#my question is how in the fuck can he climb wall with those tails

[mslanna]

The Devil's Own

Chapter 10 of Be My Guest now up on AO3

Time stretches when you wait for you man to return from the war. It also stretches when he's finally back - or those thirty seconds better be just a taste.

Tav wakes refreshed and still flush against the incubus. If Haarlep got bored during their nap, they don't show.

"The House is all ours," they announce.

Rubbing sleep from their eyes, Tav yawns. "How long do such battles last? I don't want to get caught finally replacing the central pieces of the Feast Hall with dummies."

"Long enough. And if I were you," Haarlep pushes the human away a little, "I'd be much more concerned about what furniture surrounds you when Raphael returns than what he catches you doing."

Tav's ears burn, but not as hot as the unsatisfied memories of the devil's departure. "Better get the Feast Hall over with then."

"Oh, but it is a delightful notion." The incubus laughs as Tav pushes away and climbs of the bed to dress. "A location open to all sides and all the delectable dishes and drinks. Silverware clattering, the legs of table and chairs scraping over the tiles. Don't be shy about it."

Devils have no concept of privacy. Something Tav struggles with but they are willing to compromise. Not enough to get fucked on the table of the Feast Hall with all of House of Hope watching though. No. They beat the image down with a stick. Not gonna happen. Probably.

The House is eerily quiet. Eternal debtors make few noises and most hide somewhere, trying to enjoy the break. Most huddle though, crushed by the weight of guilt their actions cause them. Tav takes a deep, liberated breath though. All the fiends strutting around were encroaching, like hippos occupying your home.

After rearranging the centre piece in the Feast Hall, Tav races through the place, running their finger tips over the walls, columns and paintings.

"Lick them," Haarlep calls though they don't join the frenzy.

Tav doesn't lick anything. They turn wild circles with their arms thrown wide. For the first time in a long time they feel light and free, exhilarated by the prospect of their continued existence. After annoying the new archivist for a while Tav dances on. They dip into their own room to freshen up before they return to the boudoir.

"Water-battle?" they ask Haarlep. "If you bind a small towel up like this, makes a really soggy weapon." They wave the towel in question around.

"Finally ready to drop your panties?" Haarlep teases.

"In your wildest dreams!" Tav smacks the incubus on the ass with their towel and races for the pool. Their pained shout blubbers to the surface unheard when their ass connects painfully with the shallow floor of the pool. They sputter to the surface and wipe the water from their face.

The clear view last for a second before Haarlep joins them and Tav fights a loosing battle from the start. The incubus can use their wings like shovels to pour water over the human. Their tail gives them another unfair advance and they keep pulling Tav under the surface with it.

It's still the most fun Tav can remember having physically since they arrived. To break the cycle of violence, Tav belts out a shanty which leads to hilarious fake boating until their muscles are tired. Hooking their elbows over the edge of the pool, Tav lolls their head back and closes their eyes. They float, kicking their legs leisurely and catching their breath.

"How long do you plan to do this?" Haarlep asks.

Tav doesn't look. Unlike them, the incubus has forgone all clothing to frolic in the water. "Some time. And I consider having my scalp scraped off by the fountains afterwards."

"You do you." Splashing announces that Haarlep left the pool. "But don't dare coming to my bed wet. The only way panties are soaked there is with a personal touch."

"Still dreaming, I see." Tav lets out a content sigh. Without devils to crowd the place, the House of Hope is a great playground. They kick up warm water with their feet and watch the silver droplets splash back into the pool. Tav is killing time and they know it. But they are unwilling to admit why and how urgent it feels, that time pass.

"Getting dry and something to eat," Tav finally calls. Haarlep managed to occupy themself before their arrival they will be fine now.

After their return, Haarlep forces Tav to finish the game of lanceboard before they agree to anything else. Nervous energy builds up as the paladin sits through the ordeal and inevitable defeat.

"Rematch?" the incubus asks.

Tav sighs. "If I have to sit still another minute, I may throw the board over the balcony. And the table. And myself."

"Well, I can't let that happen." Haarlep stands and offers Tav a hand. "Let's see if we find something to get that fizzling zeal simmered down."

"What if he doesn't come back." Tav stands rooted to the floor. "What then?"

"Then my dear, we are truly fucked. And not in the fun way." Haarlep tugs them on. "I am pretty sure the one thing to garner a temporary alliance from the hells is a failed attempt to rule them all. There won't be pieces big enough to see with you eyes left of us. Plus, your soul goes straight to Mephistopheles."

Tav swallows hard. "I don't want it to."

"You're not alone in that, my sweet. Let me assure you that there are devils out there fighting to prevent exactly that. Well, one devil at least."

"What abut you? You're just doing your job, aren't you? You can go back to Mephistopheles."

"I wish devils were as simple as you." The incubus sighs. "With Raphael gone, I have limited value to the arch devil. And he certainly doesn't want a carbon copy of his son around. And if he does, not for reasons that I will find pleasant."

"Oh." Tav sits down cross-legged on the bed. "But if Raphael wins and kills his father, what then? You are not a spy any longer, but he can't draw Mephistopheles' ire any longer either. What will he do?"

"Now that," Haarlep reaches down and lifts Tav's chin so they look up at them, "that is where you come in, don't you think?"

Tav looks up into the black and cold eyes, similar to those of Raphael, off enough in their colouration to be distinct. It makes sense, suddenly. The kindness. The patience. The care. Because who in this house will speak up for Haarlep once Raphael decided he doesn't have to put up with the incubus any longer.

"What can I say, I like being alive." Haarlep lets go of their chin. "I'm not sure you will understand, looking at all the stunts you pulled."

"I – I like to be alive." I think. Tav doesn't add the last bit. "Sometimes being alive is just very exhausting. Everything is complicated and people shimmy around truth with half-lies and nobody ever says what they mean."

"And you saved all of them still."

"I live in their world, what alternative is there?"

"Make it your world of course, dumbass." The incubus shakes their head in resignation. "Lead, rule, make the laws. Have the others live in a world tailored to your needs. You didn't even think abut it, did you?"

Tav shakes their head.

"Short-sighted for even a human. Come on, let's forget about your utter folly for a while. I'm sure it's to come up soon enough. And don't look at me like that," the incubus adds. "I don't not like you. In my own way."

It is easier to just go back to merrymaking than thinking about this, so Tav does. In the curtained capsule of the boudoir, pain and problems are far away. The levity returns and they throw themself into it.

As they bellow the second chorus to 'Drums of Daggerford' jumping wildly on the huge bed, the curtain is thrown open and Raphael steps in. Tav forgets their next words and bounces clumsily onto the mattress, lims going different directions. The devil is fully armoured and dirty.

By the hells he is covered in dust and grime, gore and blood that dried to almost black sports on the armour. He sends Haarlep from the room with a nod of his head and the incubus leaves giggling with the biggest leer on their face.

Tav scrambles to get back to their feet as the devil approaches the bed dragging the smell of death and sulphur along. Though his shoulders curve in a gentle slump, the devil's black-hole eyes burn bright and he doesn't take them off Tav for a moment.

A wild grin breaks over Tav's face and as soon as Raphael is within reach, they jump at him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist. "To the victor go the spoils of war," they breathe and lean back into the devil's arms wrapping around them in turn.

"Oh, I will spoil you." The words are rough, but more of a promise than a threat.

They lean into the kiss so eagerly, their mouths clash and Tav's teeth rattle. They ignore it, drunk on the taste of Raphael and the demanding presence of his tongue searching their mouth. Bits of armour bite into Tav's flesh but they press closer still. Raphael tastes of fire and dust and the high adrenaline of fighting.

A moan escapes from between their lips that leave no space for breathing. Pent up desire breaks open and deepens the desperation. Tav's hands reach of the back of the devil's head, his hair, horns – each a lever to pull him closer.

They grind against Raphael and when with a sudden the poking armour vanishes, they break the kiss. "Cheater," they breathe, without stopping to move. Raphael only grins in anticipation and runs a hand around their bare ass, fingers slipping between their legs from behind.

At the hint of contact Tav moans and buries their face in his neck. The skin is salty with a trace of dirt. Tav eats it up, digging their teeth into the red flesh when Raphael moves his hand even deeper.

It takes little to tilt their hips and align their entrance over the hard cock. Still the devil cups their ass and holds it too high for penetration, just the tip teases. Tav digs their teeth into the devil's ear. "Spoil me!" they hiss and press down demanding satisfaction.

Tav's own greed takes over easily as Raphael gave in to his. Foreplay and coy build-up are abandoned in pursuit of releasing the pent up want. The thought of feeling Raphael inside them makes their insides wet with anticipation.

Raphael complies with a hungry grunt, slipping in fast and deep. Drunk on desire, the cock doesn't have to hit the spot. Tav leans back and the devil drops them onto the bed, running hand up their chest as he moves.

Tav leans into the motion, skin sensitive with yearning for clawed fingers that rake cuts into their skin. They arch up against the devil selfishly and Raphael answers with equally selfish thrusts for release.

Delirious with finally having Raphael all for themself, undiluted and raw, the mere feeling of the hard ridges moving back and forth side them, Tav's desire rises like a tide. Their interlocked ankles keep the devil from moving out too far, keeping the friction ever raking over their sensitive spots.

Tav pulls Raphael into another hungry kiss, locking their lips over his and sucking at his tongue as if it would move his cock deeper. In a manner of speaking, it works. Raphael quickens the pace, driven by pent up lust and diverted desires. With the real Tav finally writhing under his body, the devil lets himself go into their insistent pull.

And Tav cradles real flesh instead of dreamlike memories, memories of second-hand arousal that now wash over them in full force. It is enough to push them over the edge and their eager clenching drags Raphael right along.

Overall it doesn't take long. The naked greed is sated in a short exchange of sheer hunger. The noise of ecstasy breaks apart between their lips that do not part. Tav relaxes backwards and takes Raphael with them.

For a moment they lie breathing hard with their bodies intricately entangled. Tav runs their fingers through the devil's hair that is still coated with dust.

Then Raphael pushes himself up. The fire in his eyes burns low, taking in the sweaty body below him with hunger and satisfaction. "I think we may have to repeat this with a little less – urgency."

Tav nods still dazed from their ecstasy. The devil didn't pull out and though his cock is slack, the thought of it rigid and moving again, makes them swallow hard. They take Raphael’s face between their hands and kiss him gently, because they can.

[undertow-story]

CHAPTER 003:

PART-TIME GOD

I remember Cy, that short little bartender in The Hovel, once telling me before about how oftentimes people ask themselves a lot of questions- it was very normal actually. I’d been talking to myself out loud at that point in time because I thought this was normal as well. They made me aware that in fact- it’s apparently not, but its a habit that I’ve found very hard to break.

They gave me a lot of examples of normal questions, like: ‘How long have I been here now? When will this be over with already? Why is x person so y?’ Etc.

Not often do I have to ask myself those questions, but even less often do I need to ask myself: ‘How far exactly did I fall?’ or ‘I think my arm is broken, but I’m not entirely sure- what is a broken arm like?’.

I found myself asking a very stupid question out loud, between habit and bewilderment of:

“How the fuck did I survive?”

Sachiel grunted loudly as he very slowly rose from his ‘resting’ place. He was around the outskirts of The Undertow, further from his general hangout than usual. He was lying in a pile of trash and discarded furniture that had been carelessly dumped down an alleyway instead of properly disposed of. The chair leg stabbing into his hip was less than ideal in comfort.

I’m alive... That doesn’t make sense. None of that entire interaction made sense.

His arm was in serious pain, something more than he’d felt so far in his time of being here. He’d been shot, bitten, scratched and gnarled up... but this time around he figured something had to be broken, as the searing pain was so unfamiliar to him.

He could feel something else on his leg as well... He looked down and grimaced as he saw a rat, chewing on his flesh from a hole shredded in his dirty, black denim jeans.

He flicked the sharp, pointed end of his tail directly through it, and brought it closer to his face. He turned it carefully, left to right, and gently sniffed it- thoroughly inspecting its carcass.

It didn’t appear to be one of those demons, or diseased at least... so, naturally, he ate it in a not particularly clean or proper fashion.

He scowled to himself after doing so.

Okay. I at least have consumed something.... Now.....Can I move?

He shifted, feeling a lot of stress on his body, but he forced himself to his feet as bits of rubble and trash fell around him. He inched along the wall carefully testing the strength of his legs and feet before deciding he was at least strong enough to walk. His long tail dragged against the ground as he moved, the blackened bone at the end making a scraping sound against the uneven pavement.

He peered from out of the alley.

He wasn’t in the usual sector he resided in at all. He managed to get thrown into Theta, which was roughly two full sectors north of his hang outs.

The fuck kind of elevator did I go through?

Thankfully it wasn’t the worst transport to get through under normal circumstances- but the problem was that he was thrown close to the threshold where the infested side was and he was tired and weak.

How only a rat had managed to find him so far was surprising in itself. Looking up to see far above were the many legs and wings of creatures scurrying back and forth looking about like vultures.

Vile things.

Perhaps they were simply too small to consider him worth taking… or perhaps there was just enough lights around to deter them.

He felt at his pocket and noticed his gun was missing. There was no way in hell he would be leaving without that, not in this side of town. He made note of where he fell, trying to think of how far it may have gone. The alley was dark, but not horrible to see something shiny in at least. He made note of the staircase to his right and carefully started up it, trying to not overexert himself.

He sat himself down on the rooftop to give his legs a break after the climb. Mostly garbage down below, it was no wonder nothing saw him yet. The entire place was practically a dumping ground for random assortments of trash and furniture. Just about everywhere was like that in this entire area, oddly. He didn’t frequent this sector, it was a bit out of the way since the subway tram was usually broken down and in need of repair.

Looking around, however… it seemed more desolate than he remembered. Sure it was run down, and it wasn’t completely cased in darkness and abandoned like Sector Iota… but the amount of house lights off was almost concerning to him. He looked up from where he fell, noticing an oddly big vortex, dark and heavy with bolts of lightning bursting from within every second.

In that same moment, it vanished, something large falling from the sky from where it had once been.

He frowned and started to look around slightly more pressed.

He didn’t think the gun could have gone far from him, but at the same time he could have been looted while he was asleep- his thought was interrupted as he heard a loud screech come from above, and a vaguely shaped dark shadow descended upon him, latching onto his already injured arm.

He snarled and readied his claws to dig into it- only to find himself getting overwhelmed and swarmed by at least three others. His body was still burning and he was struggling to continue standing as he heard the sound of a gunshot whip past his ear, leaving a ringing sensation.

One of the creatures fell to the ground, spasming before falling silent. Sachiel attempted to turn his head down but was blindsided by another winged creature his face, biting his nose. More gunshots rang off, just enough to free his functioning arm as he dug his claws into the one on his face, shredding it, and his own skin in the process.

His frustration was clearly high and was still struggling to hear out of his one ear. He could, however hear a little call of a faint voice from below.

“Fangs, my boy!!”

...The bartender?

Sachiel stumbled, trying to get his footing back and ended up slipping and falling into a patch of trash bags and broken down sofa cushions. He groaned in pain, Cy rushing over to him and stopping just before the bags.

"Goodness. You look absolutely terrible." Cy's eyebrows furrowed behind the large sunglasses on their face.

"... Thanks." Sachiel sighed, giving up on moving.

"I'm glad I finally found you at least... I've been searching about for over a week for you." Cy reached out to Sachi, taking his hand.

"... A week? I wasn't out for a few hours?"

"Goodness no. I saw something falling as I was closing up shop after you took on that hit and realized it was you when I peered through my little pocket binoculars."

Sachiel shifted, getting to his feet once more, shakily.

"I'll ask about what happened later... Come back with me to the bar, I've got your gun, don't worry. I actually managed to find that before I even stumbled upon you! Only reason I think I managed to get here in time actually, its a good thing my ol' shooting arm still works now and then." Cy brushed their dapper pants off as they lead the way for Sachi to follow. "Well, with my own gun anyway, yours is awfully heavy to hold and I couldn't figure out how to reload it."

He was very tired. More than he'd ever been. He didn't usually feel that kind of exhaustion and it did happen on occasion, such as times where he chose to not sleep for days on end. He looked at his left arm, which hung beside him, unmoving and limp. He could hardly feel the arm itself- only the searing burn when he moved.

Sachi gave a quiet 'Hrmph' before following Cy, looking back up from where he fell.

He definitely had questions.

-

The bar was quiet, something Sachiel hadn't at all seen since the first time he had ever entered it.

Cy had flicked on the lights upon entry, but not the vibrant, usual lighting. It was warmer, moodier, and had no neon tones to it.

The sign on the door was still set to closed, sitting slightly ajar. It was almost nicer to be in when it was empty like this.

Sachi huffed and sat himself in one of the booths, wincing as he repositioned his arm manually. Cy was over at the counter, pouring a glass of whiskey.

Sachiel sat quietly to himself in the meantime as Cy was rummaging behind the counter. He was very tired, more than upset. Actually he wasn't too unhappy in the slightest- minus the fact he didn't get paid for his time. That, however was pissing him off.

Sachiel was mostly lost in his own mind and intrigued by the events that took place. It was a lot to take in all at once.

Cy returned to Sachi with some whiskey, and a little tray with some assorted meats on it, along with some food and drink for themself as well. They sat down in the seat across from him, nudging the plate closer to Sachi.

"...Thanks." Sachiel was a bit confused at the courtesy.

"It's on the house, I don't expect money from you, Fangs." Cy waved their hand. "I'm afraid I can't do anything about your arm, however. I'm no doctor, and nor do I know of any."

Sachiel shrugged weakily with his good arm. "... I'm not concerned about it, actually."

"Strange answer given it looks very broken! I'll inquire more about your feelings on that later, but first I must know what happened up there. How did you manage to fall from the upper levels?" Cy was oddly interested, a grin peering up on their face from over their very high sitting shirt collar.

"..." Sachiel sipped the drink. He wasn't so sure of Cy's intent, but he also had no one else to talk to about this... and they could provide some insight on what he found.

"Though, you don't have to go into it if you don't want to." They had an apologetic look on their face, realizing Sachi had kept quiet.

"I'm not used to talking about things to someone. I will go into it because I have questions you might be able to answer. You come off as shady sometimes." Sachi was perhaps, a bit too blunt.

Cy let out a loud and hearty laugh at the comment. "Oh thank goodness, I worry about seeming too nice- it's not a good thing to seem too nice around these parts after all. That's how you get used."

Sachi continued.

"I talked to the client. I found another like me... but... he wasn't exactly like me. Almost like a parody of myself."

"Another? Parody how, though? That's an odd descriptor." Cy swirled their drink.

"He looked more... monstruous. His body looked warped, like he'd been rung through one of those little machines that makes pasta." Sachi started to eat, knowing that Cy often talked a lot between his comments. It was a common thing, they'd talk even when he didn't have anything to say that day, worked out for him to sip his drink in between.

"Peculiar... So the job was the casino head, yes? I think I may know the dogs you talk of-"

Sachi interrupted immediately. "How did you know there was two?"

He had made no mention of the brother, which meant that he was right in his hunch that Cy knew far more than they ever let on. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. They seemed to jump a little at the sudden accusatory sentence as well.

"Ah! Well you're on the same page as me then as we are talking about the same dogs. Or... are they hellhounds? Anthropomorphic dog genuses isn't my specialty you see..." Cy adjusted their sunglasses. "See, I was actually looking into those two because believe it or not, horrible monstrosities were not always a problem here. Though I'm sure you wouldn't know that since no one talks about it. They mostly complain about the ones upstairs."

Sachi took off his jacket as best he could, leaving the poor, garbage smelling leather to rest on the seat next to him.

"No, no I did not know about this." He grunted.

"People don't seem to 'remember' I find. Those two appeared down here, first, actually. They were very... threatening to see. After all there wasn't many talking animals around here before their arrival. There's been plenty more since, I actually originally had strong thoughts they might be extraterrestrials! However, there's no evidence of a spacecraft and it seemed odd they spoke common, so I tossed that theory out the window."

Cy ran a hand through their messy blonde hair, in thought.

"I've been trying to get more information on those two because a friend and I have reason to believe they might be the reason you, and those things are here, actually."

Sachi tilted his head.

"...How do you figure? That's a bold claim."

"Well until those two arrived, nothing happened here. It was just a shitty place to live. Now it's a shitty place to live and a very dangerous one. I had a hunch because when they first arrived and spoke to me I found their weapons very strange." Cy took a sip of their drink, Sachi cutting in before they could start another sentence.

"I don't recall seeing a weapon from them, actually the boss... uh.. what was his name, Esther or something... he said that those two prefer brute force, and can't shoot a gun for shit." Sachi's brow furrowed, his stomach finally getting the best of him as he started to shovel food down his throat.

"Ohou! It gets stranger, not from my personal recollection- they both had interesting looking guns. Guns with no entry point to place bullets into, and yet they fired just well, actually." Cy gave a defeated sigh. "Too well, actually, they're the ones who got bulletholes in my wall at the back a couple years later. Got into a fight with a local, I had to deal with the undertaker upon his arrival, it was far too much of a hassle for my taste."

"So they lie about themselves."

"Seems to be the case." Cy sipped their drink again, tapping the table with a finger.

The two shared a silence for a moment, before Cy perked up again.

"Oh, so sorry I interrupted you and got you off track. You said you saw the dogs like you, what next?"

"During my debreifing away from the boss, Emerson, the one I spoke with... had a very strange conversation with me, implying he knows a lot about me. I don't like that. They may be spying on me..." He grunted. "After that the hit went to hell, the other brother caught me by surprise. Leapt out and interrupted me, said I was an asset to their plans, and that it was a 'good show' for their boss."

"...Hm."

"I tried to shoot Jameson, the other one... my shots all missed, except for one."

"Well that's something at least!" Cy smiled.

"I shot him in the head and it healed over." Sachiel bluntly put it, his expression unwaivering.

Cy immediately frowned.

"I was worried that was the case... I saw it too. I don't understand how that's even possible." They sighed again. It almost seemed like they wanted to hear Sachi's story to confirm their own past witnessing of events. "I thought I was just mad."

"After which I was thrown off the building and apparently unconscious for the next week according to your account." Sachi downed the last of his whiskey, shaking his head. "Here I still am. Alive. After a 900 foot fall."

"I do believe you may be the same species as them, but I'm not sure about the differences as I know nothing about your kind. You're new to us. Same with the other talking animals." Cy assured him, they did seem certain about some aspects of this. "I have a feeling you also have those healing powers but I haven't the slightest how it works."

"Mine has to be over time, I think." He at least knew this much.

"You're aware of it?"

"No, but yes. I had a hunch something was odd, my bullet wounds would heal themselves over a week or two, the bullets just pop out... no need for removal- I wasn't even aware you were supposed to take them out first... Most scars and wounds fade fairly quick... I'm wondering if this means my arm will as well." He gently placed a hand on it, gritting his teeth.

"Well! I say we should find out- listen Fangs, it seems you and I are on the same page and want to know more about these two hounds. I'm prepared to make you an offer." Cy grinned that classic little smile they usually give patrons from over the counter. "I have a spare open apartment upstairs. No one can afford the rent so it's been empty for a while... I give you board, and you let me be your 'manager'. How's that?"

Sachi was a bit taken aback. He figured they did know about him wanting a place indoors given he was complaining about it before finally taking that job... But he wasn't entirely sold.

"Manager... How?" He squinted.

