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anonymous-dentist · 6 months

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Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#guapoduo #spiderbit #i feel like i must say that any and all romantic feelings form after they're both 18+#i tried making that clear but yk. this is Not the reading comprehension site.

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soup--champ · 6 months

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day 2 prompt: fae/kiss

for @smallchaoscryptid’s spiderbit week

#soup’s art #qsmp #spiderbit #roier #cellbit #this one took sooooo long #i like what i landed on though #the background was inspired by eyvind earle’s art of course #i can’t capture the magical look he did but i did try

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insomniackel · 6 months

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Vampire art for @smallchaoscryptid spiderbit week !!

More versions below

#spiderbit week day 1: Vampires #spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp #qsmp fanart #I do not want to talk about how long this took me #I don’t even know if I like it I’m gonna be completely honest #I_Kfanart #I_Kart #Roier #Roier fanart #Cellbit fanart #spiderbit fanart

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rainy-day-wizard · 6 months

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Day one of @smallchaoscryptid 's spiderbit prompt week!

Vampires || First meetings

I may only be able to do this one and day two ;-; i'll try to work on the other days but idk if i'll get them done in time,, the difference between this and day two is wilddd

#rainy day doodles #spiderbit #guapoduo #guapoduo fanart #cellbit #roier #qsmp fanart #cellbit fanart #qsmp roier #cellbit qsmp #roier fanart #qsmp cellbit #qcellbit #roier qsmp #qroier

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pawubits · 6 months

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spiderbit prompt week day!!!

Day 1: Vampires

(prompt week by @smallchaoscryptid!!) ((also not sure if i'll like, keep doing this, i participated today cus i could but i dont think i'll have time this week, so yeah!!))

#pawu draws #qsmp fanart #roier fanart #cellbit fanart #guapoduo fanart #guapoduo #spiderbit fanart #spiderbit #idk if theres a tag for this one

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somebluemelodies · 6 months

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SPIDERBIT WEEK hosted by @smallchaoscryptid !! day six: coffee | nautical IM FINALLY BACK !! i know mer au won my poll from a while back so this is kinda a double whammy? spiderbit week AND poll fic :D

For a while, Roier wonders if he’s ever gonna see the deepsea mer ever again. When he doesn’t see him the night after their initial meeting, he’s worried that the Feds may have gotten to the mer after all, and it pains him more than he cares to admit aloud.

But it’s not the last time. In fact, it happens multiple times, to the point where they have a weird schedule of sorts to meet every third day or so.

Communicating isn’t the easiest, with only Roier able to actually talk, but they make do, and he’s getting a real good hold of asking ‘yes or no’ questions or anything else that permits him to learn more about the deepsea mer.

Except for one thing. The mer’s name.

The mer can understand nearly everything Roier says, but he can’t write it. He can only write in his own strange mer-tongue, which is a series of characters that sends the pirate into a deeper confusion the more he tries to make sense of it.

For a little while, Roier contemplates giving the merman a name himself, but that feels a little unfair to the mer. He has a name, after all.

However, his mouth running faster than his mind produces a nickname, gatinho, as a result of staring at the mer for a little too long and getting lost in his eyes. Thankfully, though, the mer doesn’t seem to mind it, and Roier even swears it makes the creature blush. But that sounds like crazy talk, so he tries not to dwell on it.

Nevertheless, the nickname stays. If only because it’s… well… the truth.

(Mostly. He’s a mer, not a cat. Scales and no legs, not fur and four legs.)

(But God, if he isn’t the prettiest being Roier has ever seen.)

A couple weeks or so after their first initial meeting, Roier is sitting on the flattest rock closest to the water, the mer half out of the water in front of him with his arms resting on the rock. A routine, of sorts. Either here, or the cave.

“So, gatinho,” the pirate starts. “I need to figure out your name. We have to find some way. Because I can’t keep calling you gatinho forever.”

(But he’d certainly like to.)

The deepsea mer tilts his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“What? You like the name, huh?”

A pause, followed by a slow nod. Roier grins. “No mames, wey, this guy likes being called pretty. Like a cat. Are you sure you’re not a cat? I think you’re a cat in disguise.”

