#GiveCashMoreLove2k18

[dragonfics]

Schrodinger’s Werewolf

Prompt: Rushing to the hospital/Waiting in the hospital

Ship: Puppymoney + Papcest OT5

AU: Supernatural (which I completely butchered by the way, sorry)

_______________________________

For @itsladykit who asked for the Papcest OT5 (technically the Atypical hoard, but this feels a lot more like the regular OT5). This is one of the angst prompts, but it’s a lot heavier on the hurt/comfort--with a happy ending of course. Kit doesn’t like unresolved sads. Also, please forgive the highly insensitive title.

Warnings: Near death (no actual death), mention of a car crash, graphic injuries, needles

This would have to be very deep into Siren Cash’s redemption arc, because he’s way too nice here. (Let’s just pretend it’s normal Cash.... wait, nope. Still too nice. It’s an AU of an AU Cash where Cash is nice. There.) Thank you, Kit. I hope you enjoy!

~Below the cut~

“i’m fine—i said i’m fine.” Cash pushed away the paramedic, scrambling towards Pup’s stretcher. “pup—puppy, can you hear me?” He grasped at Pup’s hand, squeezing it. Ignoring the marrow that soaked Pup’s entire torso. Ignoring the sheer volume of magic spilling onto the ambulance floor. “pup…”

“Sir, we’re going to need you to give him some space.”

“fuck off,” Cash growled in warning, clutching Pup’s hand tighter.

“Sir, you’re injured. You have a cracked rib and possible vertebral damage. If you’d just let me—“

“get back!” Cash snarled as the paramedic touched his shoulder. She flinched at the sudden flare of magic and Cash’s bared fangs. Sighing and stepping away, she let him be. Tempering an unhinged siren was clearly above her paygrade.

Cash winced as the ambulance jolted, pain spearing through the fragmented bones of his shoulder. But he couldn’t think about his own superficial injuries right now. He didn’t care about them. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Pup.

Pup. Whose ribcage was half-collapsed and whose spine was almost definitely the wrong shape. Pup. Who was so wet with his own spent magic his bones were a shocking violet.

And it was all Cash’s fault.

“His body isn’t accepting the mana.”

Cash perked, glancing up at the paramedic tending to Pup’s vitals. “what’s wrong?” he asked. “what does that mean?” But no one was listening to him, focused intently on trying to staunch Pup’s wounds and inject him with chemicals Cash wasn’t familiar with. Which should have put Cash’s mind at ease—they were helping Pup (were they? Could they be trusted? What if they were just making it worse? What if--)—But Cash’s frustration exceeded his logic. “tell me what’s happening!” he growled, panicked.

“We’ve got the right mana type, but his body is rejecting it,” the paramedic explained, his eyes darting to Cash a little fearfully. “It may be because of his species…” He pressed against Pup’s wounds. (What use was it? There were so many. Pup had already lost too much magic. Too much. How could they possibly hope to stop it?)

Cash stared, squeezing Pup’s hand tighter. “well—do something about it,” he pleaded, hoarsely.

“We’re trying, sir,” the paramedic said with a deliberate look at his colleague.

Pup was so still. Unnaturally still. His normally strong bones broken and shattered like glass. Like nothing. “p-pup,” Cash whined, clinging tighter to Pup’s hand. “pup i’m sorry i’m so sorry please—”

“Increasing the mana dosage,” the paramedic said. He frowned as he pressed the tip of the needle beneath the outer membrane of Pup’s soul. (So pale and broken and fragile. How was it even still going?) “We might be able to overwhelm his system into accepting the mana temporarily until we reach the hospital.”

“Do they have wolf magic in supply?” his colleague asked.

“Let’s hope so.”

Cash clutched Pup’s hand tighter, surprised the bones hadn’t shattered in his grip. He pleaded silently, his chest heaving. “don’t leave me, pup. stay with me. don’t die. don’t you dare fucking die, you bastard, or i’ll kill you.” He fought against tears.

  Cash paced the hallway, his soul thrumming. He cast another desperate glance at the operating room, but the door remained shut. Pup was behind that door. Dead or alive, Cash had no way of knowing. Schrodinger’s Werewolf, his mind supplied, unhelpfully.

“Cash?”

Cash flinched violently, magic sparking briefly--only to realise it was just Twist. The dragon’s eye-light was lit, hot and fierce. His grip on Cash’s fractured shoulder was too tight. Cash didn’t care. His breath was coming too quickly—yet not at all, a squeezing pressure around his soul. Twist’s eye-light flickered to the door, then back to Cash. “Let’s sit,” he said, unnervingly gentle.

“no, no, no—what about pup?” Cash asked frantically, looking at the door. “what if—”

“Ye’ve done what ya can. Now ye’ve jus’ gotta wait.” Twist spoke the words like a grudge—he was just as unhappy about the fact as Cash was. Cash still fought him as he half-dragged him towards the waiting room. Edge and Rus were sitting together, huddled close. They looked up when Twist and Cash approached—as did half the other people in the room, Cash still caught between sobbing and snarling as he attempted to pry himself free of Twist’s hold.

Rus stood up immediately and hurried over to them, placing an arm around Cash’s shoulders. Cash fought his projections—but to little avail. “fuck you, demon,” he growled, even as he melted into Rus’s side. Rus made no ‘maybe later, siren’ joke, as he might have on a normal day.

They all huddled close on one of the sofas, none of them speaking. What could be said? They all knew it was Cash’s fault. He’d been the one driving. He’d gotten angry. Again. Always. Why did he always have to—

“Pup gave you that, didn’t he?” Edge spoke so quietly, Cash almost didn’t hear him at first. When he noticed Edge’s eyes on the half-moon ring around his left index finger, he curled the hand to his chest, eyeing Edge dangerously.

“what of it, vampire?”

Edge didn’t speak. Closing his eyes, he nudged himself against Rus, who was dozing. Cash went stiff when at first Edge touched his hand. Edge had never been good at projecting—not in the way Rus and Twist were. And yet, at the same time, the touch was pleasant, undemanding. As Twist, in his half-asleep haze, began emanating warmth, Cash let Edge hold his hand, and let the tears fall.

  “Someone’s awake.”

“i’m not awake, twisted. fuck off.” Cash buried himself deeper into the sofa cushions, but Twist gripped his arm and yanked him to his feet.

“Not you, asshole.”

Cash rubbed his shoulder, staring at Twist as realisation dawned on him. He noticed that Rus and Edge had disappeared, the early morning sun shining through the windows. “i-is he…?”

“He wants ta see ya,” Twist said, grinning.

A flood of emotions overwhelmed Cash’s soul—relief, anxiety, joy… fear. “is he… angry with me?”

Sorrow briefly struck Twist’s expression, but his relaxed smile quickly returned. “He’s alive. C’mon. He’s been askin’ fer ya.”

Edge and Rus were sitting on the sofa beside Pup’s bed when they reached his room, the curtains drawn against the sun and Edge dozing against Rus’s shoulder. Cash froze in the doorway, nerves suddenly gripping him. Pup glanced at him, his soft purple eye-lights dilating immediately. “are you hurt?” he asked at once, scanning the dried mana staining Cash’s clothes.

Cash stared at him. “am i—” He shook his head, incredulous. “am i hurt? you fucker! i thought you were dead!”

“i’m not,” Pup said, weakly indicating his heavily bandaged body with his only free hand. “almost. they had werewolf mana in supply. somehow.” He shot Twist an accusatory glance, but Twist had suddenly become very preoccupied with the hospital’s magazine rack. Pup shook his head and turned back to Cash. He was silent, observing him closely with a faint smile.

Cash approached the bed slowly, wringing his hands together. He sat on the chair opposite Rus and Edge. Rus was regarding him astutely, as if he might snap. Cash wasn’t completely confident he wouldn’t.

He scanned Pup for a few moments as they sat in silence, trying not to focus on the uneven rise and fall of his crumpled chest. Cash’s whole body ached, the physical consequences of the crash finally creeping up on him.

“you know which part hurts most?” Pup asked quietly, and Cash’s chest clenched. He shook his head mutely, a sick feeling rising in his chest. Pup lifted his right hand, displaying his crooked fingers and Cash laughed—actually laughed--in surprise. “you have a firm grip,” Pup murmured, amused.

“well, we all knew that already,” Rus supplied, while Edge grumbled something irritable in his doze, even as he nuzzled into Rus’s shoulder.

“thank you,” Pup whispered to Cash. He laced their fingers together, and Cash’s soul stuttered. Pup rubbed his thumb over the crescent ring on his finger, sparking warmth across Cash’s carpals. “for staying with me.”

Cash glanced over Pup—over his shattered ribcage and his fractured collarbone and his—

“it’s not your fault,” Pup murmured, and Cash felt a flood of warm intent in the air. “i’m alive because of you. because you—”

“but you wouldn’t have needed help in the first place if i hadn’t—”

“Hey, none a’ that,” Twist scolded. “Scooch over.”

Cash frowned at him. “it’s an armchair.”

“An’ I’m a dragon. Now make space.”

Cash ended up awkwardly bundled on Twist’s lap—not the most comfortable, but he couldn’t complain with the warm purr of the dragon against his back. There had been a time when Cash would have protested any sort of physical affection—from the dragon especially. But now…

He leaned forward, closing his hand around Pup’s and absorbing the pleasant hum of magic he projected in return. “i’m glad you’re alive,” he murmured, sighing in deep satisfaction. “thank you for… for living.”

Pup smiled, half-amused, half-sorrowful. “you’re welcome. it’s really not so bad,” he said, glancing at Edge and Rus, asleep on the sofa, and Twist, curled around Cash. His eye-lights lingered on Cash, and a brittle purr rumbled through him. The sound, though weak, was enough to temper the remaining static in Cash’s soul. He closed his eye, and allowed himself the moment of peace.

#200 follower milestone #Puppymoney #Papcest OT5 #my writing #Supernatural AU #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #purple sf papyrus #sf papyrus #twist papyrus #us papyrus #uf papyrus #GiveCashMoreLove2k18

[arceal-doodles]

Thanks to everyone who came to the stream! Damn flirts.

#queque cachoo #like damn #there's so many flirts #ya damn fineapples #i love you all #boiiiiiiiii #ill outflirt you #i stg #and i totally did not scream while streaming screw you guys #you have no proof #omfg i colored it #arci doodles #swapfell #kh swapfell #undertale #papyrus

[dragonfics]

Captain of the darkest seas

Prompt: Arranged Marriage

Ship: TwistedMoney (Or Patches & Radish. Twist/Cash.)

AU: Pirate (with a few supernatural elements thrown in)

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@paintys-actual-art asked for some Patches and Radish pirates! I went a bit overboard though and threw in a few extra bits of pirate lore. (And loose sea creature biology). Damn it. I’m not 100% happy with this one. It didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, and it feels a bit.... bleh.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy, Painty! ^^

Warnings for unwanted marriage (on both sides), mention of unwanted soul bonding (not forced soul bonding), implied emotional manipulation. This was one of the angst prompts, so it’s not very happy. (The ending isn’t bad though. They’ll grow to love each other!)

~Below the cut~

The ship creaked and swayed on the waters, nothing but a gentle breeze stirring them. The night was cold and foreboding, black clouds swallowing the stars and pale moon. Even below decks, the air held a biting chill.

