#once bitten is still absolutely my top priority though

[justruse]

the way i have three more ideas for interactive fics in addition to ONCE BITTEN. the pain of not having enough time in the day to work on all of them.

[midnightlie]

title: the first to the last (kiss fic #8) pairing: keith/lance notes: we made it into s8 territory fellas. in which keith has a plan.

*

So. Keith had these...plans.

A lot of it was typical stuff. Small stuff. Like, he had plans to read this long list of romance novels he’d accumulated over the course of the past year. He had plans to ask Hunk for a few cooking pointers since he was kinda rusty when it came to variety in the kitchen. He had plans to fix up his old hoverbike after one of the gears busted, to repaint it, to gift it to Acxa, who seemed fond of the thing. He had plans to go through his old belongings in that long-forgotten shed in the middle of the desert, to clean it out and take what he needed, to leave what he didn’t.

But...there were some big plans, too. Huge plans.

Like: taking Lance to Cuba.

Like: having a very important conversation with Lance’s mother, about a very important, very top secret question he wanted to ask.

Like: asking Lance this question.

He didn’t have everything figured out, but he wasn’t really worried about that. Keith had never really been the type of guy to make plans. Impulse and reckless abandon were more his speed, but he’d learned that he was capable of a lot of things he never knew he could be, after Lance.

Like: gentleness.

Like: loving someone, and being loved in return.

Like: making plans.

It is easy, to want to do these things. Lance, with his thousand watt smile and his adorably tousled hair, turns his big blue, sparkly baby-i-love-ya eyes on him and that’s it. He doesn’t even have to ask. Keith just—wants.

But as a paladin of Voltron, and a ranking officer in the Garrison - as a soldier - plans are always subject to change. Which is how Keith found himself in the middle of space with a new set of plans. They are much less about Lance, which sucks, and much more about finally putting an end to this god forsaken war they’d all been dragged into.

Most of the time, they are dangerous, too. So, despite the separated missions, the orders from high officers on the ATLAS, the risk of death hanging over their heads every damn day, Keith’s first and only priority is making sure that he comes back to Lance, every time, no matter what. There is little else to fight for, if not for this future he sees so clearly behind closed eyelids. Every night, he dreams of waking up in a house near the beach, smothered beneath a sleepy, heartfelt boy who wears a ring on his third finger and a dog as big as a horse, lined in the gold of the morning sunshine, dust motes twinkling like stars.

They’ll get there someday.

That’s the plan, at least.

Keith pulls away from those thoughts as the black lion’s jaw hinges open and he steps into the hangar. It’s kind of late - he was due back hours ago from a simple mission to pick up supplies on a nearby planet, but there had been complications and well—

The wind is suddenly knocked out of him as a flash of blue barrels into his chest and collapses on top of him as he hits the floor. He doesn’t have any time at all to recover because Lance is there, pressing harried kisses into the screen of his visor, hands gripping fiercely at Keith’s shoulders as he crouches over him, unforgiving in his crowding presence, though Keith remains totally unbothered by the close proximity.

“Lance,” he laughs, one arm pinned by Lance’s knee, the other reaching up to grab at the his waist. “Lance—“

Lance doesn’t even pause, expression a total blur, as he rips the helmet off Keith’s head and then leans in desperately, hands cupping Keith’s face firmly as he presses his mouth against his. The hand on Lance’s waist curls, applying more pressure and snaking an armored arm around as Keith struggles to free his other arm. His eyes flutter shut, groaning as heat explodes under the collar of his high-necked flight suit when Lance licks his bottom lip aggressively and bites down.

Lance seems to approve of that sound, his knees sliding further apart in a wide straddle as he melts to rest the majority weight on top of Keith, freeing the trapped arm. His hands stay near Keith’s face, brushing away the spill of dark hair around his ears and holding the strong line of his jaw. Keith gathers him closer as he reaches up with his other arm now to grip the back of Lance’s neck, eagerly returning the kiss with scrunched eyebrows and a starburst of pleasure burning low in his belly.

After a moment, Lance separates their mouths with a humid pant against Keith’s lips for air, but he dazedly pulls Lance back down with another groan, a part of him going absolutely wild when Lance responds with a whimper caught in the back of his throat. His mouth is hot and wet, opening easily to Keith, welcoming the attention, drowning in it, the pliant lines of his body begging for it.

Mindful of the hard plating of his paladin armor, Keith rolls them to settle his weight over Lance, hips resting in the cradle of his thighs, and that’s when he loses himself. For a long while, they lay there tangled up on the metal floor, kissing like they’ll never get another chance. Lance’s arms end up around Keith’s neck, hands buried in his hair as he lets Keith ravish him into a drunken mess of unsteady heartbeats and sweet little gasps of pleasure.

Once he feels mostly satisfied, Keith pulls back slightly, only enough to admire the way Lance’s eyes flutter open, low-lidded and dark, parted mouth shiny and red and perfect. He’s gorgeous all the time, but there’s something especially wonderful about a Lance that is looking up at him with a greedy sort of expression, like he can’t stand the space between them and is thinking about asking for less of it.

“You’re late,” Lance murmurs breathlessly, thighs bracketing Keith’s hips firmly in an attempt to keep him close.

Keith runs his gloved hand through the wild ends of Lance’s hair with as much gentleness he can before curling his fingers and kissing the delicate line of Lance’s eyebrow. “Sorry,” he says softly.

“Your comm went out.”

“There was a storm on my way back.”

“You can’t do that to me.” Lance’s expression clouds over and there’s a crack in his voice. “You can’t—you can’t—“

Keith leans down and kisses him quiet for a long, sweet moment. Lance slides his hands from Keith’s hair down the curve of the armor on his chest and then down to his waist with a sigh, holding him there as though to steady himself. Keith separates after he’s sure he’s eliminated that fragile thing in Lance’s voice, nosing his way down to then kiss his jaw.

“How was your assignment?” Keith asks against his skin.

“Sucked,” Lance whispers into the ridge of Keith’s eyebrow. “Missed you, Keith.”