The mer looks borderline offended, trying to reach over and slap him. But the pirate pushes back, out of reach, smile growing with a laugh. “You’re swatting like a cat! Holy shit, man, I was right. I’m friends with a fucking cat. A catfish. No mames.”

There’s a growl of sorts from the merman, who definitely looks like he’s blushing now - focus, focus, focus, stop looking at him like that - and shoots up out of the water before Roier has a chance to properly react.

Next thing he knows, he’s flat on his back against the rock, and there’s a solid weight on top of him, two almost-glowing blue eyes staring him down.

(A small part of Roier wonders if he should be afraid right now. He’s seen the sharp teeth and fingers. This mer could theoretically kill him in a heartbeat. Right here, right now.)

(But he’s not afraid, God only knows why. No, he’s… no, no. Enough.)

Roier tries to mask the way his cheeks are rapidly warming up with an accomplished, shit-eating laugh. “Calma, gatinho, calma.”

The deepsea mer huffs, shaking his head before a small smile crosses his face despite himself. He leans down to really shove Roier’s shoulder, but makes no effort yet to get off.

(Not that Roier minds.)

More laughter, and then a lull, and their eyes meet again. Roier becomes acutely aware of just how close they actually are. The mer is staring at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and it makes him increasingly nervous.

(A look of wonder. Awe.)

(The mer sees the same exact look in those dark eyes.)

The pirate tries to play it off, like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest and like his thoughts aren’t circling around the fact that if he sits up enough, their lips could brush. Connect. “See something you like, gatinho?”

The mer also seems to finally realize their current position, and with wide eyes, pushes himself off and all but dives back into the water. Roier kicks himself in the ass for mourning the loss of contact.

For a few moments, as the merman doesn’t surface, he wonders if he’s fled for the night, and starts to feel a little guilty for his teasing.

But then there’s movement, and he watches the deepsea mer breach the surface again, blowing out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.”

The mer shakes his head. It’s okay.

(He did see something he liked.)

"Roier!"

The pirate's head whips around, seeing a silhouette in the far distance.

"Oh, shit-- that's Jaiden. I gotta go." He turns back to the mer. "Three days? And I will learn your name, gatinho."

The deepsea mer nods, and three things happen in succession.

One. The mer leaves him a piece of sea glass, a red one.

Two. He hesitates, then hoists himself onto the rock to press a kiss to Roier's cheek.

Three. He dives back into the water without looking back, disappearing in a fleeting glint of deep emerald and leaving Roier to touch his cheek in surprise.

"Roier!" Jaiden calls again, running over to him. "There you are! What're you doing out here?"

Roier clears his throat, willing his cheeks to cool down despite the darkness surrounding them. His best friend was eerily observant sometimes. "I was just... collecting sea glass. See? Look at this piece I found!" He picks up the piece, standing up to show her.

Jaiden looks at it before back to him, her brow quirking ever-so-slightly. "O...kay? Since when do you do that?"

"It's given me something to do recently."

She studies him another moment, trying to decipher the truth. If she doesn't believe him, she doesn't say it. Instead, she says, "fair. But I came to bring you back to the ship, c'mon."

They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, until she speaks up again. "Y'know, I haven't seen much sea glass around here. You must have some awfully good luck; I see the little pile on the box beside your hammock."

Roier opens his hand, looking at the translucent red treasure as icy eyes infiltrate his mind, the ghost of lips warming his cheek. "Sí. Something like that."

#this is my au and yet it does something to my brain chemistry #HOW I LOVE THEM #i missed writing them this was a lot of fun :'D #hopefully i can do tomorrow's prompt too!#qsmp roier #qsmp cellbit #spiderbit #qsmp #blue writes qsmp #spiderbit mer au

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theperksofbeingstupid · 6 months

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sé que me muero a las diez

Fandom: QSMP

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Cellbit/Roier

Additional Tags: Married Cellbit/Roier, Cat Hybrid Cellbit, Cannibalism, Blood, Blood and Gore, Making Out, making out while covered in blood

Summary:

There was blood in his mouth and coating his throat and covering his hands and sticking under his claws. There was blood in his mouth and meat in between his teeth and a worker dead at his feet. There was blood in his mouth and his husband sitting gently in front of him and holding his face so tenderly that it hurt. There was blood in his mouth and Cellbit was in love.

the last day i'm gonna write for @smallchaoscryptid 's spiderbit week, the prompt BLOOD!!!! GIVE IT UP FOR DAY FIVE !!! WOOOOOO

i miss them...

