#wizard!verse

Rated: explicit

Warnings: none

Pairings: Hiccup/Viggo

Word Count: 1,356

Summary: Continuation of my wizard!verse. Hiccup and Viggo have developed a whole new relationship after using sex magic.

@themagiciansarcana

His memories of the past few weeks were blurry at best and nonsensical or completely absent at worst. After being assigned to ‘escort’ Gellert Grindelwald while he was in New York--an assignment that was only slightly logical for him to perform, given his role as liaison--things became hazy and confusing. Disjointed.

Beau wasn’t the sort to have one-night stands, so why did one of his clearer memories seem to be allowing the German wizard to seduce him?

He didn’t understand it.

There was a lot he didn’t understand about what little he could remember.

But there was one thing he could say was absolutely clear to him: He’d been turned. Grindelwald had made him a vampire.

Sunlight burned his flesh. His senses were as keen as--if not keener than--they had ever been in his canine animagus form. His physical abilities had far surpassed anything humanly possible. And the smell of blood--once abhorrent and sickening to him--was now the sweetest perfume.

He hated it.

It terrified him.

Dieu miséricordieux, he was pretty sure he had already drained some poor sap during his first hours in this state, and he had no idea what he would do when the thirst for more blood hit him. How long would he be able to hold out before going on a rampage?

He couldn’t go to Percival for help. Not this time. If Grindelwald had turned Beau with the intention of using him as leverage, the man was sorely mistaken. Beau was a threat now, and the Director of Magical Security wouldn’t hesitate to kill him in order to protect others.

Beau didn’t think he would want Percival to spare him if he endangered anyone else.

No, he couldn’t go to Percival. And Revelin...

Enculer, he should have gone with Revelin when his werewolf had asked him to. He had no idea where to even start looking for Revelin. It had been months since he’d left.

Jarrett would know where Revelin had gone. If anyone would know, it was his brother.

Of course, Jarrett wouldn’t give Beau that information without a price. He wanted information in return. Information Beau would never have given him were he not desperate and in dire need. He had no other choice.

@gravemagicks

What had just happened?

Beau’s short term memory was fuzzy, confusing. He remembered fighting alongside his husband and a flash of light—but there had been constant flashes of light from spells and hexes. Had one hit him?

And now he felt as though he were floating. Why?

His surroundings came into focus, and—oh. Oh no. No.

Beau was floating. High above the battle. And there, on the ground below him, he could see Percival kneeling, cradling what looked like...oh, Dieu miséricordieux, was that...him? No. No, that couldn’t—it couldn’t be—it was. It was his body. Limp and lifeless, staring sightless at the sky.

That couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be dead. He wasn’t ready to die yet. He had to—he couldn’t just—

In an instant, he was there with Percival, trying desperately to reconnect with his body somehow. But he couldn’t. Every attempt just went through the limp form lying in his husband’s arms. He couldn’t even touch Percival without his hands slipping through his shoulder, his arm.

“No no no no no no no...”

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. Their anniversary was tomorrow. He’d had plans for it. He’d had so much he wanted to do for Percival--so much to do with Percival. This couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t be dead.

And Percival...Dieu miséricordieux, he was shattered. Beau could see his husband’s heart breaking, could almost feel the shards of it pierce him. And his surroundings were starting to fade away again.

“No no no...Percival, mon vaillant, I’m here. I’m still here. I’m right here beside you. Please, mon vaillant, please hear me. Please look at me. See me. I’m right here. I’m not gone. I’m not--please don’t let me fade like this. Please.”

Could spirits cry? Could they shed tears? He couldn’t remember ever seeing the ghosts at Hogwarts crying. But he felt like he was crying. And he knew he would be if he was back in his body.

Then it all faded away.

Beau didn’t know how much time had passed when he could see his surroundings again. When he realized he hadn’t faded from the world entirely and gone wherever the spirits who didn’t become ghosts went to. But he knew it had to have been a day, at least, because instead of the street where he’d been last--where he’d died--he now found himself at home, in the doorway between the foyer and the den of his and Percival’s apartment, looking into the den.

He turned at the sound of the front door opening, and his heart hurt to see Percival cross the threshold, looking so very worn out.

So it was still possible for a heart to break after it had stopped beating.

From the look of it, Percival had just returned from a funeral. From Beau’s funeral, no doubt. And Beau’s heart shattered anew upon the realization.

He wanted so badly to hold his husband, to comfort him--but how could he, when he couldn’t even touch him? Still, it hurt too much to see his beloved so grief-stricken, so exhausted, and to not even attempt the semblance of comfort. So when Percival sank to the sofa and dropped his head into his hands, Beau sat beside him--how strange that he could stand on the floor and sit on the sofa without sinking through them--and wrapped his arms as close around his beloved’s shoulders as he could without sliding through him.

“I wish you could see me, mon vaillant. Wish I could speak and have you hear me, touch and have you feel my touch. I wish there was some way I could let you know...I’m still here, mon amour, mon vaillant. I’m still with you, I promise. I’m not gone. I’m--I’m...dead, but I’m not gone. I’m still here.”

He carded a hand through Percival’s hair and pressed a kiss to his temple. Or rather, performed some approximation of the gestures, at least.

