Summary: The boys settle in, and lick their wounds.
CW: No smut, but smut-adjacent. Aftercare for Rus, dealing with dom drop, some funky power dynamics (nonsexual dub-con that transitions into consensual nonconsent in relation to vampire feeding), safe word use (in a nonsexual scene). Edge's issues with feeding are present, but we're not in his head. Dealing with past trauma, coping mechanisms, past mind control. Also Twist's general disregard for his own health and safety.
It's heavy on the comfort. Coping mechanisms being used may not be entirely healthy, but everything is dealt with lovingly, even the funky power dynamics.
In which Pup worries, Edge bakes, and Rus tries to keep his opinions to himself.
Story summary:
Set in @itsladykit‘s Atypical verse.
Sirens are stubborn. Aggressive. Solitary. Entirely unfamiliar with the concept of familial bonds, and entirely uninterested in the existence or wellbeing of other creatures. It’s not a flaw, it’s just how they are, but it doesn’t do much to promote the continuation of the species.
Biology is highly invested in the continuation of species. Biology can deal with stubborn sirens. It knows just how to optimize a reproductive process – the timing, the allowable variation, the cooperation of participants. In some species, it’s easy – family structures, fondness for offspring, an instinctual nudge or two, a limited capacity for higher order thinking. There’s room for flexibility in those species. But with sirens, stubborn, solitary, highly intelligent sirens, biology takes a firmer hand.
Siren reproduction is entirely directed by instinct – very powerful, highly inflexible instinct. It’s perfectly optimized, from the timing of gene activation to subconscious, undeniable instinctual drives. Sirens don’t mind – biology has integrated itself quite seamlessly into their lives. Cash has certainly never cared. But then, Cash hasn’t realized quite how much his life has changed… or how slowly millennia-old biology adapts.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
A day at the beach, pt. 2
CW: Story-typical references to drowning, PTSD, and murder.
A/N: A big thanks to @maddieblay . They posted this amazing comic years ago, and it definitely sparked this chapter, though you can see I have deviated WILDLY from their original idea. I hope you enjoy regardless. ^_^
-
Cash looked up from the bottom of the pool as the dragon came to sit by the edge. His good socket narrowed as the dragon’s legs broke the surface to dangle in the water.
He wasn’t that stupid, was he?
Cash lashed his tail, propelling himself upward. He trailed a hand over the dragon’s leg—reminding him of his foolishness—before breaking the surface to glare up at him. The damn dragon just grinned, unaffected by the implied threat. Cash was sorely tempted to drag him down for that alone.
“Heya, sweetheart. Wan’ed ta talk ta ya.”
Cash snorted, ready to dive back down. The dragon may want to talk to him, but Cash had nothing to—
“’M takin’ Pup ta the beach. See the ocean. Thought maybe ya’d wanna come with us.” Cash stared at him, not sure he’d heard correctly. “I mean, ya don’ gotta, if ya don’ wanna. Jus’ thought ya might—”
His hand shot out, gripping the dragon by the front of his jacket. He couldn’t sign with one hand occupied, but he hoped his glare was fierce enough to convey his meaning. Infuriatingly, the dragon just smiled and nodded. “Thought so.”
For his smugness, Cash him into the pool. He gripped him around the ribcage, using his weight—and the dragon’s own heavy bones—to drag him down to the bottom. The dragon’s sockets went wide, and his hands tightened around Cash’s ribs. He stared up at the water’s surface, bubbles streaming from his mouth and nasal aperture. Then his bones elongated, and the dragon’s huge talons closed over his torso, gripping him as they rocketed out of the water. Cash shook his head, blinking. Water streamed from the dragon’s bones, and torn strips of clothing fell away from him. He stood upright in the pool, looking down at Cash from his elongated neck. He cocked his head, mana dripping from his cracked socket as he studied the siren held so carefully in his hands.
Cash swallowed, remembering all at once just how big the dragon was in his native form. And without an ocean at his back, the siren felt a great deal smaller. Still, he caught and held the dragon’s eyelight as he lowered his head and bit down on the finger curled over his ribs.