Keith kisses up to his ear. “You came back safe.”

“Had to. I promised.”

That makes Keith warm on the inside. He leans back to smile down at Lance. “Thank you.”

Lance responds by sticking out his tongue. “Maybe you should take a page out of my book.”

Keith scoffs and reaches down, inching his gloved hand under Lance’s T-shirt, wishing that it was bare so that he could feel the the heat of his skin against his palm. “I came back safe, too.”

He’s rewarded with narrowed eyes and a shiver from the gentle touches on his rib cage. “Babe, you were late. I lost, like, ten years of my life tonight waiting on you to show up. You’re just lucky you did, or I’d have to kick your—ah.” His eyes flutter as Keith runs the hand back down his side, and dips his fingers just barely beneath the waistband of his pants, shifting the weight of his hips. Lance tilts his head back, arching into the touch, and Keith can’t help himself when he leans down and opens his mouth against the delicious skin of Lance’s throat.

“I’m always gonna come back to you, Lance,” Keith tells him. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know,” Lance says, breath heavy as he smiles. “You still gotta make an honest man out of me.”

Keith chuckles and presses one last kiss into his skin before pulling away and sitting back on his knees. “Who said I was ever gonna do that?”

Lance props himself up on his elbows and he looks—Jesus, he’s cute. His hair is mussed, mouth still bright, bitten-red, eyes glittering with equal parts mirth and exaggerated outrage. His shirt has been pushed up, exposing a pretty stretch of a lean, brown stomach, his legs parted obscenely wide and open on either side of Keith. He wants to lean back in and press Lance into the floor, the hunger and the heat low in his belly wild with desire.

“I know you wanna marry me, Keith,” Lance accuses playfully, pointing a finger in Keith’s direction, eyebrows sharp over his pretty blue eyes. “Someday, I’ll get you to admit to it. Mark my words.”

Keith flashes him a toothy grin, thinking about Cuba, about Lance’s family, about that one little question. He thinks that Lance says that stuff to tease him, says it because he knows that they’re in love and it’s the real kind, the forever kind. Thinks that Lance doesn’t really expect it to happen any time soon. They’re still young, but Keith already knows he’s never going to want anyone else. It’s always been Lance, it always will be Lance, from the first to the last.

A blush rises into the crest of Lance’s cheeks as he pulls his hand back and then pushes up into a sitting position. He reaches towards Keith and cups his face in his hands, squishing his cheeks. “Stop looking at me like that, Kogane, my poor heart can’t take it.”

Keith can feel how soft he is, how Lance’s flustered little statement only makes him softer. He circles Lance’s wrists with his fingers and pulls his hands away so that he can kiss Lance’s palms reverently.

Lance stares and groans, cheeks growing more ruddy by the second. “Babyyyy.”

“I need to report in to Shiro,” Keith whispers, kissing up Lance’s arm slowly as he leans in. “And then I need to get something to eat.” His mouth presses just above the crook of Lance’s elbow. “And get out of this armor.” Lance’s bicep. “And take a shower.” His shoulder. “And then,” —his throat— “I think we should go to bed.”

Lance drops his head to the side and shudders through a breathless laugh, basking in the attention. “I’ll do anything you want if it means me getting up off this floor.”

“You attacked me.” Keith kisses his cheek.

“Maybe, but you flattened me like a steam roller when you flipped us over.” Kisses Lance’s lovely mouth, watches as Lance’s eyes flutter again when he lingers.

“You weren’t complaining.” Keith draws back slightly and smirks.

Lance grins crookedly. “No, I really, really wasn’t.”

Keith laughs at that and then finally makes it back to his feet, pulling Lance up after him. Immediately, because he can’t help himself, he leans in for another kiss, and then another, a little zip of pleasure lighting up his spine when Lance leans into him and makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“I have a question to ask you,” Keith whispers between their mouths.

Lance hums, half-gone. “Lay it on me, pretty boy.”

Keith, distantly, thinks about Cuba, thinks about Lance’s family. Thinks about the war, and how close they are to the end and how he wants to do this the right way, because that’s what Lance deserves. He cups Lance’s face and kisses him with a little more pressure. “It can wait.”

He meets no resistance. “Okay.” A sigh, sweet and light. “Okay.”

Maybe they stand there kissing for another ten minutes before Lance is finally able to break the spell and drag Keith out the hangar by the hand, flushed and starry-eyed, scolding him for being so damn insatiable.

Maybe that had been a part of Keith’s plan, too.

[calliecosplay]