Cash held himself tightly, shivering as the icy air crept between the crevices of his bones. The Captain’s cabin was pitch black but for the single flickering candle beside the bed. Its flame was a cold blue—strange and foreign, its light entirely uncomforting to Cash.

He drew his knees to his chest, sinking further back against the wall. Nothing here was right. As soon as he’d set foot on the Van Der Decken, something sinister had crept into the back of his mind, shifting the pieces of his perception of reality and leaving him vulnerable. The ship itself was normal by all appearances—but then, it wasn’t. The light—what little of it there was—did not produce warmth. The pale silver-blue flames of the ship’s candles left Cash with frost-coated bones. He’d been guided below deck, where he’d instantly been swallowed by darkness. Only at his insistence had a candle been lit in the cabin as he sat in wait for the Captain.

The cabin itself was relatively ordinary—what of it Cash could see, in any case. Perhaps a little cluttered. Books and relics and odd trinkets were scattered over the Captain’s desk, and portraits hung from the walls, the cold silver light casting unsettling shadows across their gaunt faces. The room had no portholes, completely closed off from the open sea. Trapped and alone, Cash shuddered, curling in on himself.

The cabin door creaked open and Cash flinched, pressing himself closer to the wall as the shadow of the Captain emerged in the doorway.

  The Captain of the Van Der Decken is a powerful ally to have, brother. Your marriage to him is a necessity—for the good of the crew.

  Shrouded by darkness, Cash could discern nothing of the Captain but his silhouette. He was a lot taller than Cash was, and his shoulders were broader. He stepped inside, closing the door silently behind him. As the light of the pale flame caught his bones, they glittered a myriad of colours, and Cash came to realise they were infused with smooth scales. Even in the darkness, Cash could see the pale glow of his eyes—completely white, sockets and all.

Cash trembled as the Captain’s heavy boots thudded against the wooden deck. He stopped a few inches from the candle’s light, his face still shadowed. “Yer gonna have ta come a little closer, love.” When he spoke, Cash felt a thousand small chills running down his spine. Though gentle, his voice was deep and unnatural. He tapped a finger against the corner of one of his eye sockets. “Can’ really see ya—sailor’s eyes.”

Cash was certain he’d never heard of sailors whose visibility was limited to the darkness. Incurring the infamous Captain’s wrath was not on his agenda for the evening however, so slowly, he inched himself off the bed, approaching. His soul clenched in terror as he stepped out of the circle of light, the darkness enveloping him in its cold embrace.

Trembling, he looked up at his husband-to-be.

This close, Cash noticed that his eyes weren’t entirely white. They bore a hint of blue—pale, much like the scales on his bones. One was paler than the other—as if it had been hazed over. The surrounding socket was shattered into a spiderweb of cracks, spreading outward and down his cheekbone.

Cash withheld a startled hiss as the Captain brushed his cheekbone with the palm of his hand, cupping his face as his eyes darted over him. “Yer very beautiful,” he murmured, almost as if he were speaking to himself. His fingers moved over Cash’s eye socket, straying to the patch covering his right one. “Violet magic… pretty colour.” His hand rested against Cash’s face for a few seconds before he allowed it to drop. Cash slumped with relief—until the Captain curled an arm around his waist and guided him to the bed. “Let’s sit, we’ve got a lot ta discuss.”

Cash obeyed stiffly, not daring to speak or resist. “Sorry—this thing’s givin’ me a bit of a headache,” the Captain said, reaching for the candle as they sat. “Ya don’ mind, do ya?” Cash shook his head mutely, closing his eyes and whispering a silent prayer as the Captain blew the flame out. “Much better,” the Captain said, and Cash felt him shifting on the mattress beside him. He could sense the Captain’s proximity, but unable to see him, he felt bare and vulnerable.

“Ya got a name, precious?” the Captain asked, tilting Cash’s chin. Even in the darkness, Cash could detect the subtle silver-blue glow of his eyes.

Cash nodded slowly. “it’s… cash,” he murmured, trying to turn his face away. Although he couldn’t see him—he could feel the penetrating stare of the Captain’s cold eyes. “don’t suppose i get to learn yours?” he asked, putting on an air of bravery, despite the way his bones rattled. “infamous captain of the van der decken’s identity’s gotta be kept secret, right? even…” Cash broke off, realising himself. His frustrations were getting the better of him. Breathing shakily, he shook his head, whispering, “i—i’m sorry. i didn’t mean…”

The Captain didn’t move, his hand still resting on Cash’s jaw. “Not gonna keep any secrets from ya, love,” he said at last. “Y’can call me Twist. Or Cap’n—if that takes yer fancy.”

“twist,” Cash said, his voice tight as he tested the word. Putting a name to the strange face of the Captain was somewhat gratifying—if not a little unsettling. Deciding it best to keep his thoughts to himself this time, Cash simply nodded. They sat in silence for a few uncomfortable seconds. Cash wished he could see the expression on Twist’s face—if just to know if he’d upset him in any way. “I… take it yer brother told ya the, erm—details a’ this arrangement?” Twist asked.

“yeah…” Cash’s voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the quiet slap of the waves against the ship’s side. “we’re to marry, and then…” Cash’s voice broke as the horror of reality began to set in again. A quiet sob threatened to escape his tight throat.

“The soul bond ain’t—” Twist’s voice was strained, and Cash heard him swallowing thickly before continuing. “If it’s not somethin’ ya want, I ain’t gonna force ya, precious. Understand me?”

  The Captain of the Van Der Decken is merciless, brother. He’s owned the seas for centuries. Those who displease him are not met with kindness—do not disappoint him, lest you doom us all.

  Cash’s eye sockets felt wet, and a heavy breath shook his chest. “yeah, it’s—f-fine.” His voice caught, his words freezing in his mouth. A broken sob hitched his chest, and he ducked his head, hugging himself. He was helpless to stop the tears, his whole body shaking with terror and despair. “i’m sorry,” he whimpered. “i meant you no disrespect. i won’t—we can—”

Cash released a small whine as he felt Twist’s arms enveloping him. All protests died in his throat when Twist cradled him against his chest, hushing him softly with gentle words and delicate caresses down his spine. “Yer okay, love. Yer alrigh’. Let it out.”

Panicked, Cash stilled, his breaths emerging harsh and ragged. Twist made no move but to soothe him however, his embrace careful and delicate. His arms were cold and he smelled like salt and ice. Cash slumped against him, his warm tears staining the cloth of Twist’s shirt. “If I’m gonna be yers… and if yer gonna be mine, then we’ve got ta trust each other,” Twist whispered. “Until then—yer not alone… Patches.” Twist’s fingertips brushed the patch over Cash’s eye socket. “I’ve got ya, yer safe with me.”

  He’s fearsome and ruthless. Don’t make an enemy of him.

  Despite the echo of his brother’s words in his head, Cash quickly found himself relaxing into Twist’s arms, pressing his skull against his sternum and inhaling, his breath trembling. Twist cradled him close—warm, protective intent emanating from him. “Yer not alone,” he murmured, kissing the crown of Cash’s skull. “Yer not alone, Patches. Yer not alone. I’ve got ya.”

Twist repeated the words, over and over, until they began to drown out all other thought. They sounded almost rehearsed, as if Twist had grown practiced at saying them. Cash allowed Twist to tuck him snugly beneath his arm. His body was cold, but being pressed so close to him was comfortable. And though nothing about this place felt quite right… this did.

#200 follower milestone #Patches and Radish #TwistedMoney #my writing #Pirate AU #Davy Jones AU #(I guess?) #angst #purple sf papyrus #twist papyrus #GiveCashMoreLove2k18

[dragonfics]

Thanks (again) to @itsladykit I was inspired to write some silly rom-com style TwistedHoneyMoney. The exact words that started it were “Twist/Rus, Cash/Rus, Twist/Cash love triangle (the kind that ends in polyamory, but starts with a rivalry between Twist and Cash)”. How was I to say no to a good old-fashioned love triangle? (Especially one with a Tale-verse monster sandwiched between to Fell-verse idiots).

Relationships: TwistedHoneyMoney (Twistfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus/Purple Swapfell Papyrus) (The poly relationship is not yet established in this chapter)

Summary:  Fell-verse monsters have a strange method of courtship—one some might deem a little unorthodox (or, in the words of certain monsters—undignified). Then again, it takes a fool (or two) to underestimate the duplicity of a Tale-verse monster. After all, isn’t it always the ones you least expect?

Tags: Non-explicit sexual content (this chapter), flirting, teasing, unconventional courtship

Warnings: Nothing serious, but this may come across as a sort of “cheating” (though no one is in an established relationship). Everything is consensual however, and the rivalry is in good-spirits (for the most part). But... they are assholes. I’m not even going to try and deny it.

Just two chapters for this one! It was meant to be a one-shot, but I went completely overboard with the “courtship”. (I would also like to apologise to anyone waiting on the next chapter of Argent Night. Unfortunately, I’ve been a bit swamped with uni stuff, so I’ve had to delay the update. I’m hoping to get the next chapter out by next weekend.)

With that all out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

~Beneath the cut~

When the Barrier had broken, and monsters had reached the Surface, it had soon become apparent that certain members of their race were more suited to life among humans than others. While many monsters settled comfortably into their new lifestyle, some found themselves struggling to adapt to the everyday norms of human society.

“Public transport? What a concept! Why on earth would I travel out in the open where anyone could attack me without warning?”

These more ill-fitted monsters were dubbed ‘Fell-verse’ by the gentler portion of their cohort, given the widespread notion that they were merely ‘fallen’ versions of the average monster.

Naturally, the Fell-verse monsters were not pleased with this distinction, and chose to name the softer members of their species ‘Tale-verse’—as an act of petty revenge (in their own eyes, at least).

“Utter airheads, the lot of them! Waltzing around as if life is some sort of fairy-tale.”

But despite a few initial disagreements, the Tale-verse and Fell-verse monsters soon came to develop a sort of fondness of each other (though neither would ever admit it openly). Though they still butted heads occasionally, their fascination with each other took over many early misgivings.

Compassion, joy, and zest were all fairly foreign concepts to many Fell-verse monsters. So it came as quite a shock to them when the Tale-verse monsters displayed such things so openly. Words like ‘naivety’, ‘absent-mindedness’, and even ‘stupidity’ were thrown around by some. Others, however, found themselves quite enthralled by the sweeter monsters, and many Fell-verse monsters were soon to be seen wandering the streets in the company of Tale-verse monsters.

And indeed, the Fell monsters weren’t the only ones intrigued by their counterparts. Many Tale-verse monsters derived amusement from the brash behaviour of Fell-verse monsters. More than once, a Tale-verse monster would have to explain the common social etiquettes of human society to a Fell-verse monster.

“He wasn’t trying to kill you, he was just offering you a drink.”

And, as time took its course, the question of Tale-verse and Fell-verse monsters entering ‘intimate relationships’ with each other arose. At first, the mere suggestion was met with utter indignance.

On the Tale-verse end, one often heard comments such as: “Utterly absurd! Can you imagine actually trying to tame one of those creatures long enough to have relations with it? I, for one, am content to let them ravage each other instead of those of us with a little dignity!”

