#selfship fics

Lucifer finds Lyubov outside of the cabin buried deep in the woods they’ve been staying in. It’s not usually hard for them to find her— the two of them are alone out here, aside from Derby and Lyubov’s pack of raptors. They hardly ever see any other humans out here though, something that gives Lucifer a nice break from some of the more draining aspects of celebrity. 

Lucifer’s sure that Lyubov notices her as she approaches. One of the many skills both a bodyguard and an assassin has to have is being able to notice when someone’s getting closer, though right now, she doesn’t look in their direction. Instead she’s completely focused on tending to her raptors, kneeling by Panthera. 

“What happened?” Lucifer asks. 

Lyubov looks up at Lucifer, her large eyes meeting theirs before she motions to come closer with her head, her hands not leaving Panthera’s leg as the raptor tries to wiggle herself away. As they approach, they can see that Lyubov’s been wrapping some bandages around Panthera’s leg. She must have gotten injured, though how is a mystery.

“Oh, God, is she alright?” Lucifer asks. While Lyubov’s raptor pack has still been taking time to warm up to her again, she knows just how important the pack is to her girlfriend. They’re sure she’s been worried sick about Panthera, even if it does look like she’s doing a good job of taking care of her. 

Lyubov nods as she fixes the bandages in place, her hands now free so she can sign, “She got caught up in a hunter’s trap in the woods. I was able to get her out without much issue, but her leg was hurt.”

Lucifer frowns. “Poor thing. Good thing you were able to get her out of there.”

Lyubov nods, though there's a displeased look on her face, her eyebrows furrowed as she watches Panthera take a couple of steps, seemingly a bit unsteady on her injured leg. She’s no doubt blaming herself for this— Panthera may be a bit clumsy, but Lyubov has a mother’s instincts when it comes to her raptors. She cares for them as if they were her children, and Lucifer’s sure she's thinking now about ways she could have prevented this from happening. Though if Lucifer knows anything about her girlfriend, she's sure she did everything she could to keep Panthera and the others safe. 

Lucifer puts a hand on Lyubov’s shoulder— something that's easier to do now than when she’s standing with how tall she is— and gives her a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m sure she’ll be doing better soon. You did what you could,” they say. 

Lyubov doesn't look convinced by that, but she doesn't argue. At least she relaxes a bit with Lucifer’s touch. In moments like these, she can almost feel like things are the same as they were before she found out that Lyubov wasn't just a bodyguard, and instead was an assassin. 

It hasn’t been an easy process, learning to trust her partner again after everything. Part of Lucifer still feels betrayed by Lyubov, even if it’s only a small part of them. She doesn’t know how much of their original relationship was real and how much was made up, doesn’t know how much of Lyubov she actually got to know and how much may have been an act. 

This is a new start for the two of them. One that Lucifer is still uneasy about, even if she does want Lyubov in her life again, enough for them to move out here together. Both of them still have wounds to tend to from the way things ended the first time, even if they have both started to heal from it. But there are growing pains as they figure out how to be together again. They can’t completely wipe the slate clean, and they don’t know if they would even want to. Everything they’ve gone through with each other has made their relationship what it is, and that’s something Lucifer would never trade for anything. 

Panthera makes a whining sound, nudging her head against Lucifer’s free hand. She must have gotten jealous of the attention that her mother was getting from them, now begging for pets like a particularly spoiled dog. It’s one of the things that Lucifer finds so endearing about Panthera and the raptors— for dinosaurs, they’re surprisingly similar to dogs, even seeming to mirror some canine pack behaviors. 

Even after years of knowing Panthera and the rest of the raptors, it’s strange to see them out and about, as if their species hadn’t originally gone extinct millions of years ago. But Lucifer’s admittedly taken a shine to them over time, and it seems they’ve taken a liking to her too. Panthera was the first of the pack that they really felt a connection with, perhaps with her more playful nature making it so she warmed up to them faster. 

“Awww, poor baby, don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a lot of attention while you get better,” Lucifer promises, scratching along one of her scaly cheeks. 

Panthera leans into the touch, making some pleased noises now that she’s gotten what she’s wanted.

“You’re very spoiled. You know that, right?” Lucifer says, though she doesn’t stop giving the raptor the attention she was begging for. 

They let Lyubov stand up as they continue to lavish Panthera with affection, glancing down to her wounded leg. Hopefully she’ll get better soon— they’re sure the injury won’t keep Panthera down for long, but the way she’s struggling to put weight on that leg will probably make it a little harder for her to play out in the woods the way she usually likes to in their down time.

When Lucifer looks up at Lyubov, she’s staring at them and Panthera with a soft look in her eyes, one that’s achingly affectionate. She always seems to like when Lucifer spends time with the raptors, seeing the ones she cares about most spending time together. 