"Manager as in I'll find and line up hits for you, trying to get us jobs that pay well, as well as hopefully get us another chance to see the upstairs again so we can do more digging on these two." Cy placed their hands together. "I have a lot of friends, so I usually get the down low first, I just can't hunt you see? I will say, we have to get your reputation up first so others up there will trust you. Especially since your newest hit has been marked as a failure."

"Don't remind me." He grunted once more.

"But what do you say, Fangs?" They held out a small hand to him, reaching decently far over the table. "Partners?"

Sachiel hesitated at first, but he quickly jutted a hand out to shake on it. There was no way he was going to bathe in a pond again, and he needed somewhere more safe to hide away while his arm healed itself.

"Done." He leaned back again, wincing.

"Then it's settled! I'll give you time to get used to your new space, get you your keys, and a few starting essentials. No rent, you just have to get your own food is all, and please don't make too much of a mess!" Cy jumped up, gathering their dishes to put away.

"...I'm sure I can manage that."

"Wonderful! This is going to be a lovely start to a great relationship I can tell, especially with how hard working you are- oh though I don't recommend you take on any hits until we see how that arm of yours does. I'm going to inspect it each day to see if anything changes, so please make sure to come down at least one or twice in the evening a day so I can have a look-"

"I thought you said you weren't a doctor?" Sachi interrupted, as Cy called back to him.

"I'm not! However I'm starting to think I should be!"

Sachi was not confident in that answer. He wasn't sure what he managed to get himself into, but there was a high chance that it wasn't good... However, he did at least get a roof over his head. So that much was nice.

I suppose now I can say I have a job. I guess. It's the same as my shit before, just under someone else's terms... whatever. As long as I'm not sleeping in a bin.

I still can't help but continue to come back to that scene... the things those two said. Least there's no need for a fear of heights given it's not a problem...

A whole city level, traveled so fast just from falling...

...and I didn't die. I don't believe I can't die. I'm certain I can, but this has opened a whole new world of possibilities.

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[xoxo-teddybear]

Viagra Prank - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: smut, f!receiving, male masterbation, needy Bakugou, sexual touching

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: After a dumb argument, Y/N decides to punish Bakugou by avoiding him while he’s superrrrrr horny

A/N: NOT SPELL CHECKED

Bakugou and Y/N had been arguing for an hour already. They have been talking about Y/N cheating on him.....IN A FUCKING DREAM. Yes it really scared Bakugou and he did wanna talk to Y/N about it, but he just went about it in the wrong way and so, this led to the arguing and yelling. Bakugou knew he was in the wrong, but he was too stubborn to apologize, at least verbally. Usually, that was okay for Y/N, because at least he showed when he was sorry. But this time, all she wanted was a soft and genuine “I’m sorry.”

Instead of apologizing verbally, Bakugou attempted to make up for it through his actions. He bought Y/N another teddy bear to go along with the others he got her, bought her a bouquet of roses and gourmet chocolates, and spent the entire day with her. At night, he held you close and filled your ears with sweet nothings like “I’m so lucky I have you,” “I don’t know how you deal with me, Teddy Bear, but thank you,” and “I’ll forever love you, Y/N.”

After seeing he put a little extra effort into this very “Bakugou” apology, Y/N forgave him, but she still wasn’t letting him off the hook. She wanted to punish him at least a little, but the question was “how?” She discussed it with Bakugou’s closest friends to give her ideas.

“You could ignore him all day.” The red head said, “he has a free day tomorrow, so I can imagine he plans on spending every second of it with you.”

“Nah, since he has a free day, I would love to spend time with him too. I don’t wanna ignore him, just mess with him a little to get back at him.” You said.

“What about one of those kinky couples do? A sexual punishment. Orgasm denial, overstimula-“

“NEXXTTTTT” you, Kirishima, and Kaminari said, cutting off Sero’s nasty thoughts. Besides, you and Bakugou were that kinky couple. And you knew he enjoyed all that stuff. The freaky bastard. You were getting nowhere until Kaminari said something unexpectedly smart.

“What about viagra?” He recommended.

“What?” You questioned.

“Viagra. You can buy it at any pharmacy and just crush up the pill into a powder and give it to Bakugou in a drink. It’s gonna make this man insanely horny, and to punish him, just deny him every time.” He said sipping his drink.

“I-.....that’s perfect!” You said

“Wow Kaminari, nice plan.” Mina said.

“Thank you.......hey can I get some more boneless ice?” Annddddd dunce face is back. Someone get this boy his water.

Doesn’t matter though, now all you have to do is buy the viagra and you’re set. That night, you and Mina went to the pharmacy together and bought the pills. When you went to sleep, you saw Bakugou waiting for you in the room.

“Jeez babe, what took so long? I was waiting here for like 2 hours!” Bakugou pouted. You laughed and kissed him.

“I’m sorry Suki, but not everyone goes to bed at 8 on a Friday night.” You said taking off your jacket and changing into your pjs. You climbed into bed as Bakugou defended himself.

“Well neither do I, but I woke up mad early today.” He said wrapping his arms around you. You pecked his forehead and tried to get some sleep, excited for the next day.

“Yeah, yeah you big baby. Just get some sleep.” As you both cuddled up, you layed with a devious smirk as an unknowing Pomeranian slept peacefully above you.

——————————————————————————

That morning, you woke up early with Bakugou to work out together. As Bakugou got ready, you prepped his drinks. You placed 3 bottles of water in Bakugou’s gym bag and opened up one of them. Taking the viagra pill out, you placed it in a bowl and used the bottle cap to crush the pill to a powder. You poured the dust into the water, put the cap back on and shook the bottle. After seeing the bottle still looked normal, you subtly marked it and placed it back in his bag. When he came, ready to go you gave him the bag and you guys made your way to the gym.

After working out for a few minutes, Bakugou took a huge gulp of water. You noticed it was the bottle you marked and smiled. After a few minutes, Bakugou was starting to feel...something. He didn’t know what it was, but now he was staring at you...more than usual. Your body covered glistened in your sweat and the image of you like that was burned into Bakugou’s mind. The heavy breathing you did only accentuated his need for you and the way your body looked everytime you stretched or moved. God, he knew you were hot, but something about you today just hit different.

Bakugou walked up to you and held your waist.

“Suki?” You looked up at him with an innocent face that made him bite his lips.

“Do you wanna get outta here? I think we’re set on workouts for today, Princess.” He said while staring at your body and chest.

“Oh, sure! Let me just get my stuff and-“ you were cut off when Bakugou gripped your ass with both hands and tongued you down, he pushed you up against the wall and began grinding into you. You felt his growing erection press up against your sensitive heat which made you moaned into the kiss. This made Bakugou even needier. Unfortunately, you weren’t giving in so easily today.

“Hah...S-Suki..” you breathed out while pushing him off you slightly. “C’mon..can we at least get out of here and wash up.”

“Why? We can do that after I completely ravish you,” Bakugou smirked as he attempted to kiss you once more but you pushed him back smiling.

“Sorry Suki, but we need to get back. Okay?” You said and walked away as Bakugou rolled his eyes taking another sip of water. You both walked out but with Bakugou being a lot more handsier. You walked and he would jog up behind you and grab your ass, he would walk with his arms wrapped around your waist while standing behind you, and once you reached your dorm room, he shut the door and slammed you against it grabbing your chest and kissing you again with fervor and tongue. Sadly, once again, you pushed him off.

“Shower first Suki.” You said and walked to get some clothes out of your closet. Bakugou just sighed and banged his head against the door. He looked down and saw his friend creating a tent in his sweatpants and he let out a breath a horny frustration. Then an idea hit him.

“Shower sex?” He said hopefully like a happy puppy, and if he had a tail, please believe it’d be wagging.

“No.” Bakugou just growled and flopped onto the bed and face planted down on the cushion.

“Fineeeeee!!!!!” He complained while his voice muffled by the mattress. While you showered, you left a needy Bakugou on the mattress. He could only imagine what you looked like. Curvaceous body, covered in droplets of water, steam all around you making your cheeks red. Bakugou rubbed at his face. Why the fuck was he this horny?

When you walked out, you were wearing a small towel as you seemed to have used your wind quirk to dry your hair. Bakugou licked his lips as he walked up to your almost naked body and felt you up. He kissed up on your neck as you tilted your head to give him more access. You pressed your ass into his crotch as he grinded into you. You could hear his soft moans. His hand traveled to grope your chest and the other hand went to your clit.

“You want me to feel up on this sweet little cunt?” He asked as he pressed two fingers into you and you gasped.

“A-ah...” you moaned out as your tongue rolled out of your mouth and eyes rolled to the back of your head. You almost gave in to his desires until your phone rang, snapping you out of your trance. You pulled his hand away from you and walked to your phone but not before Bakugou tried pulling you back.

“Hey..where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you.” He said pulling you towards him.

“Katsuki..”

“Please, Princess. I need you..now.” He said as he grabbed your ass.

“Baby, seriously. Get washed up and let’s continue our day. Please?” You pouted and Bakugou sighed and gave in. He grabbed some clothes he kept in your closet and went to wash up. You sighed in relief and checked your phone only to see it was spam, but still glad it snapped you out. As you got dressed, you cursed yourself for falling so easily for Katsuki.

‘That damn Katsuki. Knowing my body, using it against me. Who the hell does he think he is being built like a Greek god like that?’ You thought as you dressed yourself.

While Bakugou was in the shower, he realized he needed to calm down. Yes he has an amazingly hot girlfriend he could fuck to settle him down, but it was clear she wasn’t down for morning sex today so he had to solve it himself.

He let his head rest under the hot water as his hand went to grab at his length and move vigorously. He imagined the way Y/N would look with her pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, swallowing all of him. How she would take his entire length in her tight little cunt, squeezing him perfectly.

“Y-Y/N...fuck..faster..” he moaned out with a breathy voice as he moved his hips, fucking his hand. He groaned and threw his head back.

“C-C’mon baby...s-shit, c’mon. Oh fuck..I’m cumming! ....a-ah!” He said as his hips stuttered and his release covered the shower floor. He sighed as he tried to regain his breath from his orgasm. It wasn’t as good as it would’ve been if it was actually you, but nonethe less, he came. Sadly, he still wasn’t satisfied.

As Bakugou walked out in nothing but a towel, he tried to get dressed but the second he saw you, his hard on returned. Oh, this was gonna be a long day.

——————————————————————————

All throughout the day Bakugou tried his best to get you in bed, and when his advances always failed, he resorted to feeling up on you or running to the bathroom for release.

You had to admit, rejecting Bakugou’s attempts had gotten harder and harder. For each time he touched you, you basically had to leave yourself hanging. You felt yourself grow wetter each time to a point where even you almost went to hide away in your room and please yourself. Thankfully, it was almost midnight, meaning the day would be over and your punishment for Bakugou would be done. Then, you both can explore your desires.

It was late LATE into the night when Bakugou busted into your room as you were watching a movie. You paused the screen and spoke to him.

“Suki! You can’t just barge in like that, you’re gonna break my do-“

“Shut up” he said as he made his strides over to you and shut you up by tonguing you down. You fell into the kiss and returned it, kissing him with just as much passion. You peaked open your eyes and looked at the time. 11:47. ‘So close,’ you thought to yourself. You reluctantly pushed him away again.

“Suki..no,”

“Suki, yes.” He whined back as he attempted to kiss you again but you stopped him once more. He was getting fed up. He lifted you by your hips, tossed you flat on your back on the bed, and used his arms to cage you in. His hands pinned your wrists to the sides of your head and his knees were pressed into the mattress at the side of your hips. He got close in your face before speaking.

“You owe me an explanation, princess. I get not wanting to fuck on busy days or during a certain time but all day? I’ve tried to get you right here where Ive wanted you and you rejected me each time. Tell. Me. Why.” He said each word with poison on his tongue. You cringed at what you thought his reaction would be, but soon came to the conclusion that you’d have to tell him at some point.

“...Punishment” you said with a hopeful smile, praying that your boyfriend won’t fling you out the window. Bakugou looked at you with wide eyes.

“What?” He squinted his eyes at you and asked.

“You were acting like an idiot the other day and it pissed me off. I accepted your apology and forgave you but you weren’t completely off the hook. So I put viagra in your drink to turn you on and deny you as a punishment.” You cringed at how easy it was for you to tell him the truth. Bakugou looked at you with a confused look, then a smirk.

“So...you drugged my drink to get me riled up so I could fuck you? Didn’t know my teddy bear was so freaky,” he said licking your neck.

“What?! No! It’s not like tha- ah!” You were interrupted as Bakugou gripped into your chest.

“Then whats it like, teddy bear? Rejection? Well you’re not denying me now. Why not?” He asked you. But you had no answer for him anyway, so as far as he knew, he was right.

“That’s what I thought,” he said while continuing the attack on your neck. “I’ve been so neglected all day, I think as an apology gift, you should let me have my way with you. Doesnt that sound fun, princess?” He said the last sentence while letting his finger press against your clothed clit. You moaned at the feeling and felt yourself growing wet.

“K-Katsuki!” You moaned.

“Please, Princess?” He asked..practically begged.

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Enjoying the feeling of his pads rubbing into you. You arched your back and gave in, spreading you legs for him. Bakugou smirked and was quick to remove your shorts and panties. Excited, he went to feast right away. No teasing, no waiting. He’s right into it, enjoying his meal. Sucking and kissing your bud, his eyes shut as he enjoys hearing your moans and tasting your sweet nectar.

The sudden feeling of his tongue hitting you and eating you out had you shivering. The massive amount of pleasure was so sudden, you could’ve cum right then.

“S-Suki! ...m-more!” You said as your hands went to grab at his hair. Bakugou groaned as you tugged and sent his tongue right into your hole. You cried out in such ecstasy that you legs began to shake.

“Cum on my tongue, Princess. Let me taste you,” Bakugou said before he went right back in. When you came, Bakugou lapped up every drop of you, savoring your flavor. He went up to kiss you and allowed you to taste yourself.

“God I want you so bad princess..” Bakugou breathed out as he released himself from his pants and lined up with your cunt. He rubbed his tip up and down your opening and you moaned in excitement.

“Let me have my way with you, Y/N.” He said in your ear as he pressed in. You wanted and needed him now. You looked at the time and saw, 11:56. Screw it.

“Please Katsuki! Use me! Please fuck me!” You begged. Smirking at your neediness, Bakugou slammed into you. Not giving you any time to adjust, Bakugou kept to his word and had his way with you. His pace was going so fast it had you seeing stars.

“Y-yes Katsuki! F-uck.....Mm,” you cried out. Bakugou lifted your hips to hold onto you and fuck you in a deeper angle.

“Shit....like that, Princess?” He said said with a smile as he kissed your neck.

“M-more Katsuki!” You begged again. Bakugou held onto your hips and kept his steady pace for awhile. He smacked your ass and kissed you deeply, exploring every inch of your wet cavern.

“You thought it was okay to fuck around with me like this? Huh princess?” He said smacking you again. You moaned at the contact and he gripped your ass. He grabbed your legs and put you in a mating press. The new angle reached deep inside you and hit the most sensitive spots. You screamed his name as he continued to fuck you with his head thrown back.

“Gotta keep quiet now...can’t let the whole class know what’s happening in here,” he huffed out “or maybe you want them to know. Yeah? You want them to know how much of a slut you are just for me?” He teased.

“Ohhh..yesss Katsuki.” You moaned. His cock was sliding into you perfectly, making you dizzy and drunk on euphoria.

“Yeah, but you’re my slut. Right? My dirty little slut. All for me, and me only.” He said as he placed his arms next to your head.

“I’m yours Katsuki! Just yours...ah!” You clenched around him. You could feel the way his balls slapped your ass everytime he thrusted into you. The sounds of skin slapping and your wet cunt filled the air and made a melody you’d never forget. In the heat of the moment, you began to feel the familiar knot in your belly.

“F-fuck. Cum for me princess, I want you to spill in on me.” Bakugou said. He went deeper, harder, and faster. Whatever it took for your pleasure. As he went in, you felt the knot become loose as you came on Katsuki’s dick and your legs shook. You cried out in pleasure as Bakugou continued to chase his own release. After a few more deep strokes, Bakugou met his high and climaxed. He filled your womb with cum and layed there as he emptied his load. You both layed there in silence, catching your breaths as you both came down from the high.

Instead of pulling out, Bakugou stayed where he was and just leaned in closer to you.

“You done messing with me, Princess?” He asked you. You let out a breathy yes as he kissed your cheek and pulled out. He layed beside you and cuddled into you as he held you close.

“I don’t know. I’m kinda satisfied with how this turned out.” You teased. Bakugou only let out a quick laugh in disbelief at his wild girlfriend and just kissed her.

“You’re crazy.” He said while holding you closer.

“But you love me,” you said.

“Yeah..I do.” He said as he rested his head against you. While basking in the glow of the after sex peace, Bakugou realized something.

“Umm..Y/N?” He started.

“Hm?” You said in a sweet voice, with your eyes still closed and you still cuddled into his chest.

“I’m, uh...I’m sorry..for how I was acting.” He apologized. This made your eyes burst open. He was apologizing..verbally. You looked up at him and gave him a sweet, passionate kiss.

“Thank you Katsuki, but I already forgave you. Remember?” You giggled. A sound that Bakugou will forever remember. A sound he will forever enjoy hearing. He just sighed and leaned into you even more, trying to communicate all his love through the physical contact you were both having.

“I don’t deserve you, Princess” he said as his eyes began to fall heavy into a deep sleep.

“You deserve me and the whole world Katsuki.” You said with love dripping in your voice.

“You are my whole world,” he mumbled in embarrassment as a blush adorned his face as he attempted to hide away in your neck. You blushed and smiled at his little confession and allowed him to sleep. It was past his usual bedtime after all.

“Get some rest, Hero.” You said, pecking his forehead with a loving kiss. As he drifted off, you just smiled and rested your eyes as you thought about the next time you would drug his drink. This little viagra prank turned out amazing.

A/N: y’all this was so sloppy😭 it could’ve been so much better but it’s been sitting in my drafts mocking me. I just had to get it out here. I’m sorry it’s not spell checked but I hoped you enjoyed it none the less. (The smut was so bad😭😭) see you next time, Cubs💗🧸

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt10

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature.

Previously

With no other option he uses his wing to grab Mammon’s attention it works and use other talon to pinned down his wing freeing Lucifer’s arm. And quickly reach in grabbing the book out of his coat and start reading it then his eyes turning more demonic with each word and starting to feel his body shifting to his demonic form.

“Do you how long we have to keep walking for Satan?” Belphie is whining with walking they been doing, as he, Levi, Beel with unconscious Asmo being carried by Beel following Satan who is following the spell he cast onto Lucifer. Leading them deeper in the woods.

“This spell only helps me by making an invisible rope around Lucifer’s ankle not how long we have to walk.” Satan answers Belphie’s question.

Suddenly Beel start sniffing around as if he caught a scent of something, and start running towards it.

“BEEL!!” Levi screams to stop call Beel back causing the other two to look back.

“Beel come back!” Belphie and Levi chase after Beel, leaving Satan to facepalm and start following the spell without them.

“They got Beel with them, they’ll be fine and I should be fine. Right?”

“Beel don’t ran of like that you’ll get lost and you’re carrying Asmo~” Belphie cuts himself off when he saw what Beel tracking.

“Y/N!!!” Belphie runs towards and tackling you, causing you to drop the food you been gathering.

You blink the shock out of you “Belphie you’re here! You found us” your start to get teary eye and sobbing as you return the hug and tighten it to make sure that this isn’t a dream.

Levi and Beel rush over to you two, Levi immediately wraps his arms and tails around you squeezing into almost bone crushing embrace, while crying of a storm and sobbing. You try to say something but your being crushes by two of most powerful demons right now.

“Levi let go your crushing them!”

“And you aren’t!” the two-demons let go, for you to gasp for air, then Beel walks over. With a smile of happiness and relief. Since you saw that his hands were full, you gave a bear and nuzzle into chest.

“We’re so happy we found you”

“I miss you guys too” as you hug Beel, and you felt a hand pat your head making you to look up to see who it was. It was a tired Asmo with a sleepy smile at you.

“How did you guys find these woods?” you let go from the hug and asks around.

“We followed Mammon~”

“Shit!” you cut off Beel “You mean his already back! I need to go back to the cave. His going to flip if he can’t find me” you quickly grab the fruits from the ground and quickly head back to the cave with the demons following from behind.

“Is that Satan!” you see him at the mouth of the cave looking inside from the side. Ran beside him “Satan~” he quickly covers mouth and shushing you.

“If Mammon hears you, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Lucifer” you grab his hand and took it off from your mouth.

“What do you mean?” but he could answer you Mammon shrike inside and unfamiliar one mixes in with his. “Mammon!” mutter and quickly run inside, ignoring Satan’s call.

The others finally made it to the cave next to Satan.

“What’s happening?” Belphie asks and Satan click his tongue and turn to look at Belphie.

“Lucifer is in there, fighting Mammon”

“What!! And you’re just standing out here while Lucifer and Mammon are killing each other inside the cave”

“Well, I haven’t gone in yet all I know is that my spell broke 10 mins away from here, luckily I could hear Mammon’s shirking and I believe to be Lucifer’s so I just follow that sound then I end up here”

“We have to do something! Maybe~”

“Levi, those are two of the most powerful demons in there who are in their demonic form right now. If you want to get yourself killed, be my guest” but before Satan gesture to go in jokingly, Levi rushes inside. “Levi!?! I didn’t mean literary…... FUCK looks like we’re going in”

“You know…… that we can stay here and~”

“y/n is in there…” not even a second past, Belphie runs in, with Beel and Asmo who is being carried by him is far behind. Satan let a long sigh being to walk in the cave where trouble is bound to happen.

“You Son of…… do you have any idea how long we been looking for you and y/n~” Mammon shrikes at Lucifer who gets angrier by each pasting minute and slowly losing his calm and collected demeanor.

“I can do this all-night Mammon; you did this to yourself now chance back or ELSE!!” Lucifer is practically yelling at Mammon like he was still himself a month ago.

But all Mammon did was throw rocks and bones at Lucifer. Who even with a broken arm and his mind getting more feral by the hour is manage to dodge everything that Mammon is throwing at him? With a cocky smile like his enjoying this.

“What going on?” Levi is asking you, but you’re just standing with mouth and eyes widen open in disbelief to what you’re witnessing below you. You couldn’t answer him.

Belphie, Beel and Asmo got there and they are stunned by what’s happening. But once Satan got there, he’s was the how finally did something. Yelling and calling out the two brothers fighting down there.

“The FUCK!?! Are you two doing! You two can’t even stop arguing even you’re like THIS!!”

The two demonic being whip their head towards the mouth of the cave.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! SATAN” Lucifer yell while Mammon shrike aggressively and immaturely. But then he saw you standing there, all of the sudden his whole demeanor change into happy and excited, like a puppy seeing his owner back from work. With his tail wagging and eyes widened with joy.

He quickly run towards you, scaling the wall like it was nothing using his talons to climb. Once he got to you, he quickly grabs you pulling you away from his brothers. Keep you close to his chest with one winged arm and quickly scaled back down and dashes pass a confuse Lucifer heads toward the nest.

He jumps and flop on the nest on his back while hugging you tight. He nuzzles his forehead on face while mixture of cooing and purring in happy and joy comes off from him. “I sorry I left; I was getting some food…… we’re you worried that you did see once you got back?” he dramatically nodded with his eyes close. “Owww, I sorry I made you worried” you kiss the side of his face, causing him to purr like crazy and start playfully preening you. Making you giggle and laugh; you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him and he did the same thing with winged arms covering your entire body with only your head pop out and his tail slam up and down making noise with coins in the nest.

