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#deimos is barely holding himself from laughing
razzlee-meow · 1 year
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something small i wrote
ehhehjkahjehehehhehe lee! hank is invading my brain and i kinda wanna write something. im going to randomly post whatever i write down below. because i can.
i have lee!deimos coming up soon, i'm writing both. at the same time. so when this is done, i'll most likely be finishing the other one. hold on tight for that one!!!! :D
deimos is "bored outta his fuckin' mind" and hank is around. unluckily for hank, deimos found out they're ticklish, and boy this information does not go overlooked.
he/they pronouns for hank. | he/him for deimos.
"Deimos―" Hank inhaled sharply, spinning on their heels to face the other man behind him who had been aimlessly wandering around the base behind him, seemingly bored out of his mind. While they never minded the members checking up and wanting to converse with him, they did mind when they did it constantly. It felt like he was breathing down his neck. He needed to say something. "Go see Sanford."
Deimos only shook his head in response. "Can't. Sanford is out on business, 'member?" Hank faintly remembered the other man yelling out in the building that he had work to attend to. It's precisely when all of this mess started happening as well. If only they had been put together on the mission, they thought. "I'm bored outta my fuckin' mind, Hank!"
"Not my problem," was Hank's reply. The masked man sat down on a chair, pulling a small radio into his lap. It had been one of the agent's radios, one that they snatched off from their dead body. He wanted to see if they could use it for their own personal gain, getting information by pretending to be an agent, but before he could even think to do that, he felt two fingers jab into his sides. His normally dull eyes widened at the shocking feeling as he almost jumped ten feet into the air.
The noise that escaped his mouth was one he had probably never heard from himself, and that alone was enough to send the stoic member into a complete breakdown. His whole face, from what Deimos could see, was completely red as he tried to process what just happened. "No way, dude, you're ticklish?" He tried to stop himself from laughing but what else are you supposed to do when you find out the world's most wanted mercenary is weak to a few tickles?!
"Deimos, don't―" Hank tried to sound threatening, but it came out in a pathetic whine. They set the radio back down, as to not break it as they tried to bolt across the room. It didn't end very well as Hank's boot had gotten caught on one of the chair legs he was sitting on. Deimos stared on in absolute amusement. "Jeez, Hank. You're makin' this kinda easy on me, huh?"
Hank grunted slightly as he felt the other man's weight on top of him. He was definitely screwed now, at the hands of someone who had no intention of letting his ticklishness pass by. "Get off, asshole," Hank muttered as he struggled underneath him, their arms desperately attempting to push him off. The other gasped in mock offense. "Hank, you're so mean! How dare you! I think you need to learn some manners." Deimos gently slid his hands up the mercenary's shirt, his hands resting on their newly discovered sensitive flesh. Hank's body tensed, and his eyes widened behind his red goggles.
"Deimos, I swear to goHOHOohd!' His fingers had only gently dug into his bare flesh, and the most surprising noise fell out of Hank's mouth. Deimos stared at him, his mouth gaping open before hysterical laughter fell out of him. It took a moment for the younger man to recover, his breathy chuckles still lingering in the air. "Hank, did you just squeal?" The other turned away, frowning underneath the cloth on his face.
"S-Shut up, and get off!" Hank stuttered, their legs kicking weakly behind them. With a playful tint in his eyes, Deimos' fingers scribbled away at the man's torso, getting every inch of flesh he could possibly find. He was doing absolutely everything he could to send the poor person into hysterics - and judging from the loud laughter now peeling from the mercenary's lips, it seemed like it was working. Hank's laugh definitely contrasted with his stoic/edgy personality, being loud and almost a little high-pitched. "D-DehehehIHIHIHMOS! FUHUHUCK! NOT THEHERE!" Deimos had found a particularly sensitive spot right down by his hips, his sadistic grin only growing wider.