And, on the Fell-verse side of things: “yeah, i guess i’d fuck a—heh—tail-verse or two. but, like, do they even know what they’re doin’? … do they know what fuckin’ is?”

Yet for all the doubts and naysaying, nature inevitably took its course, and soon, relationships between Fell-verse and Tale-verse monsters came to be—rare, though they were.

It soon came to the attention of the Tale-verse monsters however, that their Fell-verse counterparts had a fairly… abnormal method of courtship. Many seemed to lack the charisma acquired to ‘woo’ the Tale-verse monsters—a fact they made up for in blunt, unashamed forwardness. And though this approach had its benefits (most Fell monsters weren’t overly fond of small-talk), its success rate was fairly laughable. As it turned out, Tale-verse monsters tended to expect a little more decorum from their suitors.

Another trait which seemed prominent among Fell-verse monsters, was the (sometimes mildly aggressive) tendency towards competitiveness. And in the case of seduction, this often led to the unabashed art of bragging of one’s conquests. It soon became a point of pride, for one to be able to say that they had been intimate with a Tale-verse monster. After all, what sort of social prowess must one possess to be able to seduce such an enigmatic creature?

 Twist, a skeleton monster (and one of very few, at that), could make no claim to possessing any degree of subtlety or finesse when faced with social encounters. What he didn’t lack however—was confidence. While he’d never been one to brag (at least, not explicitly), his list of Tale-verse conquests was to be admired. Whether it was his words or his reputation—few could be sure—but Twist seemed to possess a knack for charming his way into the beds of Tale-verse monsters.

Cash, another Fell-verse skeleton, could make similar proclamations about his sex-life—and he did. Though a little shy of Twist’s level of confidence, Cash was a very proud monster, and took great strides to ensure the word of his prowess spread as far as was possible. Though he lacked Twist’s charm (and for Twist, ‘charm’ was probably a generous descriptor), he certainly had no shortage of affluence. When his wits failed him, he always had his wealth to fall back on (and it served him well).

But, as it stood, neither Twist nor Cash were quite satisfied with the list of successful Tale-verse endeavours to their names. There was one they would have liked to add—a monster they’d both had in interest in for quite some time.

Rus was a Tale-verse skeleton—and a rather fascinating one at that (in the shared opinion of Twist and Cash, in any case). Though Tale-verse through and through, Rus was rather a curiosity for the two Fell skeletons. He smiled—a lot—yet there was something behind his smile that left the mind wondering. The smile was by no means false, but it held a certain degree of ambiguity, which stirred an element of uncertainty—and intrigue—in the Fell-verse skeletons.

Being of the same ilk, Twist and Cash saw in each other a competitor for Rus’s affections. While both had yet to make a move on him, the tension between them had been present for a long time. And it was on a warm Friday night—at one of the skeletons’ weekly gatherings—that these tensions rose to a head.

****

Twist was a monster who made it his mission to spend as much time in public as his schedule allowed. So when the Tale-verse skeletons had proposed a weekly ‘pub night’—a visit to their neighbourhood’s local watering hole—Twist had been one of the first to speak up in favour of the idea (in spite of many of the other Fell-verse skeletons’ protests to the ‘Tale-verse nonsense’). And once the tradition had begun, Twist had become one of the few (if not the only) to attend every single gathering.

And this week was no different. He sat at the bar, sipping his drink and observing the other patrons (monsters and humans alike) chatting and laughing away. It was a relatively quiet night, and only a few of the skeletons had deigned to show up. Rus and Cash were both in attendance, and as it stood—very much occupied by each other.

Twist watched, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, as Cash made his very best effort to hold Rus’s attentions. They were seated in a booth along with two of the other skeletons—Red, and Blackberry (Twist’s brother). But neither Rus nor Cash were paying much heed to the other two, sitting a little closer to each other than was perhaps necessary for an ordinary conversation.

But Twist knew it would be a while still before Cash was ready to make his move. The set of his shoulders was tense and anxious, and he barely seemed able to maintain eye contact with Rus for more than a few seconds. Twist would have been more than eager to indulge himself in the entertaining activity of watching Cash squander each passing opportunity to seduce Rus for the entire night—but, Twist wasn’t known for his patience, so after downing the remainder of his drink, he stood and crossed the bar.

As he approached the booth, Rus and Cash both looked up (the latter appearing a little less than pleased at the intrusion). “Heya, Tale-verse,” Twist addressed Rus, grinning.

“twisted,” Rus greeted in response.

Cash was giving Twist an apathetic glare, and Twist lifted a challenging brow-bone before returning his attentions to Rus. “Y’know, ‘m feelin’ a little pent up—ya wanna head back ta my place fer a couple a’ hours?”

Twist knew he was taking a risk; though this very direct method of enticement had worked in the past, Rus was difficult to read. Cash, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his bewilderment. “for goodness sake, twist, ya can’t just—”

“sure,” Rus responded, standing. Cash blinked, clearly stunned (in truth, Twist couldn’t claim to be any less surprised, but he refrained from revealing as much). Rus shot Cash a smile. “i’ll see you later, moneybags.”

Cash seemed to be struggling to find words, looking crestfallen as Twist slung an arm over Rus’s shoulders, pulling him against his side. “Don’ worry, Patches, I’ll take good care a’ him,” Twist said, knowing full well that the nickname embarrassed Cash to no end.

True to his nature, Cash blushed a pale shade of violet, ducking his head and turning his covered eye away. Twist chuckled, and pressed his teeth to the crown of Rus’s skull. “Ready ta head off then, sweetheart? I’m as good as they say, promise,” he added, with a wink.

“oh, i don’t doubt it,” Rus said. “and if you prove to be better—maybe i’ll even consider fucking you again.” Twist took no small amount of delight in the smug grin he was able to cast in Cash’s direction as he led Rus from the bar.

Needless to say, he’d won.

 And, as it turned out, Rus was just as profound a partner as Twist had been hoping (more so, even). His stamina was surprising for someone of his HP, and he made very little effort to keep himself quiet (which Twist appreciated immensely). He was also astoundingly more attentive than Twist had been expecting—leaving Twist more satisfied than he could have hoped for.

As they lay beside each other on Twist’s mattress, Twist couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Gotta say, Tale-verse, I’m impressed,” he said, a little breathlessly.

“i’d be offended if you weren’t,” Rus replied, smirking. He rolled over, pressing himself against Twist’s side and resting his head on his shoulder. “you weren’t half bad yourself.”

Twist was somewhat startled by the gentle display of affection—and had to remind himself for a moment that Rus was a Tale-verse monster. Well, though unfamiliar, it certainly wasn’t anything Twist was opposed to. After a moment’s hesitation, he returned the gesture, wrapping an arm around Rus. It felt… nice.

The pleasant haze of their afterglow was broken by the dull buzz of Rus’s cell phone. Casting Twist a sheepish grin, he untangled himself from his arms, turning over and answering the call. “heya, cash. what’s up?”

Twist froze in disbelief. Why would Patches be calling now…?

“what am i doing…?” Rus turned to cast Twist a wink. “something unfathomably stupid.” Twist stifled a snort, but watched Rus carefully. There was no chance Cash was simply calling for a friendly chat; his motivations were undoubtedly less than honest. “hmm, your place?” Rus’s response to whatever Cash had said confirmed Twist’s suspicions. “tell you what—why don’t you give me an hour? that work?” Rus stifled a snort, his gaze flickering to Twist. “yeah, i’ll shower first, you asshole. see you soon.”

For a moment, Twist had to remind himself not to gape. He stared at Rus as he hung up, struggling to hide his bewilderment. “Yer… meetin’ up with Patches?” he asked cautiously, ensuring he hadn’t misunderstood the phone call.

Rus flushed slightly, but smiled, his eyes darting away from Twist. “yeah… something wrong with that?”

Twist blinked, trying to comprehend the situation. While Cash’s intrusion was not unexpected—Rus’s agreement to his offer certainly was. Still, Twist wasn’t one to back down so easily—though he couldn’t stop Rus from engaging with Cash tonight… he could certainly delay him. “We still go ‘n hour, don’ we?”

Rus shrugged. “i suppose.”

“Good.” Grinning, Twist rolled them over, straddling Rus’s hips. He leaned down, kissing the surprised look off Rus’s face. “’Cause I’ve got a few more things I’d like ta do ta ya before ya go.”

Twist considered it a victory that Rus didn’t have time to shower before he left.

 Twist made sure to awake before sunrise the next morning. His bones ached pleasantly from the previous night’s activities, and his magic felt considerably warm and settled. After a quick breakfast, he made his way to the nearest bus stop. He was at Cash’s house before seven. Not bothering to ring the bell of the ridiculously pricy penthouse, Twist waltzed inside—noting that Cash seemed to have forgotten to lock the front door. He certainly must have been eager.

To Twist’s surprise, Rus was sprawled out on one of the lavish sofas in the living room, fast asleep. Cash was nowhere in sight. Shooting a cautious glance at the staircase, Twist approached Rus, placing a light hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Tale-verse,” he whispered, as Rus blearily opened his eye sockets. He blinked at Twist in surprise, a hint of amusement in his features.

“twisted… couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rus murmured through a yawn.

“Nah.” Twist grinned, climbing onto the sofa beside Rus. “Patches made ya sleep on the couch?” he questioned, lifting a brow bone.

“who says we were sleeping?” Rus asked, smirking.

Twist chuckled, leaning in. “Wanna not sleep some more?”

Rus snorted. “you sure have a way with words, twisted. do you want me to suck you off or eat you out?”

Twist grinned, feeling victorious. Leaning in, he pressed their teeth together, satisfied by Rus’s soft hum of appreciation. “How ‘bout both?” he murmured, nipping at Rus’s jaw.

Rus drew away to regard him with dubiety. “now you’re just being greedy.”

“Why waste a mouth as exquisite as yers on jus’ one form of oral?”

“well now, how can i say no to such a sweet-talker?”

Twist couldn’t decide if he was more satisfied by Rus’s performance, or the look on Cash’s face when he emerged at the top of the stairs to find Rus with his head between Twist’s legs.

 A week passed without incident (sexual or otherwise), and it wasn’t until the skeletons’ next gathering that Twist saw Rus and Cash again. The day was hot, and Twist was thankful for the cool air-conditioning inside the bar. What he was not so thankful for however, was the sight of Cash and Rus huddled beside each other in one of the corner booths.

By all appearances, things seemed fairly normal (but, perhaps, for their proximity to each other). But as Twist drew closer, he came to notice a rather strange expression on Rus’s face. He looked almost pained, and light beads of sweat dotted his skull. It was only when Twist caught Cash’s expression—an almost vindictive grin—that he realised something more was at play.

Any other monster would have shied away the moment they caught whim of what was going on between the two skeletons—but Twist wasn’t just any monster. Shame was something relatively foreign to him, and without qualm, he sat down beside them, shooting Cash a broad grin. “Heya, Tale-verse—Patches—what’re ya up to?”

Rus’s eyes went wide, a heavy blush sinking into his features. But when he opened his mouth to speak, Cash cut in, leaning over to regard Twist with a challenging tilt of his head. “not much. i was just givin’ rus a hand with somethin’. isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Rus blushed deeper as Cash’s teeth grazed his neck, but he nodded (a little breathlessly), remaining silent.

