them away, but I— I couldn’t leave them behind like that.”
“Why?” Tonelico’s thumb brushes over the cold, flat surface of the lens.
“They’re a part of you. Of the old you.” Artoria nervously chews on her lip. “I thought— Well, when you threw them away, I was afraid that you’d be gone. You were different after… after that happened.”
“I see.”
With a swing of her staff, Tonelico materializes a magical string between the branches of two trees and swings it again to let the clothes find their way onto it to dry. It would be faster to dry them with a different spell instantly, but they aren’t short on time.
Rather, Tonelico wants to make the most of the time she has with Artoria while she can. This is better done without clothes.
“I missed the old you,” Artoria mutters.
Tonelico takes a cloth, soaks it in the lake’s clear water, and then warms it. When she joins Artoria on the blanket, she gently wipes off her own blood from Artoria’s lips and hands. A more proper bath can wait for later.
Artoria returns the gesture, careful to not put too much pressure on places that might still be sore. With Tonelico’s magecraft, even using a lake to wash up isn’t accompanied by cold discomfort.
Once they’re cleaned up, the cloth is discarded to the side. Washing it can be done tomorrow, it’s not that important. Not as important as what Artoria said just a moment ago.
Tonelico retrieves a handkerchief from their small luggage and wipes the glasses properly clean, with no smudges that would impair her vision left, before she puts on her glasses again — for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
“You sure are careless, aren’t you?” Tonelico’s smile is warm and gentle as her crystal blue eyes look at Artoria’s emerald green through the lenses. “All those smudges. I’d see better without the glasses at that point.”
“I tried my best! How do you even get them so perfectly clean just like that? Must’ve been a spell, too.”
Artoria pouts. But the relief and happiness at seeing the Tonelico she originally fell in love with again, just the same as back then, makes her heart melt.
Tonelico is Tonelico, no matter what. But those round glasses simply make her even more Tonelico. A feeling that cannot make sense by logic, but Artoria’s heart understands this as irrefutable truth.
“It only takes practice.” Tonelico leans against Artoria, then rests her head on Artoria’s shoulder. “Although I really don’t need them anymore.”
“Isn’t it better to wear glasses if your eyesight is bad? Or did you correct them with some spell?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m only a little farsighted. It’s straining to look at very near things for long periods, so I needed glasses to read without a headache. That’s all.”
Artoria already knew that Tonelico’s eyesight isn’t that bad. But hearing it from Tonelico herself is a confirmation that stings. Tonelico doesn’t have to add that reading is a pleasure not granted to her anymore.
She hardly has the time to delve into books, and by the looks of Orkney’s castle on that fateful day, the entire library must’ve burned down to ashes anyway, so she has no books left to read either.
Artoria wishes that someday, Tonelico can lose herself in countless words written on pages once more. Truly be who she is, not what she needs to be.
“I see.”
Artoria leans her head on Tonelico’s. There is a faint breeze, though it doesn’t feel cold, even as exposed as the two of them sit there at the lake. A moment of true peace, tranquility. Shared quiet proximity between the two Fairies of Paradise who take in each other’s company.
Until the sun starts to set, and they realize they have yet to make camp.
Although neither wants to separate just yet, instead bask in the warmth of each other’s body heat for what could be an eternity, they know this shouldn’t be put off further.
With coordinated teamwork, they get their modest tent set, and a small campfire started within no time. The blanket finds its place on the ground inside the tent that shields them from the weather, and another blanket is added to disappear under for the night later.
“It took way too long to get this stuff,” Artoria laments with a sigh. The fact that they originally started the pilgrimage with nothing but the clothes they’ve worn at the time fills her with dread.
“I miss sleeping under the stars sometimes, though.”
“You can always just leave the tent to me. I wouldn’t complain about more space.”
Artoria sticks out her tongue, though it doesn’t take long for her to eat her words and regret the cocky suggestion.
“Wouldn’t you get lonely all alone at night?” Tonelico leans closer, until her breath tickles Artoria’s ear. “I, for one, can’t wait to hold you in my arms tonight, but if you’d prefer to sleep alone…”
“N-no, that’s— I mean—”
Artoria’s head is spinning at the insinuation. Clearly, clearly, Tonelico is implying something here. It doesn’t take more than this to stoke the embers from their earlier passionate kiss, starting the fire inside of Artoria’s core back up.
She can tell Tonelico feels the same.
“Now, what will it be?” Tonelico asks, standing at the tent’s entrance.
She knows the answer. Tonelico is acutely aware of Artoria’s eyes wandering over her naked form; the envy that usually flares up upon the sight having no chance against the desire that’s already burning Artoria up inside.
If seeing the one you love longing for your body is arousing, then Fairy Eyes can only amplify this effect.
Artoria’s mouth won’t cooperate, so she simply disappears into the tent and pulls Tonelico after her. Tonelico lands on top of the two blankets, surprised by the sudden action, and by Artoria on top of her, leaning down until their noses nearly touch.
“You don’t need to ask,” Artoria mutters. She’d never choose to sleep alone if having Tonelico with her is an option.
“I know.”
Tonelico smiles, before crossing the distance to meet Artoria’s lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. Her arms wrap around Artoria to hold her close.
The lack of clothes is convenient and appreciated; Tonelico loses no time before letting her hands roam over Artoria’s back. The smooth surface is almost hot to the touch, a clear indication of the fairy’s state. Not that Tonelico fares any better.
“It’s been too long,” Tonelico mutters against Artoria’s lips as she pulls away for a moment.
“Yeah…”
Way too long, in fact. So much time has passed since the downfall of Orkney, since the time they’ve gotten intimate with each other in the bath. Tonelico hadn’t asked for permission then, though Artoria didn’t mind.
Only by now does Artoria know why: She’s loved Tonelico ever since then.
At the time, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but once it became clear over the course of the pilgrimage, all the pieces fell into place. A life without Tonelico feels utterly wrong. Empty.
Artoria wants Tonelico — all of her. A feeling akin to hunger wells up inside of Artoria, and she closes their distance once more.
In no time at all, Artoria grows uncharacteristically bold. As though there’s no room for thought, consideration, or patience in her mind; Artoria only follows the overwhelming intuitive feeling Tonelico stirs inside of her.
If there be shame and regret, that’s of no concern now.
This carelessly passionate desire is a flavor of pleasure Tonelico has yet to taste. She feels Artoria’s sharp canine drag across her lip, making her wonder how it would feel to be bitten.
The sweet pain mixing with the heat is what Tonelico can only imagine enhancing this encounter further.
If only because it would feel perfectly like Artoria to do so.
“Nnnh—”
Tonelico’s startled voice leaks out when the small canine comes dangerously close to breaking skin. The sudden reaction makes Artoria pause and pull away, glad to see no wound. She brushes her thumb over Tonelico’s bottom lip, assessing the invisible damage and expressing a gentle apology.
“Sorry,” Artoria mumbles. “Does it hurt?”
The tender worry with which Artoria gazes at her makes Tonelico’s heart swell; it feels as though it could choke her with guilt.
A feeling that threatens to overcome Tonelico any moment should she not try her hardest to swallow it whole; unable to fully erase it from existence. Artoria cares so much about her in the smallest ways, and here Tonelico lies, keeping secrets still.
Artoria deserves better. She, at the very least, deserves to know. There’s a limit to how much time you can buy.
At this moment, Tonelico makes up her mind. Tomorrow, she will tell Artoria everything. What it means to be a Fairy of Paradise, and what fate awaits them and Britain.
Ignorance may be bliss, and it would be so much easier not to share the harsh truth. But Tonelico doesn't want to lie to Artoria any longer. She’s promised to share her plans with Artoria once she’s certain.
This feeling of guilt shall no longer separate their hearts like a barrier that can only be shattered from one side, yet felt by both.
The determination alone allows this unwanted, regretful feeling to dissipate, if only for this moment. It would return should Tonelico go against her own decision, but she won’t.
There’s no way Tonelico would go back on her word. She will face this tomorrow, properly, as the Fairy of Paradise. As Artoria’s lover.
And for tonight, she will indulge herself; letting go of all things burdening her, sharing this special moment with Artoria. This time, truly, it would be the last chance.
It shall make up for all the encounters they will not have in the future, and for those they didn’t have in the past.
“I'm fine.” Tonelico caresses Artoria's cheek, who swallows. The soft, smooth skin feels hot to the touch. “Don't stop.”
‘Let me truly forget everything for just one night, please. Nothing but us should matter until sunrise.’
When Artoria still seems unsure still — her assertiveness is too fickle — Tonelico lowers her voice to a sensual whisper. She lazily runs a finger down Artoria's spine; leaving a tingle in its wake that's so much more potent than any shiver traveling the same path ever could be.
“I'm yours, Artoria. All yours.”
Something about this — Tonelico offering herself up, using this wanton voice, the genuineness of it all, maybe the combination of them all — flips a switch in Artoria.
Self-restraint goes from active to nonexistent in one second flat.
Artoria sees the desire in Tonelico’s glazed eyes, and feels her own overwhelming any remainder of rationality with ease. Whatever seemed to bother Tonelico just a moment ago is nothing but an afterthought now.
Artoria can’t be bothered to worry about that anymore either.
She dips down, sinking her teeth into the delicate spot where Tonelico’s shoulder meets her neck. A soft bite that communicates possession and desire, the willingness to consume whole, unabashedly so. If Tonelico is hers, then Artoria will claim her love all too willingly.
Tonelico bites back a whine, which only motivates Artoria to try harder. To make Tonelico unable to keep her reactions in check; to see this raw side she’d never show, too concerned about being this perfect Fairy of Paradise.
Artoria sucks on the sensitive skin; the salty taste mixes with the faintly sweet scent that's purely Tonelico, intoxicating Artoria further.
When she sees Tonelico covering her mouth with one hand, Artoria pouts. She grabs Tonelico’s hand and pins it down beside her head. Her gaze meets Tonelico’s head-on — no doubt or shame in her eyes. Not a shred of reluctance.
This is the Artoria whose mind is set; any debate is futile.
“Don't keep your voice down.”
Tonelico nods, filled with anticipation. She gasps when Artoria cups her breasts. Her hand twitches, instinctively almost reaching to cover her mouth again before reminding herself to follow Artoria’s whim.
Finally, for what must be the first time in her life, embracing the freedom to openly express herself with no regard for how it would reflect on the Fairy of Paradise. Allowed to be just Tonelico. Her hand clenches into a fist, as if to hold on to a sliver of rationality as the pleasure surges higher steadily.
“Hahh…”
A sigh of bliss escapes Tonelico between hot breaths. Artoria’s small hands are gentle, contrasting with the rough texture of the countless calluses. Feeling them is nice, sending a surge of heat straight to Tonelico’s core, and from there directly to her head, slowly turning her brain to mush.