"Not where? Not here?" Deimos dug his fingers into his hips again, watching the man underneath him jerk upwards, his hands desperately trying to grab at his attacker's wrists. "Man, you're just so ticklish. I wonder how you've survived like this. You know how screwed you'd be if the AAHW found out about this? Oh, but it's okay - I'm wonderful at keeping secrets. World's best." Hank's face flushed ten times more at the teasing, shaking their head desperately as they continued to laugh.
"YOHOHOHOU'RE SUCH AN AHAHAHASS!" Hank cursed out, his laughter raising an octave as Deimos continued mercilessly attacking that one spot, vibrating his fingers right into their bone. "Oh, I'm an ass, huh? Is that what I am?" He repeated that question again, his hands moving back upward towards the taller man's ribs. His hands turned into a claw shape, and when he descended on their ribs, the reaction he got was unlike any other.
Hank shrieked. And not some slight, girly shriek. It was LOUD. Enough to burst eardrums probably, but Deimos had already been through this sort of thing with Sanford (who was ... maybe equally as ticklish as Hank was) and it only slightly made him cringe. If Deimos' smirk could get wider, it probably would. "Oh? What have I found here? Is this your worst spot? Here? Or right here?" Hank was sure to kill this man unless he ended up dying of laughter. His hands traveled up and down his ribcage, attaching himself to his writhing body. No matter which way they turned, his hands continued to follow them. How was he so good at this?!
"D-DEIHIHIMOS―" Hank was almost at their limit, tears pricking at the corner of their eyes. Their laughter had turned sort of wheezy, and their fighting had ultimately stopped. He seemed to have no more energy, considering he was just lying there taking it by now. Deimos cocked an eyebrow, his nimble fingers grazing lazily over his stomach. "Are you going to apologize?" He asked in a low voice. Hank's head shot upward. "Whahaht...? Why ahaham I apohohohlogizing?!"
Deimos frowned, digging his fingers into Hank's side again, causing him to jerk forward and let out a loud squeal. "You know, for calling me an asshole! TWICE!" If only Deimos could've seen the face they shot at him, letting out a soft sigh as they rolled their eyes. "F-Fine, I'm s-sorry... just no more tickling, alright?!"
Deimos seemed content with this answer. He quickly stepped off the mercenary, grinning at all the 'damage' he had caused. Hank took off his goggles, wiping his eyes softly. "You better not tell anyone," Hank grumbled, letting out a huff as he rubbed his sides to get rid of the phantom sensation that was still there. "Fine, fine." He got back in return, his hand waving in dismissal.
"I'm back!" Sanford yelled at the front of the base, his loud gruff voice echoing through the halls.
"Ooh, San, you'll NEVER guess what I learned!"
So much for being the world's best secret keeper, huh?
[Fin.]
(i'm re-reading this shit and idk if i like it but i'll post it anyways. i'll let other people decide if it's good or not hahah)
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anakinkinnie · 3 months
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"Is he alright?" Morgana raised an eyebrow "would you be if your advisor was the only person you trusted and yet turned out to be a demon who wants you and everything you could have possibly ever loved dead, gone, for himself." Eamon spoke awfully quickly yet he was understood, everyone looking at him with their brows raised and their head tilted. Morgana blinked multiple times as she stared at him "how did you know?" she asked. "Eh I connected the dots"
"I'm going to sleep" said Christopher
"And here I thought you were going to a tavern wearing your pajamas" Eamond teased him.
"Fuck you" said Christopher.
Eamon chuckled "now, I'll find my way towards lady Kenna's room" he said as he stretched.
"That's my wife you wanker" Christopher shouted from afar.
"Oh come on" Eamon scoffed.
It was late midnight, outside it rained, the Night was barely passing.
Lisa sat at her bed looking at the fire in the fireplace, enjoying the warmth, lost in her thoughts when a knock on her door made her snap out of it.
She opened the door finding Aleksander standing behind it, his hand on the borders of the door, keeping himself up, he was curled up, leaning down holding his stomach tightly, his gloves spilling blood
"I didn't know where else to go"
Lisa opened the door entirely, allowing the man to enter, lending him some support. He entered the room "close the door" and so she did he rested his back against the door as a groan escaped his mouth.