Hi everyone. Thank you so much for your unending love, support, & help with everything during this difficult time. Thank you for believing in me & helping me believe in myself so that I can continue to push through these obstacles we're dealing with. Something bad happened & I'm so saddened to ask for immediate help right now. This is an absolute emergency. I was bitten by our pet dog. He may have rabies. Animal control took him today to observe him and his aggressive behavior. My hand is looking awful & I can’t write or play my clarinet, but I’m used to pain anyway with EDS, IC, & endo…so I’m fine. I’m more emotionally hurt for many reasons. I’m very upset & heartbroken that Aaland would hurt me, but he has been aggressive towards me ever since I came home from the hospital after the miscarriage. I’m devastated that this would happen. More importantly, I regret to say this has caused a massive divide in my relationship with the man I was planning to marry and spend the rest of my life with. It’s crazy to think that I’d be pregnant with our child now. Anyway, he has changed significantly in how he treats me. He is blaming me for everything & asking me to leave on a plane back to Florida. I’m so devastated that I cannot comprehend what has happened. More details on how I was bitten below. But yeah, like, I never once thought for an instant that my safety & health would mean so little to the man who I truly believed loved me & had me as his top priority (under himself). I’m stunned. If something like this happened & Oaklynn attacked him viciously & wounded him, there would be absolutely no question or doubt in my mind on what to do. Adam means more to me than Oaklynn. He means the world to me & I would do anything for him. I love him with all of my heart & he’s given me a happiness & joy that I never even knew existed. He has helped with my health so much. He’s truly saved my life. It’s disgusting and so cruel to my heart to come to the realization this week that I don’t mean more to Adam than Aaland (dog), & while I’ve tried to point this out to him, it’s always an argument about how that isn’t true but I am, according to him, the only person he loves more than the dog. He told me if a gun was up to his dad’s head, he would still pick the dog. I told him families stay by each other and support each other. I was significantly wounded, & I am terrified & afraid of Aaland now that he’s bitten me. I love him so much & I don’t want anything to happen to him. Training so he doesn’t bite. He is a wonderful, sweet dog. He’s unfixed & jealous of me & Oaklynn, which has drawn out the aggressive episodes. When Adam saw what happened, he freaked out & was devastated Aaland would hurt me & Adam stepped in to defend me. But now, he is blaming me for everything, saying this is what I wanted, blah, blah. It’s so heart wrenching & unbelievable. I felt safe up here in South Dakota, in a home that Adam & I had made together with our furbabies. I feel like the family has been divided & that Adam refuses to even listen to my feelings or consider my health & wellbeing. He says I did this. But, I don’t understand & my heart hurts so much. I couldn’t have even imagined anything like this happened. Adam told me to let him punish him bc the dog has been abused in the past & gets mean & aggressive. I didn’t listen to him this time & I took a much safer & nicer approach for punishing that I learned from a dog trainer (this is when Aaland attacked my right hand/wrist). Adam has been telling me all week that I’m overreacting & way overexaggerating the bite. Well, several police officers (women & men) & animal control said no, I’m not. It’s a deeply bruised wound in my hand with multiple possible dislocations due to my EDS. There are like 8-12 puncture wounds. I felt so relieved & validated because Adam made me feel so horrible & like I was lying to get attention from the dog bite and milk how bad it was, when I just wanted him to look at it, acknowledge it, & try to understand why I’m scared. So it is a serious bite, confirmed by police & animal control. Adam cannot even admit that and say that to my face. He has said that I’m outta here & on a plane to Florida soon though. SO YEAH, I’m freaking out a bit. A lot. But really….I’m sorry. I love animals, but there is no question. Straight up human lives matter more than animals. My mobility has taken decreased significantly, causing me to have a number of problems, from getting out of bed to walk to the bathroom, to opening my medicine bottles & carrying around my basket of meds. I’ve fallen repeatedly over & over & over again the past week, as well as falling down the stairs multiple times, which Aaland actually liked my face to wake me up from that. Aaland is a good dog, loves me, & I love him. He just has really bad aggressive episodes targeted towards me & poor Oaklynn. I don’t know why. After all of this stress, my EDS has reached what has now become the worst & most dangerous levels I’ve yet to face with this progressive, debilitating disease. My knees are pictured after the dislocations & consecutive falls due to my EDS. They are now bruised over, much darker & purple. I need immediate help with my health & finances. It’s also reaching end of month, when my (roughly) $500 Cobra health insurance bill is due. Disability is taking so long, which is why I’m prompted to come here for help. There’s a set goal on here for a reason, & we need help reaching it. I would not be posting about this if it wasn’t an absolute emergency. This is having a detrimental effect on my physical & mental health. I am terrified & I’m struggling to not lose it. I don’t even know if I have a home now. I don’t know if I’m staying in South Dakota or flying back to Florida tomorrow. IDK. The panic attacks are never ending. If you are able, please help. Whether it’s by sharing, keeping up to date, or donating. ~ There are digital bundles of my artwork in Callie's Closet (since I cannot currently [physically] complete print orders and ship them out or ship out Patreon Rewards due to my health). These digital bundles & digital print sets on Patreon are 100% going towards my medical funds as donations. I wanted to offer an option for ya'll to receive some of my artwork digitally by contributing as opposed to donating & supporting that way only. Go here: https://calliescloset.storenvy.com/ ~ You can also contribute by donating to my PayPal & (be sure to use the friends/family option since I consider ya'll & all of my followers fellow geeky friends anyway). I have 2 emails: calliecosplay@gmail.com OR calliecosplay@hotmail.com. ~ Here's my linktree where you can find all my other links and such. ^.^ https://linktr.ee/calliecosplay

[wellthatwasaletdown]

irving embezzling money from axl rose’s tour and sabotaging his efforts of becoming solo so he could make more money at guns n roses even though they’d been friends since the 80s says a lot about azoffs. and in a way it opens uo a big can of worms. i’ve bitten my tongue long enough so here goes my long opinion i’m sure a lot of people actuallh probably asked for. i know i get anons about it all the time i’m too scared to ever answer.

Azoffs are known for being ruthless, not loyal and compassionate. they’re also known for being liars. irving lied in congress’s face about how his merging with ticketmaster would bring more jobs, when he fires hundreds just so he could get a bonus. and let’s not forget a great irving quote. that he’d rather be a smart-ass than intelligent. and jeff saying his metric for success is to just exist. there’s just nothing…. good about these people. they’re childish and keen on revenge and they’re just like simon cowell. it’s known that when you reach the penthouse of the corporate ladder you’re faced with pure psycopaths. those are the people who put harry in a family portrait on a wall. seeing how much money they expected from harry, it’s obvious that was just pure manipulation. how can anyone think highly of people like that?

that’s not in the business books. they’re not business people. no one at that level is. they made it to the top through a series of connections and deals between each other when they were just rookies on a brand new business field. which worked for a while. but it’s temporary. there reaches a point where their empires crumble at an age when they’re too old to know how to fix and to a severity they can never repair. it’s what happened to simon cowell. now it’s happening to irving. although really it’s been happening for years. i’m not convinced he is actually as powerful as the articles in magazines he has connections with say, just like i don’t believe when they call harry a legend or thar two ghosts didn’t flop. i think irving’s been losing money for years. fleetwood mac’s agent will have a hard time finding his place in the era of tropical house music and kardashian lovers. i don’t think it will take much to push this man to bankrupcy except a little push. so uh… congrats to harry on making that connection? don’t think so. half the reason he jumped to claim harry so quickly is because he’s desperate for cash. the baby jagger/bowie of 2017? come on, who asked for that? irving’s blinded by his own desire to relive his glory days. which are obviously very very very very very far behind him. 