The dragon’s ribcage rumbled with a low vibration felt more than heard. Cash braced himself, only to realize a moment later that the dragon was laughing at him. Before he could react to that, the dragon sinuously stepped out of the water. He set Cash down on the concrete that ringed the pool, then inhaled deeply and lifted his head high. Fire plumed from his mouth, and Cash stepped back, hands upraised to shield his face. Steam and smoke billowed around them.
When Cash lowered his hands, the dragon’s head was right in front of him, studying him once more. The huge head nudged him gently, and Cash crossed his arms, glaring.
“oh,” a soft voice said, “are we flying? i just finished packing the car….”
The dragon stepped over Cash to rub his cheek against Pup, long neck curving around him so he could keep Cash in sight. Pup laughed, nearly knocked over by the display of affection.
Still glaring, Cash signed, “fucking dragon.” But that only earned a confused look from Pup, and more rumbling laughter from said dragon.
Glancing at Cash, Pup rested a hand on the dragon’s head, scratching the spot where his jawbone joined his skull. The dragon tilted his head, leaning into the touch and sighing . “i don’t mind flying,” Pup said hesitantly, “if that’s what you want.”
He looked to Cash, and he realized with a start that Pup was waiting for him to say which he’d prefer. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The dragon was watching him too, something expectant in his piercing eyelight. Their regard made his soul feel strange and fluttery.
He bared his teeth and snapped his jaw, uncomfortable with the feeling. Not looking at either, he crossed his arms and marched to the garage, making it clear he had no intention of letting the dragon carry him anywhere.
Behind him, he heard Pup say, “um…i think you guys need clothes for the beach. right?”
-
Pup drove—carefully, and not a little nervously. Cash sat beside him in the front seat, doing his best not to press his face to the glass and stare at the world passing by.
The dragon, sitting in the backseat, leaned forward. “Maybe we should go inta town.” Pup’s eyelights flicked nervously to the mirror, and the dragon grinned. “Not taday—fer the Market. Think Cash might find it in’erestin’. Don’ think he’s ever seen humans in their native habitat b’fore.”
Absently, Cash shook his head. He’d seen them on ships, seen them gasp their last as he and his brethren dragged them down to the depths. But he’d never seen them on land—hadn’t ever really considered what they did with themselves when they weren’t trespassing or treading in waters not their own. His fingers curled, pricking at the thin silk wrap covering his thighs.
The dragon grinned. “Think ya might like it, darlin’. They’re in’erestin’. ‘S fun jus’ watchin’ ‘em sometimes. Gotta be careful ‘bout it, though—makes ‘em a little nervous.” Smoke curled from his nasal aperture as he chuckled, sitting back in his seat. “Nex’ time we go, we’ll take ya ‘long.”
Before Cash allowed himself to be too intrigued by the idea, he turned to glare. Firmly, he signed, “i won’t be here for that.”
The dragon held his gaze. “They have the market jus’ ‘bout every week in summer, sweetheart. Couple more weeks, an’ we’ll go.” When Cash kept glaring, he softened his voice and said, “Tolja, ‘m workin’ on getting’ yer voice back, but the little guy’s avoidin’ me, an’ I can’t make ‘im come if he don’ wanna come.” Then he smiled and shrugged. “’Sides—who says ya can’t come if ya ain’t livin’ with us? I c’n pick ya up at the rocks, an’ fly ya in. How’s tha’?”
His soul felt strange and fluttery again, so he turned away from the dragon and sat with his back pressed firmly into the seat. He ignored the way Pup glanced at him, eyelights bright. Pup cleared his throat, looking to the mirror again. “um. which way do i turn?”
The dragon leaned forward and pointed. “Left here, sweetheart. Hey—ya know this area used ta be pastureland?” Pup’s skull jerked at the statement, though Cash didn’t quite understand his surprise. The dragon grinned. “Yeah. They used ta keep cattle an’ sheep out here.” He pointed. “If ya trek through the woods fer a ways, you’ll come ‘cross a burnt-out little cottage. Rancher used ta live there.”
“what happened?”