Lisa froze looking at him that way. She leaned down beside him, trying to support him, get him on her bed. "No" Aleksander said "I'm good here" Lisa's brows narrowed as she took him to her bed, ignoring his whining, the man groaned.
With him allowing it she raised his shirt up "Lay back" she checked his wound, already patched, badly patched. "Asshole" she mumbled "were you too proud to come earlier?" he shook his head "that's not the one I came for, that's an old one" he breathed heavily as he clenched his jaw before he attempted to speak again "no shush, show me don't talk." He raised his shirt from the left side, exposing a huge open wound "Alright I see, the blade was constantly twisting around, this is a fatal injury, if they wanted you dead you'd be dead now" she mumbled to herself not allowing him to hear.
She treated his wound nicely, noticed that he had tried to patch it but the stitches weren't good. She placed a purple colored liquid on it and patched him up after. He had fallen asleep, or rather passed out during the process, she gazed as he laid asleep "what is it that people hate about you so much, I can't see it " she mumbled
She sat on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, made herself tea. Several minutes later Aleksander opened his eyes, looking at the top of Lisa's bed. His vision blurry and slow for the first few seconds.
He slightly got up, looked around, looked at Lisa sitting on that chair, he stood up slowly, made his way to the other chair.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she looked at him.
"You have a fireplace in here, nice" he said not looking at her
"Aleksander." he turned around meeting her eyes "how are you feeling?" "Alright" he paused "Thanks to you" "well thanks to my potion, not me" she said sipping from her cup "potion didn't make itself" he stated.
She laughed slightly "how did you get that?" she asked him "Hiero- Well Deimos stabbed me" he answered "wow, he must despise you."
The two started to talk, share stories or just talk, tease each other, joke.
"Why do they call you Darcy?" Lisa asked and the look in her eyes made it clear she really wanted that answer.
"It started off as a joke because I always wore dark colors, mostly black." he smiled slightly, his smile dropping again though "then it came as an insult, for I liked to stay away from lovely stuff as they recall them, because I was quiet and rather distant."
She tilted her head "I think you're fine".
He smiled "you might be the second person to ever call me by my actual name".
She smiled, and her eyes did too.
"What is your story" he asked.
"You know, grew up in Narkissia, became a doctor, got accused of witchcraft and banished in the forest" she said.
"No, not the story everyone knows, the story you want to be known, the part that matters to you."
Lisa's lips parted as she melted slightly.
He looked at her, clueless.
"I have a son, a beautiful great son, Adrian, he is my happiness and I am glad he is happy and not here." she smiled.
"Where is he now?" Aleksander asked
"He is away from here, he is married with a wonderful girl, Aria" she replied.
Aleksander smiled once again and Lisa chuckled . "What?" asked Aleksander "I didn't think you were capable of anything else than smirking and yet here you stand smiling, for the third time in just a few hours" he scoffed as he held himself from smiling while looking away "there it is again" she pointed at him as they both laughed.
Lisa noticed Aleksander's face as he grunted slightly when he stopped laughing "are you alright there?"she asked "yes yes it's just the wound" he said "I know it's the wound, that's why I'm asking Aleksander. " he chuckled slightly.
A little moment of silence, comfortable silence, followed.
"You know" he said "when I knocked on your door and said I didn't know where else to go" she interrupted him "no I  understand, I'm the only medic around" "no" he interrupted her "I didn't have anywhere else to go" he paused "I didn't want to go to anyone else" he stated and Lisa shook her head "they appreciate you Aleksander" she approached him to check his wound once again "you mean more than you think you do" he shook his head "not what I meant" he said as she looked at him with question "I can't find myself trusting anyone else with myself, but you" he looked away avoiding the view of her leaning down towards him, placing more potion on his wound, she looked at him, her gaze softening. He cringed in pain "sorry-" said Lisa "it's okay, it's alright" he assured her as he looked up at her looking at him.