Thoughts and the capacity to formulate them are gradually replaced by a pleasant warmth.
The way Artoria caresses the soft mounds carries a deep devotion she’d fail to express in words if she tried, and a simple, if somewhat amazed, enjoyment of feeling the soft breasts yield beneath her touch.
Every light squeeze is a foreign experience for Artoria, who’s less blessed in this regard but finds not a single care for such inferiority in this moment.
If anything, her blessing is Tonelico having these supple breasts, just for Artoria to love.
Like a magnetic pull, Artoria’s lips find their way to Tonelico’s breast. Tonelico tenses when Artoria’s breath faintly tickles her skin in between quick kisses. There’s not much time to build anticipation until Artoria lightly bites the nipple, already stiffened by the previous nearby attention.
“Aahh! S-so sudden— Nnmmh…”
Artoria’s lips curl into a smile as Tonelico’s voice reaches her ears, caught off-guard and clearly feeling good. Her teeth graze the sensitive flesh as she suckles on the hardened peak, drawing a long moan out of Tonelico, followed by careless leaks of that sexy voice mixing into the quickening breath.
Tonelico’s right hand moves to the back of Artoria’s head, keeping her in place to continue the stimulation Artoria isn’t planning to stop any soon. Her left hand tries to find purchase on Artoria’s back, unsuccessfully on the smooth skin.
Feeling Tonelico’s nails almost desperately cling to her spurs on Artoria further.
She lets her tongue flick over the tip in between suckling on it; the alternation and partial mix between the two sensations drives Tonelico crazy. Tonelico’s hand grips Artoria’s hair, pulling to signal the need for a break.
But Artoria isn’t deterred.
Contrary to what Tonelico’s overstimulated nervous system begs for, Artoria instead squeezes the neglected breast, rubbing the palm of her hand against the hardened nipple in the process.
“Hyaahh— Wait! Just a— a second, nnhh… Please!”
The desperate, overwhelmed whine is music to Artoria’s ears. Tonelico curses those damn calluses; their rough skin scrapes against her nipple when she least expects it, only to be met with a soft patch of skin where no callus lies the next moment.
Never before has Tonelico felt stimulation so intensely, much less when it comes to her breasts. Artoria’s hands are a force to be reckoned with, drawing a pitch out of Tonelico she hasn’t known she is capable of.
Artoria lets go of Tonelico’s nipple, not before giving it another playful lick. Tonelico shudders at the new sensation. The unexpected but much-needed respite leaves her breathing heavily.
An annoyingly persistent feeling of missing Artoria’s ministrations soon washes over her.
But it’s not as though Artoria is giving Tonelico a break. Slowly but sloppily, she kisses her way down over Tonelico’s stomach — each brushing of Artoria’s soft lips is like a butterfly’s flutter, matching those in Tonelico’s stomach.
She holds her breath in anticipation without noticing, involuntarily spreading her legs as a silent but clear invitation.
Artoria loses no time — her mouth finds Tonelico’s folds with ease, making Tonelico jump at the sudden contact. Forward as ever, though in this situation it’s a first for Artoria. It’s really been too long. Patience has no place here.
‘You’re wet.’
The observation brings a smile to Artoria’s lips, proving how right she’s doing this. But it’s not nearly enough; she needs more. Her tongue darts out to give a slow lick up the slick folds, lapping up the juices for a first proper taste.
A taste that Artoria quickly finds she won’t get enough of. Much better than the experimental little sample she got in the bath back in Orkney.
She grabs Tonelico’s hips to hold her in place before letting her tongue run across Tonelico’s sex. Exploring with great curiosity, taking note of which spots make Tonelico tense up, jump, or even leak out more of her sweet juices for Artoria to lap up.
Mapping out Tonelico’s petals with each stroke of her tongue.
“Hahhh… Mnnh~”
Both of Tonelico’s hands hold onto Artoria’s head, but Artoria pays it no mind. Tonelico may be feeling good already, but Artoria will make her feel even better.
Almost playfully, Artoria licks over Tonelico’s clit. A long, slow lick from bottom to top draws a whine out of Tonelico, and makes her arch her back, pushing her hips up to meet Artoria’s mouth in a desperate plea for more.
Quick flicks with the tip of her tongue from left to right, right to left, make Tonelico’s hips shiver, and her breath catches in her throat, before hot moans leak out of her mouth.
As much as Tonelico tries to gyrate her hips — seeking more friction than Artoria is providing to chase after the pleasure, or desperately trying to escape the stimulation for a break — Artoria’s grip holds her hips perfectly in place.
Defenseless against Artoria’s ministrations, who’s enjoying her buffet of desire at her own pace.
For another change, Artoria lets her tongue circle the hardened, throbbing nub with her tongue. Once, twice. Slowing her pace, increasing Tonelico’s thirst for more.
“Nnnh… Please, just—”
Until she sucks on Tonelico’s clit. The suction and Artoria’s warm mouth feel incredible enough, but Artoria additionally lets her tongue flick over the defenseless nub again. Her jaw is getting sore, but Artoria has no mind to pay such details.
Not when she has Tonelico practically melting for her.
“Hahhh! Wait! N-not there. Not like— not like this! Ahhhnn..!!”
Tonelico’s thighs are shaking. She’s so unbelievably close. Tonelico can feel the pressure in her lower abdomen, all her muscles starting to tense. Every bit of lava that seems to pool inside of her flows to that one point of contact, just waiting to erupt and spread through her entire being.
Her grip on Artoria’s hair tightens, and she pushes her closer against her crotch. This level of stimulation, feeling that sharp canine drag against her skin occasionally, is driving Tonelico crazy; her only chance of not fully losing her sanity is finally reaching the climax that will surely bring her to new heights.
“Hahh, please— Artoria, I’m—”
Luckily for Tonelico, Artoria isn’t in the mood for little games. With fervent ardor previously unknown even to herself, Artoria loses herself entirely in this act of consumption.
“Hyaaaahhhh…!!”
It only takes a few more flicks of her tongue, and Tonelico comes with a beautifully arched back; the hot pleasure pooled in her abdomen spreads through her body in warm, tingly waves.
She absentmindedly thrusts her hips towards Artoria to the best of her limited abilities — riding out this high as Artoria finally slows down.
Artoria pulls away and licks her lips, tasting Tonelico on them. She almost wants to dive back in once more, but when she finally meets Tonelico’s gaze again, the glazed blue eyes magically draw Artoria in. She moves back up to meet Tonelico’s lips in a passionate kiss.
Although initially surprised by the taste of herself on her lips, Tonelico quickly melts into the kiss. It prolongs this blissful, fuzzy feeling in her head, as the waves of warm tingles slowly abate. Nothing could compare to the bliss of this moment that shouldn’t end just yet.
Artoria jumps when Tonelico slightly raises her leg, pushing her thigh against Artoria’s neglected, sopping wet crotch.
“Someone’s got all hot and bothered.”
Even between hot, breathless gasps, Tonelico’s voice manages to carry this amusedly teasing tone. Artoria hates Tonelico for this, and how it always straight up sends butterflies to her stomach. Tonelico is plain unfair.
“Like you’re one to ta—aaahhnn!”
As if waiting for a retort, Tonelico shifts her leg for sweet friction at just the right moment to let Artoria interject her own rebuttal with a shameful moan. This voice is music to Tonelico’s ears; something she can’t get enough of. Artoria is too cute.
“Y-you’re cheati—nnngggh…”
Yet again, even unprompted, Artoria falls into this trap. Like in heat, Artoria can’t help but grind herself against Tonelico’s thigh. Now that Tonelico has started this, Artoria can’t help but chase her own pleasure.
“Quite eager, aren’t y—nnnhh… W-wait, that’s…!”
Two can play this game — so Artoria reaches her hand down between Tonelico’s legs to caress the slick folds with her fingers.
Not that she can manage accuracy, not while shamelessly riding Tonelico’s leg like this; but it seems to work well enough, if Tonelico’s quivers and whimpers are anything to go by.
Maybe if Tonelico hadn’t been such a bully, Artoria would’ve let her rest a bit more to recover from post-orgasm sensitivity. But apparently this isn’t a night for consideration, but one for unabashedly losing oneself in pleasing one’s lover.
Perfectly fine with Artoria.
The night is long; they have all the time to test the limits of their endurance, then go beyond.
Neither of them remembers how long they’d been going at it until they finally fell asleep, fully exhausted and perfectly content. Covered in sweat, zero distance between the two fairies. The blanket only haphazardly thrown over the two of them with half a mind to spare at best; not like either of them remembers who did so.
When Tonelico wakes up, Artoria’s soft breath tickles her nape. Artoria’s arms are wrapped around her waist, holding Tonelico tight. As though if there’s just any chance Tonelico could disappear, Artoria won’t let her go; not even in her sleep.
Tonelico’s heart swells at how much Artoria cherishes her, yet…
“Mmnh…?” Behind Tonelico, Artoria stirs. “C’mon, a few more minutes won’t hurt…”
Her speech is slurred. She’s never been a morning person, even if it’s probably much closer to noon, if not afternoon.
Tonelico fondly thinks back to every single morning they’ve shared. Maybe Tonelico hadn’t appreciated these simple moments enough, not until now. But regret isn’t something she can allow herself to feel at this moment.
“Tonelico?”
Artoria raises an eyebrow. Drowsiness doesn’t dull the unfair Fairy Eyes that will reliably see through any lie, through every wall one tries to build around the truth their heart cries out. There’s no hiding it anymore. Tonelico takes a deep breath.
I'm still alive, by the way - and so far, the new job and workplace are awesome. Zero complaints. Very happy.
However, my leg/feet are fucking killing me and I don't really have it in me to do much in the evening. I'm sure I'll get used to it soon, though! (Probably)
I very much overdid it and now I can't really walk for "too long" distances anymore without pain. Luckily I can rest most of the weekend and procrastinate errands and such for next week (when I'll have recovered, hopefully)
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I bought (yet another) Morgan x Gudako doujinshi - and it comes with two Tonelico x Gudako short stories. (One for rain witch, one for savior respectively)
The two faces of Tonelico (rain witch) - not even a full page between them. Gosh, I just lover her so much. She's so damn cute.
Tonelico (savior) actually transforming Gudako in a gem (as she says she's thinking about in a My Room line) is peak, too.
She's so perfect in every form hnnngggghhh. I feel so motivated to write more fic with Tonelico again!
Being able to read doujinshi is such a blessing. I still don't have full comprehension, but enough for basic understanding and to enjoy such works. Worth all the effort!