#:pencil:#spiderbit #i just aagagrgagrgarr i miss this arc so terribly much and i miss them too #i miss how insane they are about each other and how insane they are in general weewoo #qsmp fanfiction

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dance-like-an-idiot · 6 months

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Isn't It Love?

soulmates for @smallchaoscryptid's spiderbit week!

Teen, No Warnings Apply

Fandom: QSMP

Pairing: Cellbit/Roier

Additional Tags: Soulmates, Surgeons, Surgeon Cellbit, Medical Inaccuracies, Soulmates Feel Each Others Pain, but it doesn't go how you'd think i swear, No Graphic Descriptions, badboyhalo is also here. he may or may not talk more than roier. i fucked up the pacing

Summary:

Cellbit is one of the best surgeons at the hospital he works at. He's been a bit distracted lately, and thinking way too much about his lack of soulmate. Surely this train of thought won't ruin his upcoming surgery though, right? He's proven wrong when he meets Roier for the first time, his patient.

#fandoms fics ish #qsmp #spiderbit #spiderbit week #fandoms spiderbit week #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #i posted it 12:15 for me but who cares #i love soulmate aus #i made this one in july #and also wrote 2k of these words while listening to poppy and death grips #goodnight

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smallchaoscryptid · 6 months

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To Kill Or Not To Kill

Chapter 1: You Don't Want A Taste?

Summary: Roier meets a vampire in an alley and it doesn't go exactly as he expects it to go.

For Spiderbit Week Day One: Vampires / First Meetings

#smallchaoscryptid spiderbit week #william writes #william whispers #im going to finish the second chapter at some point #i just realized this fits both prompts

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flowergardeninthewall · 6 months

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@smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit week day 3 soulmates/late nights

The mark bloomed impossibly early in their relationship. As in almost on their first touch. Cellbit wasn't even sure he was capable of forming a soulmate mark. Yet as Roier was helping him stand up from being knocked, flowers started to bud on the skin under his palm. And where Roier’s hand was on his own skin, a matching plant starts to grow.

Hyacinths. According to the book on flowers that Tallulah had lent Cellbit they are hyacinths, the mark has grown considerably, enough to be able to tell what plant they are but the flowers have yet to bloom.

Under the flower was a story. The Greek god Apollo’s friend killed by a jealous wind god, and instead of going to the underworld his soul was turned into a flower and planted in the earth. A hyacinth.

The buds had finally bloomed. Cellbit had betrayed them, and they bloomed. Deep purple. Somewhere Roier remembers vaguely hearing the meanings behind the colors of the flowers decorating the inside of his arm. But he only remembers when he sees the hyacinth laid on top of the book addressed to him in the hidden chest. Regret.

It was easier to put on a smile than most days, everything was perfect, well almost. Quackity almost blew the venue up with everyone inside, there was a bit of a murder and Bobby. Bobby would have loved it. He was there, the sun was shining as always, but it wasn’t the same. But now? He was in bed holding his husband matching pink flowers decorating their arms. and maybe he could move on and maybe one day he would be able to smile for real.

Cellbit was angry, the federation has done nothing but lie. The bear has done nothing but laugh at him and his misfortune. Every single lead they have had on the location of the eggs has ran itself dry. He's tired. Tired of being used, pulled around. Laughed at by that stupid bear. He only sleeps when his husband drags him up to bed and flops down on top of him.

It's hard to pin when the flowers shift blue, they only notice it after they promise to stay by each other’s side no matter what.

The thing that drove him, let him continue to search was the mark sitting on the inside of his arm. His soulmate. The flowers had shifted and bloomed into a deep purple. Regret. It had changed to purple during purgatory when Roier finally couldn't even put the energy into bringing himself to smile. How could he? He broke his promise.