i’m sure irving could get away with lying and stealing his way to the top in the 70s, but holding a monopoly on magazines and websites no one reads anymore doesn’t work. you can’t censor social media. back in the 70s and 80s there was only magazines and articles to get information. if you were a legend there people would buy it. not anymore. irving’s entire star-studded client list have flopped, because the “most powerful man in the industry” is an obsolete tired old man, whose prodigy is as talentless as he is. they’re not wise. his business advice is laughable and founded on pure ego. it shows with how solo harry was born. it’s no surprise jeff has been there since 2013.

i think irving pitched an idea for a more rock justin timberlake out of 1d and convinced sony 1d would crumble just like “every other boyband” even though they proved they were so much better. that proves irving’s oh-so great and wise advice there. not only was he stupid enough to think harry was a golden goose, but the solo career they planned since 2013 for harry was a complete and absolute failure. they literally had to bring back the image syco crafted in 2011.

except no one wants to stan harry again. it’s kind of like when someone cheats on you. we’ve seen a side of him that is greedy, manipulative, narcissistic, and disloyal. it’s over.

irving didn’t sign up to manage a boybander, which is the only way he can make up the money lost on harry: bring back 1d harry and make him sing tropical house music and collab with the likes of calvin harris and charlie puth. nah. irving wanted a rockstar. only indie collabs, only rock magazines, only womanizer-fueling gigs, only edgelord pr girlfriends. the fact there’s even damage control seems reluctant. because we’re still seeing that back and forth between 1d harry and rockstar harry. irving looks like the type who would blame the consumer and not the product.

i guess right now it’s a question of how well he takes to failure, and that failure landing on his shoulders since everyone in the industry knows jeff is an idiot constantly asking his dad for advice. he’s the fruit of the irving tree. judging by how badly the entire family takes to simple rejection, i take it a straight up failure that cost millions and made him a laughingstock if sony wasn’t too busy scolding them will hurt even more. it’s one thing for acts you’re funding yourself to flop. but when you get the entire industry to back an artist you assured them would make them all very rich people, that’s a lot of trouble you’re in. and when you’re the most powerful man in the industry(according to a list written by a magazine you partially own) then you’re probably… not taking well to failure. the fact we no longer see harry getting cuddly with jeff and that painfully awkward picture from iheart where harry is blatantlt leaning away from jeff, the trouble in paradise is already evident.

you need to understand that azoffs are just not clever people, none of these legendary businessmen from the 70s are. shelli azoff through a violent fit because she couldn’t get through copyrighr to play the movie sex tape, which got horrible ratings and bombed. that’s how well these people know how to spot talent. corporate ceo’s spot money. the old men of sony spotted the 1d money, and they spotted harry. they, in classic senior citizen fashion, believed harry was the justin timberlake of 1d. they thought his fans were stupid and uneducated teenage girls. irving, desperate loser with everything at stake, specifically called dibs and was conceited enough to think anyone would give a shit about 70s rock in 2017, and ta-da! throw in the millions for that debut, because these old men know best!

that’s it. that was the mentality that birthed holo. old people who can’t accept that their empires built on lies are crumbling and that their wisdom is worth shit in an age where people like us are airing these men’s dirty laundry and educating ourselves with business practices. we’re very smart consumers. and very cynical ones too.

so irving can keep pouring out money for good reviews and grammy’s. but there’s no money to be made from it. when meghan trainor’s two grammy’s went to waste because her insensitive comments about anorexia lost her the support of the gp forever, she was dropped. her career is no longer a priority because the following singles she put out couldn’t make up for the money spent on her. and keep in mind all about that bass was a much bigger hit than sott.

these people want big money at a fraction of the cost. 1d was sony’s dream. they paid almost nothing on their promotion and exploited them to the bone and made billions off them. they thought that if they put big money into harry, they’d get triple that back and kill two birds with one stone: replace adele once she goes back on her 5 year hiatus, and replace 1d too. that’s not happening any time soon.

harry’s career needs a complete overhaul. irving’s entire rockstar plan needs to be thrown away and there will be no more male adele aspirations. they would need to win back the entire 1d fandom’s trust and undo the damage they themselves did to harry’s brand and accept he will be making ¼ of 1d’s money and probably not be doing as well as the other boys. not only is that a big blow the egos of all the men bragging and laughing about all the money harry was going to make them, but it’s a big blow to their wallets too. 

i’m convinced karma will come for these people just like it did for simon cowell. harry had his greedy little hand in the pot, too, so karma will come for him as we. for lying to the boys for over 4 years, for separating himself so he could get attention, for agreeing to manipulate his fans in every way for money and fame.

so i don’t think they’ll do what needs to be done to save harry’s career. i think this will end as badly for harry as it is for the investors who are not getting what they were promised as early as 2013. i think they’re angry and they’ll let out that anger on someone. either harry or irving, but my guess is irving, who took the baby jagger project so seriously and personally expecting to get all the credit and not all the blame. that’s a lot of blame for a very tempermental loser. i think the nicest thing irving could do to harry is lower his budget to whatever they can afford and keep his music career going. the worst thing they can do is blacklist him and make sure he loses as much money as irving did.

i can’t decide if i should end this with “it’s the sign of the times” or “just how fast the night changes”. either way i’m no longer emotionally attached to harry to do anything except grab my popcorn and watch this swerving car head closer and closer towards the edge of a cliff.

[ernmark]

any chance we could get some ot3 or arum/damien or arum/rilla cuddles? maybe physical contact isnt really a thing for monsters, or maybe bc he is a lord he never gets a chance to be casually intimate with people, or maybe he is too isolated from society for some reason. whatever the reason, i would love to see an arum who is not used to that kind of physical affection and when damien and/or rilla find out, they just give him so many cuddles and arum just loves it. ❤❤❤❤

For the record, the setup was supposed to be one sentence long. The fic itself was supposed to be, like, five hundred words, tops.