The dragon rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly sheepish. “Well, uh. Couple ‘a dragons moved in. Started terrorizin’ the flocks.” He shrugged. “Spent more time in dragon shape back then,” he said. “Takes more energy. Need more food. An’ cattle….” He shrugged again. “Cattle’re easy.” He looked out the window, putting his clawed phalanges to the glass. “Forest really started takin’ over when I brought the little guy in, though. Oak trees poppin’ up left an’ right.” He chuckled. “Ya know, they had ta negotiate with ‘im ta build this road? Buncha surveyors an’ government-types, trekking through the woods ta meet with ‘im. Had a tea party with ‘em an’ everythin’. Funniest shit I ever saw.”
They drove in silence for a little ways, until Pup asked, “twist?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“who was the other dragon?”
“Hmm?”
“you said a couple of dragons moved in. who was the other dragon?”
Cash turned away from the window, looking back at Twist. His eyelight had shrunk to a pinprick, and his cracked socket was leaking magic. He wiped it away. “No one, darlin’. Slip ‘a the tongue. Dragons…dragon’s ‘re territorial. Only time we ever live in groups is when a dam’s got a clutch ta look after.” He cleared his throat. “Hatch-mates split when their horns start comin’ in. An’ if they’re lucky, they don’ ever see each other again.”
“if they’re lucky?”
Twist nodded. “Yeah. Otherwise, they’d try ta kill each other, steal their hoard.” He scratched at his cracked socket. “Ain’t very social, dragons.”
“oh. that sounds…lonely.”
The dragon laughed, soft and dry. “Nah.” He caught Cash’s eyelight. “Dragons’re like sirens that way. Don’t get lonely. Right, sweetheart?” Cash swallowed. Before he could reply, the dragon pointed to road. “We’re here. See that turn off? Tha’s the one ya want, darlin’. I’ll get out, unlock the gate.”
He jumped out before the vehicle came to a full stop—despite Pup’s protests—and opened the gate, letting it swing wide to admit them. Once they were through, he closed it behind them. Pup waited, but instead of getting back into the car, the dragon offered them a little salute and scrambled up and over a rock wall—and down the edge of a cliff, toward the ocean. Pup sighed. “at least edge isn’t here. he hates it when he does stuff like that.” He shook his head and followed the bumpy road down a much more gradual incline. The road dead-ended beside the mouth of a narrow river, where salt and fresh water began to mingle.
Cash stepped out of the car, soul thumping strangely. He inhaled deeply, sockets falling shut when the scent of salt water and seaweed reached him. He heard the ocean roll, heard the seagulls call high overhead. His soul ached. Home. He was home. He opened his mouth to sing, to greet the water and—
Nothing.
“cash? are you…?”
He walked past Pup, down to the river’s edge and began following it out to the sea. The hard packed earth turned quickly to sand underfoot. It was hot between his tarsals.
The dragon was already standing at the shoreline. He turned just as Cash broke into a run. Wet sand cooled his feet, then chill water pressed against his shins, his knees. He sucked in a breath when a wave broke against his thighs. Ocean water sprayed over his chest, his face. The air smelled of salt, and when the next wave struck, he dove into it. Water rushed over his skull, his fins—cold and clean and tasting of brine. Mana wrapped his bones, and with a lash of his powerful tail, legs kicking in tandem, he cut through the waves, barreling toward the deeper ocean.
This was what he was made for. Salt and sand and open water. He opened his mouth, trying to vocalize, but again, his song was silenced.
His soul ached.
Not too far from shore, the floor fell away, opening onto a deep crevasse that stretched out below him. He paused, treading water as he searched the depths. Seaweed waved, and he could sense the movement of fish and other prey swimming through the thick forest of kelp—like an itch at the back of his skull. But as he eased forward, his soul started to pound. They were too close to shore for any of the greater predators to venture close. He knew that. Still, the black water at the bottom of the chasm yawned before him, ready to swallow him whole.
He stilled. The memory of barbed tentacles darting out of the deep made his bones go tense and tight.
A shadow crossed overhead, and he looked up, soul surging with relief when he saw the dragon’s silhouette against the sky. Anger followed quickly on its heels. Why should he be relieved to see the overgrown lizard? Why did he care?
And yet, with a last glance at the crevasse, he turned back to swim for shore. He snarled as he did, realizing his relief only grew as he got closer and closer to the beach. When he was close enough to stand upright in the surf, his soul finally settled, the rising dread slipping away. His claws curled into tight fists, fury vibrating through him. Had the dragon been in reach, he would have dragged him into the waves out of spite and frustration. But he was still sailing over the water like an overgrown kite, so Cash trudged through the shallows and sat in the sand. Close enough for the waves to wash over his tail and feet.