Sakuya: …and Sakura took way too long talking about the little penguin toy she got from her Papa, she liked it so much!

Lucille: Haha, then it seems like the daycare’s show and tell was a success, huh?

Sakuya: It really was! The kids liked it a lot more than I thought they would.

Lucille: Now that I think about it, I think we did something similar when we were their age, too. I remember bringing in a plushie, but I don’t think I was good at keeping it hidden away until I had to show it off. 

Sakuya: Some kids did that today, too! I guess some things never change. 

Lucille: Do you remember ever doing one?

Sakuya: I don’t think so… A lot of that time is pretty fuzzy for me, sorry. 

Lucille: You’re fine, I don’t blame you. Then, if you had to do it now, what would you choose?

Sakuya: Hmm… Maybe a stuffed animal? 

Lucille: Even now?

Sakuya: Well, all of them are from my favorite people, and they all hold a lot of special memories, like Blue!

Lucille: Oh, that’s true! He is pretty important to you, huh?

Lucille: (Memories, huh… stuffed animals are pretty nostalgic, but I didn’t even consider that they could be that special.) 

Izumi: Oh, Sakuya, Lucille, I didn’t realize you two were still in here! It’s getting late, isn’t it?

Sakuya: Director! I didn’t know you were still up. 

Izumi: Well, I’m helping out a friend’s troupe this week, so I’ve gotta finish up a few more blocking notes… Right now, I just need some caffeine.

Lucille: Director, don’t pull a Tsuzuru on us! Get some sleep! 

Izumi: Not until you two do.

Izumi: Do you need a ride home, Lu? It’s getting kind of late, and you probably shouldn’t be walking out alone.

Lucille: A-are you sure? I’ve heard, um, things, about your driving. 

Izumi: Nonsense! You’re only a few blocks away, it’ll be just fine, I promise. C’mon, it’s already a few hours after that damn curfew, you should be getting home anyway.

Lucille: Sigh… Alright. Saku, pray for me.

Sakuya: It won’t be that bad!

Izumi: He’s right, you know.

Sakuya: Good luck out there. I love you. 

Lucille: I love you too.

Lucille: *Chu!*

Lucille: Let that be your last memory of me before I fade…. away…

Izumi: I heard that!

-------------------------

Lucille: …

Izumi: …

Lucille: …Hey, Izumi?

Izumi: Yeah?

Lucille: Can I ask something weird?

Izumi: Of course!

Lucille: What do you think Saku values most?

Izumi: Sakuya’s values?

Lucille: Yeah… I’m trying to figure out an anniversary present for him, and I'm kinda out of ideas.

Izumi: Oh, that’s coming up soon, isn’t it? It’s hard to believe you two have been together that long.

Izumi: Well, to answer your question, I’d think it’s pretty simple, right? He cares a lot about what he loves: acting, his family, and, of course, you. 

Lucille: Me?

Izumi: Yeah, you! You should see him when you’re not around. Citron even tells me he murmurs your name in his sleep. 

Lucille: Really? Even then?

Izumi: Yep. I don’t think I’ve seen him so passionate about anything other than theater before. You should consider yourself lucky.

Lucille: (He dreams about me. Oh my god he dreams about me. How often am I on his mind? Does he really miss me then?)

Lucille: (Wait. If I’m a part of his sleep, maybe I can get him something like that…)

Izumi: Hey, Lu, this is your uni, right?

Lucille: Huh? Oh, yeah, it is. I can make it to the dorm from here, thanks for the ride.

Izumi: Mhm! And, hey. Good luck on that anniversary present of yours.

Lucille: Thanks! Good night!

Izumi: 'Night. Stay safe.

Lucille: (I think I know just what I’m gonna get him.)

Kanata could never, ever feel satisfied with anyone’s blood but yours once his fangs sank into you for the first time. The sweet, honey-like taste of your blood trickled down the seam of his throat, and while he was solicitous over the notion of ‘corrupting’ you, he realized that it was him being tainted by your wondrous being. 

—Resting within the confines of your room, the melodic tones of a dolphin mobile dissolving beneath the rapid pounding of your heart, you pressed your back against the wall atop your bed.

“should I leave a mark in a place where everyone can see, or no~?” Kanata whispered as lithe fingers brushed aside your puffy hair, revealing the contours of your neck, “hm? whichever makes me happiest? hehe, angelfish, you’re so cute♪”

Leaning in as a palm smoothed on your silken sheets, Kanata pressed his lush lips onto the skin behind your ear; trailing ever-so-softly down, luxuriating in how your pulse quickened with each kiss.

One of his favorite parts of biting you was lavishing you in a surplus of kisses, allowing your trembling and heated skin to feel the depths of his affections for you first. A sweet, irresistible scent arose from his every motion, enthralling him more and more.