She slowly found herself back to her chair and when she sat they began to talk once again, Lisa eventually fell asleep . Aleksander carried her to her bed, placed the sheets over her, made sure the fire was put out and left, shutting the door behind him slowly.
CHAPTER FIVE : connections
Morning finally arrived and things seemed simpler now, they knew what they were dealing with.
"Who would win in a fist fight." Eamon asked.
"Morgana. Fist fight or with weapons she would squash us like bugs." said Aleksander
"Really?" Eamon asked impressed
"Yes, Morgana is the greatest fighter among us four" Aleksander replied.
"Then why didn't she fight in the front lines the other day?"
"Someone needed to protect the civilians, so we sent the strongest alone"
"You don't say"
The Great Hall's door shut open as a woman entered "where's that shithead." she asked.
"Nafre?" said Aleksander and Eamon at the same time, as they turned to look at each other confused.
"I'm guessing that's Nafre" Lisa said sarcastically
"I think it's Nafre" Christopher went along with the joke.
Nafre looked at Aleksander "Bloody hell what are you doing here?" she asked .
"Then I guess you were calling me a shithead?" asked Eamon.
"Yes." she said "I told you to stop looking for me."
"I did." Eamon lied proudly.
"Yes? Then why did you cast a spell on me, a spell to find your way to me."
Eamon's proud smile fell "that was not me" he lied again.
"Really?" she raised her eyebrow "oh yes I forgot, you're not that strong brother." she teased him and it worked.
He cracked "oh come on, of course it was me" he smirked "who else would want to find you?"
Nevan chuckled as Nafre noticed him too.
"Mind telling me why are there all four of Rulers here?" Nafre asked.
"Mind telling me how you got past the guards?" Christopher asked.
"Nafre has a way with invasions, she is an expert and unless she wants to be seen you won't see her" said Aleksander.
"You know my sister?" Eamon looked at him
"I believe he made that clear when she entered and he said "Nafre" " said Morgana.
"Anyway" said Aleksander "sorry to tell you your guards are dead" he said as he patted Christopher's shoulder.
"First of all don't touch me and second of all" he paused "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE KILLING OF MY GUAR-" "shhhhh" she shushed him quickly "prepare me a bath I have a terrible headache" Christopher stood shocked, a huge continuing gasp followed. "Alright" said Nevan as he pushed Christopher away. "Why are you here?"
"For my brother of course" she said
"Sure you don't want coins?" said Aleksander
"That is in the past you shall forget it"
Nafre said very calmly.
"Did you steal from him too Nafre?" Eamon asked disappointed.
"No." she said
Christopher rubbed his forehead "my castle is filled with sorcerers" he mumbled repeatedly.
"You chanting something darling?" Nafre asked, trying to bother him.
"Now I need a bath" Morgana mumbled to herself.
"How do you know my sister?" Eamon turned to Aleksander. "She invaded my castle two years ago, snuck behind me secretly, placed a knife to my throat and threatened me to give her coins" Aleksander said freakishly calm. "And what did you do?" Eamon asked "gave her coins."
Nafre sat with them, next to her brother as he explained everything to her.
It was a simple day for all of them, less fear, less agony than there usually was.
Lisa approached Aleksander, stood behind him as he was sitting on his chair  "you forgot these yesterday" she handed him over his gloves as she talked lowly, he took them "you washed them?" he whispered "yes I hope that's okay" she whispered back, he turned his head to the side she was standing,  looking up at her as she looked down, his eyes softly gazing into hers. She slightly caressed his shoulder as she walked away.
Nafre raised an eyebrow as she leaned towards her brother to whisper "Lords, is anyone here single?" she chuckled "yes everyone except Christopher" he answered "you really have zero observation" she stated.
"What I don't understand" Nafre added, changing the subject "is why Deimos didn't kill you" she raised her finger pointing at Darcy "I mean he certainly had the opportunity" she raised her eyebrows as she sat, back resting on her chair.