While you two were reuniting, the others flew down into the cavern, and walk toward Lucifer who is watching all of this unfolded.

“Why the hell happen to you, you look like you didn’t finish~”

“The spell!” Lucifer cuts off Satan with grouchy tone “when Mammon and I struggling, I grab the book out of my coat and start read the spell and my body start to change, but then Mammon knock the book off my hand causing the spell to stop and this happen” Lucifer show his taloned arm to his brothers slowly turning it to show how it changed.

Lucifer is still in his demon form more so, more demonic with his wings gotten bigger, both arms and legs are now black talons like an eagle with more humanoid with black feather sprouting out at where the talons ended. And one of his eyes turn demonic with the sclera ink black and the iris fairly glowing crimson red and a tail with seven peacock feathers at the tip of it.

“Well…… at least your still you Lucifer” Asmo finally got off from Beel’s back and cheerful comments at Lucifer’s predicament. “You still have some control and Hey! You still have your handsome face” he giggles, earning him a deadpan stare from not just Lucifer but also Satan and Belphie.

“Looks like their asleep” Beel points at the two of you sleeping in nest, with you laying on your stomach on top of Mammon with your head resting on crooks of his neck as he sleeping on his back with one winged arm blanketing your body.

“I think they have the right idea” Belphie comment letting out a yawn “we can deal with this tomorrow, we been at it for hours, we need to sleep.” For once all of them agree and nodded at Belphie who sleepy smiled.

All of them start setting up where they are to sleep. Levi and Asmo lay next to each other with their back facing towards each other near by the nest. Belphie found a pile of old fabrics and flop himself on top of it and immediately fall asleep, Beel lean back on the pile and start falling asleep.

Once all of his younger brothers are asleep all expect one, Lucifer walks over to the wall where the mouth of the cavern is, and lean back and slide down in exhaustion right next to Satan, who is still awake.

“Lucifer for once get some sleep” he let out a dry laugh at his brother blunt way of caring before dozing off to sleep, and Satan followed suit.

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

[fandom-monium]

Bonding

Summary: In which you suddenly transfer into the BAU, and Spencer is too socially awkward. (alternatively, the failed attempts Spencer makes trying to connect with you.) “You’ve been profiling me, Doc?”

Word count: 2.3k+

Tags/warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, another attempt at gender neutral reader so no pronouns, Fluff(??), kind of first meeting (?), Spencer Reid pining is everything (what an adorable loser), Spencer socially awkward is also everything, reader insert, mild social anxiety (??), no big warnings except a couple fucks and damns

A/N: TO MY TODOROKI FANS: YES, I’M STILL ALIVE. SOULMATE AU EP 5 IS STILL UNDERGOING EDITS. COMING SOOON~ THX FOR WAITING!

New beginnings are scary, Spencer Reid understands that more than anything. A fish out of water at school, thriving in all academics; it came naturally to him, but the rest... well being over six years younger than his classmates didn’t make things much easier. It winded him trying to connect with his peers. He gave up eventually, no one bothering to extend a line to him, and when they did, it wasn’t out of good intentions. He learned that new things are terrifying, be ready for the worst.

So when you stride into the bullpen without so much as a notice, no one’s prepared. Not even you, Spencer notices, your hands flexing at your sides. You shove them into your pockets as you politely smile.

“Everyone, this is SSA (First Name) (Last Name), our newest member of the team,” Hotch introduces.

They manage a welcome but introductions are cut short as a new case presents itself with severe urgency. 

Garcia whines, unprepared for your arrival. You later reassure her it’s fine, but Spencer figures you’re relieved by the way your shoulders relax.

Oddly enough, the way you ease into their team dynamic is almost instantaneous. Not like the way a puzzle piece fits because that would imply that the team is a set when in reality it’s changing; not often but it happens. 

No, your addition is similar to a LEGO brick.

You slip into the role of profiler with ease. You hesitate at first, but your voice doesn’t tremble in the slightest as you offer your own opinions and observations pertaining to the case. You provide them support much like the base of a LEGO model. 

Later on, when Spencer divulges this to you, you smack him hard enough he bruises. You equate him to a peach. But you grin, and the ache fades almost instantly.

Spencer would go as far as to say he respects you, despite not knowing anything about you at the moment. Your devotion shines through whatever hesitancy you had earlier, and though your debut to them was hurried, your dedication is not lost to the team, prompting them to give you the welcome you deserve.

As a result, they make an effort the next couple weeks. A “united force of camaraderie”, Garcia calls it.

Hotch and Rossi go to you, whether you’re at your desk or called to them. Usually, it’s for an extra opinion on a case because you’re fresh eyes. From his desk across from yours, as he inconspicuously watches you purse your lips, attempting not to smile at your seniors, Spencer realizes you do think differently than the rest of them. It’s slight but not too obvious. Maybe it’s because you’re new; you’ve only joined a week ago, or maybe it’s because the team has known each other for so long they’ve learned to predict what they’d say. He isn’t sure.

You do your best to answer them before returning to your assigned tasks.

While Morgan normally makes jokes and teases, he switches his methodology with you for reasons Spencer can’t infer. Instead, he manages to include you in whatever he is doing if you’re within the vicinity. You respond in kind before quickly moving on. 

Jokes and teasing come soon.

In an attempt to naturally get to know you, JJ and Prentiss question you, not like interrogating of course but⎼from what Spencer overhears (he just happens to be within earshot, totally not eavesdropping)⎼sometimes when they border on personal, he notes your swift change in body language. Like they hit a switch: open to closed. And when you answer them, you never give more information than asked for, quick to redirect the conversation. He’s certain they notice as well, but they don’t push. 

Your gratitude is evident in the soft quirk of your lips.

To his chagrin, Spencer isn’t as bold as his friends. When you interacted with each other, it was by extension of the team starting it or on the job so mainly professional. He isn’t even sure why he finds it so hard to talk to you because it’s not like you’re intimidating. 

Okay, maybe just a little. 

But he won’t let that hinder him. You deserve your spot on the team, and, just like the rest of his team, Spencer wants to do his part in making you feel welcomed.

Which means he has to talk to you, and not just about work for once.

Unlike the rest of his team, however, Spencer has to build up courage, frustrating him more than he’d like to admit because sometimes he misses his chance. For example, this morning: you stood at the coffee maker, burying your face in a book as you waited for it to finish brewing. He recognized the cover immediately but when he opened his mouth to rant to you, he choked.

Spencer Reid choked. He never chokes, not when it comes to books. But the words died in his throat, not even making it past his lips. Never had the doctor been so baffled with himself. He scoured his memories for signs, anything that would justify his stumble, yet there was nothing that rationalized this occurrence. He didn’t have this problem before. At least... not with other coworkers.

He cleared his throat to try again, but, to his dismay, you filled your mug and left.

On the other hand, Garcia is the most upfront with you, which leaves Spencer simmering because he would give anything to have that kind of confidence. Although, he can tell the tech analyst’s friendly demeanor almost… annoys you? No, that’s not right. You don’t outwardly dismiss Garcia when she catches you, and when he says catch, he means catch, as in he witnessed you on multiple occasions going out of your way to avoid the colorful hacker.

A month has passed since you joined the BAU. As he arrives early that morning, Spencer spots you down the corridor, and normally that wouldn’t pique his interest, but the way your eyes sweep the halls in every direction is too much. He snorts, nearly spitting out his coffee.

Curious, Spencer trails after you; he slows his pace, careful to maintain distance so that he would be at the end of the hallway and you at the other. You eventually come to a halt, making him freeze mid-step. His heart drops to his stomach. Oh god, did you notice him following you? Of course you did. You actually completed the FBI fitness exams.

But you don’t turn to him. Instead, you press your back against the wall, and as you peek over the edge, he wordlessly makes his way over. His curiosity overrides any nerves. He leans to peer over your shoulder at whatever you’re tailing and…

Ah, he gets it now.

At the end of the hallway by the elevators, Garcia stands a vibrant Sphinx among a sea of dark pantsuits and white-collared button downs, tapping her foot as she waits. Spotting the (your favorite color) paper bag in her hand, he thinks it’s safe to assume it’s another attempt to get you to warm up to her. The tech analyst purses her lips, pulling up her watch.

“Come on, come on…” You mutter, your eyes flicking down at your own.

Spencer glances at you, unsure of what you are waiting for. A minute passes.

Then Garcia looks at her watch again, letting out a frustrated huff. The elevator dings open behind her, allowing her to trudge into the crowded metal box, and the second the door closes over her disappointed pout, you sigh in relief.

The word tumbles out of Spencer’s mouth before he even processes what he’s doing. “Morning.”

You shriek, whirling to face Spencer only to smack into his chest. Though he prides himself in the growth spurt he hit as a teenager, Spencer isn’t at all sturdy and buff as Morgan, so, despite your close proximity, you nearly knock him and his precious coffee over. Luckily, your reflexes are faster than his and you clasp the front of his vest, tugging him into you. He fumbles with his free hand, catching your elbow. “I’m so sorry!”

It takes a moment for you both to compose yourselves. Before Spencer can fully register your hand steadying his wrist, you step back. Something inside him deflates.

"Don't scare me like that," You press your hand over your heart as you start towards the elevator. He follows next to you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help but watch the whole,” Spencer gestures at you with his coffee cup.

You groan, smashing the elevator button, “Alright, go ahead.”

“Go ahead with what?” His brow furrows. The elevator doors open, allowing you to enter. He hits the button for the BAU floor, and the doors shut with only you two, standing side by side.

“Tell me I’m a bad person, tell me I’m mean or whatever for dodging someone as nice as Garcia. I know you want to,” You grumble, not looking him in the eye.

“I don’t think that.”

The skeptical look you throw him makes him blurt out the words before they could get stuck in his throat. "I mean, it’s clear you don’t dislike Garcia. You give her your full attention whenever she's talking to you, you gratefully accept her gifts despite your obvious discomfort, which seems to spur her on by the way. Actually, you display similar mannerisms with everyone in the team⎼”

Your brows climb your forehead as Spencer digs himself further into the profile hole he made of you. He spills the numerous observations he mentally filed away, and as he rambles he finally understands how his coworkers, probably every person he’s ever rambled to, feel because oh god, now even he wants himself to shut up! Shit, what is he doing? Why? How to stop?

It’s one of those moments in life where words are out of his mouth before he realizes this is not the time or place⎼it certainly isn’t his place⎼ for this, to be profiling you the way he is doing right now.

Yet here we are.

In his head, he’s screaming but it’s too late, and when he finishes seconds later, there’s a beat of silence. You gawk at him. His eyes widen as his chest heaves; his heart pounds like it’s about to break out and escape.  

Then you glare at him, a playful gleam in your eyes. “You've been profiling me, Doc?” 

Oh god, let this elevator break down and drop him. Wait, no, that would kill you too. Fuck.

Spencer swallows, his face growing hot. He tells himself it’s because he just embarrassingly gave a near complete profile of you, unwarranted, definitely not because of the way you say his title. He could apologize⎼he should⎼but his mind blanks and anything else he has to say dies as his throat closes on him. He tugs at his collar, turning to face his pink reflection in the elevator doors.

To his relief, you chuckle, “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Should've expected nothing less from a genius.” 

“Thank you?”

The doors open and you exit. Before you reach the glass doors, Spencer, biting his lip and unwilling to let the first real conversation he has had with you to end, gathers the remains of his confidence to tap your shoulder. You face him, your expression curious as you halt in front of the BAU headquarters.

Clutching the strap of his bag, he stammers, “Do… Do you want me to talk to Garcia? I mean, I won’t tell her we talked of course. I’ll make a suggestion or something⎼make it seem like it’d be her idea⎼I guess. Might help her tone it down, you know? For you?” He cringes at the last bit, his voice octaves higher than normal. God, what is he, thirteen? How he regrets his boldness. 

If you notice, you don’t mention it. Rather, you give him a onceover, and he tries not to squirm as your sharp eyes scan his face, his body language. You’re sizing up his character, profiling him the way he did with you. The difference is he had a month; you have a few seconds. “You’d do that for me?” You question softly.

Terrified his voice will betray him again, Spencer nods. 

“I⎼” You lick your lips, searching for the right words. Then you smile, a genuine smile, not the shy ones you offered to the team before. It's not awkward or polite. This is way better; your eyes crinkle, there's teeth, and Spencer squints, unsure whether to stare or grab his sunglasses in his satchel because wow, too bright. 

Both. He can totally do both.

I’d do a lot of things for you... as long it’s legal, a tiny voice in the back of his head admits. Spencer can’t bring himself to argue.

“I appreciate that.” Oh right, conversing. He shrugs. “No, really. I know that I’m being stupid and irrational⎼” He opens his mouth to protest. Social anxiety⎼any thing that makes you uncomfortable⎼ is most definitely not stupid. But you shake your head at him. “⎼No, I know I am, and I should get over it as quickly as possible but…” You trail off, glancing to the side.

Spencer follows your apprehensive gaze through the glass doors into the BAU headquarters. It’s early morning, people dawdling around the office, calmly going about their morning routine. It lacks the usual organized bustle as people stand in the corners and chat by the coffee machine, while others take calls or type at their laptops with an air of serenity. A rare, mellow day.

Before you can complete your sentence, Morgan speeds past you, bee-lining for the doors. “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a case!”

Spencer sighs. Spoke too soon.

You both follow behind him without question, leaving your thoughts unfinished, but Spencer catches the impish grin Morgan throws him over his shoulder. He curses under his breath, promises of his friend’s destruction on his lips. 

Just when he was starting to have an actual conversation with you.

Needless to say, eyebrows raise when he drags himself to the round table a couple seconds after you.

Author’s note: You can’t tell me that Reid pre-prison did NOT love action figures, figurines, LEGO models. He is a total nerd, it’s genetic.

So, I just started watching CM since it’s on Netflix. I now love this pipe cleaner with eyes. Can’t tell if I want to caress his lovely jaw or watch him squirm though...

I am basing this one(?)shot on how I get overwhelmed by friendly people. Not to say I don’t like Garcia, bc I love her, she’s one of my fav characters. But at the same time, thanks, I have mild social anxiety. I remember in my COLL 01 class, this guy was making an effort to socialize with our project group mates with invites to hang out together. I could not even. It was like the first day of class, like, chill, my guy.

Also, I‘m sad that I can’t imagine Reid with anyone that isn’t not interesting?? Sad bc I’m such an average person so when I project myself, it feels more unrealistic than it already is and hurts just a bit. I favor the idea of him being with like wild ppl, opposites attract, dumbass and smartass, badass and geek dynamics, stuff like that???

So, the reader’s back story is gonna be hella mysterious and stuff... ;P

And, I’m really into the idea of a Spencer Reid x Hunter!Reader. May try my hand at a CM x SPN crossover in the future. Only problem is that I haven’t finished SPN...

I’m accepting suggestions and ideas!!

Connecting (Bonding Part 2) is in masterlist!

[kikyan]

The monster I've become

Yandere Eren Yeager x female!Reader

Not a single voice was present and no one else besides you and your younger sibling were present. Constantly running for your life and hiding away from them. 

The Titans

It's shocking that you have lived this far but you have been hiding under a basement ever since the wall had been breached and only came out when your supplies were low.

" A-Are they up there?" You brother (B/N) asked in a timid manner.

You put a hand on his shoulder and smiled brightly.

"Don't worry! Your big sister will protect you!" Reassuring him made his smile grow weakly, but at least he carried a smile.

Opening the latch and closing it quickly, but gentle at the same time. You quickly made your way into the building and began looking around. Luckily this building still had a roof that protected you a little and covered you from the beasts eyes. Looking to your left you saw a titan walking and immediately crouched down and hid.

You waited until it left and proceeded to walk around the building. Luckily aside from building a nice little basement it had some tunnels that stretched to the market place where you could easily sneak into. You gently lowered yourself down and began walking in the tunnel. Upon arriving you got up and looked around. The tunnel connected to a basement in the marketplace that stores excessive amounts of food but to your disbelief there wasn't a lot of food left.

' I could have sworn that the last time I checked there was more food! Even if it did rot it would still be there but it isn't.' You pondered your thoughts more and more but your stomach sank when you heard a 'click' from the entrance to the basement. You quickly hid yourself in some blankets and hoped for the best. You thought that it was impossible for a human to be here aside from your brother and that if it were a titan you would be safe as long as it didn't see you nor hear you.

Clicking sounds were heard and a voice startled you.

" Oi sasha don't sneak in here! If we're caught we'll be in big trouble!" A hushed voice began spending, the voice sounded deep and the voice following after it sounded more like a screech.

" I can't help it connie! I'm just hungry all the time!"

" Both of you need to stop eating before we all get caught! That's for everyone sasha okay?!" A deep raised voice began speaking to both 'connie' and 'sasha'. You peeked and saw a male with brown hair and blue eyes speaking to a female who had medium length brown hair in a pony tail with light gold eyes who was stuffing her face with food.

" It wasn't me?! It was her?! I only followed her!" A male with light brown hair kept nicely shaved with gray eyes began speaking and in attempt to plea for his innocence.

"Eren, we should go." A soft monotone voice spoke. Peering your eyes over you saw a beautiful female with black hair and gray eyes. You beloved that the boy with blue eyes was named Eren and luckily they had plans on leaving. Unfortunately, fate had other plans as Eren began walking around the room.

"Aside from food we can find some things that can help us and the others." He picked up pliers and examined them. As he began examining the room the closer he got to your hiding spot.

'Shit'

" Like this blanket!" Connie ran to the blanket and pulled it off revealing you to them. A surprised scream emitted from connie alerted the others and the black haired female ran to Eren as he began running to you.

" W-Who are you?" Demanded Eren and you slowly began to get up from your hiding spot.

" My name is (Y/N) and along with my younger brother, I believe we should be the only living residents here. If you excuse me I would appreciate it if you stopped shoving our food down your mouth.

" This is our food by right!" Yelled Sasha protectively clutching the food.

"Tch. Listen, this is our food. My brothers and mine. We've been feeding from here since the wall was destroyed so I suggest you leave before something happens." In a intimidating manner you seem to only fuel them more but before any of you guys had the chance to say anything. A small scream pulled you from your discussion.

"(B/N)!!" Not giving a damn you yelled and ran to save your family with the four people you met following you behind your trail. Diving into the tunnel and running as fast as you can.

The sight you saw shocked you but it didn't give you fear. You're brother was still alive.

The titan was on the ground waiting a soldier, but it seems that it didn't go down without a fight. The soldier was able to cut it's legs and bring it down. After the titan finished it's meal his eyes were turned to your brother. 

.

.

.

"OH NO YOU FUCKING DON'T!" Screaming from the top of your lungs you rushed in not giving a damn about the screams from the soldiers you met. Once close to the titan he extended his arm to get your brother, but you used that to your advantage.

Swiftly climbing on top of its arm, you made your way up to its face and repeatedly stabbed it in the eyes. Quickly jumping off, you grabbed your brother and ran to the other soldiers.

"Hey since you seem to be good with that machine you own I'm leaving this titan to you. You grabbed your brothers arm and ran back into the tunnel in hopes of escaping the monster.

"W-WHAT?!" Connie yelled as he began panicking.

~~

(B/N) began hyperventilating as wet salty tears rolled his eyes. Clutching him close you began whispering words of encouragement and rubbing circles on his back.

"Don't worry big sister is here okay (b/n)".

His cries soon stopped as he began to sleep on your lap. You began to pet his hair and soon enough the soldiers came to see if you were still alive. Shushing them you carried your brother back to basement known as "Home" and stopped to see the body of the titan. 

Opening the latch you walked in and set your brother down on the bed and a voice soon cut you off.

"You were amazing back there." You turned around to see 'Eren' complimenting you more and more until he asked a question that began to scare you.

"Why don't you join the survey corps?"

"No. My brother needs me here with him and alive. A change of place would be nice too but if that comes with me joining the survey corps then no thank you."

" With your strengths we could save humanity!"

" All I need is my brother. Humanity can die for all I care." With those harsh words they stopped persuading you but only one boy didn't. As the others left only he stayed behind.

" Humanity can die? How selfish can you be?" Eren slightly rose his voice and with his angry expression met yours as well.

"Selfish? Wow...rich coming from you. You were from the Shiganshina District right? On the edge of Wall Maria? I didn't live that far from you. Your father constantly visited my house due to abuse from my father. Remember us? The (L/n) family? All the drama going on?" Continuing your story Eren's expression changed from anger to shock in less then a few passing moments.

" When the titans showed up some debris of the wall fell on my mother's leg. Me and (b/n) cried and screamed for help. Everyone ran past and some yelled "let her be food". Then I saw my mother being eaten in front of me. I shielded (b/n) but I saw it all. The blood, flesh, and I heard the pleas of my mother. When me and (b/n) ran we were met with a gate and people leaving in boats. We could have gotten safe passage if it weren't for my father. He was next and they asked him if he had family and... that selfish bastard said no so he wouldn't wait. Feel free to call me selfish but keep in mind. Everyone is selfish especially in the end." Grabbing (B/n) you left Eren and swiftly walked to another building.

Eren was shocked. It was true. Humans are selfish and even more when they know they're about to die. His mother was eaten in front of him and he couldn't do anything. (Y/N) however survived many things. The constant abuse from her father and for 5 years survived in a titan infested district. He admired her and felt an urge to protect her. He followed her and saw the rest of the soldiers surrounding her and (b/n).

(B/n) was crying while (Y/N) had a strong glare on all of them. Keeping her protective clutch on (B/N), she scanned her surrounding in hope's of finding some sort of weapon.

" Who are you?"

" She couldn't have survived that long outside. Could she be a titan shifter?"

" Should we kill her and the brat?"

Eren's stomach sank as he rushed over to where Mikasa was.

"What's going on?"

" They found (y/n) and think she is a titan shifter. They might plan on executing her."

Eren's eyes grew in shock and as he ran to her aid, a familiar blonde man grabbed his hand.

" Wait Eren. I want to see how she responds to this."

Eren turned to see Erwin calmly focusing on (Y/N).

"B-bu-"

" If it gets serious I'll jump in."

(Y/N) stood there silent until a soldier appeared before her. He took out a small pocket knife and circled her around.

" That brat yours?"

" He's not a brat, can't say the same about you in your younger days".

" What makes you say so huh bitch?"

" Just the way you act, obviously no one taught you how to act. Well then again not like your father cared. He was too busy getting over his hangover then giving a shit about you. Huh neighbor?"

" You bitch!"

The soldier ran to you with the knife as you slightly pushed (B/N) aside. You ducked down and using your weight threw him off his feet. The knife flew away from him as you picked it up and ran to (B/N).

" Think your hot stuff because you took down one of us?" A second man ran to you and you dodged his attempt and using the knife drove the blade into his eye.

A blood curling scream was present as you took back the knife and ran to (B/n).

"M-MY EYE!!"

Suddenly a man approached you. He had black hair and stone cold blue eyes.

" I don't think getting rid of our soldiers is a good idea...brat."

Glaring at the male you scoffed before someone ran to you. It was Eren.

~~

"Corporal! Please she proved her worth I'm sure we could use her in  the survey corps! Please don't hurt her."

Shocked by his sudden outburst you grabbed (B/N) and feeling a strange protected feeling got closer to Eren. That didn't go unnoticed by him.

" That's not my decision its Erwin's."

" She can."

Turning their attention to Erwin who began walking over to (Y/N) he stopped and smiled at (B/N) before turning to the rest of the Survey corps.  "She joining so please make her feel welcome."

