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punkrockmads · 3 years

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Christmas Eve

I look over my shoulder, seeing my five year old daughter asleep in the backseat, her cheek pressed against the side of her carseat. I smile at the sight of her tiny blue plush seahorse held tightly in her little hand. I turn back around, glancing at my wife as she drives. I put a hand on her shoulder and she offers me a warm smile.

"Everything okay?" Yara asks, looking at me before quickly looking back at the road.

"Yeah." I nod, rubbing her arm. "Riley's asleep." Yara looks in the rearview mirror, a light chuckle escaping her lips.

"She couldn't go to sleep last night." Yara grins, lacing her fingers between mine. "Too excited."

"Yeah?" I bring Yara's hand to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You should've woken me up. The song always works." I say, referring to the lullaby I've sung since Riley was little. "When was the last time they got to see her?"

"Let me think." Yara pauses with a sigh. "Ellie and Dina saw her last year and... I think Joel and Tess saw her when we first brought her home."

"Wait, what about your sister and Lev?" I ask. Yara and I had gone to visit her sister Abby and her family a few months ago. It's hard going out to visit family since we live in the mountains in Colorado and they live in Wyoming. Ellie, Dina, and JJ live just north on their farm. Abby and Lev live about an hour away from them. My father and mother are further out near the northern border of Wyoming on their own farm.

"That was about three months ago." Yara reminds me.

"Oh, that's right!" I chuckle. "God, sometimes I feel like I'm eighty instead of twenty two."

"Careful, you'll start sounding like your father." Yara teases.

"Oh, God." I groan. "You remember when he saw JJ for the first time and said 'I'm so fucking old'?

"Poor Joel." Yara and I laugh at the fond memory. "He's gonna be there right?"

"I think so." I nod. "He said he would be."

"Mommy?" The sound of Riley's adorable little voice makes me turn my head. Yara and I decided before we brought Riley home that I would be 'Mommy' and she would be 'Mama'

"Hm?" I respond, noticing her seahorse has fallen on the floor. I reach back to grab it, stretching toward it.

"Are we there yet?" Riley asks, her big brown eyes hazey with sleep.

"Almost, babygirl." I answer, handing her the stuffed seahorse.

Riley's almost a spitting image of Yara. When Yara and I were nineteen, I found a baby seat sitting near the dumpsters of the old apartment building we used to live in. At first, I thought nothing of it. But as I got closer, I noticed the carrier still had something in it. A very tiny baby who looked to be only a few months old. Yara and I rushed her to the hospital immediately, finding out she had been abandoned by her mother.

We stayed with her as often as possible. Friends and family would stop by to check on us. They'd try to get us to go home and get some rest. We just couldn't. Not with this precious little miracle here alone. I remember her sweet little laugh when she saw us walk in one day. She reached out for us. That's when we knew this little girl would be a very important person in our lives.

After months of being in the hospital, the baby was finally back to a healthy state. We found out later that she was about two years old and, after being immediately bonded to the girl, Yara and I decided to adopt our baby Riley. We had been married for only a year, but we always knew we wanted to have children. The day we brought Riley home from the hospital was one of the best days of our lives.

"I wanna see grandpa." Riley grins, kicking her little feet.

"You will in a bit, sweetheart." Yara says as I look forward. "Hey, look out the window. I think Aunt Ellie has the sheep outside." Riley gasps as she turns to look out the window, seeing all the sheep grazing around in their field. I watch her eyes light up, a lock of long black hair falling against her cheek. She stares at the sheep as we pull into the driveway. When Yara parks the car, I get out and go to get Riley out of her carseat. As I'm unbuckling her, I hear the front door of Ellie and Dina's home swing open.

"Aunt Ellie!!" Riley cheers, running to her as soon as her feet hit the ground. Ellie kneels down, arms wide open. Riley runs into then, almost making her fall over.

"Woah!" Ellie chuckles. "Look at you all dressed up!"

"Mommy picked my outfit." Riley says, showing off her sparkly red dress and black tights. "And Mama picked my shoes."

"Well..." Ellie picks Riley up, grinning. "Let's go get your moms and head inside. It's cold!" Ellie steps off the front porch, leaving footprints in the snow with her winter boots.

"Is grandpa here?" Riley asks as I pull her backpack as well as another bag out of the trunk. Yara grabs our suitcase, kissing me on the cheek as I close the trunk.

"Should be soon." Ellie assures, putting Riley down. I sling the backpacks over either shoulder before hugging Ellie with a tired sigh.

"It's so good to see you again." I say, happy to finally be able to visit my sister.

"It's good to see you guys, too." Ellie says, moving to give Yara a hug. "Let's head inside. It's gonna get really cold soon." Riley is already two steps ahead of us, making her way inside and running over to Dina. I follow Ellie and Yara inside, immediately noticing the beautiful Christmas decorations. Lights strung up around every doorframe, paper snowflakes of all different sizes taped to the wall and hung from the ceiling, family photos placed on every shelf, and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree with a picture of Ellie, Dina, and JJ when he was just a baby resting nearly in the center.

"Beautiful as always, you two." I hum. "It looks even better than last year!"

"Hey, guys!" Dina calls, walking out of the kitchen with Riley on her hip. "Good to see you!" She hugs Yara and I while still holding Riley. "God, it's only been a year and you've gotten so big!" She laughs, smiling at Riley.

"I'm five now! I'm almost an adult!" Riley states matter of factly.

"You are so smart!" Dina laughs. "I hope you're not too grown up to play with JJ. He's only a year younger than you."

"Where is he?" Riley asks. Dina sets her down.

"I think he's in his room. Why don't you go up and see him?" Riley looks up at Yara and I, silently asking for permission.

"Go ahead! It's okay!" Yara assures and Riley runs off. "Be careful on the stairs, please!" Yara shouts after her. We watch Riley climb up the stairs, holding on to the railing just like I taught her. She's a bit too small to reach the actual rail itself so she clings to the siding. I set the bags down, taking Yara's coat off and hanging it up for her before doing the same with mine.

"Cute sweater, Mads." Ellie says as I pick up the bags.

"Thanks, I stole it from Yara." I laugh, glancing at the pale blue sweater I wore specifically because it belongs to my wife.

"God, you're like Dina!" Ellie chuckles. "She steals my clothes all the damn time!"

"I do not!" Dina cuts in, nudging Ellie.

"Whose flannel is that?" Ellie asks knowingly as she tugs on the sleeve of the pale grey flannel.

"....Yours." Dina groans, swatting Ellie's hand away. "Here. I can take your bags." She offers.

"Oh no, that's okay!" I assure. "Yara and I can take them to the guest room." Dina nods, squeezing Ellie's hand.

"Alright. I'm gonna go finish up dinner." Dina sighs. "Come help me, babe?" She asks Ellie.

"Course." Ellie smiles, following Dina into the kitchen. I head to the guest bedroom, Yara following close behind. The usual grey bedding has been replaced by a dark blue comforter with large white snowflakes and four matching pillows. A porcelain snowman sits on the nightstand beside the lamp. As I turn around to head back out, I bump into Yara.

"Oh!-" I'm about to apologize when she crashes her lips against mine in a hard, loving kiss. Her arms wrap around my waist, holding me close. My eyes close, arms moving to wrap loosely around her neck. She pulls away with a soft chuckle as I take a breath. She smiles at me, resting her forehead on mine as she tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. I place a hand on her warm cheek, feeling the way she leans into my touch.

"I love you, honeybee." Yara mumbles, pecking my lips once more.

"I love you too, my angel." I hum. "It's so nice to be able to spend Christmas with everyone this year."

"It is." Yara agrees. We stay there for a peaceful moment, enjoying the quiet before the front door opens again.

"Hello!" An old but familiar voice calls out. Dad! I kiss Yara once more, taking her hand and leading her back into the living room. My father stands at the door, taking his coat off. Ellie and Dina walk in from the kitchen. Ellie walks up to Dad, hugging him. "Hey, kiddo!" Dad greets. "This place looks amazing!"

