Chapter Text
"Stop being nice to me. It's not like you."
Ruze got this dumb letter from the puppeteer weeks ago but he couldn't be bothered to read it til now. He's a busy guy with monsters to hunt, skulls to crack, and bounties to collect. Now that he's opened it though, he can't stop reading it over and over.
Nice? Since when had he been nice to the creepy little fucker? He hates every single one of the members of their so-called bounty hunter unit equally, and he sure makes a point of showing it equally as well.
No one is an exception and he should make that clear.
"Octavio!" Ruze shouts as he marches to the second floor where the bard resides.
Forgoing knocking, Ruze barges into the man's room. "Octavio, just to make things crystal fucking clear. I-"
The state of the room stops him in his tracks. Gods , Ruze thinks as he takes it in.
Octavio has always kept his room dark, today is no different. It's to better preserve the organs he harvests from beasts or whatever the fuck. Ruze doesn't care to recall. It's also always been in some state of disarray with "puppet parts", threads, and various other things littering the area. But the mess in here now is truly something to behold.
The scolding rant comes before he could stop himself. "What. The. Fuck. Where the hell are you, you little shit?! What's with this mess? Are your poppets rebelling again, tired of cleaning the fuck after you? You can't seriously be living like this!"
"Ugh." Thump.
Ruze turns his head to the sound coming from the corner of the room. He approaches as he sees a peek of those unnaturally iridescent magenta eyes and the shadow of the puppeteer's slight frame.
"Hello, Crimzon Ruze."
Octavio's voice is higher and more unnerving than usual. His eyes look tired too, Ruze notes.
Crouching down to be face to face with the smaller man, Ruze states again, "Octavio. What the fuck."
"Hmmm," Octavio hums with a broken smile. "I've been working on an experiment. I'm so close to figuring out how to strengthen my control over larger corruption beasts but the trials are taking longer than expected. Might have taken out my anger on some of my other... samples," he adds as he gestures to the broken jars and lacerated organs all over the floor.
"Ok... so you've lost it."
Octavio giggles inappropriately long before replying. "Maybe a little."
Octavio has acted this way a few times before. The mania in his eyes is familiar. He is both terrifying and beautiful like this , the thought sends a shiver down Ruze's spine.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and heaving the heaviest sigh known to man, Ruze maneuvers Octavio to stand and supports him while walking.
"Ouch," the smaller man insincerely reacts as he's gracelessly deposited onto the bed.
"Whatever. Just stay there and go to fucking sleep."
"Can you sing me a lullaby?"
"You fucking wish, you cheeky little shit."
"Or maybe stay in bed with me? It gets cold in here," Octavio asks, scooting a little to the side to make room.
"Wh- No," he replies, face definitely not heating up.
"Are you blushing?"
"No! Fuck off already! Sleep!"
Ruze stomps to the door, a thousand percent ready to slam it behind him before he's stopped again.
"Hey, Crimzon Ruze," Octavio singsongs.
"WHAT?"
A pause. A giggle. (Annoying.)
"You're such a softie. Good night."
"... Oh, fuck you."
He slams the door even harder than he originally intended. He hopes whatever remaining jars and stuff still on Octavio's shelves fall and break from the force of it. He hopes it makes Octavio's ears pop. He hopes the door shaking on its hinges absorbs the shaking from his hands so he can feel steady again. He hopes those glowing magenta eyes didn't actually see his face flush at being invited to the man's bed...
Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, Ruze asks himself how he ended up with such a troublesome group. Octavio, in particular, being uniquely frustrating.
He'll have to remind Octavio how much of a bastard he is some other time.