" I never agreed." Stone cold voice accompanied by eyes, you glared at Erwin.

" Of course you did. You want to survive right?"

" I did for the past five years alone with my brother."

" You see now that we found you we have to take you with us. So it's only natural to join."

" Feel free to take me but I'm not joining the Survey Cor-"

" Miss (L/N) wasn't your father involved in human trafficking and the illegal use and smuggle of drugs? Didn't you also partake in that to avoid your family being beat. No matter the reason you still are considered a criminal."

" YOU'RE FUCKING BRIBING ME?"

" Not at all. Simply reminding you that you could come with us and join the Survey Corps or you could go to jail. Remember your brother plays a role in this too."

" DON'T YOU FUCKING TRY!"

" He can see his sister as a hero or be bullied and see his sister as a criminal."

Before continuing to fight back a hug from your brother changed everything.

" Please! Big sister I don't want you to die but I don't want you to be seen as a criminal!"

All eyes were on you as you struggled to speak. Your brother pleading you not to choose one and everyone else who couldn't care less.

" Don't worry (B/N)! I'll take care of your big sister!" Eren said in a cheerful voice as you turned to him.

"R-really?"

" Of course!"

" (Y/N) please! I don't want them to see you as a criminal!"

Looking down at your brother with tears staining his face you looked up and with a sigh....

.

.

.

" Fine I'll join."

~~ °•☆~~☆•°~~

It was the day of the expedition and you quickly changed in hopes in visiting your brother earlier. As you opened the door you were greeted by Eren.

" (Y/N) c'mon let's go see (B/N)!"

" Of course"

~~ mini flashback ~~

They lent you a horse and you quickly followed them. (B/N) was laughing and smiling at the green pasture and the beautiful flowers that were outside. A pain hit you in your head as you remembered that you guys have never been outside. It's always been in the basement and you smiled. Soon enough (b/n) will be able to play with other children. See the sun and live a normal life. You however may not be so lucky. You wanted to not be noticed and be that soldier that if you died they at least acknowledged your death and took care of (b/n). Eren however, wasn't going to allow that to happen. He quickly made an effort to befriend you and your brother.

"Wow big sister! Look what's that?" (B/n) pointed to a white flower with a red stain. Mentally cringing at the red,  you smiled and cheerful spoke up.

" Why (B/N) It's a white rose."

" Then why does it have red?"

No hesitation needed as you looked at it.

" It's blood."

A small gasp escaped your brother but it wasn't because of the flower. Noticing the field of flowers some where red and some white, some both but the both were increasing in amounts. More blood was on them, but from what.

"(Y/N)!!" A voice was all you heard before the sound of speeding horses broke you out of your trance.

Taking off a sweater you wore you tied it around yourself and (B/N). Kicking the horse and gaining speed you safely ran from the clutches of the titan. Problem was..the fact that it wasn't the only titan there. One quickly made its way to you and as fear began piling up you couldn't hear a thing except the cries of (B/N).

The sound of gas and wires broke you out from that prolonged trance and Eren made work of the titans. Killing them both he got back on his horse and rode to your side.

" (Y/N)! Are you okay?? (B/N) what about you??"

You could hear anything but that all changed when you felt the warmth of another person. Eren to specify.  Eren hugged you in attempts to calm the both of you. You directed your eyes  to Eren and hugged him back.

" Don't worry I'll protect you! For you I'll do anything!" Eren smiled but the thoughts behind the smile weren't anything to smile about.

~~

You were assigned living quarters and (b/n) would be living with with your grandmother who survived the attack. Your grandmother was in top shape heck she was 47 years old. She too cried for you and pleaded for you to not join the survey corps but in order to ensure their future you need to.

Being placed in the same squad as Eren wasn't bad but he kept trying to learn everything about you. You didn't mind as you already told him your backstory. Walking with Eren to your grandmother's house silence loomed the both of you for a second.

" Hey (Y/N)?"

"Hm"

" If I were a monster would you still treat me the same?"

" Of course. You saved me multiple times and I'll return the favor. Eren you are my best friend. Of course I'll treat you the same." Sending him a reassuring smile you saw the bright pink tint his cheeks and a slight pout on his face.

Upon arriving at your grandmother's house you smiled and knocked the door only for it to be opened immediately and a little boy screaming.

" BIG SIS!!" (B/N) cheered and smiled brightly. He hugged you and soon ran to Eren.

" BIG BROTHER! You'll protect big sis today right?" (B/N), with worry laced in his words he looked up at Eren and gave the most sad look...Eren ruffled his hair and smiled " Of course!"

Simply smiling you laughed a little before reassuring your family that you would be safe. Walking out of the house you sighed and inhaled.

The smell of dew drops lingered and it was refreshing. A little memory flew through your mind as you smiled.

~~

Loud, harsh thunder roared across the sky as you and (B/N) stayed hidden deep within the basement.

" Big sis I'm scared! That sound!" 

(B/N) was clutching you and his ears for protection.

Safety hugging him back you led him to the farthest area of the basement where less noise resided. Simply humming him a lullaby was enough to make him sleep the night away, but the fear of a monster attacking was present and increasing with every passing second.

~~

  Riding your horse at full speed as you began making your way back. You killed 7 titans in this expedition and were able to get a village under safety as well.

The gate opened and into safety you entered. Luckily no one died which was great but more people were here...unfortunately he was here. 

.

.

.

   You're father. 

~~

The cheers and the distasteful comments were swirling into an inaudible tune. All you could see was the smirking face of that man. As your horse began inching closer he was sweeping through the crowd.

The horses stopped in a halt as your father began approaching you.

"(Y/N), look at how big you've gotten! Where's (B/N)? I presume he's alive. I can't wait to see him."

Those lies that left his mouth were like gasoline with fire, it fueled you. Before you could even open your mouth to curse this man, Eren beat you to it.

" LOWLY BASTARD! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WHEN IT'S YOUR FAULT THEY ALMOST DIED! YOUR SELFISH DESIRES ARE THE CAUSE OF EVERYTHING. YOU LEFT YOUR CHILDREN WHEN THEY NEED YOU THE MOST YOU BASTARD!"

Eren argued as your father only looked at him in pure anger.

" I supported my children, saved them and this is what I get? Talk about selfish."

"Big sis...?"

That timid voice broke you out of your mute trance as you turned horrified, to see your brothers frightful face.

" Ah (B/N)! Lovely seeing you too! I've missed you! Have you missed me too?"

" GET AWAY FROM HIM!" You rushed in to wrap your brother in a loving warm hug. Clutching him close to your chest you nuzzled him deep within your chest.

Your grandmother ran to protect the both of you, hearing the constant abuse and the crimes you both were forced to commit the strong sense of judgement turned into pure hatred for this man.

" What you have done to my grandkids is despicable. Don't you even think about saying another word to them."

Before anything serious broke out the words of an old familiar corporal  broke out.

" Disturb a member of my squad and you will face the consequences, criminal."

Your father left and wasn't seen at all that day. It took a while to calm your brother but in the end he went out like a light and stayed cuddling to you like a teddy bear.

~~

" What do you mean "My squad"?"

" Erwin is transferring you into my squad. However we have something more to discuss." Levi said as he opened the door to Erwin's office.

" Cadet (Y/N), sorry for the scene earlier."

" It wasn't your fault, but thank you."

" Now I have transferred you to Levi's squad and you will be in the inner walls undercover. You are allowed to take your family with you."

"Sir bu-"

" Your safety matters more. You are a skilled warrior and I'm sure you'll be fine but considering that both you and your family have a higher risk of being hurt and being forced into a crime we will make sure to transfer you into the inner wall."

You agreed to the choice and prepared to tell your grandmother and (B/N), but your talk did not go unnoticed by a certain someone.

~~

The night was young as you walked to your grandmothers house. Upon arriving there you knocked and spoke up alerting them that it was you.

" (Y/N)? Why are you here so late?"

" Grandma I have something to say. They wish to transfer me to the inner walls and I need to take you with me."

" I have everything here (Y/N), besides (B/N) made some friends. To leave them behind is asking too much from him."

" I know grandma but...(B/N) and you have a higher risk of being attacked by him if you stay here any longer. Please consider it. If you do say yes, please be packed and ready to go early in the morning."

Hugging your grandma good bye and ruffling (b/n) messy hair gave a feeling of content and peace. Your plan was also heard by someone else, someone very close by.

~~

" That brat is going to the inner walls. If I can also gain passage I'll expand the business all right?" A deep voice spoke out to a group of several more individuals.

" Alright man, we'll portal here don't worry. How are you going to get her to cooperate?"

" Fear is something that is easily created don't forget that."

That was the only word he spoke before his bloody body was found in the morning.

~~

The news of your father hit you but didn't exactly affect you. You still were obliged to go and your family in the event that one of his "buddies" wanted pay back. Quickly packing, you made your way.

" (Y/N) are you leaving me?" A voice disrupted your thoughts as you looked behind you to see the lifeless eyes of Eren.

" Its orders Eren. I'm sorry, we can still communicate and you're one of my bes-"

" (Y/N). You can't. A guy does something special and nice only for it go unnoticed?"

The tone and the words all reminded you of him...

" Eren calm down. I don't need you telling me what to do. The safety of both me and my family are strong and I need to go."

" Remember what I said about doing anything for you?"

   ...

" Let's say a life paid the crime of attempted assault. I saved you."

Confusion shook your body as you failed to realize. A life? Who?

" W-Whose life did you take..?"

" Your father of course. His body covered in bruises and burn mark. After that I used a blade to slowly cut him. Every lie he told, every crime he committed, every tear that rolled on your cheek, he felt it with pain. You see (Y/N)..i love you. I desire you. Won't you be mine?"

" W-what...?" 

"You see...your father planned on attacking you. He overheard what you were planning on doing, he was going to attack your grandma and (b/n). I did this for you. You need me to help you, I'll protect you, and I'll love you for life."

Sprinting you ran into the town only to hear the screams of the townsfolk.

"I-i just saw blood leading out of the alley way and i-i-i looked and saw I-i just can't!"

You rushed inside the alley was only to see the mutilated body of your father. Only his head, and limbs were there. The torso was gone...

Running to the house of your grandmother you stopped when you saw Eren standing in front of them.

" ah (y/n)! We were just talking about you! Remember when you told me you liked me? Well seems (b/n) said that was cool and your grandma likes that."

" W-wai-"

" Say yes and they both live."

Those horrid words came like a dark whisper and you swallowed your fear and pride and nodded your head. Leaving surprised and happy gasps, a silent tear rolled off your face.

~~

A week since this toxic relationship and no one seeing the pleas you give. After your father was found dead it was then made clear that you weren't needed to be in the inner walls. Eren took that advantage and made sure he could be with you 24/7. One day with courage you asked a simple question.

" Why me?"

Eren smiled and looked out a window.

" (Y/N) I've always had a small crush on you. When you lived next to us I would see how strong you were and I always tried to impersonate you. Everytime Armin was being bullied I did what I could to help, but it wasn't enough. I could never be you. It wasn't until I found you living under a basement and it wasn't until you revealed to me what you've been going through. That's when I realized that deep down you wanted to cry and scream. You stayed strong for the sake of your family, but that was okay. That gave me confidence that I could protect you and maybe be loved by you. So here we are now. You don't have to fear anything and love me forev-"

" BUT I DON'T LOVE YOU EREN!"

The instant those words left your mouth you were pushed into the bed and your lips sealed by a passionate kiss. Leaving you no air you pounded upon his chest to allow you to breathe and moments later you got your request. Panting for air and saliva connecting your lips, Eren smiled at you and bent down to your ear. Lightly nibbling on it he trailed his bites onto your neck. Only pain was brought upon and your whimpers were hushed. Eren looked into your eyes and repeated.

" Remember I'll do anything for you...in return all I want is your love. After all....you'll soon come to love.

.

.

.

.ThE mOnStEr I'vE bEcOmE..

[heartbeatan]

Devil's Garden: Chapter 4

Return to Chapter 3.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Taehyung Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist

Chapter 4

You fucking idiot, Taehyung cursed himself when everything clicked. He knew that name. Stintsons. Fuck! He even wrote it down, double-underlined it so he could come back to it. He had the missing piece in his fucking hands for two days. He could have saved you from this. All he had to do was just been a detective for a fucking second, instead of fucking around with his thoughts of fucking his married client.

“He understands,” Mina’s gazed moved to Taehyung when your face showed no signs of overcoming confusion. He could see you turn to him in his periphery, but he didn’t look back. He had no time now to sympathize or explain, or to feel embarrassment or shame for not picking up on the connection sooner.

“We have no idea what he’s been up to, or what he does, and we don’t want to know,” Taehyung spoke, trying to keep his voice from vibrating in anger. “Let us go. We won’t talk to anyone; we’ll forget he exists. Erase him.”

“What?!” you breathed out at his proclamation. He winced wishing you had just kept still instead.

“I don’t think so,” said Mina. “Like I said, you showing up today is of great convenience to me, given the circumstance. I’m going to need you to do something for me first.”

Taehyung sighed and closed his eyes. When it comes to the mob, you never just “do something first.” That “doing something” leads to more doings, to incrimination, until you’re trapped, in jail or dead.

“I’ll do it. Whatever you want, just let her go. She doesn’t need to be apart of this,” he finally adjusted his tone towards Mina in his attempt at a plea. The corner of her mouth pulled up in a smug satisfaction to finally see him grovel.

“She’s already involved,” Mina said as she turned to walk out of the room. “It’s you I don’t need. So, you decide how long you’ll be sticking around. But…” she pointed her finger towards you, “…she’s not going anywhere.” The two burly men followed her, closing the door behind them, leaving you alone. But Taehyung knew they would be back soon.

“What does she want?” you turned to Taehyung the moment the door closed. “Is she going to kill us?”

“I know we just met,” Taehyung cut you off before you could spin out. “But I need you to trust me. I need you to listen to everything I say from here on.”

“I do trust you, Taehyung,” you responded without missing a beat. His gaze darted to your eyes immediately, shocked by how easily those words slipped from your tongue, knowing that trust was something he wasn’t worthy of. “But you heard her. She doesn’t need you. You should leave if she’ll let you.”

“No,” he said firmly, ensuring you received the message without question. “This is my fault. I’m gonna get you out of this.”

“It’s not your…” your retort was interrupted when the door swung open with an industrial squeal.

The two men had returned. The brute, the one who had clocked Taehyung not long ago with his fist, pulled a knife off his waist and headed towards you. Your body tensed, leaning back into the chair as if you would be able to escape him.

“No!” Taehyung called, his heart beginning to pound. “No!” he called again, this time pulling hard at the ties around his wrists, nearly breaking skin as he did.

The man reached you, and with a strong grip pinned your arm still against the chair. He then dug the blade between your wrist and the zip-tie, and with a smooth flick the band snapped in half and fell underwhelmingly to the floor.

Taehyung let out a heavy breath, and he was fairly sure you did to. They were just releasing you from your confines, but he wanted to kick the man’s ass for being so fucking dramatic about it.

Once your second wrist was free, he turned the blade around, pointing the handle in your direction to take it. Rubbing your wrists, you looked back up at him, unsure what he was asking. The man nodded in Taehyung’s direction, and taking the blade, you understood what he was asking.

“Don’t try anything funny,” he said as you knelt before Taehyung and worked away at relieving his wrists of the zip-ties.

As Taehyung watched your trembling hands do so, his mind began to wander and plot. What if he took the knife from you? Could he overpower these brutes? Sink the blade into their necks? Take you by the hand and make a break for the exit? Adrenaline began to course through his veins as he thought about it, his body on edge ready to act the moment the second tie was removed – but, as he looked down at you, the dried blood still staining your face and hair, he realized that if you were both going to make it out in one piece, he would need to take a softer, more rational approach.

Now both released, you handed the knife back to your captor who returned it to its sheath. He then roughly grabbed you behind the elbow and pushed you in the direction of the door before he turned to Taehyung to do the same.

You walked down a long corridor, the floor covered in an aged carpet tile and the walls a large, off-white brick. You were in an office.

Is this…? Taehyung thought to himself until a door opened and you were both pushed out into the sunlight. It was. You were at Stintsons… Ezra’s office to be exact.

“Take this,” someone shoved an old cellphone into your hands. So old it had one of those walkie-talkie features on it. He flicked the dial for channel 04 and you could hear a static beep. “Don’t turn it off. Follow everything we say.” He then ushered you towards a car.

“You’ll drive,” someone slapped a set of keys into Taehyung’s hand and pushed him as well in the direction of the car. “Watch for speed bumps.”

Fuck, Taehyung said under his breath.

He climbed into the driver’s side, with you sitting next to him in the passenger’s seat. His eyes scanned the car quickly for anything that could be of value before checking the mirrors. He could see people climb into an SUV behind you. He looked forward and saw another party doing the same in a truck ahead.

“You’re gonna take Industrial to the 17, then make a right at the second light,” a voice came through the soundwaves.

Taehyung took a long breath through his nose, then closed his eyes as he pressed the clutch and turned the ignition. The engine – to his relief – roared to life without incident. He sure as fuck hoped Mina’s people knew what they were doing.

Before he put the car in first, he looked over to you. He didn’t know yet if he should tell you, but you looked calm – given the circumstance – as you sat next to him in your hoodie, holding the phone in your palm.

“Tuck your hair into your sweater,” Taehyung said. “Then pull your hood all the way up.”

You looked back at him inquisitively, but you did as he asked – brushing the strands off your face and tucking it all into the hood as he pulled the car out into the street.

“Pull it down as much as you can,” he insisted. “And look down the whole time we’re driving. Don’t look up at the CCTVs.” You understood then, he wanted you to hide from the cameras. It seemed counterintuitive, given that you were the ones being held captive, but you said you’d listen.

“How about you?” you inquired, noting he had nothing to protect his identity.

“Check the glove box,” he said, and you did. Finding it empty, but you didn’t stop there. You check the centre console, then stretched into the back, dipping your hands into the seat pockets in search of anything you could use.

“Ah ha!” you exclaimed as you returned to the front with a ballcap brandishing the Stintsons company logo across the front.

He took the cap and popped it onto his head, pulling the beak down as much as he could to hopefully protect his face enough.

“Take the next left,” a voice came through the phone again. Taehyung did as he was asked but noticed the SUV behind him had continued on straight, leaving your tail. You notice the truck you had been following hadn’t taken the left either.

“Why are they just leaving us like this?” you asked.

“There’s a bomb in this car,” he replied.

“What?!” you exclaimed. “How do you know that?”

“Stintson’s is just a front for the Uzo-Tuk.”

“You mean the gang?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nodded. “They’re more than a gang. They’re a powerful crime ring. Drugs. Money. Weapons. People.”

“You better make that fucking light,” the voice came through the phone again. Taehyung peered up to see the yellow light too many meters ahead of him. But he did as he was asked, hitting the gas and speeding through the intersection. You grabbed the handle above the door, holding on for life and to your breath as the car rushed the intersection.

You made it through, though. An angry screech of a horn and a fuck you from a pedestrian you made it through the light as instructed.

“You think Ezra knew it was a front?” you asked when your stomach had settled from the rush.

“He was supposed to do a job for them, Y/N,” he didn’t mean for his tone to come off as patronizing, but it did. “I think he more than knew.”

“How do you know there’s a bomb?”

“It’s just their M.O. They park a car next to a target and then set it off remotely.”

“Was this what Ezra was supposed to do for them?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s on the next corner. Pull up to the curb as close as you can,” the final instruction came through the phone. “Then walk through the alley across the street and up the hill. Bring the phone.”

“Get out as soon as we park,” Taehyung said as he pulled the car towards the curb. “Keep your head down, take my hand. Don’t run.”

The car had barely reached a halt when you swung the door open. You made your way around the front as Taehyung close the driver’s door behind him. You took his hand as he had asked, kept your face low, and he guided you in a hurried stride across the street and towards the alley. The crumbled road ended in just a few metres, and led to a steep, dusty staircase that led from to a parking lot that elevated above the buildings. Henchmen greeted you when you reached the top, grabbing you roughly and dragging you towards the rest of the group.

Several of them held beers in their hands or a joint in their mouth while they laughed and joshed as if they were at a party. You had stayed glued to Taehyung’s side the best you could. He assumed you, smartly, were trying to stay out of the line of any of their sights. But it didn’t work. Taehyung watched as one of them, he appeared to be the leader, adorning a white tank exposing his sleeves of tattoos, looked over to you next to Taehyung and in an instant he knew he wasn’t going to leave you be.

“Hey, girly,” he called to you. “Come here for a second.”

“Leave her alone, man,” Taehyung groaned, trying to be as non-cholent as possible. But the man didn’t like that. So he walked up to the two of you, adjusting his presence to appear as menacing as he could, and pointing his finger in Taehyung’s face.

“I wasn’t fucking talking to you… MAN,” he said, and Taehyung almost laughed at his pathetic display of macho-ness. “Come here,” he said again to you, but this time grabbing a hold of your wrist and dragging you away. Strong hands grabbed Taehyung from behind, being sure he wouldn’t follow or try something. The tattoo’d man brought you to a spot on the ledge, so you could oversee the buildings below with perfect clarity. “You see that?” he pointed down to the street. “That’s the car you drove, right?” You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to answer. Instead, he pulled a phone from his pocket, tapped through the buttons until he handed it to you. “When I say, push the 'call' button.”

“Don’t fucking do it, man,” Taehyung called out. “Don’t make her do it!” How fucking cruel could these people be? Taehyung could see your expression change as you realized what was happening. You weren’t being asked to call someone – he wanted you to set off the bomb.”

“No. No, no, no,” you refuted as you pushed the phone away from you. “No, please. I can’t do that.”

“C’mon, baby. You can,” he patronized you with a disgustingly flirtatious tone. Taehyung jerked, trying to get a heavy hand off his shoulder.

“She’s not apart of this!” Taehyung called out again. “Just leave her out of it!” The hands holding him tightened their grip and he tried again to shake them off, but it only earned him a solid punch to the gut, leaving him breathless and kiltered over.

“Don’t!” you screamed when another one kicked Taehyung hard in the ribs, and you too tried to break away to come to his side, but the man had you held tightly. You turned and spat in his face. It was instinctive. You didn’t even realize you’d done it until it was too late. You didn’t have the time to consider how reckless it was, but before you could even think of what to do next a heavy hand clapped hard across your jaw, knocking you flat onto the earth.

“Fuck you!” Taehyung spat as he swung and arm trying to injure anyone near him.

Then… he heard a click, and his heart stopped.

He looked back. You were still on the ground. Mr. Tattoos standing above you, his arm stretched forward, in his hand a silver gun, arrogance lining his features, and rage making his veins visibly pop even under their array of ink. He wasn’t pointing the gun at you though. He was pointing it at Taehyung.

Everyone at the scene froze. It felt like someone had hit the pause button on a movie. It was possible at that moment that oxygen was no longer a human requirement, since no one on scene was taking any in.

“Stand up,” tattoos spoke, his command directed at you. Taehyung watched as your gaze followed from the gun to the place it was pointed, and when you saw it was pointed at Taehyung, when you realized that if you didn’t behave then something terrible was going to happen, you pulled yourself from the ground.

Taehyung wanted to call out again, but the stakes were too high now. But it hurt him to think about what this was going to do to you. Hurt him more knowing he could have been the one to keep you from this.

“Take this,” the man said as he handed you back the phone. “And when I say… you fucking push the button. Or else, your boyfriend here is dead.”