"Thanks, dad." Ellie says as Dad hugs Dina. As soon as he lets go, I run up and hug him. I haven't seen him in four months when I came up to help him and my mom on their farm. I feel myself tearing up.

"How the hell did we get here before you?" I chuckle, sniffling a bit. "You live an hour away from here."

"It's good to see you too, babygirl." Dad laughs, patting my back. "God, y'all have grown up. Stop makin' me feel old."

"Where's mom?" I ask, watching him hug Yara.

"She's outside talkin' with Abby and Lev. Got here when we did." Dad explains. "Where are my grandkids?" Dad looks around, finding no sign of his grandchildren. "Riley! JJ!" Suddenly, we hear the sound of two pairs of feet running to the stairs.

"Grandpa!" Riley cheers, a wide grin on her face.

"Don't run down the stairs!" I warn, afraid she might get hurt. I look away when the door opens, Mom walking in followed by Abby and Tess. I look back a second later to see my daughter jumping from the middle stair. I gasp, getting ready to yell when Dad catches her. I let out a relieved sigh, looking to Yara to see she had the same reaction as me.

"Don't you scare your mamas like that again, peanut!" Dad chuckles, squeezing Riley and ruffling her hair as she giggles.

"Never again." Yara sighs as I take Riley from Dad.

"I'm sorry." Riley says, hanging onto my forearms. "I won't do it again."

"Good." I nod, adjusting her on my hip. "You're forgiven. Now go see grandma."

"C'mere, Jellybeans." Mom says, kneeling down to hug Riley and JJ. "You're both getting so big!!"

"Are your bags still in the car?" I ask, noticing my parents didn't have overnight bags.

"Yeah." Mom answers. "Hey, how are we gonna fit everyone in here tonight?" She asks, standing up and pulling her coat off.

"Yara and I are gonna sleep in the den with the kids." I answer, hugging my mother. "It's so good to see you guys." I hug Abby and Lev. "Hey, can you stop being taller than me?" I joke with Lev.

"I'm only taller by an inch." He laughs.

"Yeah, and I envy that." I laugh with him. "You're gonna stay out here with us right?"

"Like always." Lev nods as Yara pulls him into a hug.

"Missed you, loser." Yara teases, hugging her brother.

"Missed you too." Lev replies. "Let go, you're squishing me!" Yara laughs, letting go and offering to take her siblings' bags to one of the guest rooms.

"Nah, I got this." Abby says, grabbing their bags.

"Hey, Abby?" Dina calls. "Have you asked out that girl from the cafe yet?" Abby doesn't bother turning around, playfully holding a middle finger up in the air.

"I'm TRYING!" Abby laughs. "Not everyone is as confident as you, Dina!"

"Yeah, she's not as confident as you think." Ellie cuts in, grinning at Dina's teasing glare. Everyone jumps when the front door swings wide open.

"What's up, bitches?!" Manny screams, an exhausted Jesse following close behind. Manny is wearing one of the brightest green Christmas sweaters I've ever seen.

"LANGUAGE!!" Yara reminds him, gesturing to Riley who has found her way back into my dad's arms and JJ who clings to Ellie's leg as she walks around the house helping Dina and I get things set up.

"Right, sorry!" Manny apologizes, forgetting there are small children in the room. Jesse laughs, putting a hand on Manny's shoulder.

"I'm about to make this house a little less full if you use that language in front if my kid again, Emmanuel." I say, only half joking.

"Yes ma'am." Manny nods with a half smile.

"Okay, everyone's here!" Dina cheers, setting up a camera. "Let's take some terrible Christmas photos and then we can have a great time, yeah?"

As the day passes by, the snow outside falls, covering the ground and the rooftops in a cold, white blanket. Ellie's gotten all of the sheep back inside the barn with a little help from JJ. The two walk back inside. Well, JJ kind of waddles. His snowsuit is a tiny bit big on him.

"It's cold out there." Ellie shivers, helping JJ out of his snowsuit before taking off her coat and boots. She picks up JJ as Dina walks over, wrapping a blanket around the two of them and kissing Ellie. "Thanks babe." Ellie says as Dina ruffles JJ's hair.

Mom and dad sit on the couch, dad's arm wrapped around mom, Riley sitting on his lap playing with her seahorse. Dad talks to Riley about why her seahorse is blue while mom talks with Manny and Jesse about the cruise they plan on taking for Christmas. Yara, Lev, Abby and I gather around the dining table playing UNO since it's not a good idea to play Poker around Riley. She's very smart for her age but Yara and I both agreed that she shouldn't be around when games like that are played. We made that mistake already with Cards Against Humanity.

"UNO!!" Lev yells, setting a card in the pile. We all laugh at Abby's wide eyed expression.

"How-" Abby stutters. "I HAVE LIKE TWENTY CARDS!! YOU'RE CHEATING!!" We laugh louder at her frustration as she begins to laugh at herself.

"I'm not cheating!" Lev defends himself. "Mads, tell her I'm not cheating!"

"Oh, you're probably cheating." I tease him, setting another card down. "UNO, by the way."

"YOU'RE CHEATING, TOO!!" Abby yells, her and Lev laughing so hard their faces turn red.

"Maddy, stop cheating!" Dad jokes from the couch. Ellie hands a sleeping JJ to Jesse, sitting beside dad. Jesse holds his sleeping son close, Manny watching in awe beside him.

"Jesse, we need a kid." Manny mumbles.

"Absolutely not." Jesse chuckles, rubbing JJ's back. "This little guy is plenty." Manny grins, wrapping an arm around Jesse.

"Babe." Yara nudges me gently, pulling my attention back to the game. "Your turn." I take a split second to look at the pile of cards and then the card in my hand before slamming the card down.

"And, I just won!!" I cheer, standing up and raising my hands in the air.

"No!!" Lev yells. "I was cheating and I STILL lost?!"

"You WERE cheating!!" Abby yells back. "We're FAMILY!!"

"Alright." Dad sighs, standing up and picking up Riley. "I think it's time we show your mommy how it's done."

"Bring it, old man." I tease, waving him over. He chuckles, looking at Riley.

"Whaddya say, peanut?" He asks her as her eyes light up.

"Yes!" Riley nods, pulling on the sleeve of his grey flannel. Dad nods, carrying Riley over and sitting at the table with her in his lap.

"Hey, all of you are playing! Get over here!" Lev orders, looking around at everyone.

"I'm holding my sleeping son, Lev." Jesse points out, looking at JJ with a small grin.

"Oh, hang on!" Dina rushes off into the den, coming back with the baby wrap they got before JJ was born. She helps Jesse put it on, making sure JJ is secure as he sleeps soundly in his dad's arms. "Alright, let's play."

A little while later, Dad slams his last card down. "We won!!" He yells, Riley cheering along. Surprisingly, JJ stays sound asleep.

"BY CHEATING!!" Lev yells, making Riley giggle.

"Just because we beat you doesn't mean you can accuse us of cheatin'." Dad laughs. Everyone goes off to do their own things again while Ellie and I pick up the cards.

"Riley's so much like you." Ellie says, closing the game box.

"Yeah, it's scary." I chuckle, watching my daughter climb on Dad's back.

"Hey, crazy!" Riley says, using the nickname she's come up with for her grandpa. "Play a song?" Uh oh. How can you deny a cute little face like that?

"Alright, peanut." Dad agrees, standing up. "Here, you go to mommy while I grab Aunt Ellie's guitar." Dad hands Riley over to me, giving me a loving smile before heading upstairs to find Ellie's guitar. Dad taught both of us how to play guitar the minute we were big enough to hold one.

After hours of my father playing different songs and even being convinced by Riley to play the Other Father's song from Coraline while she and Manny danced to it, everyone is beginning to grow tired. Riley sits on my dad's lap, watching him play different chords to show her the sounds they make. My mother leans against him, her eyes closed as she silently listens to the twang of the guitar.