Christopher's eyes narrowed "maybe he wanted to weaken you" he stated.
"No" Darcy spoke "if he wanted to weaken someone he would weaken Morgana, but since he already weakened her" he looked at Morgana's shoulder "the next person he would target would be Eamon or Nafre, but Nafre hadn't even arrived yet." he added
"I am flattered" Nafre spoke cocklily
Confused as she was Morgana spoke "this just doesn't make sense"
Darcy looked down, in his eyes a lost spark as his jaw clenched slightly.
"Yes, the next strongest person would be me" Christopher bragged, pride leading his mind.
Nevan scoffed.
"Maybe he wanted to make us get in an argument" said Eamon "argue about who is the strongest so that he could make our team fall apart" he raised his eyebrows repeatedly.
"You know" Nafre turned looking his way "you seem a lot more clever when you're not talking. Keep it that way." She smiled a smile of disappointment.
"Team" Christopher spoke, barely clear words but an exhale as he scoffed.
Nevan began to speak, changing the subject once again "we will need someone to exorcize the demon once we defeat him" he implied "or rather, exorcize the demon to defeat him" he blinked multiple times, his eyebrows raised, tired from all the thinking.
"I swear to God, if you bring another one of those" Christopher pointed at the sorcerers in the room "in my castle then I'm out"
"Oh please bring another one" Nafre sarcastically begged Nevan.
"I could help with that" a female voice not heard before, was now heard, all of them turning towards Christopher's way, looking at his left.
"She speaks" Nafre clearly teased.
Christopher looked at his wife, utterly terrified what does she mean by that , he thought to himself.
"You can exorcize demons?" Morgana asked worried for Kenna's sake.
"Well this is the kind of" with the corner of her eye she glanced at her husband "sorcery" she spoke with a burden leaving her lungs "my parents taught me to use"
Kenna spoke and along with the burden she carried, Christopher fell too, a thud echoing into the room, everyone turning towards the direction the sound came, finding Christopher's chair empty, him laying on the floor.
"Fantastic" said Darcy
"You don't say" Nafre smirked in satisfaction as she saw him this way.
"You're a sorcerer?" asked Nevan
"Didn't she just say that" Morgana stated as she awaited for Nevan to put his mind to work.
"Yes you're right" Nevan nodded.
Darcy snapped out of his thoughts once again "so we have what we need, we take him down, free the lost souls of our people" he spoke, seeming as if he was in a rush.
"Yes but in order for her to exorcize him we will need to fight and weaken him as much possible" Morgana implied as she grabbed her glass of wine.
Nafre scoffed "me and Eamon can use a spell, restrict his activity and him in a room, this way she can exorcize him as she stands outside the room, where she will be safe" she stated, with question in her words yet confidence in her eyes "there is no guarantee this will work though"
"We shall try" stated Morgana "we will try to weaken him any other way if that doesn't work" she added
"We will also need some of Lisa's potions for this" said Eamon.
"You will need medicine?" Morgana spoke clearly curious.
"Lisa is not just a medic" said Darcy "she is a scientist" he added "her potions are far more than just medicine" he kept speaking as his eyes never left the sight of his glass.
"Yes" said Eamon "Lisa's potion will amplify and bind Nafre's and my powers, so that we can do the restriction spell"
"Plus" Nafre interrupted her brother "we will use another potion, just in case we need to make the demon weaker" she finished.
"There is no guarantee the potion will work on the demon though" said Lisa "unless you're suggesting we blend it with some magic" she stated
"Yes, that's exactly what we're suggesting" Nafre spoke "thank God you're a catcher" she patted Lisa's back.
"What will you need to create the potions?" Nevan asked.
"I have a list" said Lisa "the location these herbs grow, is in Nandor" she added.
"Nothing as sweet as a visit home huh sister" Eamon looked at his sister.
"I can't believe I'm going there again" Nafre sighed as Eamon broke into laughing.