You looked back at Taehyung one last time. Your eyes filled with terror, and already filled with guilt and grief. Taehyung could tell you were asking him if it was alright. He nodded solemnly, although he didn’t know what your decision was going to be. Him? Or those innocent people, down there, on the street.

“Okay,” said tattoos. “Push it.”

[dapandapod]

Sing with me

This one is for @jaskierswolf, my last entry for mermay! 

Please enjoy some Jaskier x Mer!Valdo with some fairytale feels to it. Thank you a billion to @kuripon for being my beta! (go give her fics a read too, they are amazing)

Here on Ao3.  Please enjoy.

Lettenhove is beautiful in spring. Buds breaking into leaves, flowers forcing their way out of the frozen ground, the sky clear and blue. Jaskier loves it, and he wishes he could be out and enjoy it. But here he sits, listening to his tutor going on about the great wars of the continent. He used to be interested, but his new tutor is a right bore. He is never allowed to ask questions, or move about. And Jaskier is nine, he wants to move a lot.

What makes it better though, is the view. The room the tutor claimed for their studies has a view of the bay below. It lies undisturbed, the harbor being built in safer water with far less protruding rocks. If Jaskier focuses really hard, he can hear singing from down there.

 He shuts his eyes real hard, ignoring the howling wind, ignoring his whining tutor, and focuses on the splash of waves and rich voices harmonizing along the cliffs, bouncing off the stone. It earns him a slap on the wrists most times he is caught, but it is worth it. Sometimes he sneaks into the classroom after bedtime. He sits down in the alcove in front of the window and opens it. Propped up on his elbows, he looks down below, the height making the underside of his feet tickle, and the wind is blowing gently in his bangs. More than once he falls asleep there, lulled by the singing below and the splashing of waves.

 One day he will go down there and meet them. The sirens.

~

 Jaskier gets a new tutor. She is younger, brighter than the last one, and she smells like the sea. Her eyes are the deep grey of angry skies and her smile as soft as seaweed. He likes her a lot. She teaches him to sing, and the lilt of her voice reminds him of those below, those hiding in the crashing waves. She teaches him the ways with a lyre, and she lets him ask every question that pops into his mind.

 But something goes wrong. He isn’t sure what happens, but one day after their studies, she kisses his forehead and bids him goodbye. “It was nice knowing you, little Julian,” she whispers, like it is a secret. “Come visit us some time.”

 The day after, a stern, thick man takes her place. The man frowns when he sees the lyre, decorated with seashells, but lets him keep it and doesn’t tell his father.

 And when night falls, Jaskier creeps back into the classroom. Elbows propped against the window, he sings. He knows their songs now, their words, and he knows she is down there.

  ~

  Jaskier is thirteen when he braves it for the first time. The climb down there is steep, loose rocks and wet grass under his feet keeping his heart in his throat.

But he wants to meet them before he leaves. He has been accepted to Oxenfurt for his studies, and he is leaving before his fourteenth birthday. He stumbles and falls on his butt, sliding down a few paces before he finds his feet again, scraping his knee. It stings, and the leg of his trousers is ripped, but he keeps going.

 It's not until he stands, watching the water churn among the rocks, that Jaskier allows himself to breathe. Small droplets of salt water hit his cheek, his nose, and he blinks. They watch him, as he watches them. Jaskier can see them in the middle of the bay, settled on the rocks sticking out of the water. None look like the other. One's skin is rich gold, another a deep brown. Another is pale white, shimmering like a pearl. Their hair is sticking to their bodies, long and dark. Only two of them seem to favour a shorter hairstyle. Not all of them even have fish tails.

 Jaskier takes a tentative step closer to the water, knowing full well he will die if he falls in. Maybe he will die anyway. All of the stories he has been told about sirens end with humans dying.

But they came to him. She kissed his forehead and sang him good night.

He won’t believe it.

  One siren dives beneath the surface, her tail green and red. He waits for her to approach, and when she is close enough, he recognizes her. Her eyes are still the color of angry skies and her smile is still as soft as seaweed. She greets him with warmth, and bids him sit.

 They sing together, and it takes all of his concentration to remember the words. It’s been years, after all, but he falls back into it easily enough. The others join them after a while, their curiosity peaked by a boy by the sea, learning their language. Those with legs come sit with him, and he blushes at their nakedness when their bodies are revealed.

 That summer, for every night he is able, he sneaks down to the bay. He learns their names and their singsong way of talking. When he tells her about the lyre, how he has it hidden from his father, she is delighted. She teaches him more about music than any tutor he has ever had ever, and her way of telling stories is like poetry.

 When fall comes and Jaskier is put in a carriage to Oxenfurt, he doesn’t cry. He has needled from his mother and older sister that they have the song there too. It may be in a different form, but he has sworn to her to bring it home to them.

  ~

  Jaskier is seventeen when he meets Valdo Marx.

 That boy is like no other in Oxenfurt. He is wild, rude, funny and absolutely beautiful. He sprays himself with thick and expensive perfume, but Jaskier smells it on him anyway.

The sea.

Valdo's hair is thick and dark, just like theirs. Jaskier watches him in the lazy hours in the morning when they sit in the library. If a ray of sun hits him just right, there is a vague shimmer to his skin.

 Jaskier knows.

And he is besotted.

 But approaching Valdo Marx is harder than anything he has ever done. Their ways of singing are much alike, and Valdo takes great offence at that. Where Jaskier tries a tentative smile, Valdo sneers. Scoffs, mocks and pushes him away.

Jaskier doesn’t understand it, but he accepts it. If their rivalry is all he can get, he will take it. So it's song duels, poetry battles, drinking games, anything to get his attention. Valdo keeps the act up, but sometimes when they part, Jaskier thinks he can see the hint of a smile.

  The water near Oxenfurt is so very unlike the water at home. It is calmer, for one, and the water is so very clear.. Jaskier likes to go down there in the early mornings. He avoids the harbor as it is a busy and dangerous place at times, and these nights he wants peace.

 He longs for them. His friends. People call him songbird, but no, that’s not it. Jaskier follows the beach and when the weather allows he takes his shoes off. At home it was dangerous to step into the water, but here the waves lap at his feet, hiding them under a thin layer of sand. It is harder to find a good place to sit, so he is far from town when he reaches his chosen spot. He leans back against a tree, watching the sun slowly rise above the water. Gulls cry over him and dive into the water for breakfast.

 Jaskier likes to sing here.

Not as he does in school, nowhere near that. Here he sings in their language, far from prying ears. No one sings with him, but that is alright. It’s been years since he went back there. He probably won’t ever go back there again.

His father is not a kind man.

Jaskier sings his sorrows away. It feels like he is calling to them, a lonely cry over the waves, asking for someone, anyone to join him. It would be nice if Valdo sang with him. Maybe, if he is patient, he will win him over.

  Things change when Jaskier gets in a fight. He didn’t mean to, he is shit at fighting and the sight of blood makes his head spin, but here they are. And he is losing too.

 A fist slams into his ribs, making him bend awkwardly around the pain. Jaskier grunts, but straightens up, or at least he tries to. His feet are kicked from under him, and next thing he knows, feet are raining down on him.

 They kick his hip, his already aching ribs, his shoulder, his fingers.

 Jaskier doesn’t see Valdo in the tavern. Doesn’t notice those ocean eyes on him, his silence and his observance.

 Only when the blows stop, and Valdo is taking a swing at the offender does he notice. Turns out Valdo is bad at fighting too, and they run from the pub together, bruised and swearing. They stop in an alley, hidden far enough away from the street, catching their breath. Only when they are sure they are not being pursued does the laughing start. More like giggling, actually. Neither is completely sober, adrenaline rushing through their veins, and the sheer absurdity of it all has them hiccuping and wheezing, leaning against the wall for support.

 “Why the fuck would you pick a fight with that guy?!” Valdo wheezes, wiping tears from his cheeks. “He was huge!”

 "He was being an asshole!” Jaskier defends himself, but he agrees. Maybe not his brightest idea. They sink down against the wall, catching their breath. The ground is a little muddy, but his trousers are already dirty, so it doesn’t matter.

When they sit side by side, Jaskier watches Valdo’s profile in the semi-darkness. He doesn’t usually get to see him up close, and with the light spilling from a window somewhere above them. Valdo is beautiful. And in this low light, Jaskier can see the hint of scales again. He knows Valdo is probably wearing a glamour, so he isn’t supposed to be able to see it. Valdo looks back at him, eyes still glittering with humour.

“What?” He asks.

“Thank you. For helping me.”

Valdo looks at him searchingly for a long moment. Then he nods, as if he has made up his mind.

“You are welcome.”

  They sit in silence for another few moments, letting the buzz of Oxenfurt nightlife surround them. Jaskier is looking up over the rooftops, trying to see the stars, when Valdo speaks again.

“You know what I am, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You sing like we do.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

Now it is Jaskier who turns his head and finds Valdo watching him. He blinks fast a few times, trying to chase away the flutters that rise in him.

“One of my tutors came from the sea. My father didn’t like her, so she didn't stay, but we found each other again. She taught me songs and words and stories.”

 Jaskier can’t tear his eyes away, watching Valdo watching him.

It is a strange sensation, having Valdo’s attention like this.

 “Is this why you keep going to the water to sing?” Valdo asks, surprising him. It must show on his face, because he smiles gently at him, and Jaskier feels like he could melt.

“I hear you sometimes. When I’m out swimming.”

 Jaskier has to swallow hard before he can reply. He would love to see Valdo in the water. He remembers how graceful they are back home, how they moved in the water, strong muscles playing under the skin.

 “It is,” Jaskier confirms when he has himself under control. “I miss them.”

“I don’t know where my family is,” Valdo says after a while. “I left to come here. But I will find them again. Some day.”

 Jaskier stares at his boots for a moment. He wants to ask, he wants to ask so badly. He is a little afraid to do it, seeing that they just got on speaking terms.

 “Would you uh…”

Valdo is still watching him as if he is trying to figure him out.

“Would you sing with me some time?”

 There. He said it.

Valdo opens his mouth. Closes it. Tilts his head.

 “Do you know what it means to sing together?”

Jaskier shakes his head. He doesn’t. But it always meant a lot to him, and Valdo holds a special place in his heart. He wonders how their voices would sound together.

“It means belonging. Is this what you are asking of me? To belong?”

Oh.

Oh, that puts warmth in Jaskiers heart. To have found belonging with his people in the waves, to be accepted, chosen and loved.

And it flusters him greatly that he is now asking the same of Valdo.

Because he is, he realizes. He would like that very much.

 “If you’d like. Some day. I’m not asking for it now. I just… I would love to see you in the water sometime.”

Valdo doesn’t reply. He stands up, dusts off his trousers.

“We’ll see. Maybe.”

Then he stretches out a hand to help Jaskier up.

Valdo's hand in his is soft, warm, firm. When they are both on their feet, Valdo doesn’t let go of his hand immediately.

 “I think I can see what they saw in you,” Valdo says slowly. Jaskier doesn’t really understand what he means, but he loves it all the same. They make their way slowly across town, following the ebb and flow of its inhabitants. Valdo is still holding his hand.

    It takes months, years for Jaskier to see Valdo swim. His tail shares the color of seaweed, scales sparkling in the evening sun when he breaches the surface. Jaskier watches from the bay, far away from prying eyes. Valdo is every bit as magnificent as he thought he would be. Their journey here was long. A tentative friendship growing and growing. They still have their rivalry, are still at each other's throats most of the time.

But tonight, when Valdo offers to bring him to the sea, Jaskier know that too is about to change. Jaskier is wading out into the water, and Valdo swims to meet him. When the water comes to his chest, Valdo wraps his arms around him. It is cold, but Valdo pulls him in close and pushes their foreheads together.

“Will you sing with me?” Valdo asks, stealing Jaskier's breath away.

“Yes.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

88. I dropped my watch in an open grave, jumped in to get it, and while you were visiting your dead grandmother, you saw me climbing out of the grave (credit to @enchantedcass)

Indruck, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here it is! This is technically SFW, though there's some discussion of sex and a bit of steaminess at the end.

“Here, these are fresh.” Indrid sets the wildflowers on the small, stone marker, so covered with moss and worn with age that no one can read it. He only knows where to find her because he watched from the Barrens as she was put in the ground.

Temperance Leeds. His grandmother, the one who narrowly avoided accusations of witchcraft, the only human who ever set foot deep enough in the trees to bring him food, to drape blankets over his shaking shoulders. She never forgot him, and he shall return the favor as long as he lives.

There’s a thump of earth behind him and he whirls; it’s midnight in a graveyard, who could possibly be here? The ghosthunters usually wait for darker nights to come. In his periphery, a hand rises from an open grave.

Great, if the dead rise he’ll probably be blamed for that too.

“Fuck” A young man pulls himself from the grave, staring at his cell phone, “c’mon, please don’t be fuckin cracked.” Light illuminates his face and sighs, “thank fuckin christ.”

The light disappears and he blinks, eyes adjusting to the dark. Indrid, too caught up in working out why he’s in the ground, hasn’t bothered to hide as he should. The human notices.

“Uh. I. Uh. Dropped my phone checkin the time. I, uh, definitely wasn’t smokin in the off limits, uh, fuck, graveyard I, uh, I fuck, promise I’ll clean up my beer bottles I mean, uh, fuck.” He scratches the back of his neck, “please don’t call the cops?”

“Can you see me?” Indrid cocks his head.

“Yeah?”

“And you are worried about me alerting the police?”

“I mean, guess we’re both breakin the rules but I kinda figured you were staff here because of the clothes.” He gestures to the ensemble Indrid cobbled together from clothes lines.

Indrid stands, stretches his wings, flicks his tail and watches the human slowly notice the color of his eyes and the outline of his horns.

“Fuck. Look, man, whatever you are, I swear I won’t tell, I’m just tryin to keep busy, please, my folks are already worried about me-”

“I’m not going to harm you.” Lightning cracks through the sky, flashing his shadow across the frightened human, “I just wanted you to see me clearly.”

Rain patters on the leather of his wings. The man looks up at the sky, face seeming even younger as it fills with resignation. Indrid recognizes it’s source.

“You have nowhere to go, do you?”

“No. I, uh, decided I wanted to get outta town and never come back, made it as far as here before I ran outta money.”

Indrid offers his hand, watches the man’s face zero in on the claws, “You may spend the night with me, if you wish. My home is a ways into the woods, but it is dry and warm.”

“Okay.” The young man replies softly, letting Indrid help him up as the dirt turns to mud. Indrid shelters him as best he can with a wing until they reach the cottage. Indrid kneels by the fireplace, lumps kindling into a pile as the young man sets his backpack on a chair.

“Nice place. Gotta admit I was expectin somethin more dilapidated. On account of the whole, uh, y’know.” He gestures to Indrid’s horns and cloven feet.

“It was much like you expected, once upon a time. But a human named Arlo Thacker took pity on me and helped me build it with the aid of a few friends. There.” The fire flickers merrily, “that should keep us warm. You may--ah, what are you doing?”

The young man has removed his jacket and shirt, revealing what Indrid recognizes from human magazines as a sports bra. His hands are now on the fly of his jeans.

“You said I was supposed to, uh, spend the night with you?”

“Yes, in that you may sleep here to be safe from the weather and any who might wish you harm. Not so that you may keep me warm. So to speak.”

“You’re not gonna fuck me?”

Indrid flicks his tail, surprised, “You would offer yourself to me, looking like this?”

The man nods in a way that suggests he’s run a calculus in his head and decided Indrid’s desire was less abhorrent than some other option. Indrid crosses the small living room, bringing them face to face. He reaches out a hand, runs his claws through black hair until the human closes his eyes. Then his hand slides to cup his cheek, one nail tracing fond little shapes on the skin as the man sighs. Against his better judgement, he tilts his head down to nose the dark locks; smoke lingers there, just as alcohol hangs on his breath. He’s so warm, so willing and so very soft. Indrid wants nothing more than to undress him further, carry him to his cozy bedroom and discover what sounds come when he fits their bodies together.

“What’s your name?”

“Duck. It’s a nickname.”

“A charming one. But no, Duck, I will not take such advantage of you. I may be called a devil, but I do not believe in making one trade their body for basic kindness. Come along, the bedroom will allow you more privacy.”

“Thanks.” Duck sways, and Indrid senses a weariness he’s not certain a good nights rest will fix. Tomorrow he will be sure to be gone when Duck awakens, leaving his dry clothes and a map back to town outside his door so that he can do what Indrid can dare to; leave the Barrens and find a life waiting for him in the world beyond.

-----------------------------------------------------------

There are some days when Duck thinks his encounter in the woods was a dream. The hand-drawn map he keeps folded among his books tells him otherwise.

He’d come home after that night, made his peace with Kepler for a few years more, and often awoke from dreams where he was pushing through brush in pursuit of a strange shadow. He never cites these as a reason for his taking a job at a state forest in New Jersey that includes the Barrens.

Now, he’s decided to upgrade from his apartment to a house in the woods that’s been listed for over two years and is a goddamn steal because of that.

“As you can see, there’s another residence across the clearing; that’s why the company that built this lovely dwelling was able to do so. They intended to build a nice little community here.”

“The fact that ain’t happened got anythin to do with the reason I gotta stay the night before I make an offer?”

Ned’s smile falters, “Indeed, dear boy. I like you, so I’ll be forthcoming; we’ve never seen anyone in the other house. But they have most certainly seen us.”

Duck settles in for an uneventful afternoon and evening, reads his book and considers whether he could fit some windowboxes on the house for garden space. It’s not until it’s pitch black outside that it starts; footsteps on the roof, followed shortly by red eyes peering in through the living room window.

He opens the front door, the undergrowth rustling hurriedly to his left.

“Uh, hey there. You may not remember me but, uh, we’ve actually met before. About ten years ago. You uh, you let me stay the night?”

Only some crickets, unaware of the tension in the air, reply to him. Then the bushes grow two, ruby red flowers.

“Duck?”

“Yep. Y’know, you never told me your name. If we’re gonna be neighbors, feels like I oughta know what to call you.”

A shadow moves from the trees, stopping when it reaches the light spilling from the windows. He’s as Duck remembers him; short horns sprouting from a mop of silver hair, claws on his fingers and black wings folded on his back. His skin is a swirl of ashy grey and ember red. And his face, while striking, is human. That was the part that always tripped Duck up; the Jersey Devil was always drawn with a goat or horse face, making him question whether that’s who he met all those years ago.

“Indrid. My name is Indrid.”

“Nice to see you again, Indrid.”

The other man smiles, and Duck knows what will replace the mad hunt through the brush in his dreams, “Likewise.”

-------------------------------------------------

“You know, she had three more children after me. None of them suffered the same curse.” Indrid kicks idly at the long decayed remains of his family home. Their nightly walk brough them close to it this time around, and Duck had been curious. His interest is never prurient or morbid; Duck wants to get to know Indrid, not his legend.

“That fuckin sucks.”

Indrid chuckles, “I do enjoy how you put things so plainly.”

“I’m serious, what kind of folks put their kid out when it’s a baby? I mean, mine weren't always the fuckin parents of the year but at least they understood lookin after me was part of the deal.”

“It was a different time.”

“Fine, but I’m still judgin the hell outta them.”

Indrid looks fondly down at the human, “That’s as fair a fate for them as any.”

---------------------------------------

“It don’t weird you out?” Juno indicates Indrid’s house from where she and Duck are sitting on his front porch. The twin Adirondack chairs are a new addition, as the warmer months mean he and Indrid spend ample time trying to see the stars through the treetops.

“Nah. Indrid’s a real good neighbor when he’s around. He’s uh, from an old family so he don’t gotta work. Part of why he keeps such weird hours.” Duck wishes he could introduce them; it’d be nice for the three of them to have dinner before Juno heads south again. But Indrid has several centuries of shitty human encounters that dig under his skin like splinters, and Duck will never push him to ignore that pain. Besides, there will be other visits.

The summer and fall pass in much the same ways last winter and spring did. Duck works in the park, visits friends in town, runs errands, and generally goes about all the mundane moments that make up a life. Then he spends his evenings in one of the two cottages, or walking alongside Indrid on long-overgrown pathways.

The hardest part of it all is not mentioning Indrid in every single conversation; Duck is already tempting disaster being unable to lie and the neighbor of a cryptid. He doesn’t want to also drive his friends up the wall talking about said cryptids art, or his laugh, or the little herb garden Duck is helping him grow.

They’re in the stretch of days between Christmas and New Year, and Indrid has just finished opening the gift Duck brought him; a thick, soft sweater that Duck stitched a “I” into the front of along with a few little pine tree patches. Indrid smiles at him and notices that Duck’s sweater is done in a similar fashion (in fact, everyone in the Newton family wears one like this). The grin turns bashful and Indrid rubs his cheek against the fabric.

“Thank you, Duck. I, ah, I’m sorry I do not have anything to give you. Holidays are not my strong suit.”

“Just gettin to see you is enough.” Duck stands to refill his tea, Indrid’s gaze caressing his back as he moves through the room. He almost hadn’t gone home, had offered to stay and keep Indrid company. But his friend insisted, reminding him that while it felt odd to be without each other, they both had spent plenty of time apart and been fine. All the same, when he got home yesterday Indrid was knocking on his door before he even put his bag down.

Duck didn’t mind at all. No more than he minds when Indrid sleeps with his head in his lap or strokes his hair while they read on the couch.

The cryptid stokes the fire as the snow gives way to sleet, streaking the windows with icy drops.

“Goodness, what a frigid night.”

“No kiddin.” Duck sets his mug down, turns just as Indrid gets to his feet, “can’t say I mind, kinda reminds me of the night we met.”

The colors of Indrid’s skin make a blush difficult to spot, but Duck’s learned which dip of his head and quirk of his lip means it’s there.

“‘Drid? Did you ever think about that night? Because I did. I, uh, I do.”

“Yes.” Indrid’s tail twitches.

“What do you think about?”

“I, ah, I...you first.”

Duck crosses the creaking floorboards, looking up into red eyes, “I think about how safe it felt when you brought me here. How when I woke up, I felt like this was some kinda weird sign, that I needed to rethink some things and that’s how come I went home, which turned out to be a good call. And” he smirks, “I think about how I was drunk and desperate enough to ask the fuckin Jersey Devil if he was gonna fuck me.”

Indrid blushes once more, studies the ground as Duck touches his shoulder, “I must say that is the part that dominated most of my thoughts. Not right away; for the first few weeks when I thought of you I only hoped you were alright. Then I would let myself imagine that I had been devilish indeed.”

Gently, Duck raises Indrid’s hand and cradles his cheek with it as they did that night, “What would you have done, devil of mine?”

A snicker, “I will answer that only if you tell me whether you are angling for the demonstration that I think you are.”

“Damn right.” He closes his eyes, heart swelling and skin prickling as Indrid steps closer and nuzzles the top of his head.

“I would have asked if you were tired of running. If you wanted a home. And would you like to make it here, so that we could keep each other company. I know in my heart this would have been a selfish offer. I am glad I did not make it, did not trap you here, resign you to a fate that was not what you would have chosen freely.”

“I’m pretty fuckin free these days.”

“And that all on it’s own fills me with joy. But yes, there were nights where I wished I’d been selfish.”

Duck tips his head up, brushing their noses together, “Say you made that offer and I accepted. What then?”

Indrid cups his face with both hands. The kiss is chaste, Indrid sighing against his lips as he twines his claws in his hair. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, lightly teasing the edge of one wing.

“Then” Indrid murmurs, “I’d carry you to bed.”