Manny and Jesse have left to get to their cruise after putting JJ in his bed, making sure to say goodbye to everyone and leave a few gifts for JJ and Riley under the Christmas tree. Dina and Ellie sit beside each other on the loveseat, Dina's legs resting in Ellie's lap as they mumble about anything that comes to mind. Abby and Lev sit in front of the TV watching The Walking Dead. Once Yara and I finish wiping off the kitchen counters, she takes my hand and guides me to the couch, sitting down beside my mother. She takes my other hand, pulling me onto her lap. I wrap my arms around her, resting my body against her and laying my legs across her lap. Riley looks over at us with a big smile, pushing past Dad's guitar and climbing over mom to get to us.

"C'mere, babygirl." I chuckle, opening my arms for her as she crawls into my lap.

"Did you have a good Christmas Eve?" Yara asks Riley before peppering her face with kisses. Riley giggles, using her tiny hands to try and push Yara's face away. She nods when Yara finally gives in to her protests, placing one last kiss on her forehead. I hold onto Riley's shoulder as she shuffles closer, leaning against me. She takes Yara's hand in her little one, lining their fingers up. I watch as she silently compares them, moving my hand to rest on her back. Dad continues to play quietly, stealing glances at the three of us with his usual "proud father" look. Yara runs her free hand through my hair, her head resting against mine. I can feel myself drifting off, the sound of a song dad always plays for mom bringing me familiarity from my childhood. My eyes close slowly as I rub my daughter's back, the sound of Dad speaking to Yara finally lulling me to sleep.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams #abby tlou #abby anderson #dina tlou #jesse tlou #manny alvarez #joel miller #joel tlou #lev tlou #yara tlou #yara x oc!#tess tlou

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damienthepious · 5 years

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tuesday time for soft and angst and soft (and kisses)

No More Changes (I’ll Still Love You The Same) [Chapter 4]

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [ao3] [chapter 5]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, (tho not THIS chapter certainly), Curses, human!arum, (but not… because he WANTS to be), (it ain’t good y'all), Panic Attacks, Overstimulation, Rilla Is Queen Of Comfort, Damien Does Not Consider The Consequences Of His Words, The Keep Is Best Mom, Body Dysphoria

Summary: Lord Arum and his Keep have fought off curses before, but they have never dealt with one quite like this. They have never dealt with a curse while having a couple of humans around to help them, either… though it remains to be seen exactly how helpful Arum’s lovers will be, in the effort of restoring him.

Chapter Summary: Self-care is vital in times of crisis.

Chapter Notes: We all needed a little soft. And therefore this is. the LONGEST chapter so far. Chapter title from the song Riches and Wonders, by The Mountain Goats. However the song that best fits the general tone of the day is Soft, by Babygirl.

Chapter 4 - Guardians of a Rare Thing

Rilla steps through the portal and emerges on the other side in Arum’s workshop. She sighs in frustration, ready to scold Arum for trying to work in his current state, but as she glances around the workshop she realizes it’s empty. Is the Keep really that disoriented by all this? Did it bring her to the wrong room? “Uh, Keep? Where’s Arum? I need to see him.”

The response comes slow, and maybe a little softer than usual, but Rilla can hear the warning in its tone all the same. Of course. After Damien… Of course it would be afraid for Arum- afraid of Rilla, and what she might say to him. If he’s really as upset as Damien said…

“Keep, please. Let me see him. Damien made a mistake. You have to let me see him. Please, he has to know that we’re going to fix this. He can’t think that-“

She cuts off as the Keep lets out a relieved sigh, and she hears the shifting of vines. She watches as the Keep carries a mass of vines and leaves over to her and deposits it gently at her feet. She can see the shape of Arum curled up, nestled and tucked into the bramble. She can just barely see his face through the tangle of foliage, and his (painfully plain) gray eyes refuse to meet hers.

She gives a relieved sigh of her own, setting her bags down and moving closer to the vines.

“Arum-”

"Has he sent you to convince me?" Arum says, low and bitter, only half his face visible through the Keep’s embrace. "To present me with some ultimatum? Some simple human mathematics to bolster his case?"

"Arum, you know-"

"I suppose the numbers add up, when you truly simplify it, don't they? The happiness and convenience of two humans held against the desires of one monster- oh, and the monster's home, as well, but it isn't as if there is anyone left to understand and translate for it, so it does not really matter what opinion the Keep holds on the matter, does it? And besides, I am sure we are all well aware of the relative value placed on the wishes of a monster, anyway. Or- ha, or do my desires count for more, now that I am one of you?"

“No. Listen to me-”

Arum laughs, or chokes, she can’t quite tell. “A more effective curse than even they intended, I would wager. Weaken me, mute my bond with my creator, force me to face the conditional nature of human affection-“

“Arum. Damien is an insensitive ass, and he fucked up.”

Arum’s eyes finally meet hers, then, and it nearly breaks her to see the pain and hope shining there, the redness from the tears already shed, the shine from those that might still fall. Saints, oh saints but he doesn’t deserve this-

“What?” he says, suspicious, and Rilla sighs.

“I’m sorry,” she says gently. “I know- I know that Damien said some just- profoundly callous things to you. He’s- he’s just-” she shakes her head. “I just shouldn’t have left like that. I’m so sorry you and the Keep got stuck alone like this. That wasn’t what I wanted for you.” She pauses, biting her lip. “Are you- are you gonna let me in, or do you wanna have this conversation through branches? That wasn’t a judgment- whatever makes you more comfortable is fine by me.”

Arum looks away again, working his jaw soundlessly for a moment before he mutters something she can’t quite hear. There is a pause, and then the Keep shifts the vines around him, creaking them apart but not away until it opens a little window. She can see him a little better, then, see him shrunk in on himself, curled into an even tighter ball inside the embrace of his home.

She plops down on the floor beside him, because she'd rather die than try to pull him away from the Keep right now, and he tilts his head just slightly, though he does not move either towards or away from her.

"If the Keep is giving hugs, mind if I get in on that? Group hugs with mom are honestly the best," she says mildly, and it startles a weak laugh out of him, and after a moment or two he lifts his arms and the vines part a little more, widening the cozy space inside the tangled thicket. Relieved, Rilla slips in beside Arum, and the steady softness of the moss and leaves around the both of them is almost too comforting for Rilla’s worried mind to bear.

When she’s settled in the small space, her arms safely around Arum, she sighs, her brow furrowing. Arum very clearly doesn't know what to do with himself. He keeps moving his hands, slipping them from her shoulder blades to her arms to her lower back, unsettled and uncertain, and she realizes after a moment that he can’t settle because he wants to be holding her more tightly. He wants to hold her as he usually does, and he can't, now. He only has half the hands he is used to holding her with.

"I'm so sorry, Arum,” she says, and this close she barely has to do more than whisper. “We're gonna fix this, though. If we can keep from killing each other over methodology, we can figure out anything, right?"

Arum sags against her.

"I..." he hisses through his teeth, a pale shadow of the noises he should be able to make. "I intended to say that I have overcome worse. I do not actually know if that is true, this time."

“I mean, we’ve both almost died more than a few times by now, so…”

“And yet,” Arum mutters, his soft blunt fingers fluttering against her shoulders. He sighs. “Amaryllis, I…”

“I’m sorry, Arum,” she says again, steady as a boulder, soft as moss. “I’m here, now. I’m here.”

For a moment, he’s glad he’s slumped into her, that she can’t see his face. The line between crying and not-crying is becoming blurrier, and Arum is so, so tired. He can't even tell, anymore, if he's crying because of the near-pain, or out of relief because he knows that it's going to be okay because Amaryllis is here now and she’s promised they’re still going to fix this, that she understands how hard this is for him, or if it’s because even despite his relief at her presence, his thin belief that they will somehow make this right again, that still doesn't mean any of this is okay now.

"Of course-" he tries to straighten up, but she can feel the way he's trying to accommodate for a tail that is no longer there, and she has to force herself not to wince, not to let the heartbreak show on her face. "Of course, you are the only human whose mind I would trust with a task such as this. Brighter than the lot of your entire tepid species."