Not only do the flowers symbolize his husband, but shows that he is still alive, breathing, out there. He was still there, still alive, and regrets staying on that island. And that was enough. They were both alive, they survived, they still loved each other. And Roier was certain they would see each other again. He just needed to find Cellbit. Wherever he may have ended up.

Soul marks can fade, Cellbit knows this, it happens all the time. Flowers can die just as they bloom, but the hyacinths that mirror the now vivid blue ones blooming on his own arm are gone, they're not there on the inside of Roier's arm and he has no idea how to feel about it.

That's a lie. He does know how to feel about it, but he is never going to acknowledge those feelings. Instead, he is going to learn how to do a sick ass kick flip and maybe he can also learn to let that mark fade, die out and wither away. Maybe one day he can learn to let go as Roier did.

Was this supposed to be happy? I promise this was supposed to be happy it just kinda got away from me and yeah.

I wasn't even intending to do something for this spiderbit week, but uh my greater qsmp soulmate au has decided to whisper sweet nothings into my brain, and now im looking up flower language during work.

I love soulmate aus, and honestly, soulmates of choice? That's the good shit. I could ramble about this AU for hours.

#smallchaoscriptid spiderbit week #spiderbit #Qsmp fic #spiderbit week 2024 #garden of fic #Greater QSMP soulmate AU

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atthebell · 6 months

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Words: 1658 Fandom: QSMP Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier Characters: Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Roier Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fae, but not really i fudged it, Cat Hybrid Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Monster Rafael Lange | Cellbit, <- the more accurate description really than fae, First Meetings Summary:

“Hunters aren’t welcome here,” he murmurs, throwing his voice across the grove at whatever human is taking careful steps towards the treeline. They pause, tilting their head. The trees block out most of the moonlight from this angle, so he can’t see any details, but he hears them laugh. “I’m not a hunter, man.” - Cellbit finds something in the woods-- or, more accurately, something finds him.

for day 2: fae/kiss for @smallchaoscryptid's spiderbit week!

#bell.txt #bell fics #qsmp fic #spiderbit #smallchaoscryptid spiderbit week #and i'll post the other one i wrote as a scrap as well maybe

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anonymous-dentist · 6 months

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Or: Prince Roier Hires a Faerie to Help With His Divorce (he hasn't gotten married yet)

For day two of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Fae/Kiss

Once upon a time...

Roier picks his way through the foliage with a grimace. His feet hurt, twigs keep smacking into his face, bugs keep flying into his mouth. This sucks, but it'll all be worth it.

Thunder rolls above, and rain starts pouring down without a second's warning.

...It'll all be worth it.

He's due back at the castle by morning, but, honestly, he'd kinda rather die than go back. If the wolves eat him, so be it!

Grumbling, he pulls his hood up over his head, and he continues onward. If he freezes to death out here, so be it!

He's not planning on going back to the castle alive, anyway.

Legend has it that, deep in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla, there lives a man-eating witch capable of tearing a man's soul from his body before he can so much as breathe in her general direction. Nobody knows this witch's name, but everybody knows that she's totally fucked up: if she isn't eating people, she's eating bears, and her magic is said to be as destructive as the eruption that created the universe.

Roier needs to meet her now.

So he continues trudging through the woods. The lantern in his hand is fighting to stay lit, and his boots are filled with enough water to drown a rat with, but he's fine. He's going to die miserable, but he's fine.

There's a flash of lightning bright enough to blind him, and then there's a crash of thunder loud enough to make him jump and nearly drop his lantern. When his vision returns, the tree in front of him is toppled to the side, leaving only a charred and smoking stump behind.

And then there's the cat.

Roier, frankly, stares. Because... what?

It's a cute cat, at least: brown with black stripes almost like a tiger's and blue eyes so bright that they almost seem to glow in the night. It sits on the stump with its tail curled around its paws, very polite, 10/10 cat.

Hesitantly, Roier approaches. He holds the lantern up to the cat, tilts his head, smiles.

"You're so cute," he coos, bending down to pet the cat between its little ears. "What are you doing out here, eh?"

The cat yawns, and then it huffs, "I could ask you the same question."