Twist observed them, projecting unfazed amusement despite the frustration Cash was igniting within him. “Well,” he said, shrugging with casual indifference and leaning back, “don’ stop on my account.”

“we weren’t,” Cash growled, and Rus whimpered softly, turning to bury his face in Cash’s chest. But Cash stopped him, holding him at bay with his free hand (the other was currently… occupied). “nah, love. i want ya ta look at him. go on. turn around.”

Rus stared at Cash for a few seconds, tears leaking from the corners of his eye sockets, before turning hesitantly to look at Twist. Cash pressed his teeth to Rus’s acoustic meatus, whispering something too quiet for Twist to hear. But given the sudden heated look that crossed Rus’s features—it wasn’t difficult to guess the nature of Cash’s words.

Twist knew walking away would be admitting defeat, but he still felt thoroughly put on the spot. Embarrassment wasn’t really an emotion he was familiar with, yet he could feel magic tingling beneath the surface of his bones. Rus’s expression was an enticing mixture of bliss and discomposure, his eyes straying from Twist’s face, and his cheeks glowing. Though Twist would normally be more than inclined to enjoy the display, Cash’s complacent smirk was very off-putting.

He relinquished to sit and watch, forcing his features to appear neutral, until at last Cash pressed his hand over Rus’s mouth to muffle his cries, and pulled away. “you were perfect, darlin’,” Cash murmured, running his tongue over Rus’s neck, while keeping his gaze firmly locked on Twist. “gonna go wash my hands,” he said, sliding out of the booth and casting Twist a triumphant smirk. “don’t worry, love, i took good care of ‘im.”

Twist watched Cash go, pressing back the retorts he itched to speak. When Cash was out of sight, Twist turned to Rus, who still looked a little flushed. Shuffling over, Twist traced his fingers over the back of Rus’s hand playfully, leaning in to murmur, “Need me ta take ya home, Tale-verse? I can give y’a ride.”

Rus glanced at him, lifting a brow-bone. “you don’t drive,” he pointed out.

“Not that kinda ride, sweetheart.”

By some miracle, Rus agreed. Twist was more than obliged to continue his rivalry with Cash—indeed, he was rather delighted. The competition was thrilling—seeing the mix of outrage and frustration on Cash’s face every time Twist gained the upper hand was immensely satisfying. Not to mention, Rus was a damn good fuck.

****

Cash had never been one for socialising. He tended to avoid human (and monster) interaction as much as physically possible, and spending time in the presence of crowds was a peeve of his. He had been one of the first to reject the bullshit Tale-verse suggestion for a ‘weekly hang-out’. In fact, the first time he had attended had only been at Twist’s unrelenting insistence.

He had attended every one since.

Cash liked Rus. He liked talking to him, being around him, touching him. He was all sweet smiles and soft whispers and subtle glances that made Cash feel wanted. So on that warm Friday night, Cash’s soul had leapt a little when Rus had chosen to sit beside him. Him—and not that Twisted asshole who kept shooting them glances from across the bar. Cash made sure to establish the fact that Rus’s attentions were his for the night. He shuffled close to him, leaned in, and did his best to smile and engage.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t seem to get the right words out—hell, he could barely look at Rus without blushing. And before long, Twist was standing beside their booth, his body angled in such a way that flaunted the sharp curve of his hip and displayed just a sliver of his clavicle. His eyes were on Rus, but Cash caught the brief smug glances in his direction.

When Rus left with Twist, it felt as if a dagger had embedded itself in Cash’s chest. His fists trembled at his sides, and he could do little but stare at the hard oak of the table as his magic boiled. He caught a glimpse of Blackberry’s smug half-smile across the table, and snapped his head up, teeth gritted. “somethin’ to say, berry?”

Blackberry sighed, sounding almost pitying. “You’re not going to win against him, Cash,” he stated simply.

Irritated, Cash cast a glance at Red, who merely shrugged in concession. “yeah, uh, sorry bud. the twisted’s got ya beat by a mile an’ a half.”

Cash stared at both of them for half a minute before standing abruptly, marching for the door without so much as a ‘goodbye’. He seldom bothered mustering the energy for petty competitions—but Twist somehow seemed to know just which of his buttons to push, and Cash was nothing if not stubborn. He would not be losing this.

 Relief flooded Cash when Rus picked up on the other end of the line around an hour later (a very small part of him entertained the idea that Rus had been hoping Cash would call). And Rus’s unfaltering agreement to come over sent Cash’s soul aflutter. He couldn’t help but grin to himself as he hung up, wishing more than anything that he could see the look on the Twisted bastard’s face.

When Rus arrived an hour later, he was looking a little dishevelled. “you smell like sex,” Cash remarked, letting him in.

Rus hummed in agreement, crossing the room and flopping onto one of the plush sofas. “uh… yeah. that’s normally what happens when you have sex.” Cash felt a sick pit settling in his chest, and he grimaced. Seeming to sense his discomfort, Rus quickly shook his head, smiling. “but… feel free to try and prove me wrong.” His tongue danced over his teeth, and Cash felt warmth pooling in his groin.

After pouring them both a glass of his most expensive champagne, he sat beside Rus, who seemed more than grateful for the drink. “are you trying to get me drunk, cash?” he asked, lifting a brow-bone in teasing.

“i’m trying to give you the treatment you deserve,” Cash told him, smoothly. His breath stuttered as Rus’s hand glided slowly up his femur, settling just beneath his pelvic inlet.

“fuck me on this sofa, and i’ll consider myself treated,” Rus purred, pressing his teeth against Cash’s neck. Though Cash normally turn his nose up at the thought of sullying his pristine couches—he decided to make an exception for Rus.

And oh, was he glad he did. Though fucking Rus was sweet and gentle, it was nothing like Cash had imagined it to be. Though Rus was soft and considerate—he was by no means submissive. Even as Cash pounded into him, he could feel Rus guiding his movements, encouraging him, whispering words of praise and adoration.

When Cash came, it was with tears in his eyes, and Rus’s name falling from his mouth. He flushed at how embarrassingly quickly he had reached his climax, but Rus seemed unconcerned, almost immediately curling up against him and falling asleep.

A little startled at the unreserved display of trust, Cash carefully pried himself out of Rus’s arms, gathering a blanket and draping it over him before hurrying upstairs, his cheeks burning. A small bloom of pride unfurled inside him—where Rus had only remained with Twist for a mere hour, he had chosen to stay with Cash for an entire night (even if he was only sleeping on his sofa). Cash almost considered joining him, but decided against it, the thought a little daunting.

Needless to say, the fury and despair he felt at finding Twist in his living room the next morning with Rus’s face buried in his crotch—was unfathomable. Cash vowed nothing short of bitter revenge in return.

 A week later, he delivered on his promise.

The blistering heat of the day did nothing to quell the heady agitation of Cash’s magic, and he was more than grateful when he found Rus sitting in their usual booth alone at the bar. Sliding in beside him, he pushed his misgivings to the back of his mind, and slung his arm over Rus’s shoulders, leaning into him. “bit warm today, isn’ it?” he remarked, satisfied by the look of surprise on Rus’s face.

“i—i suppose it is,” Rus said, seeming a little taken off guard by the physical gesture. This delighted Cash, and he tugged Rus closer. He could feel the heat radiating from his body, and dared to indulge the idea that Rus might be just as horny as he was.

He turned his head to press his teeth to the angle of Rus’s jaw, feeling a shudder go through Rus as he scraped his teeth over the bone. “hmm… you smell delicious, y’know that?”

Rus’s breath hitched as Cash’s fingers found the waistband of his pants, teasing at the base of his spine and iliac crest. “i—the others might be here soon,” he murmured, his breathing beginning to quicken.

“do you want me ta stop?” Cash asked, pausing.

“i don’t… n-no.”

“good,” Cash breathed, his fingers finding the pool of magic which had settled at Rus’s pelvic inlet. “because i really don’t want ta stop… and besides, pretty sure the twisted asshole is the only one showin’ up today.”

Rus pulled away slightly to glance at him, a brow-bone lifted in skeptical amusement. Cash flushed a little, suddenly wishing he hadn’t spoken. But to his surprise, Rus only grinned and leaned close to whisper, “well then, we’d better put on a damn good show.”

By the time Twist arrived, Rus was barely short of a mess of sweat and magic in Cash’s hands (or, hand, rather). The sudden expansion of Twist’s eye-light didn’t surprise Cash, and he smirked as he caught Twist’s gaze. He was a little surprised when Twist sat down beside them—even more so when he remained where he was after it became obvious that Cash wasn’t stopping.

Cash heaved Rus closer, wrapping his free arm around his chest possessively, and whispering obscene words against his skull. Throughout the encounter, he refused to release Twist’s gaze—the bastard needed to learn that Cash wasn’t one to accept defeat so easily. For once, Cash found himself struggling to read Twist’s expression. His eye would occasionally stray to Rus’s face, but for the most part, he seemed to be having difficulty keeping it off Cash.

When Rus came, Cash pressed his hand over his mouth to silence him, despite the rowdy chatter that filled the bar. He allowed Rus barely a moment to catch his breath before leaning in to smooth his tongue over Rus’s neck. “you were perfect, darlin’,” he breathed, softly, carefully gauging Twist’s response. To his disappointment, Twist appeared (for the most part) unaffected by the display, but for the pale flush of magic around the spiderweb cracks of his eye socket. Giving Rus’s femur a gentle squeeze, Cash stood. “gonna go wash my hands.” He glanced at Twist, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “don’t worry, love, i took good care of ‘im.”

As he walked away, Cash preened at the way Twist’s jaw clenched—just a little. Though he knew this competition of theirs was far from over, he couldn’t help but revel in his small victory. While he was more than enjoying the pleasure of Rus’s company, he was beginning to find himself quite thrilled by Twist’s small slips in composure. The idea of seeing him fall apart completely was… more than intriguing.

****

The feud between Twist and Cash continued for weeks. With Rus as their weapon of choice, they tormented each other to no end—going so far as to interrupt one another in the midst of their ‘revenge schemes’. One positive at least, was that Rus seemed to have no complaints in regards to the arrangement. If he had any reservations about his role in Twist and Cash’s rivalry, he made no mention of them. Truth be told, he appeared a rather enthusiastic participant.

But, one Friday night at the bar, their antics were brought to a rather abrupt end.

Twist’s hand had somehow found its way up the back of Rus’s shirt, and he had his fingers curled around Rus’s spine—a predicament Rus seemed quite satisfied with. Particularly when coupled with the feeling of Cash’s sharp fingers on his ribs. The look on his face was something akin to deep bliss—though the same could not be said for Twist and Cash. Over Rus, they shared a piercing glare, each determined to outdo the other.

It was only when Edge (who had been observing the endeavour in silent distaste after being quite forgotten by the other three skeletons) loudly declared, “Oh for fuck’s sake, Rus—would you just pick one of them?”—that Twist, Cash, and Rus all came to a simultaneous halt, looking up at Edge in surprise.

