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hobgayblin · 3 years ago

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Don’t look at me I had a gay little idea for a pic/fic combo and I’m feeling emotions about it

Fic under cut but in summary: Rurik keeps his gloves on at all times because he’s afraid of accidentally blighting someone like he did himself and Dante makes him take them off and tenderly touch his face and maybe they kiss about it. I hate him.

Word Count: 2525

The king's eyes studied his guard as they had a million times over at this point. Frequently his look-overs were obvious and annoyed the man to no end, but he was too focused to notice this time. Rurik was busy sharpening his cutlass to notice Dante's stares. The scraping sound of the whetstone against metal reverberated off the high walls and filled an otherwise silent room. Silence was a strange phenomenon around Dante, but he was also too focused on something to speak at the moment.

His half-lidded emerald eyes fixed on Rurik's hands as they so skillfully tended to the sword. The many years of these same rituals of upkeep were evident with how deftly and quickly he was doing it; and while he was focused on his task it was clear he didn't have to think much about it, every movement was built into his muscle memory at this point. It was hypnotizing to watch his hands move, even if this was the thousandth time he's watched him do the same thing. Or even more, perhaps the millionth time he's stared at his hands, and thought about how they taught him how to fight... thought about how many people he must have killed with those hands... thought about how they feel around his throat, as they have been frequently when Rurik gets annoyed with him... thought about how he's never... really seen his hands...

For the years they'd known each other Rurik's hands had always been covered by a pair of black leather gloves. He liked to stay fully covered from toe to chin at all times, as most people in the Spade kingdom did, given the cold climate. But even in the times Dante had seen him dressed down his hands had always been covered up. Dante's eyes squinted as he continued to watch the gloved hands continue to work. His eyes furrowed in annoyance, the gloves being the only detail he could focus on now. Hiding things from him, from his king, was he? Dante wouldn't allow anything like that from his most trusted guard.

As much as he wanted to see them right at that moment, he knew better than to disturb Rurik's sharpening process; the first and only time he had done so his blood ended up being the polish for the blade that day. A shiver of slight fear and intense excitement shot up his spine at the memory... the way Rurik had taken advantage of his own regenerative ability when attacking him... such a cruel fighter, his guard was. The reminiscing was cut short when the scraping of the whetstone stopped echoing through the room. Dante's eyes focused again and watched Rurik set the stone down and reach over to grab the polishing tools. As the gloved hand outstretched, Dante darted his own hand out and very gingerly grabbed Rurik by the wrist. The gentle grip only lasted a fraction of a second before tightening as Rurik immediately tried to pull away. Rurik's eyes immediately lit aflame with anger as he looked up at Dante and tried to pull away again. His grip tightened further and the corners of his lips curled into a wicked grin as Dante pulled Rurik closer to him. Before the guard could do anything, Dante brought his other hand up and danced it around his fingertips a bit before starting to tug at the tips of the leather glove.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rurik's voice boomed through the room, and his hand curled into a tight fist to impede Dante's task.

Dante's hand curled gently around the fist, but his grip on Rurik's wrist tightened like a vice. His eyes softened and his smile became a bit more crooked, but Rurik's gaze stayed intense and a snarl tugged up at his lip.

"I'm curious..." Dante's voice was tinged with slight mockery as always, "What could you possibly be hiding from me with these gloves of yours?"

"My hands, Your Highness," Rurik's words were spat out through gritted teeth as he continued trying to tug his hand away. "What else could be under gloves?"

Finally, Rurik freed himself from the fiend's grip and rubbed his sore wrist with his other hand. There may have been a bit of magic behind that hold, usually it's much easier to escape from the King's grasp. Dante's eye twitched at him getting away, but he straightened his back and continued to smile, unnervingly gently, at Rurik.

"I'm not stupid," frustration leaked through his words though his face stayed soft, "I was just wondering why they're always covered."

"Perhaps you should ask instead of getting grabby. I know how much you love to hear yourself talk so I thought that would have been an obvious option."

"I did ask. Are you losing your hearing in your advanced age, General?" The annoyance shone through a bit more now, his smile dropped for a second before it morphed into a more strained smirk.