Hello, you can ignore this obviously if you want to, but I was wondering if you could help me find this fanfiction? It was a csm one, specifically a Makima x reader fic, I don’t remember all the details, but it was a two part fic, and it’s how makima and reader get together, after makima pretty much realizes, that her powers don’t effect reader. Himeno and reader are also friends in this, and reader is also working for the public safety department. And I also remember reader dying in the second part because of the rat devil, and then reincarnating alongside nayuta 😭😭😭 does anyone know which fic I’m talking about?
Sorry, but I haven't actually read any Makima x Reader fics (besides my own), and recently I haven't read much fanfic at all, so I can't help. :/
But I'm hoping one of my followers might be able to help you out? Make sure to bookmark the fic once you find it again! (And leave the author a nice comment, too!)
Hello, you can ignore this obviously if you want to, but I was wondering if you could help me find this fanfiction? It was a csm one, specifically a Makima x reader fic, I don’t remember all the details, but it was a two part fic, and it’s how makima and reader get together, after makima pretty much realizes, that her powers don’t effect reader. Himeno and reader are also friends in this, and reader is also working for the public safety department. And I also remember reader dying in the second part because of the rat devil, and then reincarnating alongside nayuta 😭😭😭 does anyone know which fic I’m talking about?
Sorry, but I haven't actually read any Makima x Reader fics (besides my own), and recently I haven't read much fanfic at all, so I can't help. :/
But I'm hoping one of my followers might be able to help you out? Make sure to bookmark the fic once you find it again! (And leave the author a nice comment, too!)
Petrichor: First Raindrops ch11 - Tonelico x Castoria (Fate/Grand Order) [Smut]
Content Warnings (whole fic): Non-Con・Major Character Death
Side Pairing: Morgan x Castoria
Part 1 of the Petrichor (Time Loop) series
There's more than one way to prevent someone from becoming a threat - especially for a queen who's grown too indifferent to care about her methods. But what about her past self?
A story in which Castoria meets Tonelico before the tragic fate befell Orkney, and joins the future savior on her pilgrimage - unaware Tonelico is the future queen Morgan.
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Character Study | Hurt/Comfort | Non-Con | Dubious Consent | Conflicted Feelings | Power Imbalance | Coercion | Submission | Captivity | Collars | Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Orgasm Denial | Mild Elements of BDSM | First Time | Time Travel | Temporal Paradox | Time Loop | Amnesia | Training | Sparring (Magi-Match) | Found Family | Rivalry | Slow Burn | Domestic | Domestic Fluff | Bath Sex | Mana Transfer | Cunnilingus | Angst | Emotional Hurt | Doomed Timeline | Doomed Relationship | Doomed Yuri | Self-Sacrifice | Kinda Incest But Not Really | Pseudo-Incest | Castoria is 20 instead of 16 | Tonelico is 19/20 instead of 15/16 | ToneCas fic with 3 chapters of Morgan x Castoria (AO3 won’t distinguish ToneCas and MorCas so take this tag)
Also posted on: AO3
Petrichor series: AO3
-> ★ ToneCas Agenda ★ Discord server <-
<- Previous Chapter
11 - Respite
If it weren’t for most movements causing discomfort at the very least, Tonelico would roll her eyes. This oblivious fool… Artoria would know that mana is found in bodily fluids and can be transferred that way between two individuals if she’d read more books.
Too often did she find Artoria spaced out, or even asleep on top of a tome. Drooling on the precious pages. At least the sight was cute.
“It’s not what you think. Nngh—” Tonelico groans lowly at the pain she feels when she readjusts her position. “You can have some of my mana that way.”
“Really?” Artoria’s face lights up at this easy fix. “Right! Your spit contains mana, so if I… drink it…”
As the realization sinks in, Artoria’s face flushes. Kissing is one thing. Still embarrassing, but something she’s growing comfortable with. But actively drinking another’s saliva? That’s… too lewd. No way Artoria would do that!
… but is there a choice?
Artoria tells herself it’s for Tonelico’s sake. Only so they can get back to the lakeside faster, and rest properly. That’s all. She’s not at all curious about this. Having made her decision quicker than she’d like — a total 180 from her initial reaction — Artoria clears her throat.
“Well, that— that sounds like the most sensible solution. So, if I may…”
Artoria leans in to brush her lips over Tonelico’s. She’s trembling. Nervosity, anticipation, or a mix of the two takes hold of her; but Artoria manages to push them aside.
The little spark generated by the brief touch of their lips provides easily enough motivation for Artoria to keep going.
She tries to ignore that sensation in an attempt to convince herself that this isn’t an intimate gesture for the sake of it, but merely something done for practical reasons. As though believing that would make it easier to pull through.
Artoria shuts her eyes tightly; the last thing she wants to see while she does this is Tonelico’s eyes, in which she can imagine the amusement. The familiar glint saying ‘You’re way too cute’ all too clearly.
‘It’s for Tonelico… Just for Tonelico…’
When Tonelico parts her lips, Artoria’s tongue reluctantly enters her mouth. Artoria cups Tonelico’s face to steady herself — emotionally more than physically — as her tongue tentatively explores Tonelico’s mouth. Rubbing her tongue over Tonelico’s, Artoria finds herself surprised at how rough a texture a tongue turns out to have.
Even more surprisingly, the contact feels awfully good.
Each brush of her tongue against Tonelico’s sends a warm shiver down Artoria’s spine, delicately and slowly. A faint tingle, barely noticeable, appears to spread throughout her body, encompassing every single nerve ending, whenever this pleasant shiver makes its way downwards.
It becomes addictive quickly.
Artoria feels her entire being grow warmer by the second; like the comfort of a campfire that risks turning into an all-consuming blaze if careless.
These embers, fueled by each almost-leak of Tonelico’s voice that catches in Artoria’s throat, flush any second guesses out of her mind, along with other thoughts she may have been able to form if not for the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Until Tonelico’s tug at her sleeve reminds Artoria why she’s doing this. Her face grows steaming hot at the realization of how quickly she’s lost herself to those pleasurable sensations and forgotten the important part. The whole reason they’re doing this.
More composed — and ashamed — than before, Artoria now focuses on recharging her mana rather than on Tonelico’s addictive being.
Any bit of saliva Artoria finds in Tonelico’s mouth, she laps up. The subtle taste of iron doesn’t go unnoticed. It reminds Artoria of the blood Tonelico has coughed up. As if to soothe wounds that aren’t found here, Artoria tenderly runs her tongue over every centimeter in Tonelico’s mouth.
She’ll clean up all the blood and its remainders from the inside of Tonelico’s mouth.
It doesn’t take much for Artoria to feel her mana levels rise, once she pays attention to it. With how much Tonelico appears to have to spare — thanks to the bells she’s rung — this method is more than efficient, despite the concurrent distraction of building arousal.
An all too delicious drawback to the practicality.
Artoria’s hand finds its way back to Tonelico’s side, casting a healing spell sustained by the mana she drains directly from the spell’s target. It takes an incredible amount of concentration to simultaneously heal injuries as severe as those Tonelico suffered from the battle against the calamity while recharging in this manner. But Artoria manages.
Some flicks of her tongue against Tonelico’s seem to work like a charm; making Tonelico involuntarily salivate. More fuel for Artoria.
Artoria soon finds a rhythm that comes to her easily, leaving her in a trance as she occasionally sucks on Tonelico’s tongue, continuously lapping up the mana-filled liquid that’s long since lost the taste of iron. Cleansed by Artoria’s meticulous efforts; not that they are entirely altruistic.
Eventually, after a moment in which time has lost all meaning, Artoria pulls away. Her breath is hot and labored, and so is Tonelico’s, whose cheeks have taken on a rosy-red color.
Half-closed eyes with the faintest hint of a tear at the corner, the crystal blue pupils focused intently on Artoria, yet not fully present in the current moment. Lost in the all-consuming distraction of primal desire.
The mere sight gives Artoria the urge to crash her lips down against Tonelico’s once more — to ravage her right here, right now.
Thankfully, a moment of clarity allows her to reconsider. Artoria clears her throat before losing herself to primal instincts she hasn’t even been fully aware she possesses. Especially not to this degree. She’ll blame this corruption of herself on Morgan.
“Thanks.” Tonelico’s voice is raspy. She clears her throat, allowing her mind to find its way back to their present situation.
“Sure. Anytime.”
‘Stupid… Idiot… Why did I say that!?’
“We should get moving.”
Artoria helps Tonelico up, despite her own legs being a bit wobbly by now. It takes a few steps, the clear air of the forest, and a moment of silence penetrated only by the soft rustling of leaves on their way, to recover mentally and allow the strength to come back to their limbs fully.
Not that the stoked embers inside of the two fairies would cool down any soon, though. Merely smolder, waiting for the next spark to reignite the fire.
Once the lakeside comes into view, Tonelico and Artoria relax. This is their safe haven — for now — where other fairies wouldn’t find them. Not with Tonelico casting a barrier around the area, making sure to keep every living being outside and grant the two a much needed and well-deserved breather.
Tonelico looks at Artoria, only to avert her gaze quickly once she recounts the all too passionate kiss they’ve shared mere moments ago at the sight of Artoria’s lips, smudged blood clinging to them. She feels as though she can still taste them on hers.
It was a surprise to see Artoria so forward, so lost in whatever came over her — but a very welcome one. Stirring feelings in Tonelico that make her wish to see more of this side of Artoria that she’s never noticed. While she still has the chance.
Though with how Artoria very intently avoids meeting Tonelico’s eyes, fiddling around with her hair, this assertiveness is gone by now. Perhaps it requires the right push. Back in Orkney, in the bath, it was similar, after all.
But that’s nothing to dwell on right now. That’s a matter for later.
“These really need to be cleaned,” Tonelico says to herself after a quick look at her clothes.
It doesn’t take much of an assessment for that conclusion. Dried blood seeped into the white fabric, dyeing it dark red in multiple places. A grim reminder of injuries sustained, of a battle that may have gone awry with fatal consequences had things gone differently. Had Artoria not stepped in.
“Same here.”
Not as sullied by blood — mostly Tonelico’s — but Artoria’s clothes are in a similar state. With that and the accumulated sweat of travel, the lake provides too convenient an opportunity for washing their clothes to pass it up. It doesn’t require any further consideration.
Tonelico removes her garments, one by one. The glances Artoria tries to steal aren’t as sneaky as she hopes. It brings a smile to Tonelico’s face.
Artoria is plain adorable, trying to hide what Fairy Eyes would see through easily. Not that Tonelico blames her. Wanting to look at the body of the one you love is only natural, after all. Wishing to touch it even more so.
“What are you waiting for?”