He sat and watched the water, wrestling with himself. How could he feel such relief at the kiss of salt and sand against his bones and such dread at the sight of darker, deeper water? This was his home.
Wasn’t it?
He heard the sand shift behind him. Pup approached cautiously, toeing the water. “is it nice to see the ocean again?”
He turned, sure for a moment that he was being mocked, but Pup was only looking at him with that easy, guileless smile of his. The fury drained from his bones, and he turned away, looking out to sea once more. His hands curled limply at his sides, burrowing into the wet sand. He squeezed his socket shut, trying to call up pleasant memories of the territory he patrolled—the kelp forest, the small ship resting on the seafloor, his gathered treasures—but he could only see those grasping tentacles rising to meet him.
The sand shifted again, and Pup gasped as he sat beside him. “oh! it’s—freezing.”
Despite himself, Cash snorted, his good socket opening once more. Still, his chest felt tight. Pup knocked their shoulders together. “you okay?” With his hands, he said, “you don’t seem happy.”
His fists tightened, clenching closed around a handful of sand. It ground between his bones, making his joints itch. Finally, he opened his hands and signed, “i don’t belong here now.” His signs were clipped and sharp, nearly violent.
Pup watched his hands for a moment, then to Cash’s surprise, he nodded. Looking out to the ocean, Pup lifted his knees, so he could rest his arms on them. “i get that,” he said.
Cash scoffed, and Pup looked to him. “really,” he insisted. “i didn’t…i didn’t have an ocean,” he said, “but i had…i had a family. a home. a job. it wasn’t much, but i had…i had a whole life before….” He swallowed, and pulled the leg of his swim trunks up, exposing his upper thigh. He traced his fingers over an uneven scar in the bone. After a moment, Cash realized it was a bite mark. When their eyelights met, Pup signed, “i wasn’t born a werewolf.” With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, “ ‘pup’ isn’t even my name.”
Cash’s mouth fell open a little. He’d known that, of course—or, some of it, at the least. But he’d never really given it much thought. After a few beats of silence, he asked, “you miss it?”
Pup shrugged. His hands stuttered, then—with a sigh—he confessed, “i miss some of my friends. i miss my brother. i miss looking at the moon and not counting down the days until it comes back. i miss having normal panic attacks.” He snorted.
“why don’t you go back?”
He shrugged again, resting his chin on his folded arms. “like you said—i don’t belong there anymore.” He smiled a little, and Cash followed his eyelights. Far in the distance, the dragon was soaring over the water in joyous twists and whirls. As they watched, a plume of fire burst from his mouth, and he shot into the sky, wings spread. “and i’m happy here. i’m happy with them. even if i could somehow wave a magic wand and make myself normal again, if i could go back without putting anyone at risk….” His smile softened. “i wouldn’t want to. not anymore. this is my home now.” He swallowed and added, “but maybe i’d send a letter or something. let everyone know i’m okay. that they don’t need to worry. that i’m finally happy.”
He lifted his gaze to meet Cash’s socket, and Cash’s soul started beating hard. He reached toward Pup, not entirely sure what he was reaching for. Pup seemed to know, though. He took his hand and squeezed it, still smiling gently. The bone seemed to prickle where they touched, the feeling unlike anything Cash had felt before. He eyed their clasped hands, not sure how to react. “is this okay?” Pup asked, and Cash jerked his head up to meet his eyelights again. He didn’t respond for a beat too long, the silence stretching between them.
Color rose to Pup’s cheekbones, and he looked away, loosening his grip. “sorry. i just assumed—”
With a sharp inhale, Cash grabbed his hand back, squeezing tight. He didn’t understand the warmth of Pup’s touch. Didn’t understand how his eyelights could be so soft, or his words so kind. But he was a siren—greedy, selfish, ruthless. He knew treasure when he saw it, and knew to hold tight, lest it be lost or stolen.
Pup answered with a gentle grin and began humming softly as the tide rolled out.
