happilyeverbeginning | i keep on fallin' [scrooge x magica]

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i keep on fallin' [scrooge x magica]

If Magica had a heart, it would've been beating rapidly. Though she had longed to be free of her shadowy prison for centuries, a part of her had given up hope long ago. Even now, with the last of the ingredients gathered, that part of her said something wouldn't work. Scrooge's power wouldn't be strong enough, she'd been trapped too long - and then there was the horror of what if it did work? Would she age rapidly into bones or dust? If she lived, would she be able to adjust in this world? Ultimately, she was more afraid this night than she'd ever been her entire long, long life.

That was probably why she was so silent, as the last of the candles were lit. Technically, everything was being set up perfectly. She stayed on the while, quietly observing, staying as still as she could. Surely something would go wrong. Scrooge would change his mind. They'd gotten an ingredient wrong. Something. Anything.

Of course, stubborn as she was, she wasn't going to tell Scrooge how she felt. Let him draw his own conclusions.

"Hmm..."

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Scrooge was honestly a bit nervous as well but not for the same reasons. Part of him was screaming at him, that he was putting his family at unnecessary risk if he set her free. The rest of him was...scared, scared of being alone. He'd gotten so used to her being there with him, the two of them against the world.

However, he'd promised her that he'd try. If there was anything to be said about Scrooge McDuck, it was that he kept his word.

As he lit the last candle, he looked over the rest of the chalk diagram and the arrangement of the spell components. Some part of him hoped that he wouldn't be able to hack this. His magical talents laid more with spirits...which technically Magica kind of was right now, admittedly.

He looked to her shadow form at her voice. "Something wrong?"

Had they missed something?

Edited 2018-09-09 23:57 (UTC)

Magica jerked, then cleared her throat, ready to pretend. "I'm trying to be patient!" She snapped, masking her fear with snobbery. "You're taking forever, and I've already had to live through forever!" Granted, mouthing off at the only person who could free you was probably not the smartest idea, but Magica wasn't thinking clearly.

"Aren't you done yet?"

"Yes, I'm finished," Scrooge grumbled. "I was just double-checking everything. Last thing I'd want is to turn both of us inside-out or something."

Not that it was likely to happen, but it was the principle of the thing.

He moved into his place in the diagram.

"Ready?"

Welp, add THAT to her rowing list of fears, thanks Scrooge.

Magica swallowed. No, she wasn't ready... but she didn't feel she'd ever be ready. It was now or never, and if she wasted this chance, who knew when the last one would come along? She had no choice but to trust him.

And she did.

"... Yes." Her voice was unusually soft. "Let's begin."

You're welcome, Magica.

The softness of her voice made him worried, but he took a deep breath and released it. He'd practiced the incantation to make sure he didn't miss a line, but this would be the first time adding will to make it a proper spell. The components, theoretically, should help create and nourish her new body.

He opened his mouth and began intoning in the original form of Gaelic that had been the dominant language when Magica had first been imprisoned, closing his eyes to narrow his focus. He was no great wizard--doubtful he'd ever become one--but hopefully he had enough to break the bond between them and allow Magica to walk the earth again.

At once, the spell began to show the effects - the smoke from the candles began to intensify, turning dark, then purple, before surrounding Magica over and over. She felt -

She felt!

Her eyes flared open, as strength, blood, pain, muscle, all of it began to develop inside of her, each nerve sparking to life! The smoke swirled faster and faster, shading her budding body - the outfit that she had worn on the day of her imprisonment rewove itself, she could smell, she could breathe, she could... laugh.

"... Heehee. Heh heh heh... HA HA HA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!"

The smoke then burst in one hard, sweeping motion, revealing the once and future Magica De Spell. "YES! The power! The body... I'm back!"

The maniacal laughter of the witch filled him with fear, but his vision blurred even as the smoke was cleared away. He'd never worked major magic before, and it was doubtful he'd ever be able to pull off such a feat again. His magical pathways or whatever they were just weren't designed to work that way.