Normally she would poke him in the snout for a comment like that. Right now she just scowls, the look in her eye indicating clearly that she knows he's being snarky on purpose. "And you're not so bad yourself, obviously. We'll figure it out. We'll get your real body back."

Arum closes his eyes, sighs, nods against her shoulder.

"We need to get you more stable before you start trying to do science or magic, though, Arum," she says, and he grumbles but he is shaking, just a little, and he knows her stubbornness too well to protest, just now. "And... and then at some point, we need to talk to Damien."

Arum flinches, his eyes flying open, and then they narrow disdainfully. "No."

"Arum-"

"He- Amaryllis, I cannot bear to look at him. I cannot- Amaryllis he looks at this body- this stranger, and his eyes shine, already wondering at all the ways this will fix things, will fix his aberrant affection for such a horrible monster-"

His cheeks are wet, again. Rilla can feel her own heart cracking, and she wishes she could parse out how much of this is just the strange new body, and how much is the hurt. It wouldn't help to know, but- "I know. I'm sorry for that, too, but you know that he loves you, Arum. He does."

"Then why? Why look at me that way? Like he is already living in the future, where his days with a monster are past and forgotten? Why yearn for proper kisses, as if every affection passed between us was some poor imitation?" He scoffs. “He loves me. Perhaps. But it is always in spite. In spite of everything I am. Despite the fact that I am a monster, he loves me."

“Arum,” she says softly.

"He loves me and feels it as a flaw in himself,” he continues, sneering. “He loves me and feels himself broken because of it. That has- that has been thrown into stark relief today, Amaryllis. And I cannot push the question from my mind- if this is how he l-” he squeezes her tighter, and the pressure is all wrong, halved and without the cool touch of claws, and when he tries again, his voice has gone so very quiet that she would not be able to hear him if she pulled away another inch. “If this is the way he loves me, Amaryllis, in contempt of everything I am, is that- is that love at all? Is that anything like it? I have very little practice in this arena, certainly, but it cannot be- it cannot be this.”

Rilla can’t help but press a soft kiss to Arum's brow, not wanting the touch to be overwhelming but unable to clamp down on the need to soothe. "He's still caught up in how the Citadel expects him to be. He does love you, Arum. He loves you so much, just like I do, and he's trying. And when I talked to him he- he knows that he's messed this up. He knows he hurt you. And I know that none of that makes this any better, and I know that you’re really vulnerable right now and he tripped right into that, Arum, but-" she feels her heart clench, "but even if you can't forgive him." She stops again, and dammit she's not going to cry too. She's not. "Even if this is how this thing breaks, I think you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to tell him exactly how you feel. To tell him yourself how he hurt you, and if he wants your forgiveness he can ask for it then."

He doesn't respond right away. She imagines the ticking rattle that usually accompanies his slow thoughtful pauses and it burns like a hot coal in her stomach, and then Arum presses his face into her collarbone and clenches his jaw.

"Please," she says, just quietly. "We don’t have to do it right now, and honestly it’ll probably be better to let things settle a little bit first, but I don't... I don't think you really want the last things you say to each other to be... to be that."

Arum sighs again after a long moment. "I don’t… understand. You are just as human as he is," he mutters. "Yet you seem as eager as I, to restore my proper body. Certainly it would be freeing," he sneers, "for you as well, to love another human. That is- that is what I find most painful, Amaryllis. The longer I consider his words the more I fear he may be right. I only make your lives more difficult, do I not? My own pain and discomfort aside, would your lives not be so much simpler if I were human? We would not have to hide, you would not have to lie to protect me or yourselves-“

“But you aren’t human.” Rilla scowls, and she feels hot with anger. “It doesn’t matter what they did to you. You are not a human. You are Lord Arum, He Who Rules the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms. You are a monster, and that’s exactly who we fell in love with. Not some human. You. We fell in love with you. We fell in love with Lord Arum.”

Arum sinks further into her embrace as she speaks, his breaths slowing, growing more even.

"Love is always complicated," she continues, voice softer. "And yeah, loving a monster is new for both of us, just like I bet loving humans is new and strange for you. But it’s… harder for Damien, to let go of the way he thought before. I was never like Damien, though. I never wanted to fit into the Citadel the way he did. There's a reason why I'm still 'of Exile', Arum. I chose to keep that, and I chose to be with you. I chose to be with a magical construct with gorgeous scales and four arms and a tail and a bad temper, and I'm not giving you up without a damned fight."

Arum pauses for another long moment, and then he swallows roughly. "Amaryllis... I- you know that I- I love you," he rasps. "Very dearly."

Not going to cry. Dammit. Dammit. "I love you too, Arum." She closes her eyes, pressing her face into his neck, missing his frill, trying to let his arms and the vines of the Keep around them steady her. "I'm sorry we can't seem to catch a damned break," she says with a weak, wavering laugh.

"If..." he hesitates, "if you think I should... speak with him again, I will... I will trust your judgment," he murmurs, eyes downcast. "If you believe he will listen to what I need to say. Truly listen."

"I think he will," Rilla says softly, and then she kisses his cheek and lets herself smile. "And if he doesn't? I'll just go ahead and kick him in the shins, and then the Keep can dump him in the wettest part of the swamp to think about what an asshole he's being for a little while."

The Keep gives a satisfied sort of warble as Arum half chokes on a laugh, and if it sounds like a sob on the back half Rilla's certainly not going to mention it.

She cups his face in her hands. "Whatever happens, I love you and I'm with you, and we'll figure the rest out together. Okay?"

"... Okay." Arum leans up, hesitates, and then presses the line of his mouth against the edge of her jaw, and it's strange and stiff and awkward and she is not going to cry, no matter how much her heart is breaking for the casual nuzzle of a scaled snout. They're going to fix this, so there's no reason to cry about it. "Okay," he repeats. "I believe you. Despite my better judgment."

“Okay,” Rilla says, her hands gentle upon him.

“It’s not as if I could stop you anyway,” he mutters. “I think the Keep can hear you better than it can hear me, just now.”

Well. That hurts too.

“Alright,” she says. “Alright, we’ve done enough collective moping for today, huh?”

Arum makes a noise, and she imagines that he’s attempting to growl. “I am not moping, Amaryllis-”

"No, no, I think we both were, for a minute there. But I’ve had about enough of it, I think. And as cozy as it is cuddled up in here - thank you, Keep, I really needed this too - I think we need to get you a little bit cleaned up, maybe.”

“Cleaned-” Arum hunches, defensive, and swipes his hand across his face again.

“First thing you did in this body was to fall in the dirt, Arum, and your hair has literally never been washed before. And, yeah, I think you’ll feel better if you can wash your face, too.” She smiles, as best she can. Little things, just little things until she can shift her focus to fixing the one big thing. “That sound good?”

“I don’t need you to- to coddle me,” he mutters, but he makes no move to push her away.

“Look, it won’t fix anything, but you’ll feel better if you’re not all grimy and stuck in robes that don’t currently fit you.” She shrugs. “If you wanna call that coddling, fine, but I just want you to be as comfortable as possible right now.”

He considers that.

“Fine, fine. Keep,” he pauses, mouth pressing awkwardly closed for a moment. “Keep, can you… hear me?”

Another pause, perhaps a little shorter than before, and then the Keep sings around them, light and attentive, and Arum exhales in obvious relief.

“Prepare a bath, if you would,” he asks, soft, and the Keep chimes a clear affirmation, the leaves of their small shelter shivering around them. “Good. Yes. Th-thank you.”

Rilla holds Arum gently for another moment, then releases him so she can press her palms against their shelter, and the tangle surrounding them slowly creaks outward until they can clamber out. Rilla carefully helps Arum back to his unsteady feet, making sure that he’s leaning safely against her as she leads him through the new portal the Keep has provided to the washroom. It’s heartening, that the Keep is stable enough to do so without explicit instruction.