You squirmed, squeezing an eye shut as Kanata’s mouth curved around the supple crook of your neck and began sucking.

“mm, so soft⋯ always so soft; and even your skin is tasty,” Kanata hummed on you, the vibrations from his lips surging a frisson of excitement down the column of your spine. “i’ll let my angelfish feel a pukapuka before sinking in deeper, alright~?”

With the utmost tenderness imaginable, Kanata’s fangs protruded against you and dug into your neck; a tinge of pain suffused to your core, before that sensation became white-hot as he pumped his natural aphrodisiac into your veins.

Listening as your breathing gradually became heavier, feverish puffs of air emitting from you, Kanata smiled and descended his fangs into you deeper. Deeper, deeper; and then, he began suckling.

A soft moan overflowed from Kanata as the delightful taste of your warm blood seeped across his tongue, and the voracity throbbing inside him exacerbated as he found himself craving for more. “hold onto me as tightly as you need to,” Kanata whispered between greedy, yet steady sucks, his voice illuminating with endless hues of love and pure rapture, “just like that, squeeze onto me♪

⋯ tightly, so you don’t let go.”

Missions have no business being this exhausting. Prosciutto is a prepared man, he knew what he was getting into when he read the details in the little manila folder that now rests in his bag. He anticipated the hot weather, the gruelling nature of his work, and he took every factor into account. Yet, he can’t help but be exasperated at how tired he feels. The throbbing in his muscles only worsen when he opens the base door. Cursing the blistering heat, he quietly enters the hideout, wanting nothing more than to melt into the couch. He’s lucky it seems, because absolutely none of his team mates are in sight. They knew he would be returning today but perhaps they’re busy with their own work. Thinking nothing of it, he all but collapses onto the couch, arms resting on either side of the backrest. At this point, it's a habit of his to manspread incredibly wide, especially when he’s weary.

Five minutes. That’s all the silence he’s rewarded for his hard work before Formaggio comes out one of the inner rooms for something.

“Oh lookie lookie,” he says, chipper as always. “How was the mission? You look terrible.” Prosciutto only grunts in response. It’s true. His usual hair sticks up and his nicely styled suit looks too worn out. He wasn’t gone very long but the imprint of a heavy duty assignment covers his entire body. Wrinkles in his clothes, a couple minor scratches on his arm, the slight reek of sweat, it all comes together. “If you’re gonna hit the shower, you’ll have to wait. Pesci’s currently in there.” Prosciutto’s eyes are already closed in search of some relaxation so he only nods in response. He hopes Formaggio would just leave him alone and not make too much noise so he can catch up on some of the sleep he lost trying to kill this particularly tricky target. But his luck ran out.

Illuso’s appearance into the living room just makes for more noise as he suddenly starts bickering with Formaggio. Prosciutto is aware of their rocky relationship but right now he wants absolutely no part of it. Despite his circumstances, he tries to get some rest, praying that ignoring the quarreling bunch will make them disappear. He’s about to shout at them to take it into the mirror world if they’re going to be so disruptive but he catches a tinge of maroon in the corner of his eyes.

Focaccia enters the base knowing their boyfriend would be coming home today and she’d rather pick him up early than let him wait in the base where he gets into fights which make him more exhausted than he already was. She’s expecting to greet the other members first but upon entering sees her beloved sprawled over the couch and can’t help their habit.

She almost runs to the couch. “Aw do you want some huggies and kissies baby?” At once, the bickering Formaggio and Illuso stop, almost in unison. They cannot decipher if they heard correctly. Focaccia, the poor perpetrator, stops herself too, hoping she doesn’t have to turn around and look at those two square in the face. But the one who takes it the worst has to hide his face in pure embarrassment. Prosciutto can barely look away from the floor and the other three spot the tinge of red appearing on the tips of his ear.

It’s true, Prosciutto never allows them to call him nicknames in the presence of others, lest a situation like this were to befall them. His worst nightmares come true when Illuso and Formaggio have to fight their own laughter.

“Huggies and kissies?!?”

“Baby?”

The cackle follows soon after while Focaccia goes to sit beside Prosciutto, mouthing “sorry” before rolling her eyes at her teammates.

“You guys act like you’ve never heard someone call another person a nickname before.”

“Yeah but… baby?”

“And for Prosciutto??”

Armed with a plethora of swords, the entities clad in silver relinquished them from their holsters and pointed them directly at the unfortunate girl. Being hunted because she was interwoven with the fae exacerbated the danger her daily survival possessed, yet she didn’t particularly ‘care’ for it.

Because there was a certain someone she’d rather be in danger with—than be safe without.

Once that thought crossed her mind, the clamor of flesh tearing apart resounded. Grotesque splotches of blood scattered across the floor as iridescent emerald skewered the malicious foes, and Mana became patently relieved as she witnessed the sight of it all.

