#bonded

The Apostates’ Coven was vital. Those solitary siblings guarded the farthest thresholds. They were a horseshoe over the lintel to Nowere. They gave those who had crossed the most sacred lines a way to still be of service to the patchwork of yesterdays and the pattern of tomorrow.

But in that moment, Niks could not shake the perversity of it. Was there not a better way – a kinder way – to gird siblings for that path? Was it not a horror to say “for your sins, we will take your joy and give you hardship, and we will call it grace”?

Niks’ vision blurred. The spoon fell from their grey-stained lips. Their mouth was so dry. They coughed and gasped, choking on what they had been assured was medicine.

A gentle hand stroked their face. A soft voice whispered solace. The other witches looked at each other with twisted grief. Not all survived the first steps down the Apostates' road. And when a witch did not make it, the departed’s coven-mates would whisper that to leave a hard road unwalked could sometimes be a blessing.

Niks saw the grief on the faces of the gathered covens, and saw it cut with relief.

Spite rose acidic in their throat, and spite had always been a great motivator for Niks. The fireplace of soot in their stomach began to splutter and burn.

Niks let the snarl spread across their face. They waved off the crowd of pre-emptive mourners. They picked up the spoon. They gobbled down the next mouthful. They gorged themselves on bitterness.

The internal hearth in their guts blazed. The needles scoured their skin. Niks was transformed in agony and they let themself stop pretending that it did not feel amazing.

The witch holding their hand tensed like she was holding a snake. Their former coven hurried about their needlework as if Niks’ blood was crude oil and they all held matches.

Niks laughed and did not care.

They only became faintly aware, once the bowl was empty and their throat was raw from cackling, that they were alone.

They took the night bus home, taking in nothing around them, trembling and chuckling the whole way home.

It was only as they got off the bus that they remembered a faint touch that had stayed slow and tender through the whole ordeal.

They sat on their sofa with the lights off. They held a cup of tea that they could not remember making. It was weak and had too much milk, but it was hot in their hands and smelled like something normal.

Niks stared down at their mug, and saw for the first time with almost-clear eyes the iron-stitched tattoos. They were surprised to find words there, running all the way from the elbow down to the fingertips. 

Usually, coven-mates would ink memory wards upon the Apostates. These were protective workings wound up in shared experience and expressed as an image or in abstract.

Niks moved to the bathroom and stood in front of the tall mirror. The ink on the rest of their body was what they expected; it was only their arms that were different.

They felt, again, the ghost of that one pair of hands that had stayed gentle throughout the whole working.

Curio. Curio (whose name had once been Precious) had not been the closest of Niks’ coven-mates, but he had always looked at them with clarity. Curio had always seen the broken glass in Niks’ history and had never worried it might cut him.

The two had almost gone to bed a couple of times, but had always found a reason to put it off to another day. Niks supposed that Curio would now remain always a “maybe one day”. But, well, there was a kind of power in potential (even unfulfilled).

Here are the words that Curio had written in shifting ferrous toxins across Niks’ body:

“Step by step. Sibling, this is how we go. Though I do not walk with you, know that the echo of my soles cries out to yours. Though you walk in the gloaming, know that there are photons lighting your way that have kissed my skin in days gone by.

“Step by step, sibling. This is how we go. Though your body is a gaol, know that there is a stitchwork to blood and bile and bone. Though you are illuminated by cold metal prison bars, know that others before you have unlocked the alchemy of biology. Though my becoming is not your transmogrification, know that our stories have in common both some language and some lessons.

“Step by step, sibling, this is how. We go forward knowing there is joy on the horizon. We go forwards and though some play leprechaun and move the rainbow goalposts beyond our reach, know that they cannot move the sunset. Though they bury the gold and lie and say it never did exist, know that it did and it does and the dusk is always gilded. Though you may ask me how to grasp it… how is this, sibling? Step by step.

“There are many things beyond our grasp, beyond our ken, beyond the doorway. Yet it is a lie to say that simply because you cannot touch a thing today that you must accept it cannot be changed. There is a distance between you and every thing in existence that can be measured in footsteps. A day will come, perhaps, when those things hear you coming and begin walking – in turn – towards you. As I will.

“Step by step. Sibling: this is how.

“We go.”

Niks read those words again and again and again. And they wept. And they cackled.

And they drank their tea.

---

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Syrax would be unwaveringly committed to you. Once the bond snaps in place, she only has eyes for you and expects the same devotion in return.

・In this relationship, you two possess the ability to communicate with each other in a way that goes beyond simple speech. Syrax can pick up on your emotions and feelings very quickly.

・All dragonshifter bonds have almost telepathic communication, but it is something both partners have to work on.

・In times of danger, Syrax would be a fierce protector, and you'd fight side by side.

・The bond would carry a lot of emotional depth, not just physical but also emotional and spiritual. You would be her confidante, her ally, and her anchor in times of uncertainty.