Immediately, Twist and Cash exchanged a frantic glance. In the midst of all their attempts to best each other, not once had it occurred to them to simply ask Rus which of them he preferred. And suddenly, all attention was on the Tale-verse skeleton, who faltered beneath the gazes of the other three. “w-well…” he stammered, averting his gaze.

“… well?” Cash was quite literally sitting on the edge of his seat, his fingers clenched around the corner of the table. “which of us is it?”

Rus shook his head, releasing a quiet, humourless laugh. “look—it’s not that easy. i—”

“C’mon, Patches,” Twist interjected, shooting Cash a dubious grin. “It’s obviously me. Ya can’ even last more than a couple a’ minutes.”

Fuming, Cash opened his mouth to snap back at Twist—but Edge quickly cut in, sighing. “Aggrandising your own sexual prowess isn’t going to achieve anything, Twist,” he said, sharply, silencing Twist. “It’s precisely how the two of you landed yourselves in this dilemma in the first place… Rus?” Something unspoken seemed to pass between Rus and Edge—an understanding beyond what Twist or Cash had the capacity to comprehend in that moment.

Rus glanced between Twist and Cash anxiously, resting a hand on each of their arms. But their surprise at the unexpected gentle contact was nothing compared to when Rus quietly confessed, “i… i want both of you.”

#my writing #Fell-verse courtship #TwistedHoneyMoney #Just dicking around. No biggie. #us papyrus #purple sf papyrus #twist papyrus #GiveCashMoreLove2k18

[dragonfics]

Dark Pleasures - Chapter One

On AO3 if you’d like to skip my gushing.

This fic goes to @cheapbourbon - for inspiring me with all of their wonderful Cash art. It’s only going to be 3 chapters long, but holy hell, I really want to write more of Cash after this. I just need to yank myself away from Spicyhoney for a minute, dear god.

This is just a silly little ExpensiveSpicyHoney (SpicyHoneyMoney?) Vampire AU (not, in fact, the vampire AU I promised to write when I did that poll the other week). Chapter one isn’t too heavy on the sexual content, but the next chapter is going to be VERY explicit - just a fair warning.

Also, Warnings for this chapter: non-consensual biting, seduction of an intoxicated person (no actual sex), mild sexual coercion. I would also like to point out that as far as the “non-con” parts of this chapter go, the characters themselves do not perceive it this way. Basically, they’re assholes. Mostly Rus.

This is my contribution to the petition to GiveCashMoreLove2k18. So naturally, he, uh, isn’t exactly in the first chapter??? I’m so sorry, Cash. Don’t worry, he’ll be making an appearance soon.

Anyway, here you go, Bourbon! I hope you enjoy this. The first chapter is almost exclusively Spicyhoney sexual tension.

Chapter 1: Dinner Date

The city, though small, was never quiet. Even now, in the dead of night, young party-goers and labourers returning home late from work swarmed the streets. Music could be heard from within almost every shop, home, or rundown warehouse. The streets smelled of alcohol and something a little fouler, and lights flashed at every turn.

Edge was grateful when he reached the outskirts of the city, the streetlamps growing dimmer, and the people scarcer. Soon, he was passing through a narrow underground pass, and he felt himself relaxing considerably. It was dark, but the shadows had never been a hinderance to him. On the contrary, he was rather fond of them. They gave him a distinct advantage when it came to hunting.

He could see his prey only twenty or so metres ahead. Not so close as to alert him to Edge’s presence, but not so far that Edge might lose sight of him. And Edge could smell him. Stars, he smelled good. Edge could feel his fangs extending of their own volition. Not yet, he urged himself. But he was hungry. He was so hungry, as he often was these days. But he kept his head ducked and remained in the shadows as he followed his target. The last thing he needed was to scare the other monster away. Edge wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hunger under control if he didn’t feed soon, and experience had taught him that a ravenous vampire often led to more than just one dead monster. This. This was necessary.

Edge trailed the figure for another ten minutes or so. He was thankful that the monster was heading away from the city. It certainly made him an easier target; out of reach of prying eyes and curious ears. Even from this distance, Edge could hear the steady beat of the monster’s soul. It served only to amplify his hunger, and he conceded to leave his fangs extended, no longer able to keep them at bay. The figure turned a corner into an alley wedged between two buildings. Perfect. Perhaps the universe had decided to make this easy for him.

But when Edge rounded the corner, he was met by nothing but an empty street, the alley deserted but for scattered litter and a few rotting crates. Edge crept forward hesitantly. He was in no mood for a trap, but then again, what could a mere mortal do to him?

Perhaps he had turned too soon? Or perhaps the monster had left the alley somehow. Though a quick glance around revealed no exits but for the way Edge had come…

The cold press of steel against Edge’s throat halted him, and he gasped as the metal burned at his vertebrae. Silver. He dared not struggle or fight—one quick slice of the thin blade and Edge would be dust. He felt a hand grip at his shoulder, the blade stinging against his bone as it dug a little deeper. “care to enlighten me as to why you were following me, vampire?” a smooth voice said. Edge couldn’t see the speaker, but he could smell him, and immediately recognised the scent of the monster he’d been trailing. Trust his luck to draw him to a vampire hunter of all people.

“I—” Edge rasped as the knife dug deeper. “Please, I-I won’t—”

“turn around slowly,” the monster said. “any sudden movements and this goes straight in your throat, got it?”

Edge would have nodded if he’d dared move his neck, so he gave a low grunt of understanding instead, slowly shifting to face the other monster. He was stunned upon realising it was another skeleton monster. His features were smooth—almost pretty—and his eye-lights were a deep shade of gold. A scarf was wound around his neck, but Edge could still sense the magic coursing through his bones. Perhaps what startled Edge most though, was the fact that he was smiling. “oh, you poor darling,” the skeleton crooned—sounding somehow sympathetic, despite the burning press of his blade against Edge’s throat. “look at you, you’re starving.”

Edge blinked in bewilderment. Was this some sort of trick? Or perhaps this hunter just had a twisted way of killing his victims. Either way, Edge wasn’t convinced. He bared his fangs, which dripped with salivary magic. “If you don’t let me go, hunter, I’ll—”

“hey, come now, there’s no need for that. i’m not a hunter.” The skeleton smiled sweetly, raising his hands defensively and holstering his knife. “i’ll feed you, if you like.”

Edge could only stare, frozen in utter perplexity as he rubbed the still stinging bones of his neck. “You—” His gaze darted unwittingly to the skeleton’s cervical vertebrae, barely concealed by his scarf. He was suddenly reminded of the consuming hunger searing his soul.

The skeleton’s light laughter broke him from his brief daze, and he quickly glanced up. Amusement coloured the other monster’s features, and he shook his head. “not from me, precious. that… might rub my master up the wrong way.”

He grinned at Edge’s bewildered stare. “Your… master?” Edge swallowed, glancing around anxiously.

The skeleton seemed at ease however, and took a step closer, a playful smirk dancing across his face. Edge cringed away as the smell of the other monster flooded his senses and reignited the burning hunger in his soul. But if the skeleton noticed Edge’s discomfort, he gave no sign, instead resting a hand on Edge’s arm. “i’ll take care of you, if that’s what you want, love.” His fingers traced idle patterns over Edge’s bare ulna, and Edge struggled to suppress a shudder. The smile on the skeleton’s face was almost sickly sweet, but Edge found it … inviting. There was no rationality remaining in his mind—he was a slave to his hunger. He nodded, the movement feeling stiff and automatic—but not reluctant by any means. The skeleton intertwined their fingers, a warm pulse running through Edge’s entire body.

“excellent,” the skeleton breathed. He looked nothing short of delighted at the prospect of helping Edge find his next meal. Any amusement Edge felt at the notion however, was immediately snuffed out as the skeleton pressed his teeth against Edge’s cheekbone. “and if you behave, perhaps we can even have a little fun of our own.”

If he’d had any magic left to spare, Edge would have blushed.

 ****

  The skeleton introduced himself as Rus as he guided Edge back towards the city’s centre. He made idle chatter as they walked, speaking of his master, his home, the joys of metropolitan nightlife (and the pleasures). Edge tuned most of it out. In fact, he found himself rather distracted for a large majority of the journey. He couldn’t keep his focus off Rus’s slightly exposed neck and clavicle. His heightened senses allowed him to feel the flow of magic through the other monster’s bones; all he needed was to reach out and—

“here we are.” Edge froze, gaze quickly darting up to Rus’s face. He thought he caught a glimpse of the silver blade again at Rus’s belt, but he couldn’t be certain. “don’t worry, love,” Rus murmured, taking Edge by the hand and guiding him through the swinging doors of the establishment. “there’ll be plenty to eat in here.”

Rus wasn’t joking. As soon as they entered the bar, a thousand different scents hit Edge at once, and for a second, he was stunned into immobility. But as he came to his senses, he felt the fierce urge to feed reawaken tenfold, and he had to bury his claws into his femur to restrain himself.

Thankfully, Edge’s dwindling self-control didn’t escape Rus’s notice this time, and he quickly guided the vampire to a less populated corner of the room. A roaring fire burned in the hearth beside their table, and Edge tried his best to focus on the smell and sound of the crackling logs, and not the tirade of magical scents and soul-beats assaulting every ounce of his conscious. He gripped the edge of the wooden table until he felt something crack beneath his fingertips. Rus observed him—appearing more curious than concerned.

“how long has it been since you last fed?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. Edge found his complete lack of fear extremely uncanny. He seldom came across mortals who weren’t at least a little intimidated by him—much less when they learned what he was.

“I-I don’t know,” Edge admitted, shakily.

Rus cocked a brow bone. “you don’t know?”

“A month, maybe,” Edge muttered, trying to avoid Rus’s gaze. He felt uncomfortably scrutinised beneath the deep gold of those eyes, and he opted instead to stare at the grubby table. The wood had split beneath his fingers.

Vaguely, he registered the sound of Rus releasing a sigh. It wasn’t weary though, or even exasperated. The word that came to mind was ‘empathy’, but such an emotion didn’t seem fitting, directed at a vampire. “alright, look around,” Rus instructed, after a pause.

Edge frowned, but glanced up, gaze wandering the room. “What am I looking for?” he asked in confusion.

“pick someone.” When Edge conveyed his misunderstanding with a tilt of his head, Rus laughed softly. “someone to eat,” he elaborated.

“Oh.” Edge swallowed, though his throat still felt dry. His brow furrowed as he scanned the room, until at last he settled on a squat bunny monster, nursing her drink alone in a far corner. “Her.”

Rus glanced over his shoulder at the monster, and chuckled. “she may appear appetising, but i promise you—try to touch her, and she’ll break your pretty fingers.”

Edge flinched slightly, frowning at Rus. “Oh really?”

“really. i’m good at reading people. and i can tell you with certainty that she’s not the type to sit idly while a vampire sinks his fangs into her.” Rus leaned in, voice dipping as he added, “and i might need those fingers of yours later.”

Edge tried to hide his embarrassment with a scoff, crossing his arms indignantly. “Very well, since you’re so perceptive – why don’t you tell me who would be willing to serve as my food source? I don’t exactly have time to waste on guessing games.” The last part came out sounding a little more desperate than Edge had intended, a ravenous bite creeping into his tone.

Rus seemed unfazed however, his smile widening. “you want my advice, vampire?” He turned, surveying the room for only a few seconds before nodding in the direction of the bar. “him.”