Roier screams and recoils and drops his lantern. It goes out, but the forest doesn't grow any dimmer because the cat is fucking glowing now, okay. Okay!

The cat rolls its eyes, tail twitching. "Okay, ouch. I'm not that scary."

"You're a talking cat," Roier breathes. "What the fuck?"

"What, you were expecting the witch?"

A pause.

Then:

"Oh, come on!"

Roier finally collects himself, brushing the water off of his cloak and adjusting his hood and picking up his lantern.

The cat stands and starts pacing the stump in a small, annoyed circle.

"The witch isn't even real," it complains. "She never was! Witches aren't real!"

Roier frowns. "Fuck you, man, my best friend is a witch."

"They aren't. Witches aren't real. Magicians are real, but witches-"

"You are literally a talking cat."

"I am a faerie," the cat corrects, sounding almost pained as it does so. "Faeries are real. Witches are fake. It's all anti-faerie propaganda created by the Federation-"

"By the what?"

The cat flicks his tail at Roier; Roier's mouth shuts, and, to his alarm, he finds that he can't open it again no matter how hard he tries.

The cat angrily swipes a leaf off of the stump. Unfortunately, it is really cute as it does so.

But then it starts complaining again, and Roier decides that this annoying fucking faerie cat isn't that cute after all.

"I haven't eaten anybody in centuries!" the cat shouts. "Fucking Cucurucho..."

Roier's eyes widen.

He waves at the cat until the cat does its magic thing again and allows him to talk.

First, Roier sucks in a deep breath through his mouth. That was uncomfortable.

Then, he says, "I know Cucurucho. I'm supposed to marry him in three days."

The cat's eyes narrow. Its shadow beneath it seems to grow; it tinges itself red like a pool of water with blood in it, wow. That's almost cool.

"That's why I'm here," Roier explains. "I need the witch to kill me so I don't have to marry him."

The cat sits.

"I see," it says. "Unfortunately, the witch isn't real."

"Suuuure, but you are." Roier sneaks closer. "Can't you just-" He opens his hands and wiggles his fingers. "-magic me dead?"

The cat stares at Roier's fingers. "Um. No. Faeries can't kill."

Roier deflates. "Ugh."

With a frustrated groan, he sits on the stump next to the cat. The cat grumbles, but it doesn't, like, magic him onto the ground, so that's kinda nice of it.

"But," the cat says, slowly as if questioning itself as it speaks, "I can get you to kill for me."

Oh. Now there's a thought. But...

Roier looks to the side at the cat. "I've tried. I'm pretty sure he's immortal, man."

"You haven't tried killing him with faerie magic. Now, come here."

The cat hops off of the stump and pads into the forest. After a moment, Roier follows.

They walk until they reach a hollowed-out tree. Then, the cat hops into the tree and mutters to itself as it looks for something.

Eventually, the cat pokes its head out of the tree with an opaque brown bottle held in its mouth.

Roier takes the bottle and turns it over in his hands.

"This," the cat says, "is extract of unicorn. Mix this in with Cucurucho's food, and he'll be dead by the end of the night."

Roier's mouth twitches. It'll happen, just like that? Just like that? Decades of oppression over just. Like. That?

"Okaaayyy," Roier drawls. He looks back up at the cat with a small smile. "Thank you."

The cat responds by clambering out of the tree and lounging on a branch hanging by Roier's face.

"No, thank you," the cat insists. "You'll be doing us both a favor if you manage to kill that asshole."

"If this kills him, you'll be a hero."

"Oh, I'm no hero. I'm just..." (The cat grins with far too many teeth in its mouth.) "...an invested party."

Well, the cat is probably evil. But that's fine. So is Cucurucho, and two wrongs make a right, right?

Well, wrong! Because Cucurucho isn't fucking dead.

Roier stomps back to the tree stump with the faerie's empty unicorn piss whatever bottle in hand. He doesn't have a lantern this time because, frankly, he really isn't intent on returning to the castle this time. If he trips over a root and dies, so be it!

The cat is nowhere to be seen. Of course, the bastard.