The amused smile carries into Tonelico’s voice, a light chime that reaches Artoria’s ears. Her face flushes upon being clearly caught in the act of ogling the undressing Tonelico. If only Tonelico were less observant, or at the very least didn’t let the endearment show. It’s absolutely on purpose, Artoria is sure of that. Only to fluster her further.
“N-nothing.”
Artoria follows suit and undresses, almost tripping over her own feet when she removes the black leggings. Together with Tonelico, Artoria places the garments into the lake. Instinctively, Artoria covers her chest with her arm, the other shielding her privates from view. Not that anyone but herself or Tonelico is here, so she knows it shouldn’t bother her, but…
‘How can she be so calm and unabashed? Must be nice, having such a body…’
That sulky pout isn’t new. Tonelico can tell what goes through her silly companion’s head, but she won’t comment on the envy sparked by the apparent inferiority complex. Instead, she takes her staff and casts a spell that would use the lake’s water to thoroughly clean the fabric of all that should not be there — blood, dirt, and sweat, among other particles.
While Tonelico uses magecraft to wash their clothes, Artoria retrieves a blanket from their shared frugal luggage and sits down on it near the shore, hugging her legs to her chest. There’s nothing for her to do after all.
It’s not that she’d prefer to keep Tonelico in her view, or so Artoria tells herself.
“Don’t you think you abuse your magecraft sometimes?”
‘Must be nice being able to do everything with a quick spell instead of by hand.’
Tonelico chuckles.
“I’m a witch after all. Isn’t that to be expected?”
Artoria rolls her eyes. She has no words for this fairy sometimes.
“Hm? What’s this?”
From a pocket in Artoria’s dress, Tonelico pulls out an object she hadn’t expected to ever see again: her glasses. The lenses are smudged, but otherwise they’re in perfect condition. Tonelico holds the glasses in her hand.
The nostalgia of familiarity washes over her; for a moment she feels as though she’s back in Orkney. When her life knew less pain and her days were spent in her study, more recently most of them with Artoria.
“… you kept them?”
“Ah… Yeah.” Artoria pulls her knees close. “You threw them away, but I— I couldn’t leave them behind like that.”
“Why?” Tonelico’s thumb brushes over the cold, flat surface of the lens.
“They’re a part of you. Of the old you.” Artoria nervously chews on her lip. “I thought— Well, when you threw them away, I was afraid that you’d be gone. You were different after… after that happened.”
“I see.”
With a swing of her staff, Tonelico materializes a magical string between the branches of two trees and swings it again to let the clothes find their way onto it to dry. It would be faster to dry them with a different spell instantly, but they aren’t short on time.
Rather, Tonelico wants to make the most of the time she has with Artoria while she can. This is better done without clothes.
“I missed the old you,” Artoria mutters.
Tonelico takes a cloth, soaks it in the lake’s clear water, and then warms it. When she joins Artoria on the blanket, she gently wipes off her own blood from Artoria’s lips and hands. A more proper bath can wait for later.
Artoria returns the gesture, careful to not put too much pressure on places that might still be sore. With Tonelico’s magecraft, even using a lake to wash up isn’t accompanied by cold discomfort.
Once they’re cleaned up, the cloth is discarded to the side. Washing it can be done tomorrow, it’s not that important. Not as important as what Artoria said just a moment ago.
Tonelico retrieves a handkerchief from their small luggage and wipes the glasses properly clean, with no smudges that would impair her vision left, before she puts on her glasses again — for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
“You sure are careless, aren’t you?” Tonelico’s smile is warm and gentle as her crystal blue eyes look at Artoria’s emerald green through the lenses. “All those smudges. I’d see better without the glasses at that point.”
“I tried my best! How do you even get them so perfectly clean just like that? Must’ve been a spell, too.”
Artoria pouts. But the relief and happiness at seeing the Tonelico she originally fell in love with again, just the same as back then, makes her heart melt.
Tonelico is Tonelico, no matter what. But those round glasses simply make her even more Tonelico. A feeling that cannot make sense by logic, but Artoria’s heart understands this as irrefutable truth.
“It only takes practice.” Tonelico leans against Artoria, then rests her head on Artoria’s shoulder. “Although I really don’t need them anymore.”
“Isn’t it better to wear glasses if your eyesight is bad? Or did you correct them with some spell?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m only a little farsighted. It’s straining to look at very near things for long periods, so I needed glasses to read without a headache. That’s all.”
Artoria already knew that Tonelico’s eyesight isn’t that bad. But hearing it from Tonelico herself is a confirmation that stings. Tonelico doesn’t have to add that reading is a pleasure not granted to her anymore.
She hardly has the time to delve into books, and by the looks of Orkney’s castle on that fateful day, the entire library must’ve burned down to ashes anyway, so she has no books left to read either.
Artoria wishes that someday, Tonelico can lose herself in countless words written on pages once more. Truly be who she is, not what she needs to be.
“I see.”
Artoria leans her head on Tonelico’s. There is a faint breeze, though it doesn’t feel cold, even as exposed as the two of them sit there at the lake. A moment of true peace, tranquility. Shared quiet proximity between the two Fairies of Paradise who take in each other’s company.
Until the sun starts to set, and they realize they have yet to make camp.
Although neither wants to separate just yet, instead bask in the warmth of each other’s body heat for what could be an eternity, they know this shouldn’t be put off further.
With coordinated teamwork, they get their modest tent set, and a small campfire started within no time. The blanket finds its place on the ground inside the tent that shields them from the weather, and another blanket is added to disappear under for the night later.
“It took way too long to get this stuff,” Artoria laments with a sigh. The fact that they originally started the pilgrimage with nothing but the clothes they’ve worn at the time fills her with dread.
“I miss sleeping under the stars sometimes, though.”
“You can always just leave the tent to me. I wouldn’t complain about more space.”
Artoria sticks out her tongue, though it doesn’t take long for her to eat her words and regret the cocky suggestion.
“Wouldn’t you get lonely all alone at night?” Tonelico leans closer, until her breath tickles Artoria’s ear. “I, for one, can’t wait to hold you in my arms tonight, but if you’d prefer to sleep alone…”
“N-no, that’s— I mean—”
Artoria’s head is spinning at the insinuation. Clearly, clearly, Tonelico is implying something here. It doesn’t take more than this to stoke the embers from their earlier passionate kiss, starting the fire inside of Artoria’s core back up.
She can tell Tonelico feels the same.
“Now, what will it be?” Tonelico asks, standing at the tent’s entrance.
She knows the answer. Tonelico is acutely aware of Artoria’s eyes wandering over her naked form; the envy that usually flares up upon the sight having no chance against the desire that’s already burning Artoria up inside.
If seeing the one you love longing for your body is arousing, then Fairy Eyes can only amplify this effect.
Artoria’s mouth won’t cooperate, so she simply disappears into the tent and pulls Tonelico after her. Tonelico lands on top of the two blankets, surprised by the sudden action, and by Artoria on top of her, leaning down until their noses nearly touch.
“You don’t need to ask,” Artoria mutters. She’d never choose to sleep alone if having Tonelico with her is an option.
“I know.”
Tonelico smiles, before crossing the distance to meet Artoria’s lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. Her arms wrap around Artoria to hold her close.
The lack of clothes is convenient and appreciated; Tonelico loses no time before letting her hands roam over Artoria’s back. The smooth surface is almost hot to the touch, a clear indication of the fairy’s state. Not that Tonelico fares any better.
“It’s been too long,” Tonelico mutters against Artoria’s lips as she pulls away for a moment.
“Yeah…”
Way too long, in fact. So much time has passed since the downfall of Orkney, since the time they’ve gotten intimate with each other in the bath. Tonelico hadn’t asked for permission then, though Artoria didn’t mind.
Only by now does Artoria know why: She’s loved Tonelico ever since then.
At the time, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but once it became clear over the course of the pilgrimage, all the pieces fell into place. A life without Tonelico feels utterly wrong. Empty.
Artoria wants Tonelico — all of her. A feeling akin to hunger wells up inside of Artoria, and she closes their distance once more.
In no time at all, Artoria grows uncharacteristically bold. As though there’s no room for thought, consideration, or patience in her mind; Artoria only follows the overwhelming intuitive feeling Tonelico stirs inside of her.
If there be shame and regret, that’s of no concern now.
This carelessly passionate desire is a flavor of pleasure Tonelico has yet to taste. She feels Artoria’s sharp canine drag across her lip, making her wonder how it would feel to be bitten.
The sweet pain mixing with the heat is what Tonelico can only imagine enhancing this encounter further.
If only because it would feel perfectly like Artoria to do so.
“Nnnh—”
Tonelico’s startled voice leaks out when the small canine comes dangerously close to breaking skin. The sudden reaction makes Artoria pause and pull away, glad to see no wound. She brushes her thumb over Tonelico’s bottom lip, assessing the invisible damage and expressing a gentle apology.
“Sorry,” Artoria mumbles. “Does it hurt?”
The tender worry with which Artoria gazes at her makes Tonelico’s heart swell; it feels as though it could choke her with guilt.
A feeling that threatens to overcome Tonelico any moment should she not try her hardest to swallow it whole; unable to fully erase it from existence. Artoria cares so much about her in the smallest ways, and here Tonelico lies, keeping secrets still.
Artoria deserves better. She, at the very least, deserves to know. There’s a limit to how much time you can buy.
At this moment, Tonelico makes up her mind. Tomorrow, she will tell Artoria everything. What it means to be a Fairy of Paradise, and what fate awaits them and Britain.
Ignorance may be bliss, and it would be so much easier not to share the harsh truth. But Tonelico doesn't want to lie to Artoria any longer. She’s promised to share her plans with Artoria once she’s certain.
This feeling of guilt shall no longer separate their hearts like a barrier that can only be shattered from one side, yet felt by both.
The determination alone allows this unwanted, regretful feeling to dissipate, if only for this moment. It would return should Tonelico go against her own decision, but she won’t.
There’s no way Tonelico would go back on her word. She will face this tomorrow, properly, as the Fairy of Paradise. As Artoria’s lover.
And for tonight, she will indulge herself; letting go of all things burdening her, sharing this special moment with Artoria. This time, truly, it would be the last chance.
It shall make up for all the encounters they will not have in the future, and for those they didn’t have in the past.
“I'm fine.” Tonelico caresses Artoria's cheek, who swallows. The soft, smooth skin feels hot to the touch. “Don't stop.”
‘Let me truly forget everything for just one night, please. Nothing but us should matter until sunrise.’
When Artoria still seems unsure still — her assertiveness is too fickle — Tonelico lowers her voice to a sensual whisper. She lazily runs a finger down Artoria's spine; leaving a tingle in its wake that's so much more potent than any shiver traveling the same path ever could be.