“Alright,” Rilla says as the enormous cupped-leaf basin that serves as the Keep’s bathtub fills with gently steaming water, “get your robes off, and then when we’re done I’ll find something that fits you a little better for the moment.”

Arum- flinches, clinging to the soft purple cloth covering his unfortunate new frame despite the way it still overwhelms his senses. “I- but-”

“Arum, I’m a doctor, I’ve seen like, hundreds of naked human bodies. It’s not even close to a big deal.” She glances away, and then back towards him with a painfully understanding look, and she does not say that she knows he does not want to look at himself like this, not bare and vulnerable, but he knows that she knows, all the same.

He huffs, but then he rolls his eyes. “I suppose that makes sense,” he grumbles, and then he steels himself and starts to pull the robes off, wincing as he goes, gritting his teeth as the cloth slides over his sensitive skin, shuffling it down and baring a decidedly uncomfortable amount of this soft terrible skin to the open air.

“Oh- dammit, Arum, hold on-”

Arum blinks and freezes as Rilla comes close, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and angling the limb so she can see his forearm. With no small degree of bewilderment he sees a distinct scrape, speckled with grit and purpling dark with bruise beneath the redder parts of the wound.

“I- when did-”

“Probably right when you first changed- when you fell,” Rilla says, her brow furrowed with irritation. “You must’ve hit a rock or a root or something, and you didn’t notice because of all of the rest of it.”

Arum huffs, gritting his blunt teeth together. “Ridiculous fragile body cannot handle a fall of a few feet? Absolutely absurd-”

“Hold still, would you?”

Her medical bag is still at her hip, and she starts methodically pulling out what she needs to treat the injury as Arum stands and scowls and shuffles his feet. Now that he is aware of the wound it feels sharp and strange, much more present than a similar scrape would have been on his scales. That would have merely been superficial, and certainly this must be as well (humans cannot possibly be fragile enough to take permanent damage from so small a mishap, they simply cannot), but regardless it feels so vivid. To feel an injury this much in his proper form, it would need to truly pierce his scales, not- bruise him.

There is a safety in the look on Amaryllis’ face as she attends him, though. A familiarity. In matters of healing her focus is always unwavering, a universal force he trusts without needing to even consider it. By the time the bandages are safely wrapped around his new skin, his new injury (do bandages always itch on human skin?), he feels reassured for more reasons than just the treatment of the wound.

Amaryllis solves problems.

Foolish as it may be, he trusts that she will help him fix this one.

“There,” she says, voice soft and steady, and instead of letting go of his arm, she simply slips her hand down to take his, brushing their fingers together with barely any pressure at all. “Now. Let’s get you in the water, okay?”

Her grip on his hand is a bit tighter as he dips his toes in, and it’s a good thing, too, because these damned feet have no grip, no claws or scales for traction, and he nearly slips on the edge. She keeps hold of him, though, and with no major incident and only muted grumbling he settles into the mellow warmth of the water. It is still… somewhat overwhelming, but less so than the cloth of his robes, and at least with the water in the way he doesn’t really have to look at his current form. He cups his hands in the water first, then, and splashes his face, as if one sort of water can pretend away another. He does… feel marginally better, after even just that little bit.

Rilla sets her bag aside and settles to sit by the edge of the basin behind him, taking the basket of soaps and other mysterious jars and oils that the Keep dutifully hands to her with a smile, and Arum tries his level best not to feel like a damned helpless hatchling, forced to rely on Amaryllis and his Keep for something so very simple as bathing himself.

The frustration must show on his face, though, because Rilla’s expression goes infuriatingly sympathetic again, and she sets the basket down and reaches out, gently nudging him forward.

“Lean back for me?” she says, soft, and he gives her a suspicious look. “Gotta get your hair wet before anything else,” she elaborates, and Arum works his jaw stubbornly, still feeling so unutterably humiliated for a tense moment before Rilla exhales sharply. “C’mon, you’ve helped me wash my hair before, just- let me do this for you. I want to do this for you, Arum.” She pauses. “Please.”

Arum looks away from her, his throat feeling tight, and then he leans into hands, allowing her to dip his head into the bath, the bizarre sensation of warm water on his scalp making him shiver.

“Okay,” she murmurs when he’s up again, and then he hears her uncork something, and then she says, quite seriously, “You have to let me know if it feels like too much, Arum. Okay? Last thing I want right now is to make anything worse.”

He grumbles something wordless, not really wanting to acknowledge the idea that a simple touch might push him past some limit, but she does not touch him yet.

“Promise me you’ll tell me, Arum,” she says behind him, and Arum is absolutely certain that he has never in his entire long life done anything to deserve this degree of care.

“Fine, Amaryllis, fine, I will inform you if this pathetic form is overwhelmed by soap, are you happy?” he gripes, and he is satisfied to hear her laugh lightly at his back.

He sighs, settling an inch or so deeper into the water, covering his shoulders, and then he feels her hands, just light at the nape of his neck, slipping up into his unfamiliar mess of hair, and Arum’s eyes slip closed without a thought.

It feels-

It is intense, certainly, especially when whatever soap she is applying starts to foam, and when she starts to work her careful fingers through the tangles, attentively working them out, her blunt nails dragging along his scalp, he understands why his humans- why Amaryllis enjoys it so, when he runs careful claws through her own hair.

“So, obviously, this whole situation is rough,” Rilla says suddenly, without preamble, and Arum scoffs at the understatement as he pulls his knees towards his chest, curling into a more awkward ball. “I'm not going to pretend that it's not, Arum, and I don’t expect you to be happy about any of it. That being said, though… you know, it doesn't have to be all misery and gloom. You've got a pretty unique opportunity, here!" She grins, pulling a hand from his hair and rinsing off the soap so she can touch his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the crook of his neck and watching the way that makes him shiver. "We'll get your body back. Obviously." She shrugs, as nonchalant as she can manage even though he’s still facing away, even though he can’t see her. "But in the meantime, you get to have, just, a bunch of unique new experiences that it's unlikely that any other monster has ever gotten to have!"

"Such as... what, precisely, Amaryllis?" He glances at her suspiciously over his shoulder, but he is leaning towards her as he resumes his former position, allowing her hands back in his hair and obviously more curious than he wants to let on.

Which. Saints bless. It's been so hard to see him this unsteady, this upset, and if she can just draw back some of the fire in him- well, he deserves to at least have some good in this horrible ordeal. Plus, gauging his reactions to new stimuli might turn out to be helpful in figuring this mess out, too. Rilla is a big fan of tasks with multiple purposes.

"Like... right now, like how you’re getting first-hand experience in how it feels when you play with my hair." She grins, and Arum’s posture goes a little stiff, his face a little blank, because it feels as if she has plucked that thought from his very mind. "You can see how it feels to us, to touch things with our fragile human skin. I can show you how kissing like a human feels, just for comparison." She pauses, and he glances over his shoulder again to see the slightly awkward tilt of her smile. “If- if you would like that, I mean.”

“A-ah.” He flushes dark. She misses the frill pretty acutely, for a moment, but it's interesting to have confirmation of her perpetual suspicion; Arum blushes easily.

Her smile softens again, and she cups his cheek very, very gently in her less-soapy palm. "We'll fix this sooner rather than later, so you'd better see what all this being human stuff is about before we change you back, right?"

“If… if you say so, Amaryllis.”

“I do say so,” she says, and he assumes that the smugness in her voice is a veneer. He can respect that. Her hands scrub across his scalp with just slightly more pressure and he- he cannot give the gentle throaty rumble he wishes he could, but he can sigh, at least. “Lean back for me again?”

He does as instructed, indulging the herbalist with a mild frown, and when his hair is submersed her careful touch works to rinse the soap out, and even if it feels just on the bare edge of overwhelming it is the most pleasant sensation he has felt in this body so far.

Damien always loves to say that their herbalist has healing hands. Arum abhors hyperbole, but at least in this assessment, Sir Damien speaks with precision.