"Gatinho!" Roier calls. He cups both hands around his mouth and spins in a circle and continues shouting, "Gatinho! Where the fuck are you! Come here!"

No response.

Frustrated, Roier chucks the bottle to the ground and plops onto the stump. He puts his head in his hands and groans.

"I am going to fucking die," he moans. "I can't go home, I need to die, what the fuck."

A twig snaps. A presence ghosts over his shoulder, what feels like fingers grazing his tunic. But, when he snaps his head up and turns around, all he sees is the cat sitting behind him.

Roier's eyes narrow. "You."

"Me," the cat agrees. "Did it work? Is he dead? Please tell me he's dead. He's dead, right?"

"No! He isn't! He thought that unicorn shit was edible glitter! Now he wants it at the wedding!"

The cat blinks. "Huh."

"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier huffs and turns back around and hides his face again. "Fuck you, man. You said it would kill him."

"It should've. He's a demon, right?"

"How should I know? He's a fucking bear wizard thing."

"Okay, again, wizards aren't real, magicians are. But you're marrying him, right? How do you not know what species he is?"

"It's not like I'm getting a choice in the matter," Roier spits. He glares into the palms of his hands, shoulders shaking with barely-concealed rage. "Either I marry him or he destroys the kingdom."

There's a pregnant pause as the cat takes this information in. Fair, honestly. Roier hadn't exactly told him that he's a prince. Wasn't important, still isn't important. Doesn't matter if he's a prince if he's being sold off to marry a goddamn bear like he's a common animal.

It's for the good of the kingdom, Foolish had said. He and Vegetta have always liked Cucurucho despite Cucurucho being a legendary fucking creep. It's either you or Leo.

And Roier isn't the one that's meant to take the throne after his parents die.

"Can't you just kill me?" Roier asks. He waves a hand in a random direction. "Just make a tree fall on me or something. It'll be an accident, it's fine, your faerie cops won't know."

"Um, no," the cat says. "That's fucked up."

"Don't you eat people? How the fuck do you eat people without killing them?"

"Who says I killed them before eating them?"

Ah. Sounds about right.

...Kinda cool, to be honest. Imagining a tiny little kitty cat rip a grown dude apart like he's a slice of bread. Almost funny in a way.

Roier jumps as something brushes the hair out of his face.

He jerks his head upright and glares down at the cat, now sitting delicately in front of him.

"I have an idea," the cat tells him. "Follow me."

As they walk back to the hollow tree, the cat asks, "Does Cucurucho still have that freaky mechanical sword?"

Roier thinks. "Maybe? I don't know, he kinda just sits and stares at people. Sometimes he chases the servants around with a sword? Dunno if it's mechanical, though..."

"Well, any sword will work. Hold on."

The cat leaps into the tree and comes out with a new bottle, this one clear.

Roier takes the bottle and swishes it around. The liquid inside looks like oil, okay...

"This is dragon's blood," the cat explains. "It's corrosive to the touch, so be careful. Tell him that it's a special polish for his sword. It should eat his skin to the bone and kill him dead."

"Huh," Roier says, suddenly much more careful with the bottle. He gently slides it into his pocket, makes sure it's secure between a bag of coins and his headband. "Okay. Cool."

"This should work," the cat says. "But I'll try and think of something else for if it doesn't."

"Yeah, well, it'd better work," Roier huffs. "I'm getting married in two days. Then the gods only know what he's gonna do with me."

"Trust me, we'll figure it out."

"Trust you? Aren't you some kind of evil faerie cat?"

The cat looks offended. "Excuse you, I'm barely evil anymore. All I do is read these days. Do you know how many books I have at my house? More than Cucurucho, that's for sure."

"You have a house?"

The cat visibly bristles. "Of course I have a house. What, do you think I'm homeless?"

"You are a cat."

"Not all the time!"

Oh, that's interesting. Roier can almost imagine what the cat looks like in a human form, but the idea escapes him at the last second.

"Whatever," Roier sighs. "Just kill me tomorrow if this doesn't work."

Roier doesn't even bother shouting as he storms up to the stump.

He sits, pulls his cloak off, tosses it to his feet, kicks it away. What the fuck!!

He doesn't so much as blink as the cat appears by his side.