-
The demon and the vampire joined them shortly after sunset. They walked along the river—well, Edge walked. The sluttubus was using his wings to drift alongside, like an errant cloud. As his gaze fell on Cash and his proximity to Pup, a mote of red darkened his orange eyelights. Lifting his chin, Cash shifted even closer and took Pup’s hand in his.
The demon glared, but Edge just lifted his eyelights skyward before pulling him into a kiss. His feet drifted down, before settling firmly on solid ground. Edge pulled back just enough to stroke his thumb over his jawbone, capturing his full attention. “Help me with dinner?”
The demon grinned. “will i get another kiss?” he asked, already reaching for the pack Edge held out to him.
“We’ll see.” He released the pack, allowing the demon to take its full weight. He stumbled, nearly dropping it.
“cripes,” he groaned, now using both hands to carry the bag. “what’s in here? rocks?”
The vampire shrugged, using the edge of his shoe to draw a line in the sand. “Just our food. And a few bricks.” A subtle smirk played at the corner of his mouth. For just a moment, he caught Cash’s eyelight, and Cash found himself smirking too.
“a few—? why?!”
The vampire ignored him. “Twist!”
At the sound of his name, the dragon came bounding out of the waves, bones steaming. “Yer here!” He immediately grabbed the pack from the demon, slinging it onto his back even as he pulled the two into an embrace.
Cash felt himself bristle as the demon pressed himself into his dragon, going so far as to scent his cervical vertebrae. A low growl rumbled through Cash’s chest, drowned out by Edge’s indignant yell—“Twist! You’re wet—and naked!”
The demon chuckled, looping his arms over the dragon’s back. His hands drifted to his pelvis, briefly playing over his sacrum. “wet, huh?”
The low purr of his voice made Cash sit up straight, still growling softly. Pup looked at him, signing, “cash?” While Edge huffed and pushed the two apart, pointing to the road.
“The highway is right there. Absolutely anyone could see you right now! Keep your hands to yourself—and you put on some clothes! Stars on fire, you haven’t been walking around like that all day, have you?”
“’Course!” the dragon chirped, “Can’t wear clothes in dragon-shape, darlin’.”
“That’s not—” Edge exhaled slowly. “Never mind. Here. I need you to dig a hole—”
Pup tugged on his hand again, getting his attention. “is something wrong?”
Cash glanced at him but couldn’t stand having the demon out of his sight for too long. He shook his head, waving off the question, then turned back to watch the others. His dragon had partially transformed and was using his clawed hind legs to dig a deep furrow in the sand while Edge supervised. The demon—
Was staring at him. Cash stiffened, lifting his chin.
To his surprise, the demon smirked and reached into his pocket, pulling a cigarette from the box. “twist? do you mind?”
“Hmm? Oh! Sure, sweetheart.” The dragon leaned toward Rus, who leaned in as well. With more delicacy than Cash would have expected from him, the dragon touched his tongue to the tip of the cigarette. The end flared as the demon inhaled. Smoke trailed from both their nasal apertures, their jaws. They regarded each other, something unspoken passing between them.
Cash felt something coil deep in his soul. He swallowed, feeling flushed and unsure why. The demon tilted the dragon’s chin toward him. “thanks for the light.”
The dragon growled, pressing forward. The demon caught him with an expert hand, guiding him to his mouth. Orange and gold flared bright in the darkness, highlighting the dragon’s sharp jaw, the curve of their horns, the leashed desire in their touch.
Cash only realized he’d been holding his breath when the demon pulled back and caught his eyelight.
Rage immediately supplanted whatever feelings had been coiling in his soul. He stood, stripping off his silks as he marched toward the water. He didn’t miss the demon’s low chuckle as he left. Once he was deep enough to swim, he turned and saw the sluttubus had taken his place beside Pup. He’d even draped his arm over the werewolf and was kissing him, long and deep.
Cash ducked beneath the waves, swimming out to sea—though the water’s fresh darkness had him jumping at every little shadow. Regardless, he couldn’t sit and watch the demon’s display a moment longer.
-
“That was wholly unnecessary.”
Humming softly as he pulled away from Pup, Rus took another drag on his cigarette before looking to Edge. “i was just saying ‘hi’ to everyone.”
“You were marking your territory,” Edge snapped. He sighed and shook his head, looking out to the ocean. “He’ll be alright?” The question was clearly directed at Twist, but Rus answered in his stead.