He lifts out of the water again, and Rilla works something new into his hair, something smoother. Then she holds out a cloth over his shoulder, for him to take. “Here. Help me multitask and we can get you out of there before the water gets too cold.”

Arum takes proffered cloth from Amaryllis, but as she hands him the bottle of soap he fumbles it. His grip is all wrong, he no longer has to accommodate for sharp claws, and so his loose grip and stubby fingers are not strong enough to hold the nearly full bottle. It falls into the bath with a loud splash, and he snarls automatically and flinches away from the water that splashes up into his face. This- this absurd body, these hands. The frustration- the frustration he cannot even find words for, of trying to reach, trying to catch with limbs that are no longer a part of him, and he feels so useless as Amaryllis gently reaches around him to pull the bottle up out of the water and pour a bit of soap onto the cloth for him.

He bites back a snappy remark about how at least she trusts him with a cloth, if not a soap bottle, because she’s… trying. This is difficult and frustrating for him, but that doesn’t mean he has any right to take it out on her. She’s trying so hard to make this better for him. He knows she’s not… judging him for this. He hates feeling pitied (Damien’s voice in his mind, overly saccharine and indulgent and eager: I am sorry you have been so maligned, darling, but no curse could ever-) but Rilla doesn’t make him feel that way. Of course she’s sorry for him and he knows that, but she never makes him feel uncomfortable. She’s always rational and logical, never overwhelming him with emotions like… well.

He shakes his head to clear that thought and focuses on the feel of Amaryllis’s hands in his hair again, slow and easy. After a moment, he takes the washcloth and begins to run it over his arms. As he runs it over his left arm - careful to avoid getting the fresh bandages wet - he notices the skin there, just above his elbow, is unmarked. The scar that he’s… grown accustomed to, since his first meeting with the little knight, is gone. As if it never happened.

It’s… fitting, he thinks bitterly. He can almost imagine what Sir Damien would think of this new development. You see, my love, just as this new form brings a new kind of freedom to our relationship, so, too, are the old injuries and mistakes erased.

He bites down a laugh he would be unable to explain to Amaryllis. How Damien would thrill at the idea of that old injury merely ceasing to exist. How happy he would be, to know the harm he had caused could simply vanish from the world as though it never occurred. The harm, yes, and also- also the erasure would absolve Sir Damien of his heresy, that blasphemous mercy his Citadel would only ever condemn him for. As if it never occurred.

It would never occur to Damien that the mark he left on Arum would be… significant. A reminder of exactly why he lo- of where his interest in Sir Damien began. A single act of mercy, and with it a promise. A promise that Arum’s monstrous nature was not enough on its own to condemn him to death. A promise that Damien wanted him, a monster. Wanted him alive, if nothing else, and then more than just that.

Now even that simple, meaningful mark is gone. Just as Damien-

Well. Amaryllis does not wish for him to wallow in misery in gloom, does she? Why he is even thinking of the poet now- it’s ridiculous. He is being ridiculous, and all the while Rilla is steady behind him, hands holding him as safe as he can be in this form, and he should allow himself to enjoy that, shouldn’t he? He cannot say how much longer he will be allowed it, after all.

Because even if Amaryllis is correct, even if they can overcome this, even if this time tomorrow Arum is wearing his own skin again, he cannot say what will come of his- his relationship with these humans he has allowed into his home. Into his- into his heart. His two partners were intertwined long before they knew him, after all. If he breaks from one of them-

How could he expect the other not to break as well?

Arum feels his throat clench again, feels the tension in his chest that he is unfortunately becoming quite familiar with.

Arum- Arum needs to let her know. To let her know it’s okay. She has offered so much- so much gentleness and care, more than he could possibly deserve, and-

He may as well say it now, he thinks. He may as well say it while her hands are upon him, while he needs not look her in the eye. He does not think he would have the bravery to say this, otherwise.

"I know you have promised, Amaryllis, to... to assist me in this. To help restore my form." He pauses, and she doesn't, her hands steady and soothing in his strange new hair, working some mysterious softness through his dark locks. "But… but I will understand, if Sir Damien and I cannot reconcile-" he swallows, and forces himself to continue. "I will understand if you and I must part as well, in turn."

Her hands finally stop moving, and she pulls them away to rinse off in the water before she tilts his face back towards her, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "Arum. What?"

"I would not ask you to part with your betrothed," he says, and he still cannot meet her eye because if he does he will dissolve again to nonsense, because all he wishes to do is draw her closer and closer until she can never leave, because he is selfish. "If he and I- if we cannot endure this together, I do not expect that you will humor me alone after you are finished with the task of restoring me to myself. I would not ask this of you."

Her breath catches, and it doesn't sound quite like a laugh. "Arum. Do you really think that I would just-"

"There would be a symmetry to it," he murmurs, very suddenly unwilling to hear her confirm his suspicions. "A symmetry- you came into my life because I needed you to heal my Keep- if we parted after you helped to heal me- yes, it would be a rather logical arc-"

"I'm not going anywhere,” she says, her voice thick, and when he glances to her in surprise her eyes take on a determined glint. She pushes closer, lifting her leg over the edge of the basin and slipping into the warm water beside him fully clothed, despite his surprised yelp of protest, and she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tight. "I'm not giving you up, you absolute idiot."

"Amaryllis- I- I know you feel the need to- to comfort me,” he says, his new voice shivering wild like an aspen in a light breeze, “and I- I admire your kindness, you commitment, but-"

"Idiot," she hisses. "I don't know how things are going to work out between you and Damien, Arum, and yeah, I'm not going to pretend that doesn't break my heart. I'm not going to pretend it's not going to be hard, no matter what else happens. But I love you," she presses her face into his neck, the pads of her fingers digging sturdy and solid into his shoulder blades. "I love you. And I already told you, I'm not going to give you up without a fight."

"Amaryllis this… us. It's all so new, and difficult, and... Damien and yourself- you fit together so perfectly already, as though you were made for each other. I do not… I do not belong with you the way that he does."

"I don't believe in fate, Arum. I believe the choices we make create our fates. And I chose you, just as much as I chose Damien."

Arum squeezes his eyes shut. Why she chose him, he’ll never understand. After all he did to her, after what he almost did to all of them-

"And... to be honest, Arum? If... if Damien can't see how much he's hurting you-" Rilla pauses, and Arum can feel the tension in her frame, can feel that she's holding herself rather tightly. "If he really has convinced himself that this could be better for you, somehow, if he's really willing to be that selfish, and that cruel… I have a hard time believing he's still that deluded, but- if he really is... I don't know." She exhales, her shoulders drooping. "I don't know. I- it would be... hard. It would be hard to- to be with him, after that. I feel like I would need some time- that he and I would need some time away from each other, at least. To figure out how I feel about that."

“But-” Arum’s mouth hangs open for a moment, “I-” he pauses. “And if- if Damien and I- if we cannot reconcile, and Damien remembers that he does not wish to share you with some- some monster any longer?”

She scoffs, her expression going wry. "Frankly, Arum, I don't respond all that well to ultimatums. If I actually felt like I was in a position where I absolutely had to-" she makes a noise that's not really a laugh, "to choose between the two of you, I don't have the first clue what I would do with that. I love both of you. I love both of you so much, I don't know how I would- how I could possibly-" she pauses, inhaling sharply and visibly centering herself. "But. And honestly I very much doubt that Damien would ever do this, but if for some reason he thought he could come and try to twist my arm in some tacky "it's him or me" scenario- well, let's just say that I don't think that would end particularly well for him."

Arum cannot speak, not for a number of breaths after that. Rilla doesn't speak either, but her silence feels more deliberate. "A-Amaryllis," he says eventually, uncertain and unsteady. "You- you should not be forced to toss aside your bond with Damien, not for my sake-"

"I wouldn't be," Rilla says, and her own voice is even, now, her cheek resting easy on his shoulder. "I’m not saying I’m gonna snap my fingers and say goodbye, but depending on how this breaks- I might need some time to think about whether or not he’s the person I think he is. And- and if that's the way it works out, it will be a choice I make for myself."