"You need to learn to ask a little nicer when you want something." Rurik shot a deadly look at Dante and the two held silent eye contact for about a minute. Eventually Rurik let out a loud frustrated sigh, knowing damn well he wouldn't get anywhere with this. "I suppose the outcome is the same either way though, isn't it."

"That's right," the smugness in Dante's voice was absolutely unbearable, "now answer the question."

Another sigh came from Rurik before he lowered his gaze to look down at his hands. One was still cradling his wrist from the vice grip it had been put in, while the other finally relaxed from the fist it had been in. He flexed his hand a couple times, completely silent, trying to think of how to explain himself. It was a sensitive topic, not one he particularly wanted to share with Dante of all people, but the devil host would keep pushing until he got what he wanted, so there was no point in delaying it.

"You know what my magic is, what it can do to the human body." Rurik's eyes didn't leave his hands as he spoke. "My face and half of my body is a testament to that. I... didn't want to do the same thing to someone else, so I thought my hands best stay covered until that destructive power is needed."

"Are you telling me the head of my country's guard can't control his magic?" Dante cocked an eyebrow.

"I can control it just fine, I'm not a child." Rurik snapped back, finally raising his gaze from his hands. "But I guess a part of me is... still nervous... I wouldn't want it to happen to someone else."

Rurik's eyes lingered a bit longer than intended on Dante's face before he quickly averted them back to his hands. Dante's smile widened at the strange sentimentality of the cold man. He wasn't expecting his guard to care about other people. What a delicious tidbit to keep in mind. Dante moved his hands back towards Rurik's once more, this time gently taking them in his own. Rurik squinted in suspicion at his hands, but he didn't pull away this time.

"If you're in control, then there's nothing to be afraid of.” As he spoke Dante brought one of Rurik’s hands up and started to tug at the tips of his glove again. “And if you’re not… Well you’ve told me plenty of times that you want me dead, so surely you wouldn’t care if I were to get blighted, would you?”

Rurik switched his eyes rapidly between glaring at Dante and watching as his glove was slowly pulled from his hand. Arrogant bastard. Just through the tone Rurik knew that Dante thought he would never hurt him. He could. Even with Dante’s regeneration, Rurik knew he could beat it and wither him to nothing while his guard was down like this. As much as he said he wanted to, Rurik knew that he couldn’t bring himself to. Dante, unfortunately, also knew that he couldn’t, and he made that clear.

As one of his hands was freed from its prison, Rurik balled it up as the cold air stung it. His focus stayed downward as Dante moved on to his other hand. Instinctively, Rurik froze and balled up the other hand as well for just a moment. That one was… his worse for wear hand, to say the least. The King clicked his tongue in disapproval a couple times, and Rurik took the hint and shakily opened his hand back up. The removal of this glove was a lot quicker, seemingly so he couldn’t stop it again. As it was revealed, Dante cocked his head to the side at the bruised purple coloration and the blackened scars that snaked around Rurik’s left hand. The scars clearly went all the way up to his face, but it seemed his hands had gotten much rougher treatment.

Dante unceremoniously threw the gloves behind him, and took Rurik’s bare hands in his. His thumb traced the knuckles and scars of the blighted hand. It looked beat to hell, but none of the strength had been taken out of it-- that he was certain of.

“Are you done?” Rurik’s voice was flat and annoyed. “You’ve seen them, now let me get my gloves and go back to my business.”

“No, no, not yet…” Dante’s eyes stayed focused downwards at Rurik’s hands. The longer he stared at them, he could feel a sickening heat spread through his chest. It was shameful how much he had thought about his next move before, but he needed his curiosity sated. “Indulge me for a moment will you?”

Rurik’s eyebrows furrowed as Dante so gently took his hands and brought them up to place them on his cheeks. A pang of fear shot through Rurik as he watched his bare hands touch Dante’s soft skin. That feeling shifted and made his chest tighten as his king then closed his eyes and gripped his scarred hand, holding it steady so he could nuzzle his face into it. Rurik felt heat rise in his cheeks as his pale face flushed, and the only reason he didn’t pull away immediately is due to the shock he felt seeing the King’s face start to turn a bit red as well. It felt so wrong to have such a gentle moment with him… They were at each other’s throats just minutes ago, and now Dante was melting into the touch of his dangerous, shaking hands. Without thinking, Rurik's other hand slid back to run through his slicked, jet black hair. A dreamy sigh of satisfaction left Dante as he rubbed his face against the tough skin of Rurik’s palm and the man’s fingers tangled into his hair.