Edge followed Rus’s gaze dubiously. A muscular monster sat at the bar, torn jacket barely concealing his chiselled chest and biceps. A broad grin stretched his long face, white teeth flashing as he flexed, much to the delight of the small crowd of monsters surrounding him. Edge turned back to Rus, ensuring the doubt was plain on his face. “That bravado of scales? Are you serious?”

“over-confidence makes him the perfect target,” Rus countered, shrugging. “don’t go for the quiet ones. they come here anticipating a fight; they’re wary of strangers. those ones—” Rus nodded over his shoulder with a smirk “—the ones with egos larger than their muscles – they’re your ideal targets. they love attention, and if you give it to them, they’ll be eating out of your hand—so to speak.”

Rus’s words were punctuated by a loud bark of laughter from the muscular monster at the bar, who took a long swig of his drink before shamelessly shrugging his shirt off and tossing it over the barstool. Edge grimaced in distaste. “Well, that’s all well and good, but surely it would be easier to simply pick someone off the street?” he contested. “Why go to all this effort?”

“picking someone off the street went well for you tonight, didn’t it?” Rus was grinning at Edge, who dropped his head with a scowl. “besides, fear taints the magic. pleasure your prey first, and the feed will be even sweeter.”

Edge felt Rus’s fingers find his own across the table, and he flinched away abruptly, pushing down the sudden curl of heat in his mouth that couldn’t be entirely attributed to hunger. Lacking the energy to argue, he sighed in resignation. “Fine,” he grunted, rising from his seat. But he was stopped by Rus’s hand on his wrist. He looked down at him with a frown. “I thought—”

“not yet. wait until the bar has emptied—closing is in an hour, so you won’t have to wait long,” Rus added, at the stricken expression that must have crossed Edge’s face. “we don’t want to make a scene if this goes awry.”

“If it goes—” Edge slumped back into his seat with a huff, trying to keep his composure. “I thought this was supposed to be a foolproof plan?”

Rus seemed unconcerned, shrugging and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “no plan is foolproof. it always takes a fool or two to execute a good plan.” Edge had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as Rus chuckled quietly to himself, lighting the cigarette between his teeth. Edge may have tried to argue if he wasn’t feeling quite so unstable, but he didn’t trust himself not to snap.

So, he conceded to wait until the patrons began to scatter, every moment sending fresh waves of agony to his starving soul. Not once did Rus show any sign of agitation however, his smile ever-present as he watched Edge across the table, smoke curling from between his teeth. Edge began to find Rus’s placidity more and more off-putting as the night wore on. What mortal would be so relaxed around a vampire? He certainly hadn’t met any who behaved this way; most would try to run screaming the moment they discovered the true nature of his being.

And the longer they waited around, the more intoxicating Rus’s scent seemed to become. Edge was almost thankful for the slight mask of his cigarette smoke, but more than once, he caught himself transfixed by the other skeleton’s pale bones. He could almost perceive the magic rushing through them, golden as their owner’s eyes.

When Rus finally stubbed his cigarette out against the table’s corner and rose to his feet, Edge was certain he’d left scars on his legs where his fingers had been clinging. Rus nodded in the direction of the bar, his eyes flashing. “ready for supper?”

Edge could only nod in response, too famished to chastise the phrasing. He trailed after Rus as they approached the scaled monster—now sitting alone with his drink at the bar. Edge was thankful that his shirt was back on, at least. As they drew close, Rus turned to murmur, “follow my lead,” before sending one of his sweet smiles in the direction of the muscular monster. As he leaned against the bar, Edge caught a glimpse of his iliac crest, peaking just above the waistband of his pants. Edge had to wonder if it was deliberate. It probably was, but Rus’s languid movements and easy smile betrayed no sense of effort on his part.

Needless to say, the boisterous monster appeared impressed, a lascivious smile crossing his face as he glanced up at Rus. “Can I help you, sweetheart?” he asked, voice marginally slurred.

“oh, i’m certain you can,” Rus said. “what’s your name, love?” Edge may have mistaken the brush of Rus’s fingers over the monster’s arm as affection if he hadn’t known better. There was a twisted glint in Rus’s eye that was almost alarming.

“Aaron,” the monster replied, grinning. He certainly hadn’t missed the deliberate touch of Rus’s fingertips (though undoubtedly, he was missing a lot, or he wouldn’t have been nearly so eager to accept Rus’s affections).

“well, aaron,” Rus purred, leaning close and touching his teeth lightly to Aaron’s ear, “my friend and i are in search of some company for the night, and you seem rather well… equipped for the task.” Edge heard Aaron release a low hiss as Rus’s fingers grazed over his crotch. “are you up for it?”

Edge decided it was worth rolling his eyes at the pun.

Rus’s expression remained painstakingly dispassionate as Aaron gripped his exposed iliac crest, yanking him forward so that he almost toppled into his lap. Rus released a husky laugh, even as Aaron began to trail his hands further down his ilium. “careful there. my friend tends to get a little jealous, don’t you, love?”

Edge could feel himself growing abashed as the other two monsters turned their gazes on him. Aaron’s eyes raked over him lecherously, and he had to push down the urge to cringe. “Aw look, he’s shy,” Aaron mused. “C’mere, sweetheart. I won’t bite. ‘Less you ask.”

Edge almost laughed at the sheer irony of the comment alone. He caught Rus’s gaze, and was thankful when the skeleton turned to Aaron to whisper, “perhaps he’ll find his confidence if we take him upstairs? i warn you though, he tends to get a bit vocal when properly motivated.”

Rus shot an impish look in Edge’s direction, which Edge returned with a scowl. Rus’s words had the intended effect however, because Aaron willingly obliged, sliding off his stool and casting a glance over his shoulder at them as he marched for the stairs. “Never fucked a skeleton b’fore,” he told them, stumbling slightly at the foot of the stairs. “You two’d better have something more than bones underneath all them clothes.” He chuckled, clearly amused by himself.

“we’ll be sure to send apology notes to all your suitors if we disappoint you,” Rus said pleasantly, sweepingly indicating the almost-empty bar with a flick of his hand. The subtle mockery seemed lost on Aaron, who just chortled as he led them up the wooden stairs, clinging to the railing for support. Rus turned his smile on Edge, looping an arm around his waist. “this is the fun part,” he whispered. “for you, at least.”

Edge felt almost queasy with hunger, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to pin Rus against the banister and sink his fangs into him. Soon, he promised himself. Just hold on a little longer.

They came to a corridor at the top of the stairs, and Aaron turned at the first door, extracting a key from his pocket and fumbling slightly with the lock. Clearly, he’d been anticipating company. Edge felt nerves arising as they entered the room, and he frantically looked at Rus for support. In truth, he’d never done this before. All his past meals had been snatched from the streets. No planning or strategizing—simply spontaneous enactment of his urges.

Seeming to sense his anxieties, Rus gave his hand a gentle squeeze, tracing his teeth lightly over Edge’s cheekbone. “i promise you’ll enjoy yourself, love. just relax.”

From across the room, Aaron chuckled, drawing Edge’s gaze. He had already kicked off his shoes and was removing his shirt as he watched them. “You two gonna give me a show?”

Rus’s exceedingly saccharine smile returned as he observed Aaron, and he released Edge’s hand to stride over to the scaled monster. “only if you behave, darling,” he murmured, trailing his fingertips over Aaron’s exposed chest. He circled the monster for a moment, smile still firmly plastered across his face. He caught Edge’s gaze over Aaron’s shoulder deliberately, before stepping close and kissing the monster.

Aaron immediately growled, gripping Rus hard and grinding into him. Edge watched them with uncertainty. He was reminded of the aching lack of magic in his soul when he caught the mingled scents of the other two monsters in the air, and he clutched onto one of the bedposts to keep himself subdued. “don’t be shy, my love,” he heard Rus call. Aaron was latched onto his vertebrae, half-pinning Rus to the wall as he tore the scarf away from his neck. Rus was watching Edge, gaze steady. A small—but deliberate—inclination of his head made his meaning fairly clear.

Gathering his resolve, Edge approached them slowly. His fingers trembled as he moved the monster’s hair away from his neck. A fire seemed to scorch his soul inside his chest, and he grit his teeth, willing himself to hold off for just a few more seconds as he looked to Rus for reassurance. Over Aaron’s shoulder, Rus smiled, whispering, “go for it, precious.”

With no more strength to deliberate, Edge ducked his head, and ran his teeth over Aaron’s neck. His skin was cold, as it was with many aquatic monsters, but Edge could sense the heat of the magic beneath. Aaron groaned against Rus, muttering, “Fuck, someone’s gained his confidence.” With nothing left to hold him back, Edge allowed his fangs to extend to their full length, sinking them into the soft flesh of Aaron’s neck.

Immediately, Aaron went stiff, a gargled scream escaping him. Any further noise was stifled however, and Edge vaguely registered Rus holding him still, hand pressed firmly over his mouth. Hot magic flooded between Edge’s teeth, and he moaned in appreciation as his soul sparked to life. He sunk his teeth deeper, and Aaron writhed weakly. Edge felt euphoria washing over him, and he began to relax, sinking into the feeling.

“good boy, you’re doing so well. that’s it.” It took Edge a moment to register that Rus was speaking to him. Soft words of praise and encouragement spilled from his mouth, and his fingers stroked deftly over Edge’s spine. Edge shivered pleasantly, sighing as his soul began to fill with magic.

Aaron had gone limp, and Edge faintly noticed the flow of magic growing weaker. “alright, love, that’s enough,” Rus whispered, his fingers still resting on Edge’s spine. But Edge was in no mood to stop. His soul demanded he continue. He needed more. He couldn’t bring himself to break the pleasant haze clouding his mind, or the ecstasy of the feed.

A sharp pain suddenly cut across his cheekbone, and Edge pulled away, hissing in surprise. Rus was giving him a bland look, knife balanced between his fingers. “Why did you stop me?” Edge demanded, wincing as he touched his injured cheek.

“we don’t kill monsters that are kind enough to spare their magic for us,” Rus said coldly, heaving Aaron over to the bed and lying him atop the covers.

“We?” Edge stared at Rus, incredulous. “You—you’re not even—I was the one drinking from him!” He couldn’t believe how much audacity this monster possessed. This mortal monster.

Rus seemed unperturbed by Edge’s outrage however, sighing without a word and disappearing into the en-suite bathroom. Edge stared after him, disbelieving. He glanced at Aaron, unconscious on the bed. Magic still trickled from the small bite wounds at his neck, staining the white bed sheets. Rus returned promptly, a damp cloth in hand, and began to dab gently at Aaron’s wound. He looked up at Edge for a moment, but his expression was plain, and he remained silent until all of the spent magic on Aaron’s neck was cleaned away. “well, he’ll probably wake up with a headache, but he’ll be fine. and i doubt he’ll remember anything.”

Edge frowned, observing Rus doubtfully, but held his silence. His cheek still stung, and he wasn’t eager for a repeat. Rus retrieved his scarf from where it had been discarded on the floor. He wrapped it back around his neck, but not before Edge caught a glimpse of two small puncture wounds piercing his vertebrae. He narrowed his eye sockets, but made no comment. Rus’s honeyed smile returned as he approached Edge, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “how do you feel?”