There is no response Arum can give to that. He can hold her, though. He can hold her, even if it feels like a half-measure, less secure with two less limbs, as if she could slip from his grasp with barely any effort.

She does not want to, though. He reminds himself of that.

“You’re gonna get all pruney if we stay in here much longer, though,” she sighs, squeezing him and then pulling back enough to meet his eye. “Did this help? Even a little?”

“You helped,” he mutters, glancing away and feeling strange heat in his cheeks. “You always help.”

She makes a noise, and when he looks towards her again, she-

There are tears in her eyes.

“Amaryllis,” he breathes, and she laughs strangely, lifting her hands and brushing the heels of her palms beneath her eyes.

“I know, I know,” she says in a thick sort of voice. “I’m sorry, ridiculous human emotional whatever, I’ll have a handle on it in just a second-”

“Amaryllis,” he says again, and he draws her closer, lifting a hand and almost, almost touching her cheek. “No, no apologies, Amaryllis. You-”

She has been holding herself so carefully, he realizes. Spine straight, hands gentle, smile sturdy. And she has been doing so for his sake.

“No,” she says, sighing as if the tears are an irritating sort of imposition, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it, just gimme a sec, here-”

“I love you,” Arum says, helpless against the tide of it, and her breath hitches as he cups her cheek and thumbs away a tear and he- he hates this curse all the more, that it is hurting her, too.

She looks up at him (less up than usual, but still), her lips tilting wryly, and Arum-

Arum sways towards her.

He is accustomed to brushing the thin, inelastic line of his mouth across their lips in request, accustomed to allowing the humans to lead a ‘kiss’ as they desire it, but this time when his mouth meets hers he has even less idea what to do than he normally does.

He understands the fondness they have for the act, though. Why this gentle human curve is so intensely sensitive is beyond his understanding, but the strange sharp tingle of even this unpracticed, unsure kiss is like some sort of wildfire. Skin. However humans manage not to collapse from the intensity of every touch is a mystery.

He also realizes, with some mortification, that he does not know at all what to do next.

In his own body, he would-

He parts his lips, nipping Rilla’s bottom lip with these odd blunt teeth, and she laughs in surprise, pulling away just enough to meet his eye before she dissolves into laughter again.

That is like wildfire, too. Her laughter. The brightness it kindles in his own heart. He smiles when she collects herself, and she shakes her head at him.

“Ridiculous lizard,” she mutters, breathless, and Arum can’t help but laugh along with her.

#elle's writing #sky's writing #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #the keep #this one is SO LONG OOPS #also please god please tell us what you think i'm dying

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 6 years

Text

Breaking Bastion

Another punishment fic for the series. He's coming after EVERY wife because they all get on his nerves lol so just wait. Written for @bastioncarterstevens-udaku

**Edit: An anon was concerned that this could read as Erik being abusive, abusing his power without Bastion's consent. Understandable, but I'd like to say that Bastion is an actual character linked above (I didn't make her up). She's one of the 11 wives of the wifey fics and she's well known as the bratty sub. Check her out. She and Erik are married and he knows her well as her dom. Also, she does consent verbally and nonverbally in this story. There are other fics with Bastion and since this was written FOR and tailored TO her, I didn't go into the specifics of describing their dynamic and safe words. But in the future, I'll include a disclaimer or something to cut down on the confusion. Maybe something like this and the people who already know can scroll pass it, I guess.

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"You been hanging round Henny too much writing checks yo lil bratty ass can't cash," Erik grumbled, irritated. He gripped Bastion tightly by her bun and dragged her forward into his playroom, tossing her inside where she fell quickly to the floor from the force. Stepping over her, he turned on his camera and the footage immediately began to play on the living room's flat screen where the remaining ten wives were gathered. This show was mandatory viewing for all wives and Bastion would serve as the example to all that bratty behavior and explicit mention of other niggas would not be tolerated. Crushes were fine, but lately his wives seemed to go overboard.

"I leave y'all alone and this the shit y'all talk about. Y'all can't handle one dick for more than a couple hours and now you want two?" Shaking his head, this thoughts went to all the times each one of them tapped out, sweating and screaming messes. Pathetic.

"Y'all bitches want that nigga so bad, then go get him. Lil desperate asses. I'm a get a 12th wife. That simple." They hated that idea, he knew it. He had enough trouble with each wife seeming to have about three damn personalities depending on infinite factors. It was like juggling 33 women, and he struggled enough with 11. They wouldn't understand that though and he couldn't help his attraction to psycho ass bitches. Perhaps that was his problem. Charlie had been told him, but he ain't wanna hear it then.

"I ain't tell you to get up," he snapped at Bastion who was lifting from the floor. She instantly slipped back down, but he knew her annoying ass way too well. She acted up purposely when she wanted to be fucked into submission and most of the time it was fine. A little crack about his beard or head here and there, it was all good. The problem came when he heard her refer to herself as Mrs. Neverson as though she didn't have Bastion Carter Stevens-Udaku posted every-damn-where.

"Is he referring to Tremaine?" Charlie was shook. That's all her sisters talked about lately.

"Oh shit! How he know," Ryley gasped. She had a side bae of her own she was trying to keep low-key.

"It don't even matter. What's he gonna do about it? Nothing." Henny rolled her eyes, unphased.

"Oh you finna find that out right now, sweetheart. You hella faulty for that shit too," Erik spoke to the camera causing Henny to jump to attention. There was something in the room somewhere allowing him to hear the conversation.

"Then do something. I'm not scared of you, patchy ass nigga," Henny fussed.

"Skrr, this ain't about you right now. Shut the fuck up and listen," Erik fired back with a cut it motion to his neck.

"Aw shit," Angel's brows raised. Her man was advancing.

"Get the fuck up since you wanna test a nigga like I won't fuck ya tiny ass up." Bastion rose slowly to her feet and Erik's heavy hand returned to grip her bun, pushing her face towards the camera.

"Say ya new chosen name since y'all thought that shit was funny. I wanna laugh too, gone say it."

With his tight grip pulling painfully against her scalp, hesitation sat in her eyes. She was nervous, but she was talking shit before.

"SAY IT," he snarled lowly in her ear as he angled her face for the wives to see.

"Ms. Neverson," she spoke boldly. Showing off.

"Hm," he smirked. "You think that shit's cute. You want me to take my name back. You don't wanna be a Stevens or Udaku? Say the words." He waited for her lips to move but again she hesitated so he pushed her away again, heading to his collection of toys where he returned with a set of handcuffs and specially designed underwear she hadn't seen before.

"Strip," he commanded. "I don't want to," she combatted quickly.

"Bitch, if I have to say it again.. You gone regret it." Every fiber of his being meant the threat, but she'd still push him.

"I'm not afraid of you, Erik. Do what you gotta do."

"Hm," he scoffed, "Well now that I have yo consent."

He approached her and she tried to run but he grabbed her, and gripped her by the neck raising her kicking body in the air.

"When I tell you to do something.. I mean that shit. If you don't wanna be choked out on a fuckin loop.. DO what I tell you to DO." His hand squeezed her throat tightly willing to take it there. It took being choked out and shook twice before she finally agreed. By that time, she was a bit more sluggish. Her turquoise dress came off and then she reached for her matching heels.

"Nah, keep those on. Take off everything else."

The bra came off and then the underwear. Bastion stood with nothing on but her heels, diamond stud earrings, and a diamond tennis bracelet gifted from Erik himself and his eyes roamed her body in approval.

"Don't throw that shit on my floor, bitch, fold it and put it on the surface over there," he gestured to a chest of drawers. "And put these on," he threw her the panties noting her confused face. Every part of her body was committed to memory, but he still liked to gaze upon what he owned, watching her move fluidly back and forth. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't going anywhere. When she returned, new panties on, he stepped closer slapping the cuffs on her wrists, cuffing them behind her back before moving her bracelet to his pocket.