When Sir Angelo brings Damien to Rilla’s hut, she’s not sure exactly what to make of it.

“Rilla!” he practically sings, lurching toward her on unsteady feet. “My love, my forever flower, my–” He doesn’t get far before he loses his balance heads straight for the ground, and Sir Angelo has to grab him by the shoulders and physically set him in a chair.

If Rilla didn’t know better, she’d guess that Damien is drunk.

But Rilla does know better. Damien isn’t exactly the drunken revelry type.

“How long has he been like this?” she asks.

“A few hours,” Sir Angelo says. “Honestly, I thought he would be fine by now, but it seems he isn’t improving. Really, Sir Damien, this isn’t like you!”

“No, it isn’t,” she agrees, pulling the torn cloth from his shirt to reveal an amateurly administered bandage. “What’s this?”

“That? Just a flesh wound,” Sir Angelo says, clapping Damien on the back hard enough to make him topple again. “This morning the Queen sent him to investigate some kind of monstrous dog, and it tried to take a bite out of him. But no matter: the beast is slain!”

“This morning, you said?” Rilla unwinds the bandage. Sir Angelo is right– for the most part, the bite isn’t all that deep. It’s even been treated with a garlic salve to ward off infection. “Look here– two of these punctures are deeper than the others.”

“Well, that’s because of the teeth, you see,” Sir Angelo says. “Dogs have some teeth that are longer than the others–”

She tries not to roll her eyes. Priorities. “Not this much longer,” she says. “This looks more like something you’d find on a snake. And see the discoloration in the wound here? It didn’t just bite him, it injected something into him.”

“The fiend!”

“Sir Angelo, do you know what happened to the dog’s body? If I can harvest its venom sacs, then I should be able to put together an antivenom.”

Sir Angelo’s chest swells at the prospect of another quest. “Then I will retrieve it presently.”

“Hurry.” A note of worry slips into her voice. “The sooner I can treat him, the better.”

“Then there’s no time to waste! Don’t you worry, Rilla. I’ll have that scoundrel back to you before–”

He’s out the door and Rilla has officially stopped listening. She’s in her garden, activating the modified shriekweed that’s made its home there. She and Arum planted a whole network of them between her hut and the swamp; with any luck, he’ll be around to hear it. The signal is meant to be strictly for emergencies, but… well, this might be.

Antivenom should be administered within minutes, if not seconds. Damien’s been poisoned for hours; there’s no telling what the toxin might have done to him in that time. He’s still slumped across the chair where Sir Angelo left him, mumbling out incoherent declarations of love to the empty air. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that this is affecting his brain. What other side effects is she not seeing? How deep does the damage go? How permanent is it?

She doesn’t have time to worry about those things. Right now she has to focus on stopping the toxin’s progression. She mutters to herself as her hands fly over the rows of jars.

“Sea buckthorn, tumeric, coffee senna…”

“Oh,” Damien slurs, rising from his chair. “I know where that one is…”

She turns. “Damien, wait–”

It’s too late. He grabbed the senna, all right, but it slips from his fingers and smashes on the floor. He staggers, frowning. “Oh… Oh, my Rilla, I’m so sorry…”

“Damien, no.” She pulls him away before he can stumble into the shards of broken pottery. “No, it’s alright. It’s not your fault. But I’m going to need you to sit still and let me handle this.”

To his credit, he does try. He sincerely wants to be helpful. Unfortunately, it only takes a few minutes to remember to stay still, and he gets up and tries groping around among the herbs again. Rilla is in the middle of wrestling a jar of datura out of his hands when the door opens.

“Rilla?” Arum’s voice sinks into a hiss. “What–”

“Just help me grab him!” Rilla snaps.

Arum doesn’t need to be told twice. In a movement so fast she can barely catch it, he’s across the hut. Two of his hands restrain Damien’s wrists; the other two are around his waist, trapping him against Arum’s chest while Rilla grabs the datura out of his hands.

Damien seems to have forgotten about the jar. He stares up at Arum, his face flushed and his eyes wide.

“L-Lord Arum!” He sounds scandalized. Probably for good reason, too: this is the most physical contact the two of them have shared since all those ridiculous duels.

One of Arum’s brow ridges rises quizzically. “This is new.”

“That’s what I needed your help with.” Rilla heaves a sigh and shoves the datura into a drawer where Damien probably can’t get to it. “He got bitten by some kind of dog, and now he’s like… this.”

“A dog,” Arum repeats, adjusting his grip to to free one of his hands. His claws carefully lift the bandage on Damien’s shoulder. “A boozehound.” He rattles irritably. “Of course.”

“Sir Angelo says he was bitten hours ago,” Rilla says quietly. She doesn’t put her fears into words– but with Arum, she doesn’t need to.

“It should wear off on its own within a week,” Arum says. “The venom is hardly dangerous. The victims, on the other hand, can be… difficult.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate, either. Damien’s a Knight of the Queen; he’s stronger than he looks, and if he can pull together enough coordination to actually land a hit, he’ll be dangerous. There’s no chance that he’d ever hurt Rilla– or anyone else– on purpose, but he’s almost poisoned himself once already just trying to be helpful. “Is there any way to get it out of his system faster?”

“There’s a formula that should work,” Arum says. “But you’ll need some of the boozehound’s fur.”

Of course we will.

Rilla doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead she moves on to the important matters. “Sir Angelo’s going to be back soon with its body. What else?”

Arum gives her the rest of the ingredients. Most of them she has on hand, but there are a few that will need to be gathered.

“I can retrieve them while you work,” Arum offers, but Rilla shakes her head.

“It looks like you’re having better luck keeping him under control than I was. If you can hold onto him, I can grab the last of them and be back in an hour.”

Arum agrees to it– but then, he really doesn’t have much of a choice, does he?