Christopher stood up "this is unbelievable" he stated "how many?" his eyes kept flinching as he was freaking out "how many sorcerers? My castle." he shivered "my wife" he put his hand on his chest as he dropped on the floor once again.
"Does he do that a lot?" Nafre asked pointing at him as her left eyebrow rose.
"Nope" said Eamon
"Perhaps you irritate him" Nevan said pointing at Nafre as he kept looking at Christopher with question
"Please, he is irritated by all of us" Lisa raised her brows, speaking with a tone as sharp as a blade.
"No not just us" Kenna stated "everything irritates him"
"Then he should be on the floor twenty four hours a day" Nafre rolled her eyes "might as well do us the favor of" she flicked her tongue and placed her finger in front of her neck, as she implied he would just die
"Nafre." Eamon spoke "please, behave" he spoke with audacity.
Morgana sat enjoying the show "council is dismissed" she said "once Nafre and Eamon are back, we begin."
Darcy got up first, making his way to his chamber rather quick, in a rush as he was.
Then followed the others, slowly marching towards their own chamber. Nevan carrying Christopher in his.
Kenna heading to the royal stables, escorting the two sorcerers before they would take the road that led home.
"Shall you get any of the horse's killed" said Kenna "I'll have your heads on sticks" she continued ironically but she was serious.
"You can have my head anywhere" Eamon winked. The Queen sighed slightly
"Behave." Nafre glared into her Brother's eyes, demanding him. "Your horses will be returned safe" she assured Kenna as she smiled making Nafre's cheeks slightly turn red.
Eamon observed as he hopped on his horse "oh man" he scoffed.
The two siblings began to ride fast, ready to face anything that could make their road difficult.
The sun began to set, Nevan walking through the corridors, making his way towards Morgana's room.
He knocked as he kept looking around awkwardly, the door in front of him opened as Morgana looked at him curiously.
"Nevan?" she spoke
"Hi" he smiled "I um" he made awkward movements "brought this" he raised his hand holding a little bottle filled with dark green liquid "some potion Lisa gave me" he smiled "for your shoulder" he looked at her shoulder as he said the word.
Morgana smiled "come in" she said and as he entered she closed the door behind him.
"Can you untie this?" She looked at the new cloth she had put on yesterday.
"Sure" he said approaching her
He gently,cautiously removed the cloth, making sure her body wouldn't even flinch from any kind of pain. She turned around looking at his eyes "thank you", her vocals loud yet soft. He nodded as he smiled.
She distanced herself placing the potion on her wound . "Looks much better than the first day" Nevan stated "yes" said Morgana "Lisa is indeed an excellent medic" she continued "you were right about her" "I know" said Nevan "I had to make sure the best of healers would come to us" he added "you made a great decision" she stated "I had to" he paused "you were injured" he said as he approached "allow me." he raised his hand holding a new, cleaner cloth, she nodded allowing him to wrap the cloth around her wound, the warmth of his skin making her blood flow quicker, her skin shiver in excitement.
"I miss you" said Nevan "I miss your touch,I miss your smile against my lips" his eyes and voice full of pain. "I miss you too" she said "but we can't" she added. "I know" he said "I know." he smiled, her hand barely rubbed his as she distanced herself.
"Rest well" he spoke "goodnight my lady" he exited the room as Morgana smiled with pain.
Nevan closed the door on his way out, taking a huge breath in. Outside he found Christopher waiting for him, judgment in his eyes.
"Nevan what were you doing in there" he asked.
"I delivered her a potion, helped her with her wound" Nevan answered
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. This matter has been over, for many years now" Nevan began to walk, Christopher walked alongside him. "I hope for your sake that's true" he said.
"It is true Christopher" said Nevan "you don't have to worry about it"
"I don't worry about it" he paused "I worry about your kingdoms. What will happen if you two get involved?"
"I told you, it's over" said Nevan
Christopher nodded. His sight fell upon Lisa stroding through the halls, he narrowed his eyes but he couldn't care less about where she was headed.
"You shall get married soon" Christopher spoke to Nevan.