“Yeah, that part woulda been easier when I was seventeEEN” he laughs as Indrid scoops him into a bridal carry with ease. He’s never been in Indrid’s bed, so he giggles again when he discovers it’s ten times squishier than his own. The cryptid sinks onto it with him, guiding him so they’re face to face on their sides.

“May I undress you?”

“Knock yourself out, darlin.” Affection deep and warm as a thermal spring wells up in him as Indrid carefully removes his sweater and shirt before dainty setting his claws to work on his fly. When Duck is down to his boxers, hunger enters Indrid’s eyes for the first time.

“Oh you are divine.” One hand strokes his leg, pausing at the crease of his thigh each time it reaches there. The other curves along his belly up to his chest before caressing his face, the black claws making his skin seem oddly pale and very fragile in comparison.

Duck touches the hem of Indrid’s shirt and the cryptid freezes.

“‘Drid? Is this okay?”

“Do you...truly wish to see me unclothed?”

Duck surges forward to kiss him as he rucks up his shirt, the movement a sufficient answer for Indrid to raise his arms and let him pull the sweater and battered shirt beneath it away. His skin here is the same swirl of colors as the rest of him, but there’s a dusting of peach fuzz fur across it. It’s delightful under Duck’s tongue, though the little keen of pleasure from Indrid is even better.

“It’s strange” Indrid traces hearts and zig-zags with his claws along Duck’s sides as the human continues kissing his chest and neck, “I thought that seeing you like this would so overwhelm me with need that I’d beg to have you this instant. But it seems I feel much the same way I did in my fantasies of that night.”

“Oh” Duck reaches up to toy with the base of a horn and Indrid groans happily before continuing.

“Had you stayed, knowing you were now mine, I’d have taken my time. Nestled you under the blankets, opened you up on my tongue until you were weak from pleasure. That way it would be easy to take you when I was ready. Perhaps on your back, so you had me to hold onto if you needed. Or on your belly, so you would be even more sheltered from the cold, cruel world by my body and wings. And I’d stay there for hours, make up for decade after decade of touch starvation by glutting myself on your young, willing body.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid.” Duck pulls him down into a kiss, “christ that’s a fuckin good image.”

“Mmmm” the cryptid licks his cheek, “it is, isn’t it. But since you are not going anywhere, and we are not limited by the confines of my imagination, I am even less inclined to rush. Will you indulge me with just kisse tonight?”

Duck brushes silver hair from his forehead, planting a kiss there when he’s done, “Of course.”

----------------------

The morning brings several feet of snow and announcement that those who can stay in their homes and shelter from the ongoing storm should. The pines drop heaps of white across the ground, and frost makes the windows so icy it’s better to draw the curtains and stay curled up in the dark.

Duck doesn’t mind at all.

[mylifeisadeceit]

Greed is stupid.

But not stupid in everything, and I mean no one is, but the astonishing thing is the different ratio.

Usually people tend to be balanced, maybe a little bit lacking in the logical side but with a propensity for the linguistic part.

But this man is straight up a intrapersonal idiot and a interpersonal smartass.

He has no questions about himself or about his nature. "It is what it is" could be his motto if he didn't already have the equally stupid "There is no such thing as no such thing".

Literally his whole thing is to want and he doesn't take even a little fraction of his time to think about what actually, in his life, has made him happy.

It's not even that complicated, ling knew him for a couple of months and had figured out more things than Greed himself.

But on the other hand he took with him a whole lot of half failed human experiments and made them feel good with themselves?????

I mean, most of the them are fine about how they are but a whole lot are actually happy.

And this is astonishing since this is the same guy that doesn't like his normal form, he tries to avoid using it even in life threatening situations.

He knows how it feels and he sure helps others, somehow it seems that he made them feel... Safe and comfortable and they love him so much because he helped them loving themselves.

Ya know that's pretty good for the literal embodiment of selfishness, to be so empathic and at the same time so uncaring of himself.

(I added some images and made some examples and this is already long so I thought that it's better this way)

(the images have descriptions and there is a brief summary at the end. Sorry if they are not well made, I tried my best)

I still can't believe this is basically all in one single arc, and not even a long one!

The chimeras are here for so little but you can see so much

[Image ID: three panels from the fullmetal's alchemist manga.

Dorchette (aka Dolcetto) is talking with Alphonse, who is present in just one panel, and also smoking a pipe with a big grin on his face.

Alphonse: With... A dog?

Dorchette: Yeah, It's a pretty convenient body

Alphonse: You're pretty positive about this

Dorchette: Maybe too positive. But it's way better than being in that shitty boring lab

End ID]

When I saw this I thought "OK OK but how much uplifting did Greed had to do?" because Dorchette clearly doesn't like being a chimera, non of them do, but it feels like someone just went and said to him an exasperating number of times that's he's cool and strong, and amazing and and ecc...

Like that one particular friend that always cherish you and your art and literally whatever you do like you are the perfect human being, despite them being artificially created (and therefore technically flawless)

You know, everyone has that friend

And this is back up once again from one of those panels that always warms my heart

This singular panel always makes my heart melt:

[Image ID: a manga panel from the fullmetal's alchemist manga.

Bido is climbing a wall that Edward just formed with the usage of alchemy.

He's looking down to his interlocutors and while smiling he says

Bido: I'm amazing too!

End ID]

Like he's literally the most fucked up chimera???? With a big tail, a strange body structure (those feets...) and flakes all over his body

but he's just

"Yeah FUCK YOU, I'm cool as heck"

AND HE'S SO DAMN RIGHT

The supposedly most selfish being on the planet helped so many individuals recover from something that you cannot even classified and he still can't figure out that those same people are what he was searching for this whole time.

Sometimes it seems that the embodiment of avarice doesn't really care about himself huh

In conclusion, Greed is your mutual that is very cool, will support you and cherish your accomplished and just really support you and also acting like they are God and when you ask "how are you?" they respond with "I'm alive I guess"

Summary: Greed is very intrapersonal stupid but nonetheless he helped the people around him (the chimeras) and this is beautiful.

[themysteriousauthor18]

Drinks and a lame party. [HuskerDust oneshot]

Artist of picture above: 

Alright, @randompersonnumber3​ and @spiderwithatommygun​ This ones for you two.

Fair warning. This is my first time writing HuskerDust. Still hope you enjoy it

.

             To say Angel was having fun would be a load of bullshit. He groaned from his spot against the wall of the large ballroom. Tonight Charlie, Vaggie, and that strawberry pimp had organized a party for to people of hell. Or simply put, to get some demons in this place. 

When the spider heard ‘party’ you could imagine his excitement looking forward tonight. He hadn’t the chance to have been at an actual party in a month thanks to Charlie and that shit. But as he looked across the ballroom this was not his idea of a party.

He grimaced as he looked again. 

Classical music filled the room, like something rich people would play at one of them fancy parties. What was worse, every demon in here was dressed all nice, men in suits women in fancy dresses. Hell, even the food was fucking refined. 

 Even he himself was forced to wear this classy clothing. Pink blazer white pants, something similar to what Alastor had thrown him into on the day he showed up.

At least he got to wear his boots.

Where was the loud club music! And the flashing lights, the smell of sex and drugs, the alcohol shitty food, and people in shitty clothes! 

Angel huffed, his mind backtracking a few steps. 

Wait.

Alcohol.

As if his mind followed his new train of thought they traveled across the room. Tucked against one of the far walls, sporing his white button-up and tie was the bar cat he always messed with. Angel grinned, a new idea coming to his mind. 

Putting his plan into action Angel strutted over to the bar cat.

Husk was in the middle of pouring some high-class demon a drink in one of those wine glasses. She was a cat-like demon, her fur a dark brown. And that red curly hair matched the classy dress she wore. 

As he got closer, Husk not even noticing him yet, he realized that the same demon was taking her own jabs at him. “Oh come on...I’ll make your night more interesting than this.” She purred, her tail wagging a little. Husk was obviously uncomfortable and giving about the same reaction he did with Angel’s flirting.

“Fuck off.” Angel snickered when the cat girl cocked her head back. All in the same minute she got up from the bar and walked away with her nose up in the air. His brows only knitted together when he caught sight of the spider taking her place on the stool.

There wasn’t anyone at the bar beside the two of them. Everyone was busy trying to harass Charlie for this only to be backed up by Vaggie and Alastor. And Nifty was busy picking up any little speck of dirt left by these fools.

So that just left them.

“What do you want.” Husk growled, he didn’t sound angry his voice was just naturally deep like that. Not that it bothered Angel. His cheeks were also a light tint of pink, so he assumed Husk had already been drinking, that wasn’t surprising. 

Angel smiled, leaning the lower sets of his arms on the bar while the first pair supported his face. “Oh come on Husky, you know by now.” While the tone of Angel’s voice suggested something else, he was in fact talking about alcohol. Husk groaned again but was already getting a bottle. And like Angel had found the winged cat doing lately, he grabbed two shot glasses and set them on the bar before pouring.

“Surprised your not dead with that kid throwing you around all night.” He was referring to Charlie showing Angel off as her newest ‘project’. He didn’t really like that word but didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“I could say the same to you.” Angel laughed, picking up one of the shot glasses and effortlessly throwing it to the back of his throat. Husk seemed to do it at the same time before both their classes hit the counter again. “With girls like that? Thought ya woulda killed someone by now.” 

Husk used his tail to hold the bottle and fill the glasses again. He laid an arm on the counter while the other picked up the glass. “Compared to bein around you for a few months, they ain’t shit.” Angel snickered, shooting his shot back again.

“Awww, that’s so sweet.” Husk rolled his eyes, his ears folding back as he looked away for a moment. 

“Your more annoyin’ then them. Ain’t hard.” Angel’s smile didn’t falter despite the counter. Husk had a hard exterior but in these few months, Angel had come to know that he had a soft side too. And he had been lucky enough to see it for himself. 

“Oh stop, your makin’ me blush.” Angel joked, despite his cheeks actually tinting a light pink from the alcohol. Husk rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

For a short time, the pair fell silent just exchanging drinks and trying to ignore the classical music that penetrated both their ears. (Yes Angel has ears.) After about four shots neither were perse drunk but both had a healthy amount of red to their cheeks. It was then Husk spoke up, “do you wanna go sit in the lobby and continue this? This shits hurting my ears.” Husk complained his ears pressing down to his head as a response. 

The music had gotten a little louder, that or the alcohol made both of their senses hyper-aware. “If ya wanted to be alone with me ya coulda just asked.” The spider purred with a smirk.

Husk was already moving away from the bar in the ballroom, one Alastor had just conjured here. His tail had hooked itself around a stray bottle as he walked away from the bar. “If your gonna be like that then your ass can stay here.” He grumbled. 

“No no--” Angel grabbed the cat’s arm as he was about to pass him. Husk didn’t exactly jerk away from him but he did flinch. “I’ll behave.” A lie.

Husk knew it was. But whether it was the whiskey in his system or just some stray moment of kindness that didn’t belong there, he found himself saying “then come on. My fucking ears hurt.” 

Angel grinned happily at the invitation and followed Husk out of the room. The opening and closing of the door were barely noticed by anyone in the room.

The lobby was quiet and empty. 

The pair took refuge on one of the couches far too large to be normal. They promptly continued their drinking once Husk grabbed a few extra bottles from the bar in the lobby. As they continued their shots somewhere at some point they began to exchange stories with each other. 

“So then I blew his head off and took the cash.” Angel laughed, and Husk found himself laughing too. 

“You just shot him and left.” Angel, still laughing nodded. 

“I mean, the sex wasn’t bad but like, he wasn’t gonna pay so.” Angel made a gun with his fingers aiming it at Husk. “Bang.” He said playfully and resumed his laughing. Something rare happened then. And Angel witnessed it first hand. 

The bar cat was smiling. 

Angel stopped laughing for a second and set his shot down. “Is that a smile I see?” He grinned, Husk rolled his eyes. His smile promptly fading. He shook his head. Angel found himself frowning as well.

He sighed leaning forward and covered his arms face. “Sorry sorry. Fuck I ruined it.” He muttered. Husk looked at him confused. Before he could ask why, or question why he cared, Angel looked at him with guilt lacing his face. “It’s just...nice to see ya smile. Y’know? It’s, nice to see you happy for once.” 

Husk stared at Angel for a time, his ears perking up and tail swaying. Angel stared back, worried he’d only made it worse. But the pair of lips that suddenly pressed to his said otherwise. 

The spider didn’t hesitate and easily melted into the kiss that tasted strongly of whiskey. He grabbed the fronts of Husk shirt tilting his head and the bar cat didn’t seem to mind. Angel had through it would go were these things normally did. But the denied acess past his lips and to his mouth seemed to say otherwise. 

Still, he didn’t push Angel away. In fact he pulled the spider onto his lap to which the other greatly complied. He kissed the spiders lips not with hunger but something similar to desire. His claws rested on the tallers hips and Angels sets of hands rested somewhere on Husks shoulders or chest. 

After a minute the kiss finally broke, both panting heavily. The smell of alchoahul and whisky in both of their breaths. But as Angel leaned back in he was promtply stopped by the claw on his chest. He looked at the bar cat confused and baffled. Husk only met the spiders eyes, not with anger like he expected he had looked strangly calm.

“That’s enough.” He said softly. Angel frowned, pouting slightly. “Oh don’t give me that look. Your drunk an’ I know what happens with this shit when your drunk.” Angel sighed, leaning down and resting his head on Husks shoulder. He expected the cat to push him off, but he only felt the claws come to hold him a little tighter. 

Angel let out a weak laugh into the silent hall. “So ya’ just kissed me ‘cause your drunk?” There was a long pause and an aduible gulp on Husks part. A shaky breath escaped his lips. 

“No.” Was all he said. But that was enough for Angel. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes...before Husk gently pushed Angel back. Once again he met the spiders eyes, but this time his expression came with a smile. “Now drag your ass to your room before you fuckin’ pass out here.” Angel blushed, smiling himself. Husk ears folded back in relization of what he was saying. His own cheeks became a shade redder as he looked away. 

“I mean..you know how fuckin’ hard it is to drag your ass up those stairs.” Angel huffed out a laugh as he climbed off the cats lap. 

“Alrigh’ I’m goin’. Wouldn’t wanna worry ya.” A more sincere tone carried his words compared to the usual teasing. Husk watched the spider pause at the bottom of the stairs, about to go up them. But he looked at the bar cat and gave a genuine smile. 

“Goodnight...Husk.” That unfamilar feeling he hadn’t felt in years...that feeling he’d been afraid to feel again swarmed his chest. And without realizing it the corners of his lips pointed up. 

“Goodnight, Angel.” The spider stared surprised for a momment. He waved, finally heading up the stairs. 

Once Angel was out of sight the cat-demon groaned holding his face. 

The racing of his heart.

That strange tingling feeling on his lips. 

The warm feeling.

The cold feeling of him being gone.

“Fuck..not again.”

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: Difficult

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: He considers for a moment and then pulls it over the back of Caleb’s head, leaving his arms dangling loosely in the taut pull of the fabric. “Be good or I’ll tickle you again.”

It’s something he’d say to one of his siblings, and it gets an equally petulant response - Caleb growls, elbows flailing as he tries to break free of his shirt prison. “Caduceus.”

Difficult. Caduceus eyes the bare and probably-ticklish - and currently burnt up - expanse of Caleb’s exposed torso and makes a decision.

Wordcount: 2.4k

A/N: Fill for this anon prompt!

---

Caduceus likes to think he’s pretty immune to nonsense, as things go - growing up with three siblings will have that effect - but that doesn’t mean he’s not frustrated when certain people decide that they’re going to walk away from a we-barely-survived-a-dimension-with-a-dragon-in-it healing circle.

Still, he knows how these things go. He sees everyone off to bed and reminds himself to come up with some tea for Beau later. He pulls thick green stalks of succulents from his pack, grateful that he’d thought to wrap most of his herbs up in oilcloth before his time with the group took a decidedly nautical turn, and crushes them methodically into paste before stirring in some warm oil and beeswax. He hums a quick prayer to the Wildmother, asking for the same patience it took not to sneak something annoying into Clarabelle’s food when she started putting worms in his bed at night.

Then, he goes to find Caleb.

Their guilt-ridden wizard looks even worse than he did before, if that’s even possible. He smells of soot, shirt scorched and blackened around the collar, and his cheeks are red and peeling with what might be mistaken for a particularly terrible sunburn if Caduceus hadn’t been in the room with him and a fire elemental and a whole entire dragon. But that’s not the worst of it - he’s hunched up at the head of his bed in the already confined space of the room he and Nott have taken over, knees pulled to his chest and a faraway look in his eyes that says he’s probably sat himself down and not moved since.

Caduceus tries not to sigh. “Hey, I brought you some stuff.”

Caleb’s head barely twitches in his direction. “I am not in the mood for tea just now, Herr Clay.”

“Well, good, cause it’s not tea.” He ducks through the doorway properly and brandishes the bowl of salve for inspection, cradling it gently in his hands. “For the burns - you’re going to have to take care of those sooner or later, or they’ll get pretty gross.”

“I will sleep it off, then.”

Caduceus very tactfully refrains from mentioning that Caleb has obviously not been sleeping. “Where’s Nott gotten off to?”

Caleb tends to be a little less guarded when Nott is around, he’s noticed, and the question gets him to shift just enough to reveal Nott hidden between him and the wall, high-pitched goblin snores muffled in the sleeve of Caleb’s coat that she’s wrapped herself up in. “We will let her sleep, ja?”

He turns away, clearly considering the conversation over. Caduceus takes just a little bit of smug pride in the way his head snaps back around when he climbs onto the bed to join them.

“She can sleep. You, though-” He settles cross legged at the foot of the bed, catches Caleb’s eye and pats the mattress in front of him. “C’mere.”

Caleb stares. Caduceus thinks he might be trying to intimidate him. “Herr Clay, we do not know each other so well, but I think I have been quite clear-”

Caduceus snags one of his ankles and starts towing him in, patiently watching him wince and sputter as he scrambles to keep himself upright without the support of the wall. “You - well, the group, but also you - asked me to come with you to heal you all.”

Caleb, just shy of his lap, makes an immensely frustrated noise - he looks like he wants to gesture angrily, but both of his arms are occupied keeping him from falling over. “Yes, but you cannot just-”

“You need healing,” Caduceus says firmly. He takes Caleb’s shoulders and nudges them around, leaving him to straighten the rest of himself out. “Hold still now, I’m doing the back of your neck first.”

All at once, Caleb seems to decide that it’s not worth the effort to crawl back to the other side of the bed - his shoulders bend under the gentle pressure Caduceus puts on them, and he looks away. “Jester has never been this dedicated to healing,” he complains, but he turns himself to sit on the edge of the bed and pulls his feet to the floor.

Caduceus hums approvingly and lets go of him- it’s important to reward good behavior. “Isn’t it nice that the Wildmother decided to bring you to my door, then?”

Caleb snorts.

It’s slow going. First Caleb won’t let him braid his hair up out of the way - he jerks his head away, and Caduceus can see the way his back stiffens with pain as he produces a twist of silver thread and yanks the reddish locks into a painful looking tail at the back of his skull. Then he bows his head and refuses to say a single word when Caduceus asks him if he’s pressing too hard. Honestly, he’s met more cooperative corpses.

“Does it help?” he asks, smoothing more of the salve over the taut muscles on either side of Caleb’s neck. Goosebumps spring up under his fingers, and he rubs a little more firmly to smooth them back down. “The sulking, I mean. Doesn’t do much, in my experience, but you seem pretty attached.”

Caleb, unsurprisingly, stays quiet. Caduceus has to laugh at that, doesn’t particularly bother keeping it quiet. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

It’s not a big area to cover, and he’s finished within a minute, but as he keeps rubbing his thumb over the bony jut of spine just under the fragile curve of skull Caleb relaxes ever so slightly into his touch - very much despite his own intentions, he’s sure - and he’s interested in chasing that rather promising hint of compliance. Another minute, and Caleb’s elbows unlock from their pillar-straight position by his sides. He’s curious what might come next, but the exhaustion of the day is starting to pull at him and he knows he needs to check on Beau too before he goes to sleep. Caleb’s a multi-step project, if anything.

He does take the opportunity to tease Caleb’s ponytail just a little looser, though. He doesn’t like seeing people mistreat their hair.

He pulls his hands away - Caleb sways in his direction, a quiet protest escaping, and he does make sure to hide his amusement at that - and reaches for the collar of his shirt. Tugging it away from the skin, he peeks down Caleb’s back and instantly hisses in sympathy. It’s not burnt, protected by two layers of cloth, but the skin still looks red and irritated from the heat. No wonder Caleb isn’t keen on going to sleep. “Okay, shirt off, let’s do your back too.”

And, just like that, Caleb locks right back up. “What? I thought we were done.”

He does permit himself an aggrieved sigh, at that - he’s sure the Wildmother will understand. “Yeah, no - I can see the burns on your back, you know.”

Caleb’s shoulders take on an especially mutinous hunch, fingers tightening on the hem of his shirt. “I will be fine.” He huffs in a dark, angry way that makes Caduceus’ ears want to flatten against the side of his head. “I’ve seen worse.”

Somehow, he doesn’t think his look-over-here trick with the mushroom will work as well here as it did on Beau. Instead, he flutters his fingers along the side of Caleb’s neck, on an unburnt patch of skin just below his ear. Tends to be distracting, even on people who aren’t ticklish there - and he’s fairly sure Caleb isn’t, after watching Jester try to blow a raspberry on the back of his neck and immediately gag on the taste of days-old sweat and earn barely a startle for her troubles.

Which makes it all the more delightful when the sensation takes right away - “Oh”, Caleb gasps, and instantly crushes his shoulders up against his ears as goosebumps bloom over the sensitive skin. “Ah- hffff-”

Caduceus keeps a watchful eye on his hands, yanking his shirt up as soon as his death grip on it loosens and - oh, right the holsters. He’d forgotten about those.

Caleb recovers quickly, pulling away from the tickling and jerkily tugging his shirt down from where it’s caught up by his ribs. “Okay, this is - I am low on spells right now, but if this is what it takes then I will fucking do it-”

Caduceus tunes him out, searching the visible stretch of skin on Caleb’s back for somewhere that’s not going to hurt him to be touched, and - ah, there it is.

Caleb’s tirade cuts off with a startled squeak as Caduceus wraps a palm around his side and wiggles a fingertip into the soft spot just underneath his ribs. Perfect.

He smiles triumphantly and leans over to fish for the buckle on the front of Caleb’s holsters - he’s tall enough to catch a look at Caleb’s face as he does, and finds the scrunched-up nose and twisted lips of someone trying desperately not to laugh. “Didn’t know you were ticklish,” he tells him, gently tugging at straps until he finds the ones he wants. “You could’ve said, if that’s what you were worried about.”

It’s definitely not, he knows, but he’s hoping to bait Caleb into trying to say something in the hopes of getting him to laugh - it’ll be easy enough to deal with him like this, squirming and distracted from the tickling, but he might at least have some fun in the meantime.

Caleb doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “Sta - hhh - stohoppit” he grits out, swatting at Caduceus’ hand, and he does, but only because he’s got the buckle sorted out and can finally get Caleb’s shirt all the way up.

He considers for a moment and then pulls it over the back of Caleb’s head, leaving his arms dangling loosely in the taut pull of the fabric. “Be good or I’ll tickle you again.”

It’s something he’d say to one of his siblings, and it gets an equally petulant response - Caleb growls, elbows flailing as he tries to break free of his shirt prison. “Caduceus.”