She won’t deny she feels a little bad for calling Arum all the way here just to babysit Damien. He doesn’t seem upset about the favor or anything, but… well, it’s him. This relationship between the three of them has been going on for a while now, but there’s still a lot of distance between the two of them and Arum. He stops by for conversation sometimes, but even that tends to happen while he’s lounging in a tree or standing at the other end of the hut. It seems he only ever really gets as close as arm’s length when he and Rilla are looking at the same specimens together, and only ever for a few minutes at a time.

Damien’s thinks that it’s because he’s a lord, and he’s still entitled to a certain degree of decorum. Rilla’s always assumed that he’s just more sensitive about his personal space. Some people just don’t like to be touched.

She appreciates that he’s willing to take a bit of discomfort over this, though. She can’t exactly take Damien with her in this condition, and there’s no telling how much trouble he’d get into before Sir Angelo gets back. She makes her way through the jungle as fast as she safely can, just so he doesn’t have to deal with it any longer than absolutely necessary.

She first spots them through the window: Arum is sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. Damien is nestled comfortably on top of him, half in his lap and half half draped across his chest. He’s got one of Arum’s hands clutched in his arms and he’s petting it like it’s a very needy house cat.

And maybe she was wrong about that personal space thing, because Arum doesn’t look put out or uncomfortable right now.  His three free arms are wrapped around Damien, not to restrain him, but to keep him close. His expression is warm, even tender, and he dips his head to nuzzle Damien’s hair.

Rilla’s pretty sure it’s the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. It’s definitely the most adorable thing she’s ever seen Arum do.

Maybe it’s a little bit distracting. Maybe more than a little bit. Because the next thing she knows, she’s stubbed a toe on the fence post of her garden.

“Shit,” she yelps, pulling her foot back from the offending block of wood.

In the window, Arum freezes like he’s been caught. Discreetly he straightens his spine and rearranges his arms around Damien so they’re less cozy and more neutral. He tries briefly to retrieve the hand in Damien’s grip, but Damien won’t let go. For a moment Arum’s expression is exasperated– then fond.

That’s an interesting reaction.

He’s still stiff and neutral when she makes her way through the door.

“I’m back,” she announces unnecessarily. “I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble?”

“I kept him away from the nightshade,” Arum says.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that– and I think he will, too, once he knows better.” She sets her basket of herbs on her worktable and tests her first hypothesis: “Should I let you put it all together?”

“…No.” She doesn’t miss his hesitation. “The process isn’t a particularly sensitive one. Besides, I don’t want to give him any incentive to try being helpful again.” His arms tighten around Damien.

Rilla has half a mind to jot that down. When given the opportunity to disengage, he insists on maintaining physical contact.

Sir Angelo doesn’t come inside when he delivers the body of the dog beast, but Arum tenses at his approach. That makes sense– he doesn’t exactly get along with Angelo, after all– but she notes the way he tries to distance himself from Damien again.

Behaviors suggest he doesn’t like being observed showing physical affection. Possibly he sees it as a show of vulnerability? Results are inconclusive.

With the hair of the dog and Arum’s instructions, she finishes the antidote in good time. Normally she’d have Arum sit Damien in a chair or something to drink it, but that would waste an opportunity. 

“Can you hold him still?” she asks, and kneels at Arum’s side, close enough that her knees press against his thigh. She leans over him to get the vial into Damien’s hand and guide it to his mouth– and all the while she watches Arum from the corner of her eye. He shifts to accommodate her without reluctance. When her precarious position leaves her wobbling, he sets a hand on the small of her back to steady her.

There are no obvious signs of discomfort or aversion when I touch him, which suggests that his receptiveness to physical contact isn’t exclusive to Damien.

Maybe it’s unscientific of her, but that comes as a relief.

It only takes a few minutes for the antidote to do its work, and even less than that for Damien to realize where he’s sitting.

He finally lets go of the captured hand with a horrified yelp.

“Lord Arum– Rilla– I’m– I’m so sorry– I don’t know what came over me.” He scrambles backward off Arum’s lap, his face dark with a blush.

“It’s fine,” Arum says patiently while Rilla moves in to calm Damien down. “Think nothing of it.”

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on her part, but he seems a little bit sad to let Damien go.

Rilla pays closer attention to Arum after that. He still stays aloof, but she starts noticing little things she missed before– the way he leans closer when one of them is nearby; the way he watches her and Damien when they’re together.

It’s more and more evidence in support of her hypothesis, but it still isn’t conclusive.

“Rilla, what if I’ve caused an international incident?” Damien cries frantically. “What if I’ve started a war?”

Okay, so maybe the Queen should have picked someone else to guard the visiting princess. But Damien’s got a reputation as the tied-for-greatest knight in the Citadel, and he’s a whole lot less likely than Angelo to put his foot in his mouth.

Rilla takes him by the shoulders. “Damien, you’re not going to start a war. You just introduced yourself. That’s perfectly fine.”

“Maybe so far, but there’s still a week left of her highness’s stay. And what if I say something wrong? What if I misspeak? What if I’m too familiar? What if I come across as too distant?”

“Damien, breathe,” Rilla commands. Behind Damien’s back, she signals for Arum to help her out.

He hesitates. This isn’t the first of Damien’s panic attacks that he’s witnessed, but it’s by far the worst one.

“You’re a knight, not a politician,” he adds after a pause. “The princess and her entourage already know to make certain allowances.”

This shouldn’t be the time for another experiment, but Rilla makes a go at it anyway. She steps to one side, making room for Arum without taking her hand off Damien. 

Whether it’s conscious or not, he takes the cue to inch closer. Gingerly he sets his hand on Damien’s shoulder, mirroring hers.

“But what if–”

He gives Damien’s shoulder a squeeze, just hard enough that Damien will be able to feel claws through his shirt. “If your Queen is as competent as you say, then there no mistakes you could make that she cannot mend.” The pressure eases and his claws lay flat on Damien’s shoulder. A second arm slides down the length of Damien’s back and up again.