Edge’s soul was abuzz with fresh magic, and he felt considerably less jittery than he had a few minutes ago. He nodded briskly, straightening the crinkles from his pants and wiping away any remaining magic at his mouth. “Good. I feel… better.”

Rus’s smile widened, and his eyes seemed to sparkle as he leaned in, touching his teeth lightly against Edge’s. Edge tensed immediately, but Rus withdrew after only a second. “wonderful,” Rus breathed. They were both quiet for a moment, and Edge swallowed heavily as Rus gazed at him, as if searching for something beneath Edge’s cool demeanour. “i never did ask, love,” Rus said at length, “what’s your name?”

Edge blinked. “Oh, um…”

“or would you prefer that detail be kept confidential?” Rus’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of something considerate beneath the look.

“Not—it’s fine, um… Edge. My name’s Edge.”

For whatever reason, this seemed to spark an excitement in Rus, his eyes flashing a brilliant gold as he regarded Edge with upraised brow bones. “edge?” His tongue danced briefly over his teeth, and Edge could already feel heat rapidly rising to his cheekbones. “well, edge, you did very well tonight. while you lack restraint, that’s easily learned.” He touched Edge’s arm. His fingertips barely brushing the bone, but a shiver ran through Edge nonetheless.

“Th-thank you,” Edge stammered, “for… helping me.”

“of course, love. though i’ll admit, my intentions weren’t entirely pure. i never was good at resisting monsters quite as… delicious as you.” Rus’s teeth were parted, and Edge caught sight of warm golden magic pooling in his mandible. He swallowed against his own magic and quickly looked away. “my master will be very pleased to meet you.”

Edge looked up at this, eyes widening. “Your… m-master?”

Rus cocked a brow bone, releasing a small laugh. “of course. be advised though, he tends to get a little… possessive. so…” Rus leaned close, voice dropping to a murmur, “some details we ought to keep to ourselves.” Without warning, Rus cupped Edge’s jaw, kissing him gently. Edge could only gasp softly in response, melting beneath his touch. This time however, the kiss didn’t remain chaste, Rus’s tongue trailing lightly over Edge’s teeth. Edge opened his mouth without a moment’s pause, holding back a moan as the taste of Rus flooded his mouth. He could feel his soul stirring with excitement, and it took a great deal of willpower to keep his fangs retracted.

All too soon (though perhaps just on time) Rus withdrew, his cheeks glowing softly. He rubbed his thumb over the thin cut on Edge’s cheekbone, the touch light, but still painful. Edge held back a whimper, though he wasn’t sure it was entirely the product of pain. “though, who can say?” Rus mused, gazing at Edge as if entranced by him. “perhaps if my master finds you impressive enough, he’ll decide to share.” Rus leaned in again, and Edge held his breath. “i should warn you though, i taste exquisite.”

#expensivespicyhoney #my writing #dark pleasures #I'm afraid this one probably won't be quite enough to make your angst loving heart cry Bourbon #(in truth it's mostly just me being self-indulgent and using your art as an excuse to write this shit) #BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT #Because I really love Cash and I literally think I'm going to start hurting him soon #Hold me back

[dragonfics]

Dark Pleasures - Chapter Three

On AO3

Part One

Part Two

This is the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who has read this far. I don’t have any plans to continue this, but I’ve had loads of fun with it. I hope you enjoy this last chapter ^-^

Summary: Cash helps Edge come to terms with his immortality.

~Below the cut~

Chapter 3: Family

“hold ‘im,” Cash instructed, hoisting Rus onto Edge’s chest.

Edge frowned, but wrapped his arms around Rus nonetheless. His golden eyes were glassy, his expression vacant and unseeing. “What’s wrong with him?” Edge asked, alarmed.

Cash didn’t seem troubled however, shrugging dismissively. “happens a lot after we fuck… he kinda goes into shock.”

Edge stared, bewildered, as Cash slid off the bed and pulled his robe back on. “Into shock?” Edge looked down at Rus frantically. He hadn’t moved, though his chest rose and fell steadily as he stared at nothing. Shaking his head, Edge turned back to Cash. “And this didn’t strike you as an issue of concern?” he asked, sardonically.

“eh, quit yer whinin’, edgy. he’ll be fine. he always is.” Cash was rifling through the bottom drawer of the nightstand, and soon rose with a plastic bottle in hand. It was marked ‘replenishment’. “here, try ta get ‘im ta drink some a’ this. he, uh… lost a fair bit a’ magic. heh.” As if to punctuate the point, Cash grinned sheepishly, displaying the remnants of Rus’s magic that still clung to his teeth.

Edge took the bottle, eyeing the syrupy contents. “Honey?”

Cash shrugged. “his favourite. now stay here—and don’t let go of ‘im.”

Cash had disappeared into the bathroom before Edge could open his mouth to protest. Frowning, he ran his thumb over Rus’s cheekbone. “Hey, Rus, you’re okay,” he whispered. “I’m right here, I’ve got you.” If his soothing words penetrated Rus’s unresponsive state, Rus showed no sign of it, his gaze remaining fixed on the ceiling. Sighing, Edge slowly sat up, taking care not to jostle Rus too much. Magic still leaked from his bite wounds, but the flow had mostly subsided.

Popping the cap off the plastic bottle, Edge held it before Rus. “Look, Cash left this for you. It’s honey. Your favourite, right?” Rus remained silent, but his eyes slowly drifted closed, his breaths deep. Edge placed the bottle on the nightstand, sighing. He lifted Rus into his arms, pulling him against his chest and holding him there. “You were amazing,” he purred gently, smoothing his fingers over the back of Rus’s skull. “You were absolutely incredible. You know that, don’t you?” Edge fell quiet, pressing a light kiss to Rus’s cranium.

Cash soon emerged from the bathroom, holding a small basin of water and a clean towel. He sat beside Edge, wetting the cloth. “don’t let go, remember?” he reminded Edge, who nodded, frowning a little. Cash surveyed him briefly, before he began to dab the wounds at Rus’s neck.

Rus winced softly, but otherwise remained passive, his head still resting on Edge’s chest. Cash began to hum gently as he cleaned away the spent magic, occasionally stopping to stroke Rus’s face affectionately. “look at ya, love,” he whispered to Rus, tracing a single finger over the fresh puncture wounds on his vertebrae. “ya took such good care of us. you were so good for us, pet.” Cash continued to mutter sweet nothings as he dabbed at the mess of magic and marrow on Rus’s neck. Once he’d cleaned it off, he returned the cloth to the washbowl, before climbing up next to Edge and resting his head on Rus’s chest. He sighed, closing his eye. “yer alright, rus. we’ve got ya, okay? yer safe. ya know that yer safe, don’t ya? sleep, it’s okay…”

Edge peacefully absorbed Cash’s muttered words of soothing. Though they were intended for Rus, Edge found comfort in them. The past year of his life had been a living (or rather, dead) nightmare. It felt almost strange to be so at ease, but he welcomed it. He soon found himself dozing pleasantly, magic still humming through his bones.

He vaguely noticed Cash lifting Rus off him and tucking him under the covers of the bed. He only opened his eyes when he heard Cash whispering his name. “hey, edge, c’mere fer a minute.”

Blinking sleepily, Edge glanced to where Cash was cradling Rus in his arms. Rus was asleep, chest rising and falling gently. Edge looked at Cash, who appeared reposeful for once, his gaze steady. He nodded down at Rus, resting a hand on his chest. “put yer head here,” he said.

Edge frowned, puzzled, but obliged. He shifted closer, settling his skull in the centre of Rus’s chest. For a moment, he felt nothing but the smooth heaving of Rus’s breaths beneath him. Then…

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Edge almost flinched away, startled. But Cash placed a hand on his skull, fingers stroking the bone languidly until Edge relaxed. The solid beating of Rus’s soul seemed to permeate right through him—simultaneously serene and chilling. He closed his eyes and released a shaky breath. His own dead soul suddenly felt so cold in his chest. Edge couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull away, or clutch onto Rus and listen to the sound of his living soul for the remainder of his immortal life.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Edge only realised he was crying when he felt the cold wetness of his tears on his cheeks. He clung to Rus, his arms shaking with the effort it took to hold back his sobs. Don’t cry, he urged himself. He just fed you. Don’t waste his magic so soon. Stop it. You’re being ridiculous. Don’t—

“incredible, isn’t it?” Edge had almost forgotten Cash was still there. He glanced up, and was surprised to find the other vampire smiling down at him. “i used ta lie fer hours listenin’ to it.”

Edge’s chest heaved as he released a quavering breath. “How—how can you stand it? Being so close to a mortal monster? I don’t—I don’t understand how…”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A tirade of emotion seemed to have overcome Edge, and he was suddenly unstable. Shaking, he pulled away, wringing his hands together. Cash watched him, his expression almost pitying. “it can be overwhelmin’, i know.”

“Overwhelming—?” Inhaling sharply, Edge slid off the bed. “I… I think I need some air.” Without waiting for a response, Edge pulled his pants back up his femurs, hurriedly buckling the belt as he walked outside onto the balcony overlooking the city.

A cool breeze gave the night a biting chill, the wind passing straight through Edge’s bare ribcage. The manor sat atop a hill, just outside the city, and the flickering lights below swallowed the stars. Edge leaned against the balcony’s railing, fingers curling around the cold metal. He didn’t turn at the sound of footsteps approaching, but closed his eyes, trying to steady his tremulous breaths. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” he said, a strain to his voice.

He flinched at the sudden feeling of Cash’s hands on his shoulders, then turned in surprise as Cash wrapped something around them. “thought ya might be cold,” Cash said, shrugging.

Edge frowned at the jacket draped over him. “This is yours.”

“suits ya.” Cash leaned against the railing beside him, expression distant. He was silent for a time, but Edge still regarded him with suspicion. Reluctantly, Edge conceded to pull the jacket tighter around him as the breeze picked up, chilling him to his core. Cash produced a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his robe, offering one to Edge with an incline of his head.

Edge pondered them briefly, then decided to relinquish his distaste of the habit—just this once. “Fuck it. Give me one,” he muttered. Cash grinned, offering him a light as Edge placed the cigarette between his teeth. As he took a drag, smoke swirled within his ribcage, and he sighed as the calming effects took over. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to do this.

Beside him, Cash tapped his fingers against the balcony’s railing as smoke trailed from between his teeth. He gave Edge a sidelong glance, lifting a brow bone. With a sigh, Edge turned away, taking in the cool night air and the city ambience instead. He could feel Cash’s faintly flickering eye on him, and his bones seemed to itch under the scrutiny.

Though the smoke had dulled his senses slightly, Edge’s mind still seemed to ring with the sound of Rus’s beating soul. Thump. Thump. Thump. He couldn’t extinguish the deep-rooted urge within him that hissed at him to protect. It went against every instinct he’d developed over the past year. Mortals weren’t meant to be protected—they were meant to be consumed. Their magic was nothing more than fuel—their lives were meaningless to vampires. They were a source of sustenance, nothing more.