Difficult. Caduceus eyes the bare and probably-ticklish - and currently burnt up - expanse of Caleb’s exposed torso and makes a decision.

Grabbing Caleb around the ribs to hold him still, he murmurs a prayer to the Wildmother and smooths his hands over the damaged skin. Lichen sprouts beneath his fingertips and webs across the irritated skin, a beautiful thing made all the sweeter for happening amidst the salty waves of an earthless ocean. He watches for a moment, waiting for the growth to crumble away as the spell finishes and leaves pink and tender flesh in its wake.

There’s a lot of dust. Caleb’s gone still under his hands, finally, so he lets go and starts to brush everything away - curls his fingers a little more than he needs to, while he’s at it, scritching lightly here and there to see if he can find anything particularly sensitive.

“You,” Caleb says slowly, the bright edge of a laugh squirming its way up under his words, “had spells?”

“Mhmm.” The grooves of Caleb’s ribs seem particularly useful, even if lingering there for more than a moment makes him start squirming again.

“Then - what - ahhf-”

“Well, you didn’t want them earlier. I thought you could use a little fussing over.”

“But - hfff-” Definitely a laugh caught in Caleb’s throat now, words jumbling uselessly on his tongue as he tries to fight it back. Caduceus chuckles and presses his fingers carefully into the bony ridges of his ribcage, rubbing nice and slow to give him a fighting chance of getting the words out. “But I - heh - I am healed now, so-”

He considers for a moment. “Now I’m going to make you laugh,” he decides, digging in a little harder, “and we’ll go from there.”

Caleb jumps hard enough that his shirt tumbles back down around his shoulders, revealing his flushed face as he turns around to gawk. “N - hnnn - no, no, but Nott is sleeping, please-”

“Yeah, she’s a deep sleeper,” Caduceus says. “Does she know how ticklish you are?”

“I’m not,” Caleb gets out, just as Caduceus goes to tickle under his arms and finds the top edge of his ribcage instead.

The resulting shriek of laughter sounds very ticklish to him.

“Not when you’re surprised, maybe,” Cad tells him. Caleb’s starting to wobble dangerously close to toppling off the bed, too tired or distracted to stay upright, so he wraps an arm around his waist and tugs him back to sit properly in his lap. “But if I spend enough time poking around-”

He kneads at the top of Caleb’s ribcage again and finds himself with a lapful of cackling wizard - his hands are under Caleb’s shirt now, but even with his arms free the poor thing isn’t making much of an attempt to get away. “Ahaah, ahahaaa - aaa! - hah, Caduceus - please - ”

Caduceus hums and lets his hands still for a moment. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Caleb’s face is nearly as red as his hair. “It tickles,” he pleads, squeaking helplessly as Caduceus twitches a finger a little too close to his ribs.

Caduceus grins down at him. “Sure it does,” he teases, drifting down to squeeze Caleb’s sides until he starts laughing all over again. “Maybe I should just heal you like this, from now on, so you can’t wander away. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“No! Noho, please, I’m sohorry - ahahaaa!”

Whoops, his fingers are back on Caleb’s ribs again. “Yeah? You’ll stick around next time?”

“Yes,” Caleb shrieks in an very un-Caleb like way, kicking frantically as the merciless tickling heads back up under his arms. “I will, I will, plehehease!”

His voice cracks on the last word, cresting into silent laughter, and Caduceus begrudgingly deems him repentant enough that working on any other bad habits will have to wait. He pulls his hands out from under Caleb’s shirt with one last pinch to his tummy, looking over the giggling mess in his lap with the serene satisfaction of punishment well administered.

He’s been on the other end of things too, often enough - especially from Calliope - but no one here needs to know that.

Caleb sits up, the giddy remnants of a smile lingering in the corners of his mouth as he scrubs his hands furiously over his ribs. “Herr Clay,” he says, breathless, “I think that I will stay very far away from danger for the time being. Just in case.”

Caduceus just laughs at him.

[akampana]

Prompt n.24 sounds very interesting. Arturia is a king, but also a knight. And the one thing a knight has by their side, is their trusted weapon...

But we know that sometimes, a weapon is not just a weapon. Sometimes its much more...

Right, Cu Alter?

24. “You will never lose me. I will always be right here beside you.”

Cu Alter x Arturia

One-shot, set in a world where Cú Chulainn and King Arthur exist in the same time period. Enjoy! Thanks for the ask!

___

A loud clang resounded within the stone confines of the throne room, and yet it was quiet compared to the storm raging hell outside, and quieter still to the turmoil that wracked King Arthur’s mind.

Tristan’s desertion was followed by those of a number of knights. The first crack in the glass foundation that kept Camelot’s flag flying high. The exposure of Lancelot’s affair, however, was the hammer that finally smashed it to smithereens. Now here she was left amongst the rubble, with an aggrieved Gawain, a conflicted Bedivere and the cold, dead body of poor Agravain, who fell victim to her excommunicated First Knight. Arturia did not know where Merlin was. Kay had left months ago with all his fortune. She needn’t be a genius to know he wasn’t coming back.

What the people demanded was revenge for King Arthur’s cuckolding: the hunt and execution of the treacherous French knight that fled to his homeland, to whom Arturia held no grudge. Her logic demanded she carry out the farce, but what remained of her sealed-up heart did not.

From this derived her conflict, which she wrestled in solitude, here at the glaringly empty Round Table that used to seat her comrades.

Pursue the man she’s forgiven or stay her hand? Give the people what they want or stand by her own beliefs?

Arturia flinched as cool metal brushed against her fingertips, her startled eyes climbing to meet orbs the color of the wine she just spilled.

“King—!” the glare he sent her stilled her tongue at once, his inhuman crimson eyes glowing in the dim candlelight.

“Cú,” she corrected herself, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. Her thinner night garbs did little to hide the secret of her sex. In the dead of night, she wasn’t expecting any visitors. Especially not at the Round Table, which was devoid of all life at this hour.

“Has your fire gone out for the night?” she said, twisting her father’s silver ring around her thumb as she spoke, “I will arrange for a servant to assist you at once—”

“Forget it,” interrupted the brutal warrior, reclining himself into Lancelot’s former seat as he poured his own goblet. “Can’t sleep in all this racket.”

She knew instinctively he didn’t mean the storm. Regretful green eyes inspected the mess in the corner, wasted wine that was a victim to her ire. Briefly, she wondered how the foreign king could hear her from all the way in the east wing, but it was hardly important. Cú was already a man of few words. He wouldn’t waste any on small talk.

“Yer gonna chase the bastard, aren’t ya? It’s what yer subjects want,” came his raspy declaration, cutting in through the silence just before a crack of lightning illuminated the room. Their eyes clashed in the glaring white light, blood orbs against evergreen.

“I can...I cannot deny them the justice they expect of me,” she answered, grief lacing the small voice that barely carried itself through the thunder.

“So you deny yerself. Just like you’ve done all yer life. Ain’t that right, Arturia?”

It took King Arthur a moment to fully grasp what had come out of his lips. Her breath began to labor as she wracked her brain for an excuse. Panic settled into her bones faster than the snow outside seeped into the grass. Before she could formulate anything, however, she felt Cú’s fingers encircle her wrist.

“Relax. I ain’t telling no one. Weapons don’t talk, remember?” he soothed, as much as an emotionless killing machine could, anyway.

“You are not just a weapon. We have been over this.” Arturia shot back, momentarily forgetting the source of her stress.

As her frantic breaths began to still, she managed a small question. “How long have you known?”

His claws released their grip, lamenting the small indents they left on her skin. “Since ya wasted yer fourteenth seat on a foreign king that once would have torn yer land asunder.”

Cú reached past her arms, lifting the wool cloak from the short king’s chest. Sure enough, he now had his confirmation, a modest chest that was so cleverly hidden behind her armor plates.

“‘Tis of little consequence to me,” he voiced, replacing the garment she pulled so closely around herself. She watched him as he gave her another glass of wine, trying to discern if he spoke the truth.

“I don’t bloody care about what’s between yer legs, the same way you never cared for this fucking tail that trails behind me. All I need to hear are yer orders,” her allied king continued, flicking away a loose strand of hair with the scaly appendage.

“If ya wanna kill Lancelot, Arturia, I’m with ya. Point me in the way of France. But if not, then gimme some other fucking command. I don’t give a shit, as long as it’s what ya want.”

The King of Knights pursed her lip, still unaccustomed to hearing her real name from one who wasn’t supposed to know her secret. Especially when the one who used it was someone she did not expect: the displaced King of Connacht, who was more frequently an envoy serving at her court as an allied Warrior of the Round Table than the ruler of his late queen’s territory. The latter job, Cú had delegated to Fergus, as the “Mad” King had chosen to dedicate his freedom to the one that liberated him.

Arturia shook off his crass manner of speech. After nearly a decade of having him by her side, she’d grown accustomed to his language, even if he was frequently scoffed at by Agravain and Gaheris when the siblings still lived.

The reminder of her knights’ deaths led her gaze back to her table and its empty seats. There were so few that still belonged to the living. Some of them were never to be filled again. Arturia turned to her right, to where Lancelot once sat, meeting ruby eyes instead of onyx ones.

“Then how about this,” she suggested, imprinting the Irish King’s face into her memory the same way she’d done for the rest of her knights. Slowly, she slipped off the silver ring she’d been fiddling with and slid it onto his pinky.

“Return to your homeland with as much gold as you can carry and my eternal gratitude. Take a fourth of the cattle. Reward each of those in your service with one and keep the rest to enrich Connacht.”

Thunder raged on outside the castle walls, but it was the silence of the king before her that unnerved Arturia to a ridiculous extent. For while neither were as talkative as her remaining nephew, the quiet had never been quite so tense.

“The hell?” Cú finally asked, glaring at the Pendragon ring with disgust instead of honor. “You’d have me run? Do ya think me a coward—”

“—I think you are a king that should not die for the flag of a kingdom that is not his,” she cut him off, grasping his hand before he could tear her father’s ring off. “You asked for an order. This is it.”

Cú Chulainn’s claws dug into the collar of her cloak, as he pulled her to his face, a menacing look upon his countenance.

“An order?” he grunted harshly, “Or a feeble attempt at driving me away before I can leave you?”

Arturia’s struggles suddenly ceased, her limbs going limp before the foreign king finally let go of her clothes. The chairs screeched as each ruler fell back onto them, the older one far more irate than the younger.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Cú murmured, his voice soft as his fist thudded onto the circular table. “Ya’ve been an absolute tool since that depressing redhead turned in his rank, and some thoughtless fools followed. Then ya let Lancelot leave, don’t even bloody try to tell me he got away.”

Arturia turned her head, hiding her eyes behind her hay-colored hair. It mattered not how her charisma could sway crowds, her tongue knew not how to lie. Green eyes searched the empty room, counting the few chairs that would be occupied tomorrow. Her sister’s remaining sons’, Bedivere’s and...oh, how very few.

Arturia rested her hand on his fist, urging him to keep the heirloom as proof of the great service he gave Camelot.

“Go home, Cú. I cannot...I cannot lose you, too.” the British king sighed, getting used to the chill of solitude. She’d always known that a life as king was a life alone. At least with Cú, she could choose the day he left, instead of spending her time counting the days till he made his exit, just like her knights, her wizard, her brother.

“Don’t ask something so fucking stupid then go looking so damn pitiful,” he responded, flipping their hands and dragging her into his space till her lips touched his.

There was a reason Cú had stayed, pawning off Connacht to someone else that deserved it more and joining Camelot’s court instead. Not only had Arturia broken the geis that kept him tied to Medb, but she also gave him purpose.

Cú never spoke of it, but he remembered their first meeting like it was yesterday.

It was on the battlefield, back when he was still bound by geis to serve another mistress. Medb, the sly vixen, had tricked him into her service, forcing him into the frontlines till he’d slain every single one of his former comrades.

Bathed in the blood of his friends, the red clouding his vision, the man who was once Ulster’s proudest warrior was no more. His valiant face was replaced by a monstrous visage, his armaments were stained black. Upon his head sat a crown of thorns, forced onto his head by a queen who knew nothing but chaos.

Before long, the name he was proud to take up had been given new meaning. He was no longer Ulster’s guard dog, but Medb’s rabid hound, who sunk his teeth into anything and everything that so much as irked the devilish queen. Cú Alter, she called him, now that she’d bent him to her tastes. Cú Alter, a fitting name to a warrior forced to tarnish his own title.

As the bodies piled up around him, no rhyme nor reason for their slaughter, Cú began to see himself in a darker light, grasping at straws for some sort of purpose behind all the mindless killing.

He must have been a monster. A monster that massacred all that stood in his way regardless of honor and glory. Yes, that must have been it, he convinced himself, finally submitting to the dark cage that his hated loathsome queen had put him under.

As the black chains dragged him deeper and deeper into his own personal hell, he took up his spear once again. It lashed out whenever he touched it, staining itself dark till the vibrant red he used to wield was nowhere to be found. Once more, to the battlefield, said Medb. Once more, he tore across it with a godlike ease.

Then suddenly the cursed spear collided with its match, a sword of shining light that glowed as bright as its wielder. He remembered the moment so clearly, his breath hitching at his throat as his strikes were pushed back, the wind pressure whipping his hood out of his face. His heart pounded with adrenaline as his gaze fell down to his opponent: a tiny little thing, so small they should have fallen to his last strike, but there they still stood, defiant green eyes staring up at him with no fear.

Rage overtook his figure, fueling his strikes as he tried to cast the small warrior back, but all his efforts were met with equal force.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.” a small voice, too fragile to have been a man’s, rung out across the battlefield. Spear met sword once again, pausing in their dance.

“Your name, knight.”

Even though he stayed on his feet, it was like the king had pulled the rug from under him. Their eyes locked once more, and he saw himself within the green irises, staring mouth agape at his opponent.

His name? His name? How long had it been since he’d been asked for his name? How many foes had he slain since then? How many nameless faces had he sent to the grave? How could this person, this puny king, take one look at his monstrous form and face him like a knight regardless?

“Cú Chulainn,” came his raspy voice, which too often had been used to roar like a beast. It felt foreign on his lips, which had ‘til then spoke nothing but bitter resentment.

That day, Arturia saw more than the monster. More than the weapon he’d disillusioned himself into being. Cú followed the king after Medb’s defeat, intending to find some proof that it was all a fluke, but it never happened. Arturia never treated him or her knights like a weapon or a tool. Arturia treated him like an equal.

And now, years spent the line, she was robbing him of that feeling, sending him away with glory and riches. If he were younger, he’d have jumped at the prize of heroic fame, but that was no longer what he wanted. What he wanted was to be right here, right next to the person that made him feel human again.

As their lips parted, Cú sent a glare through the empty seats of each of the deserters. He’d never understand how they could leave their king behind. He’d met his fair share of monarchs— hell, he technically was one—and even as belligerent a person he was, he wouldn’t wield his spear for any other.

“You will never lose me,” Cú declared in between rough kisses. “I will always be right here beside you. Understand?”

The Irishman returned her ring as she nodded, breathless, into his shoulder. She had one. Even if the world were to turn on Arturia, she still had one. One that would stay forever beside her.

Beside her...

Beyond Cú, the shorter king saw the backrest of Lancelot’s former seat, and finally, she knew just what to do to settle the people and follow her heart at the same time.

“Disregard my previous orders. Heed this instead…”

As the words left his king’s lips, Cú Chulainn proudly grinned.

[laequiem]

Mal d’amour - Part 5

/5 times the High King of Elfhame missed his exiled wife + 1 time she had enough.

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand.

Cardan’s.

read on ao3 • masterlist • part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4 • last part

Cardan

It was already dark when I woke up from my dream and gave the package to Liliver. Due to mortals’ strange habit of living during the day, we have to wait the entire night before one of the spies can deliver the package. 

Needless to say, I do not pay much attention to the various meetings and meals I attend during the night. I doubt courtiers notice, given my usual blasé attitude. 

My participation in today’s revel consists mostly of drinking wine and asking the servants for more wine. Whenever someone approaches me for requests or conversation, I reply so shortly that they leave quickly. Nearing sunrise, the Ghost approaches and tells me the package is on its way.

I try to look like I am at least enjoying the revel in front of me. My tail is curled around my calf to prevent it from lashing wildly and betraying my nervousness. My fingers drum absentmindedly on the armrests of the throne as I stare distantly at nothing.

I only last half an hour after the Ghost’s appearance before I retreat from the throne room. 

The Bomb

The air of Portland, Maine stinks of iron and gasoline. Nothing like the mossy and flowery scent of Elfhame. Liliver lifts her scarf over her glamoured face, hoping the fabric will filter some of the iron out. It doesn't work, not really, but at least she will not be staying here for long.

High King Cardan has assigned her the task of delivering a package, as if her talents weren't better used elsewhere. She had agreed, or course—money is money. Plus, she hopes to sneak a glimpse of Jude and assess how her friend is doing. 

Ever since she left, she has been fighting the urge to peek at the contents of the package. It is about the size and weight of a dinner plate and is delicately wrapped in dark green fabric. Seeing how the King hid the thing, it must be quite valuable.

From the rooftop of the building opposite Vivienne Duarte’s apartment, Liliver can see Jude. She is sprawled on an old couch, numbly looking at some square box with moving images. She seems to be the only person in the small house right now—the perfect moment to deliver the package. The High King has made it clear that Jude has to be seen receiving it. Liliver cannot blame him for being careful. 

She makes her way across the street, climbing the stairs as quietly as she can. After placing the box on the floor, she presses the button next to the door and knocks twice. She then jumps to the roof of the adjacent building, making sure she has a good view of the door.

And then she waits.

Jude

Jude groans as she gets up from her spot on the couch for the first time since waking up this morning. Vivi left for work hours ago. Usually, she tells Jude when she is expecting a delivery. Maybe the person rang the wrong doorbell. Still, Jude makes her way to the front door. A peek through the peephole reveals that nobody is on the other side. 

It’s been 30 seconds, they better not have put one of those “sorry we missed you!” notices or else she swears—

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand. 

Cardan’s.

Her chest tightens and she takes a deep breath. Is this hope or fear? It is her first time hearing from Cardan in more than six months. Part of her hopes that he will revoke her banishment and ask her to come back, but why would he? He is finally free to rule the kingdom by himself and be as cruel and unhinged as he wants to be.

The package looks out of place here, everything from the dried flowers used to decorate it to its delicate grassy smell scream Faerieland.

Jude closes the door behind her as she brings the package inside, certain that someone is out there watching her. She won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her reaction. She shoves the clutter off the coffee table and puts the package on it as she sits on the couch once again.

For a few minutes, she just stares at it, wondering if it isn’t better to just throw it out. 

Like he threw me out, she hears the intrusive thought over the roaring in her head, loud and unwelcome. 

She clenches her jaw, then undoes the strings tying the fabric together. Inside is a nicely carved wooden box topped by a folded piece of paper. She picks up the piece of paper and unfolds it. Her hands are shaking slightly, with fear or rage she does not know. 

When she reads it, however, the rage takes over.

I miss you.

Your devoted servant,

Cardan

Jude crumples the piece of paper in her hand and lets it fall to the floor. She opens the box and immediately sees red. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she screams to herself as she picks up the crown, its jewels sparkling in the artificial light of Vivienne’s apartment.

She has never seen it before. Cardan either found it deep in the vault or he had it made only to send it to her as a sick joke. In a fit of rage, she throws the crown against the wall and storms to her room. 

Her clothes are scattered everywhere, some of them lying on her air mattress for what might have been weeks. She picks out the darkest, most flexible clothes, then reaches under her mattress for Nightfell.

If it’s trouble he’s after, he’ll find her. 

Cardan

“I almost feel bad, Your Majesty,” the Roach says, “pay up.”

I knew trying to sleep was useless, so I headed for the Court of Shadow headquarters instead, where I have been playing cards with the Roach and the Ghost for hours now.

“I hope you’re not cheating,” the Ghost replies, “the punishment could be deadly.”

I lost every single game.

I am not paying enough attention to win.

The cards in my hands are blurry, their numbers and designs utterly meaningless. 

All I can think about is Jude.

Jude, opening my package and packing her things to come back here. 

Jude, opening my package and immediately throwing it out. 

Jude, immediately throwing the package out without looking inside.

This woman has occupied my every thought for years, and I still cannot predict her moves. She is a puzzle, a challenge I want to lose myself in solving. All I can hope for is that she opened it, at least. 

My last letter. My last gift. My last chance.

If this is all the time I had with her, I royally (urgh) fucked up. 

The Roach gathers the jewels from the middle of the table and brings them to his side.

I discard my hand and reach out to shuffle the deck when his attention snaps to the door, to the small form who just entered.

Immediately, I get up and walk to meet the Bomb.

“Did you find her?” I ask

“Yes,” she says, “She picked it up. I could not confirm that she opened it, but she brought it inside.”

“How is she?” I cannot stop the questions from pouring out of me.

“She looks… different,” she frowns.

I understand she is trying to find a way to phrase it without upsetting me. I do not even know what would upset me more, her being happy in the Mortal Realm, or her being miserable. 

“I see,” I sigh, “Thank you.”

The words feel wrong coming from me—yet they seem right in the moment. I do not know if I have ever thanked someone before. But these people, Jude’s spies, have been dealing with me for the last half-year. They have seen me at my lowest. I cannot go much lower than crying after a particularly gruesome nightmare.

I did not tell them this was my last time reaching out to Jude. From the look of pity in the Bomb’s eyes, she knows. I can’t stand it. I walk past her and leave the Court of Shadows.

The hallways are almost empty as I make my way to the cellars. The guards stand straighter as I pass the various rooms, but none of them stop me or try to talk to me. 

When I get to the cellars, I grab the worst bottle I can find. I wish the royal cellars had some really low quality alcohol—a budding brewer’s first try, anything that would taste as bad as I feel—but even the worst of the collection is still good. I drink the whole bottle.

Then another.

I drink until I forget.

Forget the responsibilities, the kingdom resting on my unworthy shoulders.

I try to forget about Jude, but I black out before I can.

[cherryjuicegf]

Geraskier prompt 💜🥰

(5+1) 5 times Geralt showed Jaskier he loves him +1 time he actually said it out loud (geraskier-trashh)

thank you so much for the prompt, i hope you enjoy! 💕

i.

If Jaskier was in the mood of reciting poetry right now, he would definitely say something about how the soles of his boots had become one with the ground to the point he sometimes wondered if he actually wore shoes. They had been walking all day, barely stopping for ten minutes before they set off again. He dared not speak, he knew they had to reach the next town without any delay, they were really out of supplies now and Geralt wouldn't put up with another night under the stars just because he couldn't move his feet. Well, it was not just because. But he knew better than to whine for the hundredth time that day, realizing he was wasting his saliva.

That did not stop him from grunting though. And if he had to be honest, he didn't grunt to get on Geralt's nerves, although he knew he had succeeded at that with flying colours. But he was tired. Really tired.

At least Geralt was walking beside him. At least. Otherwise he would collapse just by looking at him resting on Roach's back while he was dragging his feet on the ground.

The sun had almost set.

"Are we there yet?" That was the question he concluded to after another choir of grunts and sighs accompanied by a lively performance of stumbling every five minutes. When Geralt didn't answer he took the chance to sigh once more, for the drama of it all.

And then Geralt stopped. Turned at him, and Jaskier knew perfectly well that look of utter indignation. And waited to be sweared at, smiling to himself. Only that Geralt's expression wasn't that of a man ready to swear.