Most of the feeling in his left hand had been destroyed with the scarring, but it had just enough to feel the sensation of Dante leaving a sweet kiss on his palm. An involuntary noise of surprise came from Rurik’s throat, the embarrassment of which immediately made him flush a deeper red. Dante’s eyes slowly opened, and a smirk spread across his face once more as he looked at the shocked face that stared back at him. It was a rare sight to see Rurik emote at all, but he stood frozen there, his eyes and mouth both wide open in confusion and what seemed like fear almost, face completely red, staring blankly back at Dante. The King’s smirk only widened at the sight, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of Rurik’s neck and gently drag his face down closer to him. Once he was close enough, the hand migrated around to his chin to close his agape mouth so he could gently press his lips to it. Rurik’s eyes widened as much as they could before fluttering shut as he leaned into the kiss. The hand that was still combed through Dante’s hair shifted slightly to the back of his head, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. A soft humming came from Dante as Rurik pressed them closer together and the thumb of his other hand rubbed his cheek.

Neither of them was sure how long the kiss really lasted, but it felt like an eternity before they finally pulled themselves away from each other. Rurik’s eyes slowly opened to see Dante’s green eyes already looking up at him. He froze for a moment longer before finally taking his hands away from the other man’s face. His hands fell back to his side, but his eyes stayed focused on Dante’s face for a bit longer. Checking, double checking, triple checking, making sure he didn’t accidentally scar him. His skin was clear, though still a bit red, and Rurik was just now realizing the smug look of satisfaction mixed with desire painted on his face. That immediately snapped him out of any unfortunate emotional trance he was in, and he loudly cleared his throat.

“I… Need to get back to work.”

Rurik stepped to the side to grab his still untouched polishing equipment. His gaze focused on his hands for a moment as he realized they were still bare. He looked up to find where Dante had thrown them earlier, and saw them about ten feet behind where they had been standing. His eyes switched between the gloves and his hands a few times before he decided to just grab his supplies and go back to his sword. In the worst case scenario his magic didn’t fare well on inorganic material anyway, so he couldn’t really hurt his sword.

As he sat back down and began applying a lacquer to a cloth he felt a pressure against his back. Rurik straightened out and looked behind him as two arms snaked around his waist and squeezed him slightly. Dante had made himself comfortable and squeezed between his body and the back of the chair he was sitting in, his chest flush against Rurik’s back. The King rested his chin on Rurik’s fluffy shoulder cape and looked up at him with a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind if I stick around until you’re done~” Dante’s voice had a bit of a sing-song quality to it.

“You wouldn’t care if I did mind,” Rurik sighed and turned back to continue his sword maintenance. “Do as you please.”

“As I please, hm?--”

“Do as you please so long as it does not get in my way. Just because I didn’t blight you this once doesn’t mean won’t if you get in my way again.” Rurik began to gently run the lacquered cloth along his blade as he spoke so flatly.

“Fine, I suppose I’ve gotten enough from you today.” The guard could feel Dante chuckle softly against his back and squeeze his arms around his waist a little tighter.

“You’ve gotten enough from me for at least three years. Do not try a charade like this again.”

“You think I’ve had enough? Now that I’ve gotten this taste of affection from your cold dead heart? Oh, this is only the beginning, General.”

#black clover #dante zogratis #black clover oc #oc x canon #mlm self ship #self ship #trans self ship #dante x oc #dante x rurik #rurik zeni #👑#malice he wrote #writing #hobgob arts

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hobgayblin · 3 years ago

Text

Ship: Malice He Wrote (Dante/Rurik)

Words: 1638

Summary: Some IDIOT (Rurik) has feelings and he’s mad about it

I saw some sexy angst prompts and wanted to use one and then it turned into a whole ass emotionally charged confession fic don’t look at me. Also it starts in the middle of a scene bc I was lazy and didn’t wanna go back and make it longer gdfshdf

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“SHUT UP,” Rurik snapped, slapping the man’s hand away from his face. “I’ve had enough of your silver tongue and your feigned praises, Dante.”