And yet…

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Edge dragged his fingers over his temples, teeth clenched. “How do you fucking stand it?” he growled, under his breath. Cash glanced at him, expression questioning. “How do you push aside your—your hunger when you’re around him? How do you stop yourself from acting upon your deepest urges? He’s not—he’s just food. I don’t—I c-can’t—” Edge broke off, swallowing. He bit back a whine as Cash pried one of his hands off his temple, cupping it softly in his own.

“hey, it’s alright, love.” Cash’s voice was tender. Somehow, this only furthered Edge’s frustration. Cash wasn’t supposed to be stable. He was normally so unhinged. Yet somehow, after a night with Rus, he was… tamed.

It was wrong.

“How is it alright?” Edge hissed between his teeth. “How can you be around someone so—so alive?” Something heavy seemed to settle in Edge’s chest, his breaths becoming short and laboured.

He didn’t resist as Cash intertwined their fingers, turning Edge quickly so that their gazes were level. “that’s exactly what keeps me goin’,” he said, his gaze suddenly intense. His purple eye flickered, not straying from Edge’s face. “if it weren’t fer rus… i reckon i’d have given up a long time ago.”

“But…” Edge felt Cash’s fingers tightening around his own, and he held back a sob.

“he an’ i are soul bonded, ya know?” The statement was spoken so casually, yet it struck Edge like a knife to the chest.

“W-what? You’re—with a—he’s mortal. If he dies…”

“i go with ‘im.” Cash shrugged, seeming unconcerned by the—objectively, rather daunting—fact. “a thousand years in this world, an’ he’s the best thing that’s ever happened ta me. if he died tomorrow… it’d be worth givin’ up immortality ta go with ‘im. he saved me from…” Cash trailed off, releasing a dry laugh. Edge was almost comforted by the hint of instability that had returned to his voice. “let’s just say, i was in a pretty dark place when he found me. not sure i would’ve lasted long if he hadn’t—an’ no doubt i’d have taken a few monsters with me.”

Cash turned away from Edge, falling silent. He gazed over the city, cigarette balanced between two fingers. Hand clutched around the railing, Edge breathed in more of the soothing smoke, trying to calm his jagged nerves. The thought of giving up immortality for another monster was… appealing terrifying. While every second of Edge’s life as a vampire had been unbearable, something had kept him going. The urge to feed… the force that seemed to drive his instincts. It had kept him alive. To let go of that…

“got any family, edge?” The question startled Edge out of his thoughts, and his gaze shot up. Cash wasn’t even looking at him, a tranquillity to his demeanour.

“I… used to,” Edge said, quietly.

Cash glanced at him, brow bone raised. “they die?”

Edge frowned at the bluntness of the question, before laughing shakily. “I did.”

Cash smirked, but there was something sympathetic beneath the expression. Sighing, he pressed the end of his cigarette to the cool steel railing, before discarding it on the ground below. “ya know, family’s pretty important. even—nah, especially—fer a vampire.”

“I can’t…” Edge shook his head, squeezing his sockets shut. He’d been trying not to think about his brother for the past year. After all, what good was he to Red now? He was a threat to his life. A danger. A burden. “My brother’s mortal,” he said. “I can’t… be around him.”

Cash watched him for a time, as if analysing him, his eye flickering over Edge’s face. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned, leaning back on the railing with his arms slumped heavily over the edge. “sometimes, havin’ someone who’s alive around kinda puts things inta perspective,” Cash said, slowly. “when ye’ve got nothin’ ta live fer—nothin’ but the will ta feed—life doesn’t seem that important. not yer life—not the lives of the people ya kill. it… empties you out. leaves ya feelin’ hollow an’—well.” Cash paused, regarding Edge with a small smile. “who’s gonna stop ya from fallin’ off the… heh—edge?”

Edge felt inclined to scowl at the pun, but he felt numb, Cash’s words slowly sinking in. Fingers trembling, he drew his cigarette to his mouth, taking a long drag. The smoke settled in his chest, but it no longer seemed effective. Gritting his teeth, he let the cigarette drop to the ground, crushing it beneath his bare foot. He breathed out heavily, tipping his head back as if the stars might answer his frustrated plea. “I don’t—why does it even matter?” he snapped, a little more harshly than he’d intended. “My life isn’t—it isn’t important. I can’t help people when I’m like this… I can only hurt them.”

Edge bit back against the tears brimming in his eye sockets. He allowed Cash to drape an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “hey. take it easy, edgy. yer worth a hell of a lot more than ya think.” Cash tucked Edge against his side, planting a gentle skeleton kiss to the crown of his skull. “rus could use someone like ya. i’m not…” Cash swallowed, a strangely pained expression crossing his face. “i’m not really good fer ‘im. not always.”

Edge glanced at Cash, a strained, dry laugh escaping him. “I’m a vampire—I hardly think I’d be any better.”

“’s not what i mean.” Cash held Edge’s gaze. He appeared oddly calm… perhaps uncannily so. There was intensity in his violet eye that almost chilled Edge. “rus an’ i… we feed off each other’s worst habits. when he’s feelin’ self-destructive, he comes ta me.” Cash clenched his teeth suddenly, a stricken expression crossing his features. “i—i should help him… but i don’t. i just do what he asks, an’…”

Edge was still, staring at Cash. A tightness had formed in his throat, and he swallowed against it. “And…?”

Cash glanced at him, a humourless breath of laughter leaving his mouth. “an’ i give in ta my worst impulses.”

The silence that hung in the air was charged with guilt. Cash was staring out at the city, his eye almost burning in the dim night. Edge didn’t have to ask what Cash’s ‘worst impulses’ were. After being a vampire for a year, he had enough first-hand experience to understand what a vampire’s worst impulses were.

Cash’s arm was still around his shoulders, but it had fallen limp, as if he’d forgotten it was there. Edge didn’t quite have the heart to remove it. He leaned into Cash’s hold slightly, murmuring, “I understand.”

Cash looked at him with something akin to a grimace. “i s’pose ya do, to a degree.”

“But…” Edge frowned, “that still doesn’t explain why I’d be any better for Rus than you are. We’re both vampires.”

Cash nodded his agreement. “we are.”

Edge raised a brow bone in question. “And?”

Cash looked at him, studying his face for a moment, as if assessing him. Edge felt as if he was being peeled back, layer by layer. Eventually, Cash spoke, his voice soft. “rus told ya hadn’t fed fer a month when he found ya.”

Edge frowned, but nodded cautiously, muttering, “Something like that.”

“impressive,” Cash admitted, tilting his head. “can’t imagine i’d have lasted that long. i’d have eaten my way through half the city before then.”

Edge grit his teeth, staring at the ground. “I’m… not very good at being a vampire.”

“no yer not,” Cash agreed, chuckling, and Edge scowled. “but… maybe that’s a good thing.” Cash raised a brow bone, giving Edge an inquisitive look. “i mean, i hardly think yer problem was a lack of food sources. ’s not that difficult ta grab monsters off the street—believe me, i know.”

Edge swallowed, looking down. Cash had a stare that seldom failed to leave him feeling bare. “rus could do with someone who’s more willin’ ta hold ‘imself back. someone with a little more… compassion.” Cash chuckled, shaking his head. “even if he doesn’t think he does.”

Despite the humour in Cash’s voice, Edge could feel the tears returning to his sockets. He cursed himself inwardly, and clenched his fists, trying to silence himself. But he couldn’t hold back a small whimper as Cash tugged him a little closer, cupping his jaw. He twitched under the deft strokes of Cash’s fingers over the bone. “tell me honestly now, edge,” Cash murmured, “do ya really think yer brother is better off without ya?”

Edge wanted to pull away. He felt ashamed of himself. Disgusted, even. He suppressed a wince as the tears began to trail down his cheekbones. Crying felt so beneath him. Or so above him. A creature like him wasn’t worth tears. Not even his own.

But Cash’s stare was firm and unrelenting, his eye unmoving as it fixed Edge. “Cash…” Edge’s voice felt weak and tremulous, almost sticking in his throat. “I can’t… My brother’s m-mortal, I can’t—”

“ya can.” Cash’s arm tightened around Edge’s shoulders. “if someone as fucked up as me can be around rus, then yer gonna be fine around yer brother. ya don’t have ta hold yerself back from happiness just ‘cause yer dead.” Cash smiled a little, his gaze softening. “go see yer brother, edge. he’s yer family—nothin’ can change that.”

Edge was silent, allowing Cash to pull him against his chest. It felt… nice, having Cash’s arms around him. It felt safe. Easy. “Rus…” Edge trailed off, glancing in the direction of the bedroom. Rus was still asleep under the covers, his face a mask of peace. “He’s your family, isn’t he?”

Cash nodded, fondness creeping into his expression as he cast a glance over his shoulder. “he is. and… you can be too—if ya like.”

Edge contemplated, staring at the trees beneath the balcony, swaying in the gentle breeze. “I think…” He drew in a long breath, composing himself. “I think I should see if my old family wants me back first,” he said at last, resolution in his voice.

This drew a smile from Cash. “good.” He gave Edge a gentle squeeze before drawing away, heading back to the bedroom. At the glass double-doors, he paused, turning back to regard Edge. “oh, an’—if yer ever short of a place ta stay, ya know yer always welcome here, don’t ya?”

Edge swallowed against the tears prickling at his eye sockets, and nodded. With a final lopsided grin in Edge’s direction, Cash returned to the bed beside Rus. Edge watched as he climbed beneath the covers and pulled Rus close, his skull buried in the nape of Rus’s neck. Edge could still hear the faint beat of Rus’s soul—the steady thump that drove his lifeforce. But it was no longer an invasive or unsettling sound. It spread a calm warmth through Edge, and he closed his eyes, allowing it to course through him.

With an unburdened sigh, Edge turned his gaze to the twinkling city. He rested his elbows on the railing, and allowed himself to breathe; calm, still, at ease. He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, but after a time, he caught sight of the dull glow of the first rays of sunlight peaking over the horizon. The sky was still dark, but Edge could feel the warmth of day creeping into the air around him.

When light began to flood the sky, Edge returned indoors, drawing the curtains against the harsh rays. Cash was asleep, Rus tucked against his chest. Edge passed them silently, but paused at the door, hand hovering over the handle. He glanced at the two skeletons sleeping in the bed, and swallowed, closing his eyes.

Rus’s soft soul beats broke the still silence of the room. Edge listened to them, clinging onto the feeling—the tranquil warmth they seemed to channel into his own soul. He could feel the return of tears, but he pushed against them, quieting his mind. He walked over to the bedside, and hesitated.

Cash and Rus were… soulmates. Quite literally. It felt almost wrong to insert himself into their lives. It felt like he was intruding on something private—and so deeply intimate.

rus could do with someone who’s more willin’ ta hold ‘imself back. someone with a little more… compassion.

Edge allowed Cash’s words to flow into the crevices of his mind, allowed them to ease his tensions and anxieties. Breathing deeply, he climbed into the bed. The moment he shuffled under the covers, Rus opened his eyes. He smiled, but remained silent. Edge made no protest as Rus looped his arms around him. He shifted closer, the sound of Rus’s soul soothing him.

Tomorrow. Red could wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow, Edge would go back and find his old family. But for now, he settled into Rus’s arms, satisfied to enjoy the company of his new family.

#expensivespicyhoney #my writing #dark pleasures #GiveCashMoreLove2k18