“he’s a siren—he lives in the ocean!” Under his breath, he added, “i feel like i’m the only one who remembers that.”
“He doesn’t have his voice.” Rus’ skull jerked up at his tone, surprised to see that Edge was actually glaring at him. Edge exhaled slowly, one fist curling closed as he looked away again. “He’s lost one of his primary defenses. It’s dangerous out there. There are creatures that live in the deep—”
“yeah. like sirens.”
Glaring at him again, Edge said, “Creatures that eat sirens. Have you forgotten the state he was in when he arrived?”
Rus’ soul started to beat hard and fast. A subtle tremble ran through his bones. “no, but i’m apparently the only one who remembers he’s supposed to go back.”
Pup pulled away from him, standing. Twist looked at the ground, a soft whine building in his chest, but Pup was looking at Rus. He opened his mouth only to shut it again a moment later. Closing his sockets, he marshalled himself and signed, “when we first got here, he swam out. so far i couldn’t even see him anymore. i thought…i thought he’d decided to leave, even without his voice. but he came back. he spent the rest of the day here on the shore with me. looking at tidepools and exploring the rocks. we didn’t even leave the shallows when we went swimming—”
“you went swimming? with a siren?!” Rus whipped around to look at Twist. “and you let him?”
Twist just shrugged, still looking at the ground. “They were havin’ fun. Didn’ see the harm in it.”
Before Rus could reply, Pup snapped his fingers, signaling that he wasn’t finished speaking. “after he came back to the shore, he told me he doesn’t belong out there anymore. i don’t know what happened, but…i think the attack affected him more than he thought it did. more than we thought it did.”
Edge nodded as he signed. “It’s not uncommon,” he finally said. “I’ve seen it before.” He caught Rus’ eyelight. “Some wounds leave marks on the psyche, as well as the body.”
It was hard to hold Edge’s gaze as he said that. His throat felt tight, and his soul ached a little. Still, he took a drag on his cigarette and said, “too bad. he’s too dangerous to stay with us. we’re playing with fire as it is.”
Edge sighed, but it was Pup that said, “that’s not fair. he’s not any more dangerous than i am—or twist, or edge, or you. and he’s way less dangerous than the guardian.”
Standing, Rus snapped, “but we aren’t malicious! none of us go around killing people because it’s fun!”
“and you’re judging him based on what he is, not who he is! you haven’t even tried to get to know him!”
“why should i? he’s going back to the ocean! hell, if we’re lucky, he’ll go back tonight!”
Pup recoiled from him, and Rus noticed for the first time that he was shaking. His jawbone was starting to stretch into a muzzle, and long claws tipped his hands. He backed away from Rus, bones trembling as they started to lengthen. Rus reached for him. “hey. pup. it’s okay—i didn’t mean….” But he had, and both of them knew it.
Twist slipped past Rus and folded Pup into his arms. “That hole deep ‘nough, darlin’?” he asked Edge.
“It’ll do.”
“Right. How ‘bout we take a walk, sweetheart?” he asked Pup, “Stretch our legs a bit?”
Pup was nodding, pressing himself into Twist’s embrace. They held each other for a moment longer, then Pup pulled away, taking Twist’s hand as they started to walk along the tideline. Rus watched them go, his throat tight. “i didn’t mean to upset them,” he said.
Edge sighed as he arranged the bricks at the bottom of the hole. “I know.”
“i just want to keep them safe!”
“I know.”
“he doesn’t belong up here!”
Edge sighed again. “Will you help me with this?” he asked, standing.
For the first time, Rus eyed the hole and the bricks. “what are you doing, anyway?”
“Building a fire pit. There’s wood in the back of the car.”
Silent—sullen—Rus followed Edge to the SUV, and they carried back a bundle of wood and a bucket of kindling. Neither spoke while Edge arranged the wood between the bricks, layering smaller sticks, pinecones, and crumpled balls of newspaper at the base. “You have a light?” Rus passed him his lighter, and Edge held the flame to one of the balls of paper. Edge crouched by the fire as the kindling caught. “You know, I tried to kill Twist the first time I met him.”
Rus’ head jerked. “what?” Edge had always been reluctant to speak about his early years with Twist, and almost never mentioned his life as a mortal.