 While the gore wrenched her stomach cavity with bile, the fact that she was graced with solace heaved a boundless effect on her. "Lilia-san, you came⋯!" Mana cried out, screwing her eyes shut for an ephemeral second as the corpses came billowing to the ground in a mess. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get caught up in all this."

The aforementioned male sauntered forward, his silhouette immaculate without a trace of blood on him, before his hands gripped Mana's cheeks. "You're not hurt, are you?" Lilia questioned rather staidly, albeit the concern was threaded through his eyes. "Stop apologizing for things out of your control. It’s annoyingly unnecessary."

Bringing her hands up to cover his own, Mana weakly nodded her head in acknowledgement. "I’m fine, you came just in time⋯" she divulged, her voice soft and euphonious in spite of the harrowing situation she endured moments before.

Perusing her countenance and overall being, Lilia felt sated that she wasn’t handled erroneously in any way. Lilia pinched her cheek before dropping his hands down, recoiling to seize up her petite hands once more. "Let’s go back to camp," he murmured, scrutinizing as Mana’s mien brightened substantially at his articulation.

For whatever reason, Lilia pleaded that she’d just be safe—he’d withstand an infinite amount of danger if it meant this one, singular wish could be granted.

However, as Riddle approached closer to the aberrant opulence, he perceived his beloved Ari⋯ with their black locks lavished in clips and scrunchies, hairstyle in chaos from the magnitude of accessories.

“Wha—?” Eyes widening at how ridiculous she looked, Riddle was about to chide their appearance when an idiosyncratic, floating head popped up beside Ari’s mien. Che’nya’s kittenish lips curved into a maddening grin as his spindly fingers played with her hair, and it seemed as if Ari was simply letting him do as he pleases.

But for Riddle, what should’ve been an endearing sight (especially since Ari didn’t look blanched at all⋯ unlike last time), all he could see was red. Misplaced acrimony festered on the tip of his tongue as jealousy scorched his ever palpitating heart, and Riddle already knew his countenance was florid from his miffed attitude.

“Che’nya! How many times must I tell you not to trespass where you don’t belong?” Riddle reprimanded his childhood friend whilst tromping over to the pair, thrusting his scepter between Che’nya and Ari; creating a falsified barrier.

“Ah, Riddle, meow you doin’~?” Che’nya innocuously greeted, giving the queen a wave as he unceremoniously swats away the scepter from pointing at his chest, “Arinya let me play with their hair!”

“I can see that,” staid and acerbic, the words fell from Riddle’s trembling lips as his eyes narrowed. Nestled in Ari’s hand was the crown-shaped clip he gifted them, and discerning that only magnified how rankled he was.

Beads of sweat accumulated on the nape of Ari’s neck as they remained planted in her seat, and as the ridges of their fingertips traced over the smooth metal, they profusely apologized to Riddle, intervening, “I-I’m sorry, Riddle, I’m sure my appearance is unsightly now for the tea party!”

“That’s not the problem⋯” Riddle huffed out, even though by his characteristic standards, it should’ve been.

Distinguishing the jealous snit of Riddle’s, Che’nya’s lips curled into an even wider smile. “Well, I think they look purrty!” At this point, Che’nya just wished to play with Riddle a little. It was so fun sometimes! “Now all they need is a pair of cat ears to match mine!”

“Absolutely not!” Riddle snapped, his restraint going to pieces from that specific phrase as he places his hand across his chest, “Ari is a Heartslabyul student, which means they’re mine to look after. I can’t have them go around looking like they’re from RSA, can I?”

“Oh, Riddle♪ How fine you look dressed in rage!” Che’nya snickered, toothy grin bouncing with his insouciant persona, “Relax, I’m just foolin’ around. I could hardly afford to lose my head.”

Squinting his eyes, Riddle gyrated on his heel away from Che’nya and began to untangle Ari’s hair; his gloved fingers moving with a precision of vulturine attentiveness. “If you understand, then why bother trying to rattle me up?” Riddle sighed, unaware of how poor Ari sat in the chair with trepidation threading in their gut.

“Besides, everynyan knows Arinya is simply mad about Riddle!”

Breath hitching in their throat, Ari stammered, cheeks flushed hotly, “Che’nya—?!”

Riddle smirked complacently at Che’nya’s comment, cascading her locks along with his hands as he shifts them down to cup their chin, “That’s right, they are. You would be best to remember that.”

And Riddle’s mood only continued to raise as he was finally able to weave the clip back into Ari’s hair—marking them as rightfully his once more.

Che’nya watched the exchange with a mirthful gaze, chortling as Riddle placed a kiss atop Ari’s head, and hummed, “It doesn’t matter which way you go, you’ll always find each other, won’t you? Hmhm~♪”