He fell first to his knees and then prone on the floor, lying helplessly at her feet as the world went dark.

Magica hadn't noticed her partner's position too yet, too enthralled over what she had regained. She ran her hands over her hair, her arm, her waist, giggling erratically. "It's all here! Oh, yes, every drop of my power has been restored to me! Nothing has changed at all!" After one long croon, she finally began to look over shoulder. "So, how-"

But her question was cut off, as she saw him collapse. Suddenly, being "here" seemed vastly less important. "Scrooge!" She scrambled to his side, turning him over, trying to find out what happened. No no no no NO NO NO NO! Things were NOT supposed to go like this! "Are you kidding... You have the GALL to die on me?! You think I'd allow that?!"

She placed a hand on his chest - she'd later note how easy it was to use her powers again, despite having gone without them for so long - to will her dark energy inside him, start up his heart, breathe air into his lungs. "If you leave now, I'll never forgive you, do you hear me?!"

Scrooge shuddered and coughed as he was forced back to the conscious world. It took willpower to pry his eyes open, every cell in his body exhausted from the massive energy drain from using his magic in ways it just wasn't supposed to work.

He looked up at the woman leaning over him, blinking uncomprehendingly as his eyes threatened to close. God, he just wanted to sleep. Though admittedly this was a very pretty girl that Magica was going to rag on him about for--

Magica.

The sudden jolt of fear got him moving. He weakly struggled to sit up enough to turn to his shadow, disoriented, not even caring that he was about to start what must've appeared to be raving like a lunatic. "M-Magica? Magica?!"

As his eyes opened, Magica let out a large sigh of relief, sitting on her knees. "Oh, for goodness sake... I'm back to life for five seconds, and you're already trying to give me a heart attack." She still had the same voice, if there was any doubt who this was.

"I suppose we should have prepared ourselves for how much energy that would take out of you, but I don't think either of us would have guessed it'd take that much."

It took him a moment to reconcile that the voice wasn't coming from his shadow but the lovely lady he'd opened his eyes to. He turned back around to face the woman, blinking owlishly as he tried to focus.

"Sorry, but some of us aren't all-powerful sorceresses," he grumbled. He leaned back on his hands to keep himself somewhat upright. "But it worked, right?"

"Of course it did!" She looked at him, ready to into another ranting tirade -

But that's when she saw how he was looking at her.

Very slowly, a smirk began to crawl along her lips. "Which... reminds me. I was trying to ask you something, when you were losing consciousness..."

She hadn't seen anyone staring at her in this fashion since her original days of flesh and blood. She hadn't cared too much back then, but. Well. That was then, and this was now, and this was Scrooge.

One hand went to the floor to steady her, and the other touched the underside of his beak as she leaned in. "... What do you think, Scroogie?"

Apparently, after centuries of being locked up in shadow, it made one more appreciative of people noticing her appearance.

She cupped his beak in her hand, and he shivered in response. Not because she was cold--he was used to that when she'd been made of shadow--but because the action had taken on a new level of intimacy with her having a flesh and blood body. He was suddenly keenly aware of the warmth of her skin and even the faint pulse of blood in her veins.

"...You weren't kidding when you said you were a knock-out," he blurted out, still a bit too disoriented to have much of a brain to beak filter.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

One of the things that came roaring back to her body with a vengeance was what it was like to want someone. She had ogled Scrooge plenty as a shadow, but now she had blood rushing through her, a heart to beat, and places that were aching in the most pleasant ways. The sultry act was an excellent cover for her resisting the urge to tackle him down. An urge that was growing second by second.

"Now that I'm free, I suppose I should find some way to... thank you." She leaned in closer, leaving only a breath of space between them. Her fingers slid down his neck, playfully fiddling with the collar of his robes. "Any ideas...?"