Edge used a fire poker to prod the wood, inching it into a better position. “Mm-hmm. I tried a couple times, early on.”
“why?”
Edge inhaled deeply but never seemed to exhale. “Because I hated him. Hated him for what he was. Hated that he was so damn nice. Hated that he treated me like a person, and not a monster.” He swallowed. “Mostly, I hated him for keeping me alive, when all I wanted was to die.”
“…edge….”
“I thought I could wear him down, make him hate me as much as I hated him. But he was so patient, so kind….” A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. “He wore me down instead.” Edge looked up at him, holding his eyelights. “I know you don’t like Cash, and I know you don’t think he’s worth saving—”
“i didn’t say that!”
Edge raised a brow-bone, and Rus’ gaze slipped from his, fixing on the spreading flames. “My point is, if you treat someone like a monster, then you can’t blame them for acting like a monster. But sometimes, when treated with kindness and patience, so-called ‘monsters’ will surprise you.” Edge stood from his crouch. “I’m not asking you to agree to let him stay—I’m not even asking you to like him. I am asking you to give him the chance to surprise you while he’s with us. Do you think you can do that?”
Rus looked out at the ocean. Finally, he said, “…i can try.” Edge nodded, laying a metal grate overtop the bricks.
“Good. Now go apologize to Twist and Pup. Take your time—the fire needs to die back before I can put the meat on.”
Rus nodded but paused to ask, “what if he hurts them?”
Edge caught and held his gaze, the shadows cast by the fire throwing his features into sharp relief. “Then he’ll learn just how monstrous I really am.”
Rus’ shoulders relaxed and a soft sigh of relief escaped him. “okay, then. i’ll give him a chance.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Their first meeting was not a happy one.
HUGE CONTENT WARNING
Hey folks, this is a rough one. I mean it. Edge is not in a good place and by the end of the fic, he's still very much not in a good place. I really think it's only acceptable to end where we end because we already know for sure that it gets better. (We're in the past; we already know what the future holds for him.) Anyway, we're dealing with suicidal ideation--portrayed from the POV of the suicidal person--and to the very last line of this chapter, it does not go away.
Additional content warnings for violence and off-screen (unnamed) character death, but the suicidal ideation is the big issue in this one. Please be careful with yourself and only read if you're in a good mental space.
I won't be hosting the story here because of the content. I feel better about keeping it exclusively to AO3.
I was looking through my sketches and got a fun headcanon: in Atypical Rus has a big possessive streak(not as large as Twists obvs lol) but one that has to do with pheromones. He rubs his face and hands on the other (tolerant) hoard members a lot to spread them around, probably often nuzzles into their necks when they're turned away from them.
And even though Pup doesnt have the same phero-sense Rus does, he can probably smell somethings up with Rus when he does this bc of his own superior senses
Oh, I genuinely really love this. Bonus if it wards off other sex demons. They're his, damnit. No touching!
Debating whether I like this idea better if he doesn't even know that's what he's doing. He just knows it's vital that he nuzzle into Twist after he gets back from one of his journeys, and it is absolutely necessary that he wind himself around Edge at least once per day.
Pup's the one that figures out that he's marking them. And, weirdly, it makes him feel better--he's not the only one with weird instincts he doesn't fully understand.
More Atypical nonsense: does the hoard know about the older Guardian spirit? Also, what specifically is Rus' beef with Guardian? I'm dying to know
The hoard doesn't know about the older Guardian, or about Blackberry. Twist likes to act like nothing bad has ever happened to him ever, and is very good at evading questions when need be. Edge has some suspicions, but nothing more.
Ha! As for Rus, it's pure pettiness. He doesn't like the little Guardian because he stumbled on Edge and Rus going at it in the woods one day, and now Edge won't fuck him outside or anywhere the Guardian might see them. (Which, considering he's an embodiment of the forest is...pretty much anywhere there are plants.) It doesn't matter what he is or how old, he looks like a child and Edge isn't budging on this.
Sex demons are also just...generally averse to children. They don't raise their own kids--they're a bit like cuckoos, except more complicated--and have generally no maternal/paternal instincts. So, for him, the Guardian is a cock-blocking nuisance and nothing more.