Dante winced slightly at his guard’s tone; it was nothing new-- Rurik’s aggression towards him-- but the use of his name was. It was a rare occasion when Rurik didn’t use a title for him, it seemed like he usually went out of his way to not use his name, in fact. He complied this time, more out of shock than anything else, and brought his hand away from the man’s tear-stained face.

“I’m not feigning anything, nor have I ever--”

“Don’t you lie to me.” Rurik hissed, his lips twitching up into a snarl as he spoke through his gritted teeth. “I’ve been nothing but a plaything to you since you forced this job upon me.”

A singular stray tear rolled down Rurik’s enraged face, getting caught in the crevice of his scar and following it’s path down his jaw. His fists clenched the sheets until it seemed the leather gloves that covered them would tear from the intensity of his grip.

“I...I,” His voice croaked and faltered for a second. Rurik inhaled and tried to calm himself before returning to his more usual monotonous tone, though still a bit shaky, “I don’t like you. I don’t want to like you. You’ve managed to worm your way into my head with your damn manipulation and your mocking, saccharine words of desire. I despise you. Which is exactly what you want, I suppose.”

Rurik’s face was crinkled, almost into a pained look, as he stared down at the floor. The silence weighed everything in the room down, almost as if Dante was casting one of his gravity spells. He was right, normally Rurik’s hatred and disdain for him entertained him immensely. This time, however… This time, the words of contempt felt sour and heavy instead of spurring him on like usual.

“Quite hypocritical for you to accuse me of lying and then go on like this.” Dante’s voice cut through the silence and caused Rurik to wince again. Though his words were sharp, Dante scooted a bit closer to Rurik and gently placed a hand on top of his clenched fist. “If you really hated me it would be a lot more fun, but your words lack the bite they usually have. You don’t seem mad at me this time, so what are you mad about?”

The guard’s eyes opened just enough to glare down at the hand that was now on top of his and lightly stroking his strained knuckles. His eyes stayed fixed on the hand, not moving an inch or betraying any semblance of emotion behind them. His mannerisms spoke for him though, or rather, his lack thereof. Normally he would have very quickly pulled his hand away at Dante’s touch, or even attacked him, but it seemed Rurik was truly full of surprises today. He sat there, silent and unmoving, as if suddenly turned into a cold slab of stone.

Perhaps it was pushing his luck, but Dante took the opportunity to snake his arm around the taller man’s shoulders and bring him closer. He was expecting to be shoved away, even sort of hoping for it, so he knew Rurik wasn’t broken or something. Instead, Rurik’s eyes squeezed shut again as he allowed himself to be pulled closer and his head to be rested on his King’s shoulder. Countless times Dante had told Rurik that he would crack his icy exterior one day, but this certainly wasn’t what he was expecting, nor was it what he wanted. There was no fun in this silent resignation, there had to be more.

After a moment of consideration Dante decided to prod a little; to try to get something out of him.

“You’ve never been shy with your words before, so why don’t you say what you really want to say. The head of Spade’s guard, my guard, shouldn’t be a coward who can’t speak his mind.”

Rurik’s lip twitched in annoyance at the comment, but he didn’t move from his position. A few seconds of dead silence passed before a drawn out sigh came from the guard.

“I… Never particularly cared to stay alive. When you gave me the ultimatum to serve as your guard or die, I was more than happy to pick the latter. But I...” Rurik’s words trailed off a bit as he considered carefully what to say, “I was spurred on by a moment of selfish desire to accept your offer. I wanted to destroy, to bring ruin to the world that scorned me, I wanted… something else… Something that I didn’t understand or care to acknowledge, something I still don’t fully understand or want to acknowledge.”

“Oh?” Dante couldn’t hide the mischievous tone in his voice. It seemed like he would finally get something interesting from the stoic man. “Go on.”