"It didn't work?" the cat cries. "Really? That should've worked!"

"Yeah, well, it didn't," Roier huffs. "He wore gloves today. And Cucurucho figured out that I've been sneaking out to see someone at night, so he told my parents that we're going to move to a different castle out in the middle of nowhere. I bet he's going to lock me up, the piece of shit."

The cat's ears lay back on its head. Its eyes narrow, and its lip curls back in a clear snarl.

"I know," Roier agrees. "Fuck this guy for real."

"Fuck him."

"Fuck him!"

Roier smiles just for a second, and he even manages a brief laugh before remembering, right. He's fucking doomed. Right.

Sighing, he slumps to the side until he's tumbling off of the stump and splayed across the ground. He buries his face in the grass and screams.

To his credit, he hardly jumps as a hand firmly settles on his back and rubs it. Small circles, firm hand, big hand, it feels like, wow.

Something- a knee?- presses against Roier's arm firmly. It's grounding in a way. Almost.

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Roier whines. "Just kill me, gatinho. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to kill you, guapito," the cat says. (Roier blushes. Guapito...) Its voice sounds deeper, almost. Louder. More clear. "I can't."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Marry Cucurucho?"

"I won't let that happen."

"Why? Because you want to kill him? Because that hasn't exactly been working so far."

"Because it's super fucked up that he's forcing you to marry him. I don't give a shit about the kingdom, I don't live there. I want him dead, but I'm starting to think that he's unkillable."

The hand moves from Roier's back up to his head. Fingers sift through his hair. Woooow, that feels good. When's the last time Roier got touched this softly? Before Cucurucho arrived?

"I've been thinking," the cat continues. "I've been keeping an eye on Cucurucho for centuries, but he's never tried destroying the kingdom before now. Before you. I think that, if you're gone, then he might leave, too."

Roier cracks an eye open. He doesn't shift his head at all, so he can only just barely make out a hint of cloth. So the cat has clothes when he's a human, that's cool, Roier guesses. Makes him wonder where they came from.

"So... kill me," Roier tells him. "If it'll get him to leave the kingdom alone, kill me."

"I can't do that."

"I'm not next in line for the throne! It's fine! Just push me into the river, I can't swim."

"You can't swim? Really?"

"Well, I can, but I can pretend that I can't!"

"You are so... selfless," the cat says, sounding completely exasperated. "And stupid. No, come with me. I know how we can solve this without killing you."

The hand leaves Roier's head, and then a cold nose is poking at his cheek until he's sitting up and looking the cat right in its little kitty eyes.

"Do you still have cat eyes when you're in another form?" Roier can't help but ask. "That would be really cool."

The cat chuckles. "Maybe. Come on. I have one last thing we can try."

They go to the hollow tree, and Roier waits as the cat scrambles into the tree and surfaces with a necklace clutched in its teeth.

Roier takes the necklace and inspects it. It's a solid gold chain with a little charm that looks like a cat's head. Cute.

"What, is this evil faerie gold that will melt Cucurucho's skin off?" Roier asks.

"No, it's for you," the cat replies. "Wear it tomorrow. When the wedding reaches the climax, take the necklace off and break it."

Roier points at the cat accusingly. "You are going to kill me!"

The cat rolls its eyes. "I'm not. Just... trust me."

Trust the man-eating faerie cat, sure. Right.

Roier sighs, but he puts the necklace on, anyway. It's surprisingly warm around his neck.

The cat almost seems to smile. "You look lovely."

"This thing is going to explode and blow my head off."

"No, you'll see."

And, well. What choice does Roier have but to wait and see?

The final wedding preparations go by in an uncomfortable blur.

Leo comes in to hug Roier goodbye. She then punches Roier in the stomach and tells him to write to her once he's at his new house.

Jaiden comes in to help Roier finish getting ready. She's happy about the marriage because she really thinks that Cucurucho is a good person, and Roier can't help but be happy that she's happy.

Foolish comes in to walk Roierto the church. He and Vegetta each take one of Roier's arms, and they walk.

And then Cucurucho is waiting at the church in front of the altar in an all-white suit. His fur is meticulously brushed, his claws are polished, his smile is painted on, he's absolutely grotesque.