@gravemagicks

Beau pressed the heel of his palm against the scar on his throat with a grimace. The damn thing throbbed as though it had a life of its own, and he knew he was getting close to his latest mark. And, if he was lucky, closer to the vengeance he so desired.

Vengeance. Revenge. It wasn’t a thing he’d ever imagined himself pursuing. The man he’d once been wasn’t vengeful. Not until--

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth to stave off the tears he could feel burning behind his eyelids, his hand drifting to close around the watch in his pocket. Percival’s pocketwatch. The one he’d charmed to correspond to his two-way mirror. The glass was cracked, and the hands no longer moved around the watch face. It hadn’t worked since President Picquery had returned it to him.

“Percy would have wanted you to have it back,” she’d told him.

Beau couldn’t bring himself to try to fix it.

 His current companions--though he couldn’t really call them good company--didn’t get why he carried the broken watch with him everywhere, checking it every so often as though it might start ticking away again if he just looked at it often enough. They thought he’d gone off the rails. They didn’t care, though, as long as he pulled his weight. They didn’t understand. It was his anchor.

It wasn’t only vengeance he sought--it was closure.

It had been two years since he’d lost the man he loved--lost him to a foe Beau couldn’t even remember. Percival was gone, and Beau had no memory of what had happened. All he’d been left with was the imprint of a vampire’s fangs in his flesh and a hole in his heart where once there had been love.

Two years of hunting, searching for answers, and he was no closer to them than when he’d started.

His latest lead had brought him to a little town in the West German Rhineland, where he’d met up with a group of vampire hunters he’d worked with periodically since leaving MACUSA. They’d heard the same stories he had regarding the area. Tales of a vicious killer slaughtering people and livestock, savaging them and leaving them drained of blood. The townsfolk didn’t seem all that concerned, though. They simply continued on with their lives as though it wasn’t obvious there was a vampire residing in the fortress across the field from the edge of town. Those he’s spoken with even seemed...grateful to the creature.

Beau suspected they were in the vampire’s thrall.

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

Hearing his words so quietly repeated, seeing Percival’s features return to their usual apparently human state, Beau relaxed slightly.

But he froze as Percival’s hand grasped his wrist, every instinct suddenly screaming, ‘Run! Danger!’ and, for that briefest instant, Beau feared a trap. That the hunters’ arrival had somehow thrust his beloved into some untrusting and untrustworthy state. But, no, Percival’s grip was loose, tentative, the light caress of his thumb gentle, and Percival’s gaze was as confused and frightened as his own. This was no trick, no trap.

“Oh, merci Dieu.” Beau went almost completely slack in relief, his head falling to Percival’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, and he stayed like that for a good, long moment.

Until a soft whimper from behind him reminded Beau of exactly why he’d had to pin Percival in the first place.

He turned to the girl--and, oh, Dieu miséricordieux, the fear and confusion and concern in Velia’s dark, violet eyes was absolutely heartbreaking. Beau crossed to her and knelt, reaching up to gently cup her face in his hands.

“Are you all right, minette?”

Velia nodded, sniffling. For all that she’d grown in the few years since Beau had seen her last, she was still just a child--and a horribly frightened one, at that. “You’re hurt.”

As though her words had summoned it, pain flared in Beau’s injured arm, but he ignored it. “I’ll be all right, minette. But what are you doing here, Velia? And why with a pack of hunters?”

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

As small and cozy as his family home may be, the cottage still contained two--three if you included the cellar where his father kept his workshop--stories’ worth of rooms, and while Maurice was visiting with Belle and Adam at their manor Beau had the whole place to himself. It was a nice change for the first day or so, but Beau quickly grew lonely. If it hadn’t been for Percival’s visit, Beau was certain he would have ended up spending the night--and likely every night until his father returned home--in his office at the Ministry.

Having his soulmate there made the cottage feel it’s normal, comfortable size rather than the cavernous expanse it had felt like that morning.

@gravemagicks

Beau’s soulmark flared a brilliant red where the few abstract lines of it that formed a sort of bird’s head weren’t hidden beneath the cuff of his sleeve. His mark, a phoenix in flight whose tail reached nearly to the crook of his arm, had been flaring for the past few days. Ever since the American Director of Magical Security had joined the efforts against Grindelwald’s forces here in France.

Percival Graves.

The man had a reputation for being ruthless in his pursuit of protecting the magical world. At least, in his part of the magical world. That he was in the French countryside to help them hold the front against Grindelwald and his fanatics...well, the man was committed, to say the least.

And Beau’s soulmark seemed to be pulling him toward Graves.

Well, Beau was in charge of the support battalion for Graves’ team, so at least he had a good excuse to go and talk to the man who could very well be his soulmate. He wondered if Percival’s soulmark was the same sort of abstract falling star as Belle’s soulmate Adam’s was.

He gathered himself and crossed to where he saw the handsome older man--and wow he really shouldn’t be admiring Percival’s appearance like this right now, it was entirely inappropriate for the situation.

He snapped a sharp salute when he reached him.

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

That didn’t sound too confident. Percival sounded almost as though he were in pain. A small frown tugged at the corners of Beau’s mouth, and he stepped around the desk, drawing closer still to his lover. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked softly. “You’ve seemed rather on edge since I came in.”