There were several reasons why Scrooge had never laid with anyone before. First and foremost, he'd been constantly on the move and didn't have time to meet a "sweet little thing" to settle down with. (Getting rich hadn't meant he'd slowed down any either.) Second, prostitutes were an expensive and unnecessarily risky habit. Third, and most importantly, having someone living in your shadow made it difficult to swallow the idea of someone watching while you laid with someone else. (How his ancestors had managed to get past that awkwardness was anybody's guess.)

Besides he'd been too focused on his goals to really think much of the needs of the body beyond what was absolutely necessary. Now it all came rushing to him at once in a dizzying maelstrom, his heart pounding so loudly he was amazed she hadn't mention it. He swallowed, mouth bone dry, and his arms trembled from both the exhaustion of the spell and the long-neglected hormones that had decided to remind him that they were supposed to fit together in ways much, much different than a man and his shadow.

It was his bad luck that his tired arms gave way, and he yelped in surprise, instinctively reaching up to try and catch himself on the closest thing to him--her--as he saw stars from the back of his head meeting the floor. He hissed in pain but at least he stayed conscious.

Magica, she of much narcissism and self-importance, didn't quite grasp that Scrooge's movement was out of survival and not her own beauty. Instead she surmised that Scrooge had grabbed her and yanked her on top of him as a need to have her right that damn second.

Good boy.

"Oh, thank goodness, I didn't think I could do that much more foreplay." Without wasting a second, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hard, devastating kiss that she'd been needing for centuries. And gods help anyone or anything that stopped this - including Scrooge himself - because he'd been teasing her - albeit unintentionally - for years and she was NOT going to let him forget it! To hell with revenge, a blood feud, or embracing the sun on her skin for the first time in eons - she had never wanted anything or anyone so badly in her whole life.

He'd been starting to squeak out "foreplay?!" when she suddenly had her beak against his. The effect was just as dizzying as the initial rush of hormones, and every nerve ending in his body was attuned to her.

His rational mind panicked, drowning in the sensations. His sensibilities told him to make her get off, that she'd just gotten her body back and she was likely reaching for the first available body rather than any sort of real attraction. He should stop her from doing something she'd likely regret when the initial rush wore off.

'Oh really? How quickly we forget the wolf whistling, hmm?' the primal part of him purred with amusement.

He laid there, frozen, before he followed the mute internal command to relax. It wasn't as if she was a stranger, after all. Admittedly, she had all the power here and could make him do what she wanted even if he was physically stronger than her. (Or at least he would've been if he hadn't been so drained.) But did he really want to resist?

Slowly, with very little conscious thought, he pulled her closer to him, awkwardly trying to return the kiss but having no practice in this particular arena. He was as green as the first day he'd set webbed foot on that ship to America, but his clunky attempts at trying to reciprocate at least would show he didn't lack enthusiasm.

Had Scrooge voiced any of his doubts, he would have gotten a sound yelling before Magica remembered she could actually maim him now. As eager and desperate as she was for touch, she wouldn't have settled for the first man in her path. Most of her lust was, absolutely, definitely, because she was straddling Scrooge McDuck.

It was quite all right that he wasn't experienced - in fact, in a weird way, it added fuel to the fire. It meant that she was his first, in every which way, and even if after this they would part, he'd never forget his first. As such, there was a need to claim. This was her territory.

Her hips straddled him hard, almost plowing into him, fingers now grabbing feverishly at his clothes for the right damn buttons to get rid of.

He grimaced at the rough handling. He was going to be experiencing a whole new sort of soreness tomorrow; he could already tell.

And if she wasn't careful, she was going to tear the buttons off his clothing.

He removed his hands from behind her and instead grabbed her wrists gently-yet-firmly, using his thumbs to massage her palms. Partially it was to get her to stop tearing his clothes dammit and partially to introduce her to a new sensation like she was doing to him.

Primal instinct growled at him to reverse their positions, but he didn't have enough strength for that right now even as his nerves hummed with carnal desire.