Roier hates him.

"Good morning," Cucurucho says as Roier settles in front of the altar.

"It's sunset, you fucking idiot," Roier snaps. He can say what he wants now, right? He's going to die, anyway. The cat is going to kill him.

Cucurucho laughs, and then the ceremony starts.

Roier tunes out most of the goings-on if only to keep himself from breaking down and breaking the necklace before it's time. The cat said to wait until the climax, so Roier's going to wait for the goddamn climax.

He comes back to himself as the cleric asks if anybody in the audience has any objections to the marriage.

This sounds like a fucking climax if Roier's ever heard one.

"Yes," he says. "I object!"

He tears the necklace from around his neck and throws it to the floor. Before anybody can stop him, he slams his heel into the charm.

The entire church erupts into screams as a blinding white light fills it. Magic tears at Roier's skin, biting and pulling. He squeezes his eyes shut, anticipating the end of it all.

But:

"I also object," the cat says.

Two large hands settle on Roier's upper arms, and he's pulled back and against a firm chest.

Roier tilts his head back- not too far, because the cat's human form is shorter than he is, funnily enough- and his eyes widen as he takes in the most beautiful man in the world. Long hair the same color as the cat's coat, scarred face, feathery earrings, cat eyes.

"No," Curucucho snaps. "No!"

"Yes!" the cat- well, not the cat, Roier supposes- shouts. "The prince is mine! He swore himself to me the moment he accepted that necklace, and so he will go back with me to the Faewild and become my husband. You know the rules, bear."

Leo, in the audience, cheers. So does Foolish, who always appreciates a good show.

"Gatinho," Roier hisses.

The faerie shrugs his concerns off. Roier is annoyed about this for exactly three seconds before he gets caught up in the faerie's eyes.

Could be a worse arranged marriage, that's for sure...

A long moment passes, but Cucurucho eventually says a begrudging, "Yes."

"So," the faerie continues, "you will not destroy the kingdom for this. If the prince has already been promised to somebody else, then he never rejected you."

"Yes," Cucurucho sighs.

"You're hot when you're arguing," Roier whispers.

The faerie's cheeks redden, as do the tips of his pointed ears. Cute!

Yeah, no, this arranged marriage will be way better than the last one.

"So!" The faerie turns Roier around so that they're looking at each other properly for the first time eye-to-eye. "You will be coming with me."

"Yeah, okay," Roier agrees. Hell yeah. "Take me, gatinho."

"'Take me'?" Foolish gasps. "Ooooo, this is getting spicy!"

"All you need to do is say my name," the faerie says.

He leans in close and whispers right into Roier's ear, and Roier returns the favor... with a couple of flirtatious remarks thrown in for good measure. Sue him, he's about to get married to a sexy faerie. He's going to make the most of the situation.

"Cellbit," Roier murmurs, and something tickles at his skin. Something... purple. It feels purple. Soft and purple.

"Roier," the faerie replies. He looks positively flustered, aww. He's going to be so fun to tease once they're out of the church.

As the Faewild's magic starts to pick up, Roier can't help but give the faerie a grateful kiss.

The faerie blinks away from the kiss after a moment of some very eager lip-chasing. His face is completely red, and his eyes are wide and unblinking even as the magic around them whips like the wind.

"There's more where that comes from," Roier teases. He puts his arms around the faerie and smiles. "You're marrying me, get used to it. That's just part of the deal."

Because faeries are all about deals, right? Well, Roier's the best deal this guys is ever gonna get.

The faerie swallows, an eager grin teasing at his face.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Alright."

He pulls Roier's head down for another kiss just as the Faewild swallows them whole.

(Legends say that there are monsters living in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla. Once monster is a man-spider with glowing red eyes and fangs the length of one's sword. The other is a furry snarling beast of a thing with magic worthy of the most powerful of witches.

Ah, but don't worry, my child, for these monsters don't hunt humans.

No, they hunt bears, and isn't that a good thing for us?)

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#i really like this one too!! i love fairy tales!#spiderbit #guapoduo #it's cheesy but that's fine

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