"Kneel." She completely ignored him, but that only made things more interesting. Infinite things he could do to her. He returned to his collection to grab a custom designed harness that he'd engineered himself and a 6-ft leather bullwhip.

"What? Um.. wait. WAIT NO, I'm kneeling.. See?" Her knees quickly buckled and fell to the floor, but it was far too late for that.

"I'm not afraid of you, Erik. Do what you gotta do," he mocked with a smirk before cracking his whip. "You done already said it babygirl." On one side of the harness in his hand was a moderately sized dildo and on the other side, a duster. He inserted the dildo end into Bastion's mouth and strapped it on tightly behind her head, satisfied with the occupation of her mouth.

"And this, my lovely wives," he spoke to the camera before pulling a remote from his pocket, "Is how you silence a brat. Simple. Now, Duster," he hit a button and Bast's eyes went wide as an intense buzzing came from the seat of her panties. "Do your job and clean this room. I want every surface in this room dusted from left to right. Start from the door then go around." He picked up the camera and followed her around as she walked in her heels, lowering her face and bending to sweep the attachment in her mouth over various drawers, tables, and surfaces. Pushing the button again, he smiled as she began to make muffled whimpers and groans and then she paused, swept away by the feeling in her panties. He snapped his whip hitting her ass and she jumped from the sting.

"Get to work, bitch. This ain't it." He snapped the whip across her ass again and she gasped, cleaning intently. "Good bitch. Dust all that shit.. yup," he encouraged capturing her from every possible camera angle as she worked. She looked like she was about to cum so he turned the vibration down and then off until she could move again, then he turned it back on.

"Can y'all guess the lesson in this? ..Since her mouth full and she can't talk?"

"Shit, you're a sadist? That's what I get," Josephine said, as the whip snapped again. Aly'sha looked at Henny who was staring down at her own nails, not wanting to look. "It's what she deserves," Aly'sha whispered unphased. She was eating Cheetos.

"You're cleaning up this house," Angel guessed enraptured by what was on the screen. Kimora was laying on Ryley's lap as Ryley stroked her hair absentmindedly. "You cleaning up this house and she need to clean up her act," Ryley said dryly, though her eyes were alight with humor. Charlie just shook her head, the same humor written on her face.

"That's right," Erik smirked, "And she ain't the only one. All y'all muhfuckas guilty in my eyes." A thick wooden paddle hung neatly on a far wall and Bastion's eyes followed his. She knew he'd do it. Wrapping up the whip, he switched it out for that wooden paddle.

"Now. I'm a whoop ya ass like you pledging until I think it's enough." Pushing her over the bed, she was helpless and he paused. "Let me make this clear. I don't care what the fuck you're attracted to. What I do care about is you disrespecting me and my name while you with me. You either an Udaku or you whatever the fuck, but you can't be both." He removed the vibrating panties and switched them for a vibrating toy egg which he lubricated and shoved into her vagina. Immediately she began to clench around it and writhe.

"You wanna fuck that nigga? Cool, pack ya shit and get up out my house.. Then plan that nigga funeral cuz you coming right the fuck back." SMACK. He swung hard for his first swing of the paddle and he knew it because the sound that squeaked from her spoke surprise. The pain combined with the pleasure of the vibrator would to help her see things his way. He landed another hard swing on the same asscheek with the same force and then another and another, only stopping to watch the wetness leak out of her. The endless muffled noises spoke pain and he landed yet another swing. He could do this all night.

"You been a pain in my ass forever and I can't be a pain for five minutes?" He tsked and moved to the other asscheek, evening up the tally on her deep toned skin. "You want some more? Yeahhh you want some more. You act up for this shit right? Or did you think I'd reward you with dick?"

He swung again, his laugh mocking. He probably looked like a villain to his other wives.

"How many swings was that so far," he asked into the camera already knowing the answer.

"Eleven," Ryley quickly supplied.

"One for all you bitches," Erik pointed the paddle toward the camera before swinging it again. Bast was breathing hard and loud. "Twelve for the bitch I'm finna get if y'all keep this shit up. You good babygirl?" He looked down to her tear-streaked face and held her nose shut for a few seconds before releasing it. She was struggling. He knew that gag wasn't too comfortable but it gave her something to bite down on. She shook her head, no. Aww.

"Damn, princess. Too bad."

He swung harder this time, lighting her cheeks up in ten more swings before he decided he couldn't go further without hurting her. He then massaged her cheeks in attempt to sooth the beaten areas, her wetness gushing to the bed as the egg buzzed.

"Freaky ass bitch." Unfastening the strap of the harness, he pulled the dildo from her mouth. There was a thick string of saliva stretched from her mouth to it. He pushed it back in roughly for her to gag on before tossing it to the side. "You nasty ass bitch. Roll over." He moved to grab the camera again and pointed it at her face. "Your name is..."

"Bastion..," she swallowed catching her breath, "Carter...," she gasped.

"Took too long," he said throwing her legs over his shoulder. The camera was focused on their pelvises as he stroked himself back and forth across her soaked entrance, teasing her and glossing the end and underside of his thick dick. He rubbed her wetness around his length before trailing down to her ass and breaching the rim before pushing in further, spitting to add more slip. Her mouth was stuck wide.

"You catchin flies or just preparing for this nut," he asked spitting a healthy glob. It landed in her open mouth and he laughed silently to himself. He had great aim.

"Swallow," he commanded and she did, groaning shakily, her eyes rolling back. Though her hands were cuffed behind her with her hips suspended in the air, she was still trying to grind into him and pull away at the same time, her orgasm rising to hit again. He held her hips still keeping his consistent pace.

"Nah, words. Be a good bitch and speak. Who's dick is in that ass?"

"..Yours," she breathed as he stretched her ass, hammering. He dug his nails hard into her skin.

"Nah. Say my fuckin name."

"..Y-yours.. Erik.. Daddy..," she keened.

"There you go, and who DNA you just fuckin swallow?" She couldn't help herself, she came all over him. And she had the nerve to talk about belonging to some other nigga. "You a dumbass if you think someone else could ever fuck you as good as I fuck you, this ain't even nothing."

He continued his assault on her ass as the vibrator continued. He wouldn't stop until he got his nut.

"Erik, she done. The lollipop is gone, stop sucking it," Charlie called. "Always extra! She can't even answer you," Angel empathized. He'd already taught her her lesson and she was on the straight and narrow. She shifted in her seat, remembering.

"At least he ain't breaking all her shit," Henny snapped angrily, flashbacks to her punishment pissing her off all over again. She touched her hair where he'd cut it.

"Shut the fuck up," Erik's voice growled making them all hot.

"MAKE ME," Henny yelled.

"I'll make you sleep in a fuckin box that's what I'll fuckin do. You gotta lotta mouth, but ya muscles don't fuckin match."

She said some other slick shit, but he wasn't listening. She liked to run her mouth a lot too, but that's all it was.. running her mouth, like a lawnmower. He knew how to block out the noise. All he was focused on in that moment was getting his nut. Time ticked by with him fighting off his release, liking the feeling of her stretched tight around him and finally he couldn't fight anymore. He pulled out.

"About damn time," Josephine yelled as he dropped Bast's hips, letting her limp legs fall. He pulled her bun forcing Bastion to help him by lifting as he pulled her to an upright position.

"I never wanted Tremaine," she grunted. "I just wanted to fuck him, I was curious.. that's all."

"Mhm. Be curious on these nuts. Clean my dick," he commanded and her lips attached to it quickly like two soft pillows, sucking him to his release, which she swallowed with no qualms. He grabbed her face squeezing it in his hand, her cheeks squished making her look like a chipmunk.

"I ain't even gotta fuckin ask you at this point, but I'm a ask you. What's ya fuckin name?" He looked down at her daring her to fuck up. The egg was still buzzing and that paddle could go another round.

"Bastion.. Carter Stevens-Udaku," she sighed.

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