At first, Magica jerked when she was grabbed. Oh, if he was stopping her now, he was a dead man! But within seconds she could feel what he was actually doing, and it was very welcome. Now that she was alive, all of her skin was sensitive now, needing to be reminded what it was like to exist. So even those soft, gentle motions had her melting.

It also led her to slow down, not stop, her hip thrusts as it was a nice reminder that he wasn't going anywhere and now they had all the time in the world. Gods, he just felt so good. Thank goodness she'd scared off all those women, if they'd gotten a taste of this, they'd have never let him go.

Slowing down was good. That way they both might be able to enjoy this if this was really what they both wanted to do.

He broke contact with her beak, leaning his head forward to burrow his beak into her neck feathers. His warm breath blew against her neck, allowing her to feel it just before he gently scraped his teeth across her skin. While Scrooge himself had had little interest in the pleasures of the flesh, some of the people he'd previously worked with--largely the other cowboys on the Chisholm Trail--hadn't had the same restraint and hadn't always been discrete with their partners. He'd found it annoying back then, and he would've liked to have had Magica around during that time so he'd at least have had someone to talk to instead of just overhearing and catching glimpses of his fellow cowboys' coupling.

The teeth trick he'd seen when he'd once been walking back from washing up in a river and almost stepped on Jonas and...what was her name? Betty? Bridget? Some lass he hadn't paid much attention to. He wondered if Magica would like it.

Though it was probably to Magica's benefit that Scrooge hadn't been aware that she'd put in effort to drive off any potential female "dance partners", so to speak.

There was no objection to the kiss stopping, mostly because Magica had been so consumed with it that for a time she forgot how to breathe. Having a flesh body again would take some getting used to. She hadn't expected the teeth, and felt a vibrant spark of electricity all the way down her spine.

Here she thought he'd be some innocent naive babe, but apparently not. With a low moan, her chest pressed into his. "Oh, do that again." It was small, but it was plenty.

Naive? Hardly. Just because he hadn't participated didn't mean he was entirely ignorant. Minding animals would've dissolved any sort of ignorance on sex he'd once possessed. That and he'd known from a young age how his sisters came to be thanks to the thin walls of their flat and a sharp enough mind to put the noises, his mother's big belly, and new eggs together.

She was more or less lying on him now, and her hips thrusting into his was starting to prompt him to reciprocate as much as he could. Some part of him cautioned him to not get too invested in that part or Magica would be sporting a swollen abdomen of her own in a few months, something he was sure she wasn't willing to do so soon after regaining a body if at all.

Instead, he focused on her neck, deciding to flick his tongue beneath those strange green feathers, getting a sample of her taste.

That earned him another moan, deep and guttural, almost panting. If every touch of his was going to send her into a frenzy, she was going to finish before he even got inside her, and she'd probably die of humiliation before she lived a full day. It was hard to think straight, but she had to make a token effort.

If he wasn't going to let her tear his clothes to shred, she could get a head-start elsewhere.She pulled back one of her hands to undo the clasp of her cape, mentally kicking herself for wearing the dang thing ages ago when now it was a hassle. Moving too much would stop Scrooge from having her neck - and she wasn't going to stop that if she could help it - so she made do with pulling her black sleeve off with her teeth. It helped quiet, but not deafen, the continuous noises coming out of her mouth.

Maybe it was because this was a brand new body, but she tasted clean with a hint of rich bitterness, like the dark chocolate he'd once gotten a piece of. While he had more of a sweet tooth than a love of bitter things, he had to admit he liked her taste.

As she started pulling off her sleeve with her teeth, a wicked idea formed in his head. With her straddling him, there was little he could do aside from bring up one of his legs just enough to brush the space between her legs (even if the skirt did cover that area) as he allowed his beak to wander down to her cleavage, and he licked at the skin beneath her feathers just below the fabric of her blouse.

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