Usually Rilla has to come up with some kind of distraction to keep Damien from slipping back into a panic, but this time she doesn’t need to. Sharing this much contact with Arum is rare enough that it’s a distraction all on its own.

Damien’s eyes are on Arum, and so Rilla lets hers flick to him, too. He looks intent and solid, with no sign of discomfort even when Rilla sets her free hand on his upper shoulder. If anything, he leans into the touch.

The thing about science is that there’s only a certain degree of certainty. Run enough experiments and you can be pretty confident about what you’re going to get, but there’s still a chance that you missed something important. Especially when the science you’re dealing with has less to do with things like plants and chemistry and more to do with things as complicated as feelings and boundaries.

Which is why, when she tells Damien about her experiments, he suggests the final test.

Damien has to take a moment to gather his courage before he approaches Arum. Even after months of being in this relationship, he’s still fighting the fear that he’ll be rejected– and in this case, when that fear feels especially well-founded, it takes even more will to go through with it. But he is a knight right down to the bone.

Rilla bites her lip, overwhelmed by a surge of fondness, but she keeps her mouth shut and continues making the tea.

“A-Arum?” His tongue stumbles a little; he’s still getting used to talking to Arum without formal address. “May I sit with you?”

It’s such a simple thing that Arum looks a little bit concerned. “I… don’t see why not?” he hedges.

There are plenty of places to sit in the little hut, but Damien settles right next to him, so close their legs are pressed together. Tentatively he leans his head against Arum’s shoulder. “Is… is this alright?”

For an awkward, silent moment, Arum stares at Damien in complete incomprehension. Then he glances at Rilla, who continues making the tea and pretends she hasn’t been watching all of this through the reflection in the window. Finally he comes to a decision.

“Yes,” he says at last, and drapes an arm around Damien’s shoulders.

Satisfied, Rilla takes the tea off the fire and strains it into three cups. She brings two of them to Arum and Damien before ducking back into the kitchen and returning with one of her own. “Mind if I join you?”

Arum raises a brow ridge suspiciously, but he nods. When Rilla sits on his other side, he no longer looks surprised, just very confused. He keeps glancing from one to the other, as if there’s some connection he should be making.

Just like with Damien, there’s a moment of indecision, and then another arm settles around her waist, careful not to tug on her hair.

[sakyou]

Diabolik Lovers Dark Fate: Sakamaki Shuu (Maniac Epilogue)

--When I woke up, I was place similar to a prison.

Holding my aching head I got up. Beside me was Shuu-san. To start with I was relieved.

He was covered in injuries, and he seemed to have fainted but for the time being we hadn’t been separated. 

However, there was no sign of Lilie anywhere.

-

(Lilie...don’t tell me, because of that...)

Yui: ...Lilie...

Shuu: ....nn.....

Yui: ! Shuu-sa....

Shuu: I was wondering who was crying....so it was you

Yui: Shuu-san....?

Shuu: Why.....are you crying?

Yui: Sorry.....but Lilie....and Shuu-san, you were both so badly hurt....

Shuu: Is the cat....not here

Yui: It’s nowhere to be found...

Shuu: ....even if I have to sacrifice myself, if I can protect.....my family then...

Shuu: It....really did think of you as family. That’s why it tried to protect you....

Shuu: ...but in comparison I....

Yui: Shuu-san....do you think the little one is dead...

Shuu: ...don’t cry

Shuu: I don’t really care when others scream or cry but....if you cry then i’m troubled

Yui: ....i’m sorry....

(This certainly isn’t the time to be crying. I’m well aware of that but...)

Shuu: ....my bad

Yui: Eh-...

Shuu: You, and the cat. I was supposed to protect you both

Shuu: That’s how it’s supposed to be...I’m disgusted at myself

Yui: That’s.....but Shuu-san, you were trying to protect me...

Shuu: There’s no point in just trying....if I can’t protect you, it’s meaningless

Shuu: It’s too late i’ve lost it. I know just how much I hate such things but...

Shuu: I did it....again

(Shuu-san....)

Shuu: ...your hand is injured. Is that from when the founders brushed you off?

Yui: Ah, yes....but i’m fine with this much. that aside Shuu-san is...

Shuu: It doesn’t matter about me. You’re my woman that’s why i’m worried

Shuu: Nn....

Yui: ....Shuu-san...?

Shuu: Does it hurt?

Yui: I’m fine now. The bleeding has also stopped....

Shuu: ...up until now i’ve bitten into this body harshly, still you’ve been hurt a lot 

Shuu: For you to be injured, i’m irritated right now

Shuu: At those that hurt you, and myself who couldn’t protect you

Shuu: ....sorry. I couldn’t protect you

Yui: That’s.....don’t apologise. As long as Shuu-san is alright, i’m fine

Shuu: I’m sure it....Lilie is still alive

Shuu: Because those that have that name are brash and incredibly stubborn

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: That’s why....it’ll be okay. If we believe in it and wait it’ll definitely come back

Yui: ...yes

Shuu: ...Nn....

Shuu: ...ah, speaking of which, I won’t be able to express it with this alone

Yui: Eh?

Shuu: You want it in words more than actions right?

Shuu: ...I vow, to never subject you to something like this ever again.

Yui: Shuu-san....

Shuu: To only see your crying face when I drink your blood...is more than enough

(For Shuu-san to be this direct with his words...)

(Shuu-san conveying his feelings straightforward....i’m really happy)

(...but, right now I can’t just be happy can I)

Shuu: .....dammit...it still hurts

Yui: You shouldn’t push yourself trying to get up...

Shuu: I wish I could relax but the one those guys are after you

Yui: ....I wonder why me?

Shuu: Who knows. maybe it’s to do with your blood again....well, there’s no point in us guessing here

Shuu: I just know one thing....those guys are planning something troublesome

Yui: What do you mean?

Shuu: If you’re the only one they’re after then, why am I still alive? Even though all I do is get in their way...it’s weird right?

Shuu: I wonder what they’re planning...?