・Syrax's emotions run deep, and she would only ever bond with someone who can match her intensity.

・In this form, Syrax still possesses her keen senses, fiery temperament, and a deep connection to the skies and nature.

・Her human-like form has indications of her dragon self; her hair has an otherworldly shimmer, sharp fingernails, curled horns that protrude from her forehead, pointed ears and glowing eyes.

・Depending on her shift, she may retain scaled wings, allowing her to soar even in her human-like form.

・Whether she is looming over you as a dragon or standing beside you as a woman, Syrax is always your protector. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, she bares her fangs in a silent warning.

・However, she does face challenges in adapting to human emotions, relationships, and societal norms.

・With her only able to dragonshift when she meets her soulmate/mate, it takes a while to understand the human way of life...

・So she asks you many, many questions about - everything.

"But I do not understand why!

"Well, I- I guess that's just the way it's been. Tradition. I think it's a tad stupid but ... that's why."

・Hence, you have to have a lot of patience with her

・Always wants to be near you; holding your hand, nuzzling into your shoulder, climbing ontop of you etc

・Likes to stare at you, you can often find her looking at you, no matter how close or far away she is.

"Oh! Sy, what are you staring at? Is there something on my face?"

"Yes," she says, leaning forward, "a kiss!"

・Bites you when she's bored...or just when you two are alone.

・Very jealous. Doesn't like it when someone looks at you too long.

・Loves sweet things; will eat an entire plate of honey lemons in 10 minutes flat

・Syrax would have such high energy; encouraging you to try new things and take risks. But reminding you that she'll always be there to catch you if you fall.

・She is so understanding. So empathetic toward you. Syrax only wants the best for you.

・There’s a strong, mutual desire to shield one another from harm.

・Nothing intimidates her. Any challenges that come up - she faces them head on. She's determined. A being who cannot be swayed.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (Syrax) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (You)

Wear Matching Necklaces

Primal & Possessive

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Unbreakable Bond/Bonded for Life

Mutual Growth

The Dragon’s Protector

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

The Sails of Charon by Scorpions

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

The Wolf by Fever Ray

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・First of all, Syrax is incredibly possessive of you. She has a primal instinct to make everyone know that you are hers and she is yours.

・She is incredibly strong, even if she doesn't look it...and gods does she love using her strength against you

・Her favourite thing to do is hold you against a wall, or! pin you on the bed.

・Her teeth raking down your cheek, neck, chest and stomach...

・Syrax loves to mark you. Bites, bruises, deep scratches. She expects to see them the next day. If she notices them fading too quickly...she’ll remedy that immediately.

・Needs to have her scent on you. Many know you are together, but with her scent Syrax is letting every other magical being that you are bonded

・When her instincts are particularly strong, she burns for you - literally. Her body runs hotter than a human's and when she's aroused, her body is warm to the touch.

・She does have a Heat.

・And it can last for upto a week. During that time, no matter what has to be done, Syrax is not letting you leave her side. She needs to be near you at all times.

・During this time, she is constantly wet, constantly needing you.

・She ruts against you, sometimes slowly, just to relieve some part of her. Other times, she pins you down and humps you until she's reached her peak.

・If it was any other time, she would want to be the dominant one. But during her Heat, she wants to be used; wants her hair pulled, her nipples swollen from constant biting and pulling.

I hate to say it but this one is all about the vibe. The writing ain't perfect.

The Duke, Cedar, feels very tied down by his loyalty to Katrus. He's been in denial about his lust for a long time. He goes on adventures(?) with the immortal elf, and none of them are fun. Master Katrus is an immortal being that can repel dangerous giant monsters. Without him the country would be a feeding ground.

He's kind of one of the most important living beings around.

He's also, of course, heartbreakingly gorgeous and depressed. The monsters at the border love to eat life force. Katrus is life. A true immortal by blood. His meat, blood, and fluids can placate the monsters. His power can destroy them, sure, but the depression thing....yeah...

Um...

He has started letting the monsters eat and violate him, because he no longer cares about his life. He is also aware of the Duke's feelings, and he uses freeze spells to force him to watch.

Yeah...um.....being Duke Cedar sucks....

He's so far gone that it does turn him on. He's pretty obsessed. Katrus is an untouchable being that has become vulnerable due to his mental state.

He used to be distant, professional and vicious. Duke Cedar kept his wandering eyes on the ground in those days, but war has a way of breaking people.

The King immediately notices something is wrong with the pair, but he is a good leader. He isn't paranoid or overly cruel. Katrus is making a sacrifice as a soldier. He doesn't expect it to be pretty. He expects the elf to keep defending the country. The method doesn't matter. He seems hopeful about Duke Cedar. Perhaps affection from a human will keep the elf in action longer...

Katrus is not a good lover. He constantly makes fun of Duke Cedar for daring to be attracted to him. He doesn't even treat the Duke like a servant.

Just like an animal.