“I'm yours, Artoria. All yours.”
Something about this — Tonelico offering herself up, using this wanton voice, the genuineness of it all, maybe the combination of them all — flips a switch in Artoria.
Self-restraint goes from active to nonexistent in one second flat.
Artoria sees the desire in Tonelico’s glazed eyes, and feels her own overwhelming any remainder of rationality with ease. Whatever seemed to bother Tonelico just a moment ago is nothing but an afterthought now.
Artoria can’t be bothered to worry about that anymore either.
She dips down, sinking her teeth into the delicate spot where Tonelico’s shoulder meets her neck. A soft bite that communicates possession and desire, the willingness to consume whole, unabashedly so. If Tonelico is hers, then Artoria will claim her love all too willingly.
Tonelico bites back a whine, which only motivates Artoria to try harder. To make Tonelico unable to keep her reactions in check; to see this raw side she’d never show, too concerned about being this perfect Fairy of Paradise.
Artoria sucks on the sensitive skin; the salty taste mixes with the faintly sweet scent that's purely Tonelico, intoxicating Artoria further.
When she sees Tonelico covering her mouth with one hand, Artoria pouts. She grabs Tonelico’s hand and pins it down beside her head. Her gaze meets Tonelico’s head-on — no doubt or shame in her eyes. Not a shred of reluctance.
This is the Artoria whose mind is set; any debate is futile.
“Don't keep your voice down.”
Tonelico nods, filled with anticipation. She gasps when Artoria cups her breasts. Her hand twitches, instinctively almost reaching to cover her mouth again before reminding herself to follow Artoria’s whim.
Finally, for what must be the first time in her life, embracing the freedom to openly express herself with no regard for how it would reflect on the Fairy of Paradise. Allowed to be just Tonelico. Her hand clenches into a fist, as if to hold on to a sliver of rationality as the pleasure surges higher steadily.
“Hahh…”
A sigh of bliss escapes Tonelico between hot breaths. Artoria’s small hands are gentle, contrasting with the rough texture of the countless calluses. Feeling them is nice, sending a surge of heat straight to Tonelico’s core, and from there directly to her head, slowly turning her brain to mush.
Thoughts and the capacity to formulate them are gradually replaced by a pleasant warmth.
The way Artoria caresses the soft mounds carries a deep devotion she’d fail to express in words if she tried, and a simple, if somewhat amazed, enjoyment of feeling the soft breasts yield beneath her touch.
Every light squeeze is a foreign experience for Artoria, who’s less blessed in this regard but finds not a single care for such inferiority in this moment.
If anything, her blessing is Tonelico having these supple breasts, just for Artoria to love.
Like a magnetic pull, Artoria’s lips find their way to Tonelico’s breast. Tonelico tenses when Artoria’s breath faintly tickles her skin in between quick kisses. There’s not much time to build anticipation until Artoria lightly bites the nipple, already stiffened by the previous nearby attention.
“Aahh! S-so sudden— Nnmmh…”
Artoria’s lips curl into a smile as Tonelico’s voice reaches her ears, caught off-guard and clearly feeling good. Her teeth graze the sensitive flesh as she suckles on the hardened peak, drawing a long moan out of Tonelico, followed by careless leaks of that sexy voice mixing into the quickening breath.
Tonelico’s right hand moves to the back of Artoria’s head, keeping her in place to continue the stimulation Artoria isn’t planning to stop any soon. Her left hand tries to find purchase on Artoria’s back, unsuccessfully on the smooth skin.
Feeling Tonelico’s nails almost desperately cling to her spurs on Artoria further.
She lets her tongue flick over the tip in between suckling on it; the alternation and partial mix between the two sensations drives Tonelico crazy. Tonelico’s hand grips Artoria’s hair, pulling to signal the need for a break.
But Artoria isn’t deterred.
Contrary to what Tonelico’s overstimulated nervous system begs for, Artoria instead squeezes the neglected breast, rubbing the palm of her hand against the hardened nipple in the process.
“Hyaahh— Wait! Just a— a second, nnhh… Please!”
The desperate, overwhelmed whine is music to Artoria’s ears. Tonelico curses those damn calluses; their rough skin scrapes against her nipple when she least expects it, only to be met with a soft patch of skin where no callus lies the next moment.
Never before has Tonelico felt stimulation so intensely, much less when it comes to her breasts. Artoria’s hands are a force to be reckoned with, drawing a pitch out of Tonelico she hasn’t known she is capable of.
Artoria lets go of Tonelico’s nipple, not before giving it another playful lick. Tonelico shudders at the new sensation. The unexpected but much-needed respite leaves her breathing heavily.
An annoyingly persistent feeling of missing Artoria’s ministrations soon washes over her.
But it’s not as though Artoria is giving Tonelico a break. Slowly but sloppily, she kisses her way down over Tonelico’s stomach — each brushing of Artoria’s soft lips is like a butterfly’s flutter, matching those in Tonelico’s stomach.
She holds her breath in anticipation without noticing, involuntarily spreading her legs as a silent but clear invitation.
Artoria loses no time — her mouth finds Tonelico’s folds with ease, making Tonelico jump at the sudden contact. Forward as ever, though in this situation it’s a first for Artoria. It’s really been too long. Patience has no place here.
‘You’re wet.’
The observation brings a smile to Artoria’s lips, proving how right she’s doing this. But it’s not nearly enough; she needs more. Her tongue darts out to give a slow lick up the slick folds, lapping up the juices for a first proper taste.
A taste that Artoria quickly finds she won’t get enough of. Much better than the experimental little sample she got in the bath back in Orkney.
She grabs Tonelico’s hips to hold her in place before letting her tongue run across Tonelico’s sex. Exploring with great curiosity, taking note of which spots make Tonelico tense up, jump, or even leak out more of her sweet juices for Artoria to lap up.
Mapping out Tonelico’s petals with each stroke of her tongue.
“Hahhh… Mnnh~”
Both of Tonelico’s hands hold onto Artoria’s head, but Artoria pays it no mind. Tonelico may be feeling good already, but Artoria will make her feel even better.
Almost playfully, Artoria licks over Tonelico’s clit. A long, slow lick from bottom to top draws a whine out of Tonelico, and makes her arch her back, pushing her hips up to meet Artoria’s mouth in a desperate plea for more.
Quick flicks with the tip of her tongue from left to right, right to left, make Tonelico’s hips shiver, and her breath catches in her throat, before hot moans leak out of her mouth.
As much as Tonelico tries to gyrate her hips — seeking more friction than Artoria is providing to chase after the pleasure, or desperately trying to escape the stimulation for a break — Artoria’s grip holds her hips perfectly in place.
Defenseless against Artoria’s ministrations, who’s enjoying her buffet of desire at her own pace.
For another change, Artoria lets her tongue circle the hardened, throbbing nub with her tongue. Once, twice. Slowing her pace, increasing Tonelico’s thirst for more.
“Nnnh… Please, just—”
Until she sucks on Tonelico’s clit. The suction and Artoria’s warm mouth feel incredible enough, but Artoria additionally lets her tongue flick over the defenseless nub again. Her jaw is getting sore, but Artoria has no mind to pay such details.
Not when she has Tonelico practically melting for her.
“Hahhh! Wait! N-not there. Not like— not like this! Ahhhnn..!!”
Tonelico’s thighs are shaking. She’s so unbelievably close. Tonelico can feel the pressure in her lower abdomen, all her muscles starting to tense. Every bit of lava that seems to pool inside of her flows to that one point of contact, just waiting to erupt and spread through her entire being.
Her grip on Artoria’s hair tightens, and she pushes her closer against her crotch. This level of stimulation, feeling that sharp canine drag against her skin occasionally, is driving Tonelico crazy; her only chance of not fully losing her sanity is finally reaching the climax that will surely bring her to new heights.
“Hahh, please— Artoria, I’m—”
Luckily for Tonelico, Artoria isn’t in the mood for little games. With fervent ardor previously unknown even to herself, Artoria loses herself entirely in this act of consumption.
“Hyaaaahhhh…!!”
It only takes a few more flicks of her tongue, and Tonelico comes with a beautifully arched back; the hot pleasure pooled in her abdomen spreads through her body in warm, tingly waves.
She absentmindedly thrusts her hips towards Artoria to the best of her limited abilities — riding out this high as Artoria finally slows down.
Artoria pulls away and licks her lips, tasting Tonelico on them. She almost wants to dive back in once more, but when she finally meets Tonelico’s gaze again, the glazed blue eyes magically draw Artoria in. She moves back up to meet Tonelico’s lips in a passionate kiss.
Although initially surprised by the taste of herself on her lips, Tonelico quickly melts into the kiss. It prolongs this blissful, fuzzy feeling in her head, as the waves of warm tingles slowly abate. Nothing could compare to the bliss of this moment that shouldn’t end just yet.
Artoria jumps when Tonelico slightly raises her leg, pushing her thigh against Artoria’s neglected, sopping wet crotch.
“Someone’s got all hot and bothered.”
Even between hot, breathless gasps, Tonelico’s voice manages to carry this amusedly teasing tone. Artoria hates Tonelico for this, and how it always straight up sends butterflies to her stomach. Tonelico is plain unfair.
“Like you’re one to ta—aaahhnn!”
As if waiting for a retort, Tonelico shifts her leg for sweet friction at just the right moment to let Artoria interject her own rebuttal with a shameful moan. This voice is music to Tonelico’s ears; something she can’t get enough of. Artoria is too cute.
“Y-you’re cheati—nnngggh…”
Yet again, even unprompted, Artoria falls into this trap. Like in heat, Artoria can’t help but grind herself against Tonelico’s thigh. Now that Tonelico has started this, Artoria can’t help but chase her own pleasure.
“Quite eager, aren’t y—nnnhh… W-wait, that’s…!”
Two can play this game — so Artoria reaches her hand down between Tonelico’s legs to caress the slick folds with her fingers.
Not that she can manage accuracy, not while shamelessly riding Tonelico’s leg like this; but it seems to work well enough, if Tonelico’s quivers and whimpers are anything to go by.
Maybe if Tonelico hadn’t been such a bully, Artoria would’ve let her rest a bit more to recover from post-orgasm sensitivity. But apparently this isn’t a night for consideration, but one for unabashedly losing oneself in pleasing one’s lover.
Perfectly fine with Artoria.
The night is long; they have all the time to test the limits of their endurance, then go beyond.
Neither of them remembers how long they’d been going at it until they finally fell asleep, fully exhausted and perfectly content. Covered in sweat, zero distance between the two fairies. The blanket only haphazardly thrown over the two of them with half a mind to spare at best; not like either of them remembers who did so.