???: Our bad for having a reputation of scheming

Yui: Shin-kun...

(Since Carla-san was one Shin-san must also be a first blood....founder right)

Shuu: Yui, don’t leave my side

Shin: *laughs* ....no need to be so alarmed

Shin: I came here to let you guys out see

Shuu: What....?

Shin: Here, go ahead. You can come out

Shuu: ...what’s the meaning of this

Shin: I don’t know. But nii-san said to do this

Yui: Carla-san...?

(I’m sure Carla-san was also the one who imprisoned us. So why....)

Shin: Come on, hurry up. I was told to show you to the guest room

Shin: I really don’t know what nii-san is thinking

Shuu: ....Yui. For now don’t leave my side

Shuu: I don’t really understand what those guys are planning but...i’m sure it can’t be good

Yui: ....yes

-

Shin: Here. This is the guest room

Shin: It would’ve taken time to arrange separate rooms, not that you really mind having the same room do you? You two have that kind of relationship right?

Shuu: ....are you saying you don’t plan on treating us as prisoners?

Shin: Who knows? That all depends on nii-san

Shuu: ...

Shin: Are you thinking about....places you can escape?

Shin: I’ll tell you this, it’s pointless. This is the depths of the demon realm 

Shin: You can tell by looking out the window can’t you, it’s far too high for a human woman to jump down

Shin: It’s a vampire they probably could but...with those injuries if you tried your hardest you could take yourself

Shin: Well, if you left the girl behind you could escape by yourself. What will you do?

Shuu: ...Quit it with the unfunny jokes. It’s irritating

Shin: *Laughs* I thought you would say that. Well then if you two get along, and stay locked up here everything will be fine

Shin: After all sooner or later-

Carla: You’re talking too much, Shin

Shin: Ah nii-san. Sorry sorry. I was just having fun 

Carla: Have you forgotten about my orders?

Shin: Not at all. After i’ve shown the prisoners to the guest room, bring Sakamaki Shuu right

Carla: If you remember then hurry on with it

Shin: Ah. Isn’t it your fault nii-san got mad

Shuu: Don’t blame others for it.....i’m fine going wherever

Shin: Oh you’re being surprisingly obedient. That kind of thing isn’t bad.

Shin: Nii-san is waiting in the hall. I’ll show you the way

Yui: ....please wait! Is it just Shuu-san?

(Perhaps, he really might be killed this time, yet to go on his own...)

Shin: The one nii-san called for right now isn’t you

Shuu: It’ll be alright, Yui

Yui: But, Shuu-san....!

Shuu: You wait here.....don’t worry, i’ll be back soon

Yui: ....do you promise?

Shuu: Yeah, I promise. So trust me and wait here

Yui: ...I understand

Shin: Alright alright. Leave the flirting for later and hurry up. Could you not leave nii-san waiting too long?

Shuu: then i’ll be going

(Shuu-san....)

-

Shin: Nii-san, sorry for making you wait. I brought him

Carla: Come in

Shuu: ....I came as you wanted. What do you want with me

Carla: Do you not understand that I called you out here intentionally?

Shuu: It’s because I understand that i’m asking you

Shuu: The one you’re after is Yui right? So why didn’t you kill me?

Carla: It’s certainly just as you say. We have business with that woman

Carla: However, that is not the pressing matter

Shuu: ...what does that mean?

Carla: Soon you will understand

Carla: The reason I called you here has nothing to do with that woman

Carla: Sakamaki Shuu. You detest your father do you not?

Shuu: ...what are you trying to say

Carla: Hmph...I see. I too dislike things said in a roundabout way

Carla: I will be straight with you. We want to overthrow the vampires

Shuu: ...you want to say that to me? the vampire- though imperfect son of the vampire king, me. 

Carla: I feel that we are the same

Carla: We detest the king of the vampires, Karlheinz

Carla: And....i’m sure that deep down you also hate Karlheinz. Am I wrong?

Shuu: My old man?

Carla: Think about it. Who’s fault is it that your family fell apart? 

Carla: It was that man’s fault, he ruined it all. Your family, your mother and your brothers. As well as you yourself....isn’t that right?

Shuu: ...absolute rubbish

Carla: Is it? Just try to trace the source of all your pain. In the end where- who is it connected to?

Shuu: ....that doesn’t really matter to me. After all this time I have no intentions of resenting or hating my old man

Carla: Is that how you truly feel?

Carla: If that man wasn’t here then, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t you really think so?

Shuu: ...

Carla: Vampires that worship Karlheinz are detestable beings, however if they become our comrade then that’s a different story

Carla: If you harbour feelings of hate towards that guy then, join forces with us. Sakamaki Shuu

Shuu: ....how stupid. Am I supposed to agree to that or something?

Carla: Are you saying you have no intention of joining us

Shuu: Unfortunately, whether it’s vampires or first bloods or other people in general I have no interest. The same goes for my old man.

Shuu: ...She’s my only family

Carla: Hmph....I see. Well it’s fine

Carla: For now take your time to think about it. If you do that then, you’ll also come to see my way of thinking

Shuu: ...

-

(...Shuu-san still isn’t back. Please come back soon....)

Yui: ! Shuu-san!

Yui: Shuu-san, i’m so relieved.....! Are you okay?

Shuu: ...

Yui: Shuu-san? ....did something happen?

Shuu: ....no, it’s nothing. That aside have you been waiting in front of the door all this time?

Yui: I was worried...

Shuu: I said I would return didn’t I....you must be tired too. Rest up

Yui: ....Shuu-san, are you okay? Did Carla-san and the others say something to you...?

Shuu: No, it was nothing important. You don’t have to worry about it

Shuu: Now...for starters our top priority is finding a way to leave this place

Yui: You’re right....but you shouldn’t over do it okay? Your wounds haven’t healed yet

Shuu: I know

Shuu: We should leave here as soon as we can. If we don’t....then i’m certain something troublesome will happen soon

Yui: ...

(Once again, it’s nothing important. It would be nice if that really was the case....)