#guzmanticore

Guzma, what is wrong with you?

It was the witching hours of night where the moon was at its peak. The stars shone a brilliance in the sky, all enough lighting for the Manticore to look down at himself. There was a reason why his kind were so prideful. They needed anything and everything or something to be proud of.

Especially when they just look like a mish mash of random animals glued together.

Guzma flexed his huge white paws, uncomfortably aware of each and every muscle and joint, knowing that they belong to him. These very hands and arms could rip through steel armour if he wanted to if he were in a fit of rage. Possible miscalculations of just how strong he was constantly terrified him.

He wasn't like everyone else. While no-one in the team is perfect, they at least had more than one redeeming qualities. The snooty Alraune was effortlessly beautiful. Elesa, despite her terrifying appearance, carried herself with grace. The slime twins? They can look whatever they freaking want!

And him? He was stuck like this. An amalgamated mess.

Why was he even here in the first place? The first time he encountered you, he went up and carried you off to his volcano. You had to be rescued. He was near death's door fighting against the twins when you stopped them all. You all were meant to leave after a brief peptalk, but he just kept.. Tagging along.

Everyone was very fast friends with each other, but Big, Bad Guzma had to build his way up just to get a smidgeon of trust. Was he even supposed to be here?

Guzma slouched forward on the tree stump he sat on, isolated from the others who were fast asleep. Cicadas buzzed in the hot, humid night and his tail twitched behind him, sensitive to the swaying grass beneath it.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Guzma looked over his shoulder to see you making his way over to him. You propped yourself next to him, sitting on the damp warm grass by the tree stump with your legs bunched together close to you.

"Nah," he sighed, leaning back. "The forest is so damn noisy, is all."

You snorted. He always thought you're adorable when you snort through your nostrils. "I never took you for a light sleeper," you smirked up at him. "Especially when you always conk out like a log after you 'siphon' my mana."

"Tch!" Guzma clicked his tongue and looked the other way in hopes to guide the blush that peppered his cheeks. "Are y'asking for a beat down or what?"

"Depends."

He honestly did not know how to respond to that. The intensity of your implications hung in the air until he finally muttered, "Y'all are stupid."

You did that adorable thing again; snorting before suddenly leaning against his side. Goosebumps prickled up his back, sending zippy tingles along the base of his pale scalp, his mop of snowy-white hair almost poofing from the sensation.

"Why don'tcha just wake up one of the other guys?" he asked, his tone unexpectedly soft.

"The crew needs their rest," you explained nonchalantly. "Especially Melli - you know how he feels about his 'beauty sleep'."

"You still have better options."

There was a pause so dramatically long, Guzma had to check if you were still there. Upon looking, he finds you staring up at him with your large, bright, round eyes, flabbergasted at what he just said.

"... What?" he sneered.

"Nothin'," you leaned against the palm of your hand, cupping your cheek while you continued to behold him in your bright, starry eyes. "I just didn't expect that coming from you."

Guzma's lips formed a tight, thin line. "What're you on abou-"

"What do I need to prove," you continued, placing your other free hand upon his knee. The worn, dark cotton of his baggy trousers felt soft under your touch. "To show you that you are as wonderful as the others?"

"Oh my god," Guzma tried to move away, the tip of his massive scorpion tail twitched unnervingly. "You're bein' weird."

He watched, paralyzed, as you climbed up from where you sat, straddling his lap with your legs wrapping around his waist. Out of habit, his large, pale hands rested on your hips while you rested your elbows on his shoulders.

"You can always tell me to stop," you reminded him, your digits carding through his silky, ivory tresses. A purr rumbled deep from his chest when you raked your nails gently against the dark sideburns. You smirked. "I'll keep going then."

"Shut up," Guzma groaned, goosebumps kissed up his neck when you trailed your touches down his nape.

"But how on earth will I tell you how much I like you?" You tittered, cupping his face, thumb gently rubbing the pink on the apples of his cheeks.

"I don't fucking know," the Manticore growled to cover the sound of his purring that was as loud as a motorboat.

"Mm, then," your palms glided downward, sailing across the fuzz of his massive lion-like arms. You pried one of his paws from your hips, bringing it up to your face and kissing the center of his palm where his leathery pawpads rested.

"What-" Guzma could swear he was back at home at the center of those goliath sized volcanoes, plunged deep in the thick, bubbling lava. "What are y'doin', girlie.."

You didn't answer. He did tell you to shut up. Instead, you vocalised by planting kiss after kiss from his palm, up his wrist and along his fluffy arm. You could feel the hardened muscles beneath his pelt soften into jelly, warming each time your lips connected to him.

"Seven swords, just say somethin'," Guzma's voice cracked as he begged. He rarely begged. It was beneath him. But you always never failed to break him in.

"Getting a lot of mixed signals, Guzzy," you murmured between kisses, going up his shoulder and climbing your way up his neck. A kiss on his jugular elicited a soft, uncharacteristic cry.

"Why are you doing this?" he mewled, his pointed ears flicked backwards defensively. He hoped you won't kiss his ears. He wouldn't know what to do if you did.

"Showing you how much I like you," you said simply, bringing his paw back up to your face, cupping your cheek with it. Your cheeks felt so velvety soft, so squishy in the palm of his calloused pads. "I love every part of you, Guzzy, I hope you know that."

Something tugged at his heart in a way that Guzma could not describe. Merely because he just never felt anything like this. "I am literally destruction incarnate."

"I know."

Guzma's hand on your hip gripped hard. "I can and will wreck your bones if I hold you the wrong way."

"What a way to go," you snorted. His heart did a little somersault in his chest.

"Everyone else-"

"Everyone else is different from each other, Guzma," you tilted your head up at him. "You too. You're different from them, and I think that's beautiful."

It felt as though a wave of heat fanned across his entire nervous system, the beat of his heart roared in his head and each thump sent a new wave to wash over him.

You think he's beautiful.

Before he could say anything else, you leaned closer, your chest leaned against him, his mouth caught in yours. The tug in his heart pulled harder, binding him to you while your mana flowed across his tongue when you deepened the kiss.