"Get on Roach."

Jaskier was persuaded he heard wrong and didn't bother to move an inch. But then Geralt pushed him forward with a sigh that was almost fond. "Go on."

"Um... Are you–"

"Last chance."

He'd be a fool to miss it. So he climbed Roach as the mare snorted and wiggled her tail and he stroked her neck with an endearment. They went on. He glanced at Geralt. Didn't wait to receive a glance in return though. He just smiled.

Geralt didn't look back. "Don't get asleep up there," he said, even though he didn't mean it, and when he heard a whispered *thank you* that was almost lost with the wind, he hummed.

ii.

"You're a fucking idiot."

"Why, thank you." Jaskier pouted and hissed silently as Geralt cleaned the blood off his bruised cheek with a wet cloth. He knew he had no right to complain now, particularly when Geralt was rather gentle with his movements, albeit the annoyance in his eyes. Yet he would burst if he didn't say anything. "You're not less of an idiot yourself." Geralt opened his eyes wide and stareed at him, making it really hard for him to hold back his laughter. "Excuse me, dear witcher," he snorted, "were you not the one who said you didn't care about what sort of trouble I got myself in from now on? You were, yes, yes, you were. So you had no business dragging me from the fight, as you have no business tending to my cheek right now. Right?"

"Shut up, Jaskier." Geralt pressed the cloth on the bard's cheek ever so slightly, just to receive another his and Jaskier getting his tongue out at him. He hid a smile. "You'd be beaten up in an alley had I not been there."

"Aww, you sweet soul," Jaskier chuckled and had no intention of regretting it although the witcher glared at him. He squinted in thought for a moment, then grinned. "Ohh, I see."

Geralt grimaced. "You see, huh?"

"Yes, I see. You don't want me to get beaten up, is that right? You don't like it, no matter how you tease about it. I know now. You wouldn't let anyone hurt me, Geralt. You love me too much to do that. You would never."

Geralt halted for a second, his hand hovering above Jaskier's cheek. Thought of raising his look but he glanced to the side instead, swallowed. Then went on cleaning the last of the blood.

No sound was heard for a couple of minutes. Paradoxically. He finished applying a salve on the bard's cheek and stood up without turning to look at him.

The air felt a bit heavy.

"Geralt." Jaskier didn't wait for the witcher to answer and the hum he received almost made him choke on his words. "You wouldn't, would you?"

He saw Geralt freezing for a moment, then his breath hitched. He turned around and Jaskier would lie if he said he had seen his eyes soft like that before. Geralt shook his head lightly. "No, I wouldn't."

I love you too much for that.

He stayed silent. The grin he saw on Jaskier's face was enough.

iii.

Geralt returned to the camp to see Jaskier's head hidden in the saddlebags, cursing in a language he wasn't entirely sure he'd heard before. The bard revealed himself with an exasperated grunt.

"I can't find my pen," he said even though Geralt didn't ask and kept on searching inside the bag. "It has to be here, I put it here! It can't just be lost! What, did it pop out legs? No, it fucking didn't, of course it didn't, so where the fuck – oh, what's this?"

Geralt had barely managed to make out what Jaskier was holding in the firelight and his heart flutttered when he understood. "Not that!" He saw Jaskier hesitating, his eyes darkening before he nodded and went to put the little box he was holding back in the bag. Geralt snorted. "No, keep it, it's–" He paused, thought about it for the millionth time since he'd bought it and tried to speak. Not that he would succeed anyway. "I bought it... I-I thought you'd like it."

Jaskier frowned in confusion for a couple of seconds before he understood and his face lit up like the sun. "Oh, for... me?" Geralt nodded. He could watch him smiling like that forever. Jaskier opened the box and gasped. "Oh, Geralt."

He took the ring in his hands, stroked his thumb over it. It was silver, carved with flowers on the top. His cheeks were burning. Probably his eyes too. "Geralt, it's beautiful." He looked up at the witcher and saw him smiling faintly, and his heart singed with love. "Thank you so much, dear." He slipped the ring on his finger, stared at it. Felt Geralt approaching.

"It suits you."

He looked up, met his eyes. Their stares were locked for a second. Then Geralt snorted and glanced at the ground, taking some steps back. Jaskier didn't speak. Only closed his eyes.

iv.

The sound of whimpers made Geralt open his eyes and huffing as he realized it was still night. He stayed still for some moments, heard the whimpers coming from behind his back and turned around. Sleep abandoned him entirely as he saw Jaskier's shoulders shaking, his face hidden inside his hands. He was taking deep breaths that didn't manage to stable the whining escaping his lips. Geralt sat on the bedroll and gently placed his hand on the bard's shoulder. "Jaskier."

Jaskier jerked in surprise and his head whipped to the side just to find Geralt looking at him with a deep frown. Suddenly, he felt worse than before. "Fuck, I woke you, I'm sorry," he panted and ran his hands through his hair, heaving a long sigh and closing his eyes.

Geralt hummed and came closer. "It's fine. What's going on?" Jaskier glanced at him behind his lashes and he discerned unshed tears hanging on their edges. A sudden desire to kiss them dry overwhelmed him and he swallowed hard.

"Nothing, just a nightmare." Jaskier wiped his eyes on his own and cleared his throat. "I'll go to sleep again and it'll vanish." A fake smile curved his lips. Geralt felt his heart aching. The way Jaskier's hands trembled on his knees made it hard to resist the urge to hold them.

Still, as Jaskier laid down without speaking and he saw his shoulders still shaking under the blanket, he knew he'd be damned if he went back to sleep. So he dragged his bedroll closer and wrapped his hand around the bard, holding him tight on his chest until the trembling stopped and Jaskier breathed a sleepy hum and Geralt felt warmth flooding his body. And even if after some time he leaned to press a kiss on Jaskier's head, no one would ever know. And he hoped Jaskier was too exhausted to feel it.

And Jaskier smiled.

v.

"I'm going to win and you can bet to that! Those people are amateurs, can't even compose a proper rhyme. It's too easy."

Geralt shook his head. "Better keep your mouth shut in front of them if that's the only thing you're gonna say for the next days."

Jaskier huffed and strummed his lute, raised his head proudly. "Please, what are they gonna do? Sing me to death? There are barely two or three worthy opponents."

The walls of Novigrad showed up before them. Geralt peered at them before turning to the bard, just to see him wearing the same expression of slight hesitation he didn't dare to make visible. Jaskier lowered his eyes, then looked at him, bitting his lip. "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can," he tilted his head with a smile, "I can buy as as much ale as you want with the money of the prize, we'll... have a celebration."

Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted, staring into begging blue eyes. But he shook his head. "There's a noonwraith in the next town. I can't stay." The darkening of Jaskier's face made his heart ache. "We can celebrate after I'm done," he rushed to say and really hoped he didn't sound too desperate. Jaskier's wide grin erased his fear.

"You're right!" He shifted the lute in his hands and took some steps, waving his hand at the witcher. "I'll see you then, Geralt." Then turned to leave.

Geralt clenched his fists, sniffed. He raised his look. "Jaskier." The bard looked back, eyebrows raised and eyes gleaming. Geralt gazed at him. Oh, how he loved. How he loved him. "Take care."

Jaskier smirked, stared at him for some moments and nodded. Then turned around again.

vi.

Geralt thought it was a good time.

He had put way much thought into it to reach to a conclusion. Thought that had kept him going for quite long, thought that gave him the illusion of impermanence. He was refuted though by his own self, every time his look flied to the man standing beside him to always find him there, with a speech ready on his lips and a sparkling light flowing from his eyes. Annoying, he would once say. Still said. But not just.

It was simple. Ever so simple, so that he wondered what held him back previously. This time he didn't think about it. Maybe that's what made the difference. He didn't think. Only spoke what he saw.

"Jaskier." The bard was sitting beside him on the log, strumming soft melodies and working out rhymes. He raised his head and met Geralt's look. Geralt tilted his head, observed him. The way his eyebrows raised in question, the way his lips curved into a curious smile.

Jaskier waited, not long though, as the shade he discerned in Geralt's eyes wasn't one of a starting conversation. It was calm and gentle, almost loving. He shook his head. "What?"

Geralt frowned, then bit his lip, as if making a last moment's decision. And when he made it, he spoke. "I love you."

He realised that no matter how many years he knew Jaskier, the expressions that passed from his face at once were too difficult to decipher. Yet Jaskier didn't seem surprised. Only he seemed happy, happier than before as he chuckled softly and placed the lute beside him without turning away. "I love you too, Geralt."

Oh, no. That was wrong. He can't have understood...

Geralt huffed shaking his head. "No, it's not... I mean–"

"Geralt." Jaskier came closer and took the witcher's face inside his hands. "I love you too."

Oh.

It was simple. Ever so simple.

So Geralt simply leaned and pressed their lips together just enough to feel Jaskier's breath warming his face. A simple touch. And then Jaskier went deeper into the kiss and Geralt couldn't believe how familiar loving Jaskier felt, as if every time he'd silently said I love you, he proceeded to be as loud about it as he could.

So it was simple. He had loved Jaskier before. He would love him now too. Not silently, though.

Now he would love him out loud.

~

send me a prompt and i'll write you a fic ✨

[capriciouslyterminal]

Wolves Don’t Do True Love’s Kiss

(Aka I wrote an Ishimondo Wolf Among Us oneshot thing instead of editing a paper and I’ve never posted my writing on tumblr before).

~Full idea credit goes to @andy-deer​ and his amazing art if you like Danganronpa or just cool art you really should follow him~

~Mondo’s the big bad wolf, Ishimaru’s the blind prince from Rapunzel. I know in the original fairytale I think the prince is blinded by thorns but listen a version of him being blinded by snakes lives in my brain from somewhere and I couldn’t not write it.~

~P.S. I don’t know that much about Wolf Among Us and I am sorry about that~

Mondo Oowada had been having the same dream a lot lately, ever since that night he shoved the guy who used to be The Minotaur through the display case of a yarn shop.

Normally he and the other fables didn’t have such violent altercations now that he split off from the pack, but then the detective called in a fucking favor from the big bad wolf himself.

And what else was he supposed to do? When the guy wouldn’t own up to the blood of all those teenagers stuck in his teeth and he wanted to put his horns through the dancing princess turned detective and her naive sidekick?

If he’d known the whole thing was going to lead to a blind prince from another story storming up to his apartment from the DA’s office to yell at him about property damage and chances of exposing the whole fable community at two in the morning while he was trying to sleep of the few times he got gored, he wouldn’t have bothered. 

It really wasn’t his fault The Minotaur couldn’t afford enough glamor to withstand a single punch. And he’d told the annoying little shit as much, but the whole thing inevitably meant that he was seeing a lot of Kiyotaka Ishimaru whenever he was roped into being the muscle behind Kirigiri’s investigations. Which was fine. And normal.

But then the dreams started after that night at the bar, and everything changed.

~*~

He doesn’t know when it changed, when he went from running in the forest of his mind on four feet to two as he slept.

He never lost the sights or the smells of the old forest that had no name. But now he ran it as a man. No matter the wolf he would always be deep in his heart.

It was something like when his brother died. He’d been too young, hadn’t even finished cutting his teeth, when he was shunted from the dreams of hurtling through the night at the front of the pack to hurtling alone through the end of days.

There the isolation was a nightmare, a punishment, but this is not the same. This is a simple shifting of reality.

Sometimes he wonders, looking at the webs of veins stretched under the skin on the backs of his hands in the gray light of morning, when the glamor started to feel more real than his body. 

When he grew so used to the delicate tapping of hands, to standing tall and far from the ground, that the memory of the nights spent slinking through the shadows on his belly faded. He would never truly know when that was lost.

All that meant was that now, whenever he had to shift back, it was no longer the shrugging off of a costume like in the early days in this new town. 

It was shouldering back into an old coat, ill-fitting and smelling of pine, that stretched at the seams to hold him.

He was freezing now, dreaming, skin unprotected from the winter that could steal the breath from your lungs. He was running towards the tower with a panting in his heart and a frenzied howl in his mind. 

~*~

He mentioned it only once, over drinks.

Or, well, more specifically, only Mondo had the real drinks. Something old and amber that burned as it went down. Something served in a glass of gently melting ice that was always refilled whenever he shot a slip of teeth to the bartender and flexed his bloody knuckles while eyeing the shelves of glassware behind him.

The bartender in another life, another place, not that it mattered much anymore, had been a pig. Mondo could tell not just from the swell of his pale throat and the slight tilt of his nose, but the fear that sprang in the air as soon as Mondo had entered that first night in town. The man froze like he was still the prey.

As soon as he’d entered the establishment for the first time, and seen the bartender shakily reach to stroke the brick wall for comfort, he knew the little pig remembered him. Mondo hadn’t paid for drinks in four years, and he hadn’t even needed to threaten to blow down the joint.

Not that he would do that anymore. Now, with cigarettes and cash in the pockets of his long coat, he would have had some complaints for the structure of the building and nothing more to add. Now, he could have figured out how to bring it down with his fist in moments instead of having to empty his lungs.  

Getting Kiyotaka within the brickwork bar’s confines had been an accomplishment of its own, a sign of respect for their still growing friendship that made Mondo swell with pride and grin to himself at the sight of an old world prince crammed into a booth at his favorite dingy bar.

The first time he asked for drinks after a successful arrest, and had seen Kiyotaka nod against the neon backdrop of the city with an uncertain smile, he’d practically howled with glee. If he still had his tail it would have wagged.

 But getting him to sip anything harder than soda water was a losing man’s game.

~*~

The pines are so familiar he could think of them as his own brothers, feeding the deer whose innards he lived on before he found new villages to savage. Even as he left the skin of the wolf, he would never be free of this forest that still shuddered with his howls if he stopped to listen.

But the tower, crooked and dark against the snowy sky, is new. Rising from the thorny ground as if it had been summoned from Hell itself.

A break in the tree-line, a monument of dark stone frozen in a twisting shudder as it reached for the clouds. The single shining yellow window gleams like an eye watching him approach. 

If he saw eyes like than in an animal he’d think it was rotting from the inside out. He wouldn’t eat it, and instead leave it to bleed sluggishly into the soft earth.

The tower is sick.

A man is climbing it.

~*~

He’d been five drinks deep, warm in the belly and ready to curl up by the golden hearth that kept the bar warm, when it finally happened. He hadn’t actually curled up by a hearth in years, and would only consider it after five more drinks.

But needless to say, he was drowning in golden comfort when he’d asked about the tower. 

When he felt the air that had been so warm a moment ago freeze as the words left his mouth. A question that had been scratching at the backdoor of his mind since Kiyotaka had pounded on his door and demanded Mondo put on a proper glamor when he accidentally grabbed a hunk of his hair.

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Mondo said. The words slurred, flowing between his teeth and tongue like a river. “A blind prince of all fuckin’ people. Breaking and entering.”

There was that twitch of an eyebrow, displeasure kept on a tight leash, that made Mondo’s heart clench with fondness. 

It was a feeling like he swallowed the sun, his gut full of light, only for it try to kick its way back up out of his throat.

“I wasn’t always–I did not break anything! And I entered with permission.” 

Kiyotaka had discovered the napkin dispenser on the table earlier in the night, sopping up a ring of condensation that Mondo had been happy to leave to sink into the table. He made use of it now, and quickly shredded a napkin between his pale fingers.

“Come off it, man.” Mondo chuckled, raised the glass to his lips, and took another swig. “What would permission to break into a tower in the middle of the fuckin’ woods even sound like?”

“I didn’t break into her tower.” Even blind, Kiyotaka knew how to glare with the best of them. Another napkin was plucked from the table, but he worried at it for a bit longer this time.

“She was screaming,” Kiyotaka said. “I was nearby, hunting, and at first I thought it was the wind. But then I really listened. And she was screaming.”

~*~

The man is up higher than the treetops, clutching the stones of the tower with his bare hands. The wind is whispering, the clouds humming in anticipation.

Mondo breaks into the space, and a name rings out like a bell in his throat. He howls with it, staring up at the figure as he runs. He is too far away to catch him should anything happen.

When the man turns to look down, all Mondo can see is the red pinprick of his eyes burning against the grey eternity of the sky. And his hands.

His fingers are bloody at the tips, streaks of crimson left on the stones. He broke his nails against the brick of the tower, flecks of scratched into his pale skin. He surely has been climbing for days and is nowhere closer to the top.

Even as he runs, Mondo knows that though he has hands, he cannot climb fast enough to reach him.

“Stop!” He hears himself roar. “You’ll fall.”

The man looks down, and Mondo feels his smile on the wind. He is weeping, tears freezing before they reach the ground to shatter into icy shards.

~*~

“What did you hunt?” Mondo was not sure where the words came from inside of him.

Kiyotaka’s sightless eyes were pale flecks of ice under his furrowed brow. He crumpled the napkin in his hands, and immediately tried to smooth it out with a regretful twist to his mouth.

“I don’t know for sure anymore…it was so long ago. But there was talk of a wolf, I think.”

He let the space hang between them, gave Mondo a chance to haul him up by his collar with a growl. But the rage never came. Mondo knew him now.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t much of a hunter. But I knew that my grandfather should have–,” his voice melted as it always did when the old king came into the conversation. “It is the royal family’s duty to protect their people.”

The freezing slush of the past seeped down Mondo’s spine. For a second he almost could see his breath, as if the old forest had risen back up around him.

For a second he could almost imagine it. Them meeting there. 

He could imagine himself standing on all fours heaving, staring into burning red eyes against a dark and ancient sky. A figure fit to stop his rampaging ways. Not a woodsman, crude and homely, but a prince. 

Would he have used a bow? A sword? What would have come first? A slice through Mondo’s belly or Mondo’s teeth in his neck?

But those times were long gone, and the quiet murmur of bar patrons tethered the two of them in the present.

“She screamed, and I followed the sound…and I found the tower. I called up to her.”

Mondo could imagine that with ease. Kiyotaka thundering out of the forest like a madman, yelling up at a witch’s tower to try and ascertain if a screaming woman needed his help. 

Kiyotaka trying to figure out the best way to help her as the sun went down and the temperature fell. 

Kiyotaka shedding a finely embroidered coat to climb a random ass tower despite any good sense he might have been taught.

His princely fingers, tapered and gentle.

“I thought she had lowered a rope. I didn’t know until I held it in my hands that it was her hair. Sometimes I can still feel the slick weight it.” 

His hands clenched, old scars scraped into the pads of his fingertips drawing across the table.

~*~

The man leans back, and with the gentle gasp of the wind, he falls.

Mondo is sure his heart falls with him

~*~

“She was so young. And so frightened, Mondo. I don’t think I’ll ever forget her face,” Kiyotaka said, stricken. “Her hair falling to the floor.”

Mondo was only aware of the thundering breaths he drew in and had to focus to release with care. The howling of the wind was still inside of him, screaming to be let out.

“I promised her I’d help her, find a way to get her out of that place. I had to.  It was a single room and it was freezing. In the middle of winter! Imagine it, Mondo, a single stone room is all you know for eighteen years. I think I was the first man she’d ever seen. She stared at me like she couldn’t understand what I was. She held my hands and…and she wept.”

His hands were shaking bad. Mondo focused on his breath and felt claws scrape somewhere down deep with his bones, hiding under the skin of a man.

“I promised her I’d help her because that was my duty to my people. Because she deserved more than to be a witch’s prisoner. I promised her that I’d keep her safe. I just needed a ladder, something so she could climb down. I had to go back for one, and she didn’t want to let go of my hand. I had to pry her fingers off my wrist. She cried after me.” He admitted it like some shame, like something heavy on his chest that Mondo understood.

“It took a full day’s ride to return. I hadn’t realized how far I’d travelled. And as soon as I found a ladder long enough I turned and went straight back. I think I almost killed my horse, but I couldn’t stop to think.” 

The words were falling out of him faster and faster. Mondo didn’t know how to stop him.

“When I got back, when I called up to her, there was no sound. She tossed nothing down for me. So I climbed on my own.” His fingertips twitched, a sardonic grin followed them and looked wrong on his face. “But I was too late. I wasn’t fast enough. She was not there to greet me upon my return. But the witch was.”

~*~

The man is caught in thorns. His fine clothes in the style of their homeland torn and dirtied. He is bleeding from his crown and moaning, but he does not scream. His bones are broken, his skin is bloody, his eyes are screwed tightly shut.

Mondo feels something terrible will happen once he opens them.

The snakes are looming, dry static across the ground.

Mondo flings himself into the thorns on instinct bred by his old skin and bellows at the pain of it.

~*~

Mondo suddenly reached out, on instinct bred by his old skin, and felt himself take Kiyotaka’s hand.

The prince of the old world was startled. Mondo heard the stutter of his heart. The gasp of his breath.

Mondo knew a want like a chasm, stretching and straining from his chest through his whole body. It drove him to hunt, to shatter, to shrink his pupils to slits, and to take all the world had with a guttural howl. This want shuddered through his body at the sight of Kiyotaka, golden in the light, parting his lips to speak.

He wants–he wants–he wants–

In a way he had not wanted since the old days.

~*~

He rips into the throats and bellies of snake after snake. He tears scale and muscle with his teeth and flings the corpses away with his hands until the ground is littered with them.

Only when they are all dead, when the root-like curve of their bodies are all he can see, does he turn back to the man. He whimpers and the tears leak from under his closed eyes. He is beautiful.

Mondo takes his face in his hands, feels the sharp press of his cheekbone against the palm of his hand, and moves close enough to feel the warmth of his shuddering breath on his face. Holding him close, their foreheads almost touching.

Mondo feels the venom drip from his lips now, venom from the throats of the snakes that would fall to the man’s eyes and have force him cry out while his body recoiled. Venom that would steal his sight and cast his eyes in icy nothingness.

But it is all he can do to press even closer, feel the man’s heart beat in one with his own, and ghost his lips over the chilled ones.

The man screams into the kiss, and Mondo howls with him.

He always wakes in a cold sweat, and the moon is full and staring down at him from the sky.

~*~

Kiyotaka had continued the story, Mondo had not listened, too entranced by the simple impossibility of holding Kiyotaka’s hand.

“I think she kept her there the whole time, Mondo. And I don’t know what I wanted to do but that woman…she told me I had failed to protect the girl and she–she grabbed me and…” 

Mondo could hear Kiyotaka’s heart thundering in his chest. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, tears welling up the creases of his eyes. It was like he could feel Mondo looking at him even as he kept his eyes downcast.

“And I fell.” His voice was hardly a rasp, utterly hollow. 

Again, Mondo moved on instinct.

Pulling Kiyotaka to him felt like coming home, squeezing his arms around his back as tight as he dared felt like obeying a rule of the new world. Like casting a glamor.

“Hey man, it’s alright now,” Mondo murmured. Something warm blossomed through the want in his chest, and it coated his voice.

“Mondo.” Kiyotaka’s voice was strangled, his arms hovered above Mondo’s back, as if he were unsure how to put them down.

“None of that shit matters anymore, yeah? You’re here now. With me. And I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you again, swear on my fuckin’ life.”

Kiyotaka took in a shaking breath that hitched in his chest.

“We’re out of the woods, Taka. You and me.”

Kiyotaka let out the slightest sob, equal parts relieved and haunted, and finally wrapped his arms around Mondo. He surrendered himself into the embrace, and Mondo felt everything inside of him shift as Kiyotaka Ishimaru took up residence within the beating of his heart.

And everything changed, simple as that.

~Thank you for reading this, if you did! And thank you again to @andy-deer for their amazing art which has made me smile any day when I was feeling particularly down~