A light growl came from Rurik at the mocking tone of Dante’s voice. He sat in silence once more, no longer wanting to continue, not wanting to give Dante the satisfaction of his words leading to the only place they could go from here. But perhaps he was right, the captain of the guard shouldn’t be afraid to say what was on his mind, what had been on his mind for a while now.

“I guess another thing I so selfishly wanted was… the attention you’ve been giving me… You’re an absolute menace and you give me an almost constant headache with your egotism and insufferable attitude and stupid beard and--”

“Alright alright, get back on topic will you.” Dante interjected before Rurik veered off into jeering him for the rest of the night.

Rurik snarled and cleared his throat before continuing his train of thought. “Despite your distasteful being and my better judgement I suppose… I’ve come to… not completely despise your presence in my life… Perhaps I even… I-I…I want...”

Rurik’s voice became an incomprehensible jumble of whispers and stuttered words as he tried to force his thoughts to come out, but everything he wanted to say kept getting stuck in his throat. He brought a hand up to his face and squeezed his temples to try to steady his mind in any way he could. He felt pathetic, and he knew Dante was thinking the same thing.

“You want...?” The tone was curious, and mocking as always, as Dante tilted Rurik’s head so he was facing him. “Tell me what it is you want, Rurik.”

A chill shot up Rurik’s spine at the use of his name. Similarly to how he usually never used Dante’s, Dante rarely used his name, and preferred all sorts of condescending pet names instead.

“I want...I… You… I want you t-to…” Rurik’s grip on his own face tightened in frustration. It shouldn’t be this hard to say something so simple, but he just couldn’t get the words to come out. "I… I can’t… say it,” A loud sigh escaped the man. He couldn’t get out what he wanted exactly, but maybe he could force something easier to come out.

“C-could... could you just hold me, a while?"

Rurik’s eyes were once again cast down onto the floor, awaiting the laughter and mockery he was sure was going to come from the devil host. But it didn’t quite come. There was a small chuckle from Dante, but it seemed more relieved than mocking. Rurik didn’t want to look up, but he felt the other man slide back, further onto the bed, and away from him. It was maddening how he felt his heart sink a bit as Dante’s arm left his shoulders and his presence got slightly further away. What an absolutely dreadful feeling to miss his touch. It didn’t last long, however. Rurik’s eyes shifted a bit as Dante’s boots plopped down on the floor beside him, and soon after he felt a tug on one of his arms, beckoning him back. He complied with the force, allowing himself to be pulled back into the middle of his own rather large bed.

Rurik finally brought his gaze back up and saw Dante had already laid down and made himself comfortable, one arm arm up and resting behind his head. The King was flexing his fingers in a “come here” motion while using the slightest bit of his gravity magic to pull Rurik towards him. It was an aggravating sight, but something about it made Rurik’s stomach churn and flutter as well. He very cautiously slid himself over to Dante and slowly lowered his head onto his chest, and even more slowly wrapped an arm over his waist. Dante’s free hand curled into Rurik’s soft, fluffy hair and twirled around a few locks. All hesitation lifted and Rurik curled up into a tight ball next to Dante, hiding his red face from his sight.

It was pathetic, the way the big imposing captain of the guard curled up against him. How he shrank himself, seemed so vulnerable. The same thought had crossed both their minds as Rurik cuddled up to Dante. It was embarrassing, humiliating in a way, but it was also so incredibly… comforting. The slow rise and fall of Dante’s chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart filled Rurik with a comfort he couldn’t describe, one that he’d never known or thought he would know. There was a certain rage that accompanied it, knowing that this comfort was being given by Dante of all people, but perhaps he could allow himself to be lost in it just this once. Even as he was slowly lulled to sleep by the warmth of his King, and the way he twirled and played with his hair, he knew he would never hear the end of this.

#yes the emoji is the fic title GGSHDFGSKD #hhhghgh #I love never editing anything every i hope this doesnt read like garbage sdfghskdf #okay i did edit ONE thing. I fixed a line of dialogue that sounded like. just incredibly not how people talk sgfgsdhf #writing #malice he wrote #👑#rurik zeni #i need to go find the prompts to rb since i used one hold on

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