"What?" Nevan asked as he stopped walking.
"You heard me" Christopher's face formed an expression, one that awaited for Nevan to see how logical Christopher thought to be.
Nevan shook his head slightly as he chuckled "why get married?"
"Well you must get married sometime" Christopher said as he smiled "don't you think that as a king you shall?"
"Well" Nevan spoke "Darcy is not married, same goes for Morgana."
"First of all, I'm sure there are no volunteers for Darcy." he stated "As for Morgana, she should get married too"
"Yeah well. We still have time" said Nevan as he started walking, faster than he did before.
"Wait" Christopher whispered "wait for me moron!" he whispered louder.
Lisa knocked on Aleksander's door as he shouted "come in" , Lisa opened the door, finding Aleksander sat on the chair behind his desk, papers spread all over it, his head rested on his hand that lied against the hand of the chair, his other hand holding a silver cup that stank of wine, a scent filling the entire room. Perhaps what smelled was Aleksander himself.
"May I help you?" he spoke as he took a sip.
She approached him, taking a look at all the papers on his desk, pages of Malachi's diary, pages of magic books.
Lisa narrowed her eyes "what is it" she paused "what has been bothering you"
He opened his mouth but she interrupted him "and don't tell me about the "I'm fine" bullshit." she snapped as he stood up approaching her "something has been bothering you ever since that demon appeared, you were okay for a while but then there it is again, you're all fake smiles and fake confidence. " he stood in front of her his eyes avoiding hers.
He took a folded paper out of his pocket, unfolding it he showed it to her "does this remind you of someone?" he asked showing her the sketch on the paper. Her eyebrows narrowed as she looked at the sketch "looks like" she paused as she looked at him "you" , her vocals unsure of what she had said. "My thoughts exactly" he said as he gave her the paper, her look confused, clearly confused, she held the paper looking at it her eyes scanning it.
"Apparently Malachi had a liking for drawing, sketching." Aleksander said before he sipped from his glass. "And that thing you're looking at" he paused "is a sketch of Deimos" he raised his eyebrows and shook his head as his voice cracked from pain.
"Is this from Malachi's diary?" she asked as she stopped looking at the drawing, focusing on Aleksander standing behind it.
"Yes" he said.
"And what are you implying?" she asked, suspecting where this was going.
"My mother" he began to speak "she died giving birth to me. My father kept telling me that she was a healthy woman and she had died because of me, that I wasn't supposed to be born" Lisa's gaze softened "I never understood what he meant until a few days ago" "Deimos is your father" said Lisa "that's what you understood?" Aleksander raised his hands up "Bingo" he said as wine fell on the floor.
Lisa's gaze turned into an angry one as she tore the page into pieces. She then approached him, Aleksander stood perplexed, his brows narrowed. "Do you seriously think that it matters who your father is?" she spoke "do you think that will determine who you are Aleksander?" words kept flowing "those thoughts of yours are as good as an arrow meant to go right through your chest." she placed her finger on the left side of his chest, aiming at his heart. "Do you believe that's why he kept you alive? That he is planning to do something with you?" she paused "you are the one who determines who you are."
"Stop it" he said as he withdrawed slightly.
"You're alive, that's what matters, not why."
He seized her hand tenderly, wary not to harm her in any way "Enough" he spoke with a weak tone, looking down into her eyes, his sight lifeless, sorrowful. "I never said I was not fine" he said in a sardonic way.
Lisa saw right through him, he was not okay and there was nothing she could do, that's what she thought.
On the other side of the long hall Nevan entered his room completely ignoring Christopher's puppy behavior as he followed him around.
Nevan shut the door closed behind him, taking his long jacket off, as he unbuttoned his shirt while feeling uneasy he sat at the chair behind his desk.
The fire of the fireplace already heating up the room, waiting for him to find comfort in it.
He rested back throwing his head behind, leering at the ceiling, a mind full of thoughts, a heart full of choices.
Snapping out of it he sat straight