When Tonelico wakes up, Artoria’s soft breath tickles her nape. Artoria’s arms are wrapped around her waist, holding Tonelico tight. As though if there’s just any chance Tonelico could disappear, Artoria won’t let her go; not even in her sleep.
Tonelico’s heart swells at how much Artoria cherishes her, yet…
“Mmnh…?” Behind Tonelico, Artoria stirs. “C’mon, a few more minutes won’t hurt…”
Her speech is slurred. She’s never been a morning person, even if it’s probably much closer to noon, if not afternoon.
Tonelico fondly thinks back to every single morning they’ve shared. Maybe Tonelico hadn’t appreciated these simple moments enough, not until now. But regret isn’t something she can allow herself to feel at this moment.
“Tonelico?”
Artoria raises an eyebrow. Drowsiness doesn’t dull the unfair Fairy Eyes that will reliably see through any lie, through every wall one tries to build around the truth their heart cries out. There’s no hiding it anymore. Tonelico takes a deep breath.
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Recently - when I played Fire Emblem Fates - I realized (and remembered) just how much fun a hobby can be if you just enjoy it for yourself.
Not discussing it with others (where you'd ALWAYS run into someone with an attitude, opinion, etc. that will sour your experience), not looking at whatever the fandom online on any particular side is doing. Being entirely unaware about discussions, controversies, and all other things that aren't just prevalent in fandom, but sometimes feel like the only thing you see.
It feels as though the ONE way to actually enjoy these things fully is to just enjoy them alone.
I'm still alive, by the way - and so far, the new job and workplace are awesome. Zero complaints. Very happy.
However, my leg/feet are fucking killing me and I don't really have it in me to do much in the evening. I'm sure I'll get used to it soon, though! (Probably)
In my plans, I had reserved this evening for writing since I start the new job next week (tomorrow) and I wanted to get into a bit of a "write a bit every evening at least" habit.
However, period cramps struck. I'm not in bad pain ever (luckily), but it's such a distracting (minor) inconvenience that I just cannot enjoy a single thing, much less focus properly without getting annoyed at god's misogyny (I cannot explain the existence of period cramps any other way). I'm mostly kidding about the last part
Then I took a nap hoping that'll give pain killers the time to kick in and overall this just fucked my whole evening. I'm fine (for) now, but it's already later than it should be, and I got nothing besides dinner done after the nap.
Fml I guess. I'll go sleep. I'll try again tomorrow.
So I also very recently got a 3DS with built in capture card, and I wanted to do some test recording, so I went for a quick shiny hunt and grabbed a shiny Feebas in Omega Ruby. (Chain fishing, about 70 encounters, no shiny charm)
It's my Japanese Omega Ruby game simply because it was the gen 6 game with the most convenient save file for a quick shiny hunt. (I have some Japanese Pokémon games because I play them to practice reading Japanese)
... no, I don't have any aspirations of becoming an influencer, content creator, or any other type of person who makes internet videos to try and ride the algorithm into hits that eventually translate into money. Generally speaking, I have zero interest in turning any hobby (or passion) of mine into money in any way.
Not for any "morally superior" reasoning. I just don't like the pressure that comes with the idea of turning something into a job (and yes, for me anything I do that gets me paid feels like a job). It takes away the carefree freedom of me doing what I feel like the way I want, because I can't help but have thoughts of what I should and shouldn't do/focus on for the audience in mind.
That'd suck the fun out of it. I just couldn't do it.
But I really freaking love recording gameplay and taking screenshots of games I play for the sake of memories of certain moments, and for convenience of showing them to friends and such. And it also feels best for me to play on original hardware. So, another youth dream fulfilled - I can now play on an NDS or a 3DS and stream the footage directly to my PC for recording.
Sometimes I stop and think how crazy it is what kind of things seem normal or logical to me due to my rather messed up upbringing; I'm sure these things would sound outlandish to others.
My sister told me today how she's been talking very openly about how she's putting money in her piggy bank, and how much it is... to bait our mother into stealing it, to confirm whether or not she still steals from her kids. (We both know she does, we just don't have very solid evidence of it)
And just... look, you probably thought "What the fuck?" or something along the lines, right? When she told me, I just went "Makes sense." No need to question it. It only sounds silly to me because I don't need further confirmation of that.
I also know that it's been some years now since I was the hated relative for my grandparents, so it's more likely than not to come up eventually, too. I'm not bothered or worried about it. It's not like whatever I do would change a thing because it's nothing I could trigger or avoid triggering (like in a video game), it just so happens. They wake up one day and hate someone, or they wake up one day and like someone.
Can't predict it because there's no sense or pattern to it. They'll talk you into one thing, and one day they suddenly hold the exact opposite opinion. You can't win, so it doesn't make any sense to try.
To me, it's just normal that this is how my family works, and I know it's not how people generally work (luckily). And it's something that's a little dificult to talk about because people usually try to make sense of this behavior, or try to reason or even justify it. Anything to make it make sense because there's some comfort in that.
I know, because in my youth I did the same thing. Thought maybe it's just a misunderstanding, maybe I actually did something wrong, possibly it's just a bad day, perhaps there is something going on... but nope. It takes some years for it to sink in - was that way for me, was the same for my sister - but eventually you realize that some people just are like that.
They're not going to change, try as you might. You can't avoid the conflicts because it doesn't matter what you do, they'll pick fights when they feel like it. All you can do is disengage, and try to find ways to deal with it that don't drag you down.
For the record: I'm fine. I'm genuinely not bothered by this anymore; I worked through all this mess both in therapy and by myself years ago. It's a minor inconvenience at best, as I'm not reliant on my family anymore in any way. But eh, talking about this once in a while helps keeping it a minor inconvenience rather than a bother, so a post like this goes a long way.
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Petrichor: First Raindrops ch10 - Tonelico x Castoria (Fate/Grand Order)
Content Warnings (whole fic): Non-Con・Major Character Death
Side Pairing: Morgan x Castoria
Part 1 of the Petrichor (Time Loop) series
There's more than one way to prevent someone from becoming a threat - especially for a queen who's grown too indifferent to care about her methods. But what about her past self?
A story in which Castoria meets Tonelico before the tragic fate befell Orkney, and joins the future savior on her pilgrimage - unaware Tonelico is the future queen Morgan.
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Character Study | Hurt/Comfort | Non-Con | Dubious Consent | Conflicted Feelings | Power Imbalance | Coercion | Submission | Captivity | Collars | Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Orgasm Denial | Mild Elements of BDSM | First Time | Time Travel | Temporal Paradox | Time Loop | Amnesia | Training | Sparring (Magi-Match) | Found Family | Rivalry | Slow Burn | Domestic | Domestic Fluff | Bath Sex | Mana Transfer | Cunnilingus | Angst | Emotional Hurt | Doomed Timeline | Doomed Relationship | Doomed Yuri | Self-Sacrifice | Kinda Incest But Not Really | Pseudo-Incest | Castoria is 20 instead of 16 | Tonelico is 19/20 instead of 15/16 | ToneCas fic with 3 chapters of Morgan x Castoria (AO3 won’t distinguish ToneCas and MorCas so take this tag)
Also posted on: AO3 | Sunset Femslash
Petrichor series: AO3 | Sunset Femslash
-> ★ ToneCas Agenda ★ Discord server <-
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10 - Calamity
Near a lake, Artoria stands at the shoreline, a couple of flat pebbles in her left hand. Without noticing, she sticks out her tongue a little, as though that could help her focus, and throws one of the stones at the water’s surface.
“One… two… Aww, come on!”
Artoria pouts. She glares at the spot where the pebble submerged itself after skipping only twice. Her record is five skips; not that she’s managed to hit it today. It must be these pebbles that are broken somehow, or this lake is cursed.
She picks another stone — flatter than the last, almost triangle-shaped, with round edges. With all the force of frustration, Artoria throws the poor pebble at the water’s surface, counting with amazement as it skips.
Artoria wouldn’t believe it if she didn’t see it herself; her eyes sparkle in amazement at this entirely useless skill she’s developing. With child-like enthusiasm — her frustrated anger disappeared once success kicked in once — she throws stone after stone.
Though they never skip more than twice at best, most no more than once.
Once Artoria has run out of stones, she leans down to pick up a new one, hardly minding its shape or size. She gets set for the throw, tongue darting out a little—
When out of nowhere, two hands cover Artoria’s eyes. The pebble drops out of her hand, making a little splosh sound when it breaks the water’s surface.
“You ruined my throw!”
“Sorry, sorry.”
Tonelico removes her hands, and Artoria turns around to face her with a highly irritated glare. If not for the adorable pout, Tonelico would regret disturbing Artoria’s concentration.
But this face is worth the mild ire.
Tonelico pulls Artoria in for a kiss, which Artoria returns. Artoria’s expression softens once Tonelico pulls away; the rosy cheeks are a more than equivalent replacement for the pout.
“I’m still mad.” Kissing Tonelico is nice, but it doesn’t make up for a messed up stone skip.
“I didn’t know you’ve gotten that much into this new hobby.”
After taking a few steps along the shoreline, Tonelico takes up a pebble of her own. She’s seen Artoria skip stones the last few times they’ve been near a body of water. Never tried it herself; her pleasure has been Artoria’s adorable complaints about the water being broken, or the stones refusing to skip just to spite her.
So irrational, and she knows Artoria is perfectly aware of that herself.
“Mind if I give it a try?”
Artoria’s expression immediately sours. She’s just celebrated her newest stone skipping record today, and now Tonelico wants to skip stones, too?
It’s Tonelico, this annoyingly gifted genius of a fairy. If it’s her, the stone probably skips at least fifty times right away. The mere idea annoys Artoria to no end, and she sets her mind on practicing until she’ll skip at least a hundred times, if not more.
“Sure, go ahead.”
She can’t hide her irritation and brooding competitiveness from Tonelico either way, thanks to Fairy Eyes. It feels even more liberating to clearly put it all into her intonation as well. Not that Tonelico minds.
So far, there’s been nothing about Artoria that Tonelico hates. No matter what, the worst feeling Tonelico ever directed at Artoria was some variation of annoyance, maybe a bit of disappointment.
It’s comforting to be by the side of someone who whole-heartedly accepts you.
Artoria feels the same way about Tonelico. She can be so infuriating sometimes, with how perfect and flawless she is, too good at everything — but genuinely disliking anything about Tonelico? That feels utterly impossible. Artoria can’t even imagine it.
Tonelico trains her gaze on the lake’s surface. Immediately shifting into full focus, and throwing the flat stone the way she’s seen Artoria do it. It skips once—
No, it sinks immediately once it breaks the water’s surface.
Artoria blinks a few times. She rubs her eyes, in disbelief at what she’s just seen. Did Tonelico really mess up completely? That wasn’t a dream, right?
“… what…” Tonelico is as surprised as Artoria at her immediate failure.
She turns around with a reddened face when she hears Artoria snort once the reality sinks in like the stone sank to the lake’s ground.
Artoria breaks into full-blown laughter when she sees Tonelico’s flustered and frustrated face. This is a first. Too good, too funny. She’s always hoped to see Tonelico like this, and now she does over stone skipping, of all things?
“I— I’m sorry, just… Pffft.” Artoria tries her best to stop laughing, to no avail. “Fwahahaha, you should see your face!”
“T-this— It’s harder than it looks!! I’m sure I’ll get it the next time!”
‘The pebble must’ve had an unfortunate shape… No, I threw it at a bad angle… Maybe it was both?’
Confident that she’ll make Artoria eat her cockiness in a moment — make her regret that undignified ugly laugh on top of it — Tonelico scans the shoreline for the perfect stone.
Once she finds one that matches her standards, Tonelico picks it up, gets ready, and gives it her all with the next throw.
… only for it to break the water’s surface and propel forward further below it, until it inevitably sinks to the ground again.
Tonelico’s record stays at an impressive zero.
Artoria drops to the ground now, holding her stomach, which hurts from laughing too much. Normally a sound that would be soothing music to Tonelico’s ears, but right now it adds insult to injury.
Salt into the wounds she’d rather lick in peace, like an injured animal.
While Tonelico is seething, Artoria eventually calms down, sitting up cross-legged. She wipes the tears from her eyes. This has probably been the first time in her life she’s laughed this much, and it being at Tonelico’s expense makes it feel even more cathartic.
“Are you done yet?” For once, it’s Tonelico’s turn to sulk and pout over her inadequacy.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry.” Artoria clears her throat. “It’s just… I never saw you fumble anything this hard before. You’re plain awful at stone skipping.”
“You really just said that to my face, huh?” After a brief moment of surprise, it’s now Tonelico’s turn to chuckle softly.
She sits down next to Artoria, watching the small ripples on the calm lake with her. Her sulky irritation is replaced with a gentle but faint smile, an almost melancholic expression.
Artoria wants to ask what’s with that reaction, but she doesn’t have to for Tonelico to go on.
“I never had anyone tell me I failed, or that I’m bad at anything before.” Tonelico leans back a little, propping herself up on her arms. “It’s kind of refreshing.”
“Of course. You pretty much nail anything you try right away.” Artoria’s expression sours again at the mere idea. She rolls her eyes. “That’s the most annoying thing about you.”
“I suppose it is. I don’t think anyone would be as… bold as you are, Artoria.” Not just anyone would speak so rudely to Tonelico, lacking any respect.
“Someone has to take you down a peg and remind you that you’re just a fairy once in a while.”
Artoria puffs out her chest proudly. Even though Tonelico has long reached a level of magical prowess that she wouldn’t be able to match, even though Tonelico knows so many more spells than she’d ever be able to learn, even though Tonelico is all that Artoria will never be — at the end of the day, Tonelico isn’t some incomprehensible being.
She’s a fairy like Artoria.
Knowing how lonely and difficult life is as the Fairy of Paradise — being othered, used, taken advantage of, abused, loathed — Artoria knows that a sense of normalcy and being understood is balm for a hurt soul. Glue that keeps the pieces of one’s heart together, preventing it from shattering under the pressure of adversary.
She’s learned that back in Orkney. She’d only gotten a glimpse of that back in Tintagel.
There’s no one but Artoria who would bother to stand up to Tonelico as an equal. And there’s nobody but Tonelico who would do the same for Artoria. In the whole world, possibly in all worlds, the two of them are one of a kind. Understanding each other comes so natural. For the most part.
“That was the last bell, huh,” Artoria says.
“Mhmm. I’ve rung all six now.” Tonelico’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes anymore when she stares off in the distance like she’s avoiding to look at the present.
“What’s next?” Artoria carelessly throws another pebble into the lake. “… are you going to tell me?”
“Please let me think about it for a bit longer. I’ll tell you once I’m sure.”
Artoria isn’t satisfied with the lack of an answer to this crucial question. But this is a plea from Tonelico; she’s genuine, and desperately hopes that Artoria won’t pry further.
For now, for Tonelico’s sake, Artoria will settle for this. Ever since Tonelico promised to be honest with Artoria, she indeed hasn’t lied nor hidden any truth from Artoria.
This one time, Tonelico requests the privacy of pondering over her course of action by herself. Artoria understands she’d be too demanding if she wouldn’t respect that, just this once.
“Fine.” With a deep sigh, Artoria leans towards Tonelico until her head lands in Tonelico’s lap. “I’m not happy you’re still keeping me out, but… It can’t be helped.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
It pains Tonelico. She knows there’s no real solution. All she does is buy time; time for Artoria to stay blissfully unaware of their fate, the inevitability of it all. Eventually, Tonelico will have to tell Artoria, but… She can’t. Not today, not now.
‘Please, let me enjoy this dream for just a little bit longer…’
Artoria closes her eyes as Tonelico caresses her cheek. She nuzzles into the gentle touch, wishing this simple moment could last forever.
Maybe, once Tonelico brings peace to this land, it can. As fairies, their lifespans aren’t really limited. If anyone can turn this wretched place into a peaceful kingdom, it would be this Tonelico by Artoria’s side. No doubt about it.
Suddenly, a tremor; Tonelico and Artoria feel the ground shake beneath them.
Before even knowing the source, both of them instinctively know this is bad news. Dangerous.
Immediately, they jump into action. Artoria leaves the comfort of resting her head on Tonelico’s lap and gets onto her feet; Tonelico takes her staff and leaps up, trying to pin down the direction at the very least.
“It’s coming from there,” Artoria says, pointing east.
Tonelico nods. It’s not a surprise Artoria notices before her, she’s got finer senses. In a different situation, Tonelico would call them ‘animalistic instincts’ that Artoria possesses in place of proper manners. But now isn’t the time for banter.
“Stay here.”
Once she’s said that, Tonelico takes off towards the source of the ground’s tremble. This isn’t a matter Artoria should get involved in; Artoria shouldn’t endanger herself like that. Much to her dismay, Tonelico can tell that she’s on her tail, though.
‘Why can’t this fool just listen…’
Gritting her teeth, Tonelico has to think fast. She decides to let Artoria follow. In the worst case, she can use a Water Mirror to send her back to the lake still. Beats losing time to a futile argument with a stubborn Artoria.
Not that Tonelico is any less stubborn herself.
After a long dash through thick woods surrounding the lake, Tonelico’s eyes widen in shock as she comes to face with what may as well be a nightmare — in the center of a clearing that hasn’t been one until very recently stands a gigantic reptilian creature.
It’s pitch black. Instead of scales, its body gives off black dust-like particles. Almost seeming as though this beast is made of a combination of coal and shadow. It stands on four thick legs, three claws on each foot. Each one almost as long as Artoria is tall.
The beast’s tail is fairly short, but at this sheer size still gives it a big range. Its hind legs appear sturdier, hinting at its ability to at least temporarily stand on them only.
Upon Tonelico’s arrival, it lets out a low growl that reverberates through one’s soul, instilling an instinctual fear into one’s heart. It’s loud enough that Tonelico wouldn’t doubt it’s heard in all of Britain.
“W-what the hell is—”
“A calamity,” Tonelico mutters.
Although she doesn’t truly know why, Artoria simply understands.
Neither of them has heard of them before, much less seen one. But now that they come to face with this being that feels as though it’s made of pure hatred, its only purpose murder and annihilation — they intrinsically know what it is. Maybe because they’re Fairies of Paradise.
The next thing they understand: This beast has to be taken down.
“Stay back.” The look Tonelico gives Artoria doesn’t leave room for arguments.
“But— I can’t just let you go up against that by yourself! I feel it too, you know!”
“Artoria, please.” Tonelico puts her trembling hand on Artoria’s shoulder. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
With a click of her tongue, Artoria turns away. The raw hurt in Tonelico’s eyes is plain unfair. It’s like looking at Tonelico after Orkney; there’s no way Artoria would be able to put Tonelico through such pain. Never again could she bear seeing Tonelico like that.
Grateful for Artoria’s compliance, Tonelico takes off towards the reptilian shadow beast of hatred, leaving Artoria to step back into the woods, out of sight and earshot. Frustrated about being a useless burden in such dire situations.
“… then you should’ve let me ring the bells, too,” Artoria mutters.
Tonelico charges at the beast, transforming her staff into a spear for both range and sharpness. She catches the calamity’s attention immediately and has to leap to the side to avoid getting stomped, but then pierces its stomach. Scaled animals tend to have softer scales and less protection on the bellies, after all.
Not that such logic would apply to a calamity.
The spear’s tip easily stabs the creature, meeting little resistance — but the calamity appears entirely unaffected. Tonelico pulls her spear back out, using a Water Mirror to change her position, spawning over the beast’s back. She turns her spear into a sword, gripping the hilt with both hands tightly.
Gravity pulls her down, adding more force to the swing when Tonelico cuts the calamity’s back. Yet again, there is little resistance to the attack, and no reaction. There’s no injury, nor does blood flow. Tonelico considers that this thing might not be able to feel pain.
In which case, it wouldn’t halt until it’s killed.
From the corner of her eye, she sees its tail coming at her — but in a split second, another Water Mirror brings her to the calamity’s nape. Right as she uses her magecraft to transform the sword back into the spear, the beast turns its head 180 degrees and looks straight at Tonelico. Its empty eyes seem to pierce her soul directly.
Tonelico feels as though she can hear its thoughts.
Kill. Kill them all. Sinners. Destroy. Kill. Punish. Destroy Kill Destroy Kill Kill Kill them all. KILL.
Tonelico shudders at the concentrated hatred that this calamity exudes. It won’t stop until it falls, or Britain does. The icy shiver that runs down Tonelico’s spine at this is enough of a distraction to break her concentration.
She only barely casts another Water Mirror in time to avoid her limbs getting caught in the calamity’s mouth, snapping shut with sharp teeth right where Tonelico used to be.
But with her imperfect focus, the Water Mirror isn’t as accurate as usual and drops her onto the ground at an unfortunate angle. After half a roll, Tonelico lands back on her feet, frantically running through all the options she can think of, in way over her head.
Are there any possible weak spots she didn’t try yet? Is it worth looking for them? Head, tail, and feet are lethal weapons. Getting too close to them is a high risk with no reward.
Does it have a heart? Would piercing that kill it immediately? With how there’s no blood running through its body, the absence of a heart wouldn’t be surprising. And Tonelico has no idea where it would be anyway.
The last option is to continuously strike it, accumulating so much damage that it cannot keep its body intact anymore. This works on any living organism, phantasmal beings, and objects. A straightforward and blunt course of action, but the most promising strategy.
‘But how can I inflict that much damage to it…?’
At most, Tonelico could create three clones of herself. They are as powerful as her original self, but she only has enough mana to keep them active for about five minutes. If that’s not enough, that would leave her wide open for retaliation. It’s a high risk. Too high.
There’s no saying that four Tonelicos could finish the job within five minutes. It’s not worth it.
Instead, Tonelico takes her spear and charges at the calamity’s left hind leg. If she can cut a leg off, that would limit its mobility. That’s the edge she needs. She transforms the spear back into a sword and cuts away at the leg.
If only Tonelico would’ve learned proper swordsmanship, she’d be more efficient. Luckily, technique isn’t as crucial as raw power in such a battle.
And yet, as easily as the sword’s blade slides through the calamity’s leg, no cut remains. Like this, it’s simply impossible to sever the limb.
Unwilling to give up on this approach this soon — it’s not like she could transform her staff into a gigantic axe, or wield one in the first place — Tonelico keeps cutting at it.
“Watch out—”
When Artoria’s cry reaches Tonelico’s ears, she sees a shadow in the corner of her eye. She casts Water Mirror, but it activates too late. The calamity’s tail slams into Tonelico’s side at full force, knocking the breath out of her as it throws her into the Water Mirror.
The momentum tosses Tonelico out of the delayed Water Mirror roughly, at a safe enough distance at least. Flung like a ragdoll, Tonelico tumbles over the rough ground, until she eventually catches her movement.
Standing up proves difficult. Tonelico struggles to get up on her knees, holding her right side. At least two of her ribs are definitely broken. The pain is almost numbing.
When Tonelico reaches up to wipe her nose, she sees blood. She casts the minor healing spell she knows on her nose while she holds it closed to stop the bleeding. Injuries can be taken care of later when she has the time; not bleeding out before the calamity is down is the highest priority.
When Tonelico looks back at the calamity, she can’t believe her eyes: Artoria is charging at the wretched thing.
‘This foolish girl…!!’
Tonelico immediately transforms her sword back to its original form, a staff. This isn’t Artoria’s battle. As the Fairy of Paradise, the one who rung the six bells and completed her pilgrimage, it’s Tonelico’s duty to protect Artoria.
Right when she wants to cast a Water Mirror to send Artoria away from this, she feels a piercing pain in her chest. Tonelico flinches, almost sinking to her knees. Maybe it’s not only two broken ribs. No, that can wait.
“Artoria, don—”
Once she tries to raise her voice, Tonelico feels an unbearable irritation in her throat, swallowing up her speech. She covers her mouth with her hand, and coughs up blood.
In this moment, Tonelico curses herself for not having delved deeper into healing magecraft. With the sharp pain in her chest, and the blood still lingering in her mouth, Tonelico is in too bad of a shape for close combat.
Artoria can tell. Seeing the speed at which the calamity’s tail crashed into Tonelico, she’s surprised Tonelico can even stand up anymore. It must be the boost from the bells. That was enough force to knock the wind out of anyone, if not outright kill them.
At that sight, Artoria couldn’t stand still and watch anymore.
‘As if I’d let you hurt Tonelico like that!!’
Pilgrimage or not, Fairy of Paradise or Child of Prophecy — none of that matters. Who cares about duty and role?
All that matters is saving Tonelico’s life; that’s what Artoria’s heart is screaming at the top of its lungs. This oversized lizard isn’t that scary to an Artoria filled with the anger and frustration of seeing Tonelico get injured while she motionlessly stands by.
Artoria tightens her grip on her simple wooden staff and casts one of the spells she’s learned in her magecraft studies with Tonelico in Orkney — boosting her physical capabilities. She leaps onto the calamity’s foot with ease.
Her jumping power is enough to even cover the distance to its shoulder, from where she charges towards its head.
Unlike Tonelico earlier, Artoria already knows now that the thing can turn its head by 180 degrees at least, if not full 360 degrees. It does, aiming to take a bite of Artoria, who jumps up in time to swiftly evade the fatal attack, then she uses all of her boosted strength to ram her staff into the calamity’s left eye.
Surprisingly, it lets out a low growl, as if wincing in pain. Before Artoria could even think to retrieve her staff — not that she planned anything about this attack in advance, she’s simply acted on nothing but intuition and instinct — she’s hit by the calamity shaking its head in a futile attempt to dislodge the staff stuck in its eye like a thorn.
Artoria casts a spell, boosting her durability just in time before she hits the ground. It still hurts like hell and knocks the breath out of her. Magecraft without a staff is weaker and less focused, but it’s better than nothing. Without the boost, this fall would’ve broken some bones at least.
The calamity raises to its hind legs, shaking its head left and right to remove the foreign object. To no avail.
This is the missing puzzle piece: attacks don’t leave any mark on it, but objects stuck in it permanently are a different matter. That’s the information Tonelico needed.
With Artoria still in the calamity’s proximity, Tonelico’s concern overshadows her pain.
She puts all of her concentration into this spell. One Tonelico has never used before, only theorized about conceptually. There has never been an instance in which this would’ve been necessary. But holding back is the wrong move against this calamity.
Dark clouds accumulate above the beast’s head, while Artoria scrambles onto her legs. A little wobbly from the fall still, but she can slowly get some distance between herself and the calamity, while the clouds above thicken.
Once Artoria is out of range, Tonelico takes a deep breath to steady her aim. The preparation is done, her strongest spell is ready.
“Clouds of Orkney!!”
Instead of the gentle rain one would expect hearing ‘Orkney’ in the spell’s name, lightning crashes down relentlessly. Artoria’s staff, stuck in the calamity’s eye, turns out to be a perfect lightning rod, drawing in every single of the countless surges of pure energy.
The calamity shakes at every lightning that hits it, each strike looks as though it pulls apart the shadow particles the beast is made of until they pull themselves together again.
Its movements slow down gradually.
Until eventually, it drops to the ground. Stray lightning keeps raining down on its lifeless body. Each strike of lightning now dissipates a chunk of its body. Eventually, nothing remains of the calamity. No trace of the creature consisting of hatred and an overwhelming desire to annihilate the land.
“It’s over…” Tonelico’s voice is a mutter.
She coughs up blood again, finally sinking down to her knees — but Artoria is there to catch Tonelico in her arms.
“Why did you—” Another coughing fit disrupts Tonelico.
“If I didn’t, you’d be dead by now, you idiot!” Artoria holds back her tears. “What were you planning there!?”
As that question leaves Artoria’s mouth, she remembers Tonelico asking her that exact question back in Orkney, in one of their sparring matches. It only frustrates her further.
How could Tonelico act so high and mighty and criticize Artoria in a mere Magi-Match, just to pull off the same foolishness in a serious situation!? When it really counts!?
Tonelico remembers the same instance, realizing her hypocrisy. It was easy to criticize and chastize when there were no stakes, when there was the thought to spare on such trivialities.
Now? Tonelico understands she’s lucky to be alive. No, she knows she has to thank Artoria for that.
“You’re right.” Admitting this hurts, Tonelico winces at the pain in her throat.
“H-hey! You shouldn’t talk. Wait, I’ll heal you—”
When Artoria looks around for her staff, she finds it gone. Decimated by lightning, same as the calamity. Without it, her healing magecraft would struggle against Tonelico’s injuries.
Artoria grits her teeth. It’s not like she has a choice; she’ll have to cast a healing spell anyway.
Right when she’s about to put her focus into it, there are voices in the distance. Tonelico startles immediately. Her gaze flicks between Artoria and the source of the voices. Fairies are heading towards them.
The panic in Tonelico’s eyes says enough; Artoria doesn’t have to ask. Not right now.
They’ll have to leave before they’re found.
For a lack of better options, Artoria heaves Tonelico onto her back, planning to carry her piggyback. At least until they reach the woods, where it’ll be easy to keep their presence concealed.
Tonelico is heavier than expected — in her mind, Artoria blames Tonelico’s stupidly more developed body and especially her boobs for it. Artoria casts another spell, enhancing her physical strength once more. Less potent than in her battle against the calamity, but it should be enough.
The forest isn’t that far away, but with the additional weight on her back, despite the strength boost, Artoria trips every few steps and almost loses her balance. She feels Tonelico hold on to her more tightly, allowing Artoria to focus more on running, worrying less about not losing Tonelico.
Just barely, they manage to cross the bushes, getting further into the thickening woods. From behind, they can faintly make out fairies wondering if there wasn’t just someone here, and what happened to the monster they saw.
It doesn’t matter. Nobody seems to follow them.
Artoria lets Tonelico down against a tree, sitting cross-legged in front of her to catch her breath. The adrenaline pumping through her veins only helped as long as the threat was immediate; now that she’s calmed down and both Tonelico and herself are safe, the fatigue catches up.
This isn’t the right spot to make camp, but Artoria holds her hand over Tonelico’s ribs and casts a healing spell. If Tonelico can at least walk on her own without a risk of worsening her injuries, that would make the trip back to the lake a lot easier.
But staying focused is difficult. Artoria starts to feel a little light-headed after a moment, signaling that she’s already running low on mana. Unlike Tonelico, her reserves are much smaller and don’t recharge as quickly either. Ringing the bells is such an unfair cheat for a Fairy of Paradise.
“Ugh…” Artoria breaks off the spell and holds her head. She feels a mild headache approaching.
“Artoria?”
“Sorry, I’m— I’m just running low on mana. Give me a moment…”
Tonelico’s pain is somewhat numbed by now. Ignorable, as long as she stays mostly still. But getting up and walking to the lake in this state would overexert her, that much is clear.
There’s something that could be done to get back to the lake earlier, without having to wait here in the middle of the forest for Artoria to recharge.
“Kiss me.”
Artoria turns to Tonelico with an utterly confused look. Scandalized even.
Sorry I've been kinda inactive this week. I'm doing various household things to prepare for starting to work again next week (yay, new job!) aaand I used my "sorry we fired you because AI is better" money (aka severance pay) to buy PC parts and build a new PC. I'll turn my old PC into more or less a file server for my home network later this year.
Look, though! Isn't it pretty?
Side note: I have heard from ex-colleagues that the situation at the workplace that kicked me is getting worse and worse. Nobody is fine. Nothing works well. I'm very pleased to hear I was entirely correct when I predicted the "AI FIRST!!!!" approach would crash and burn within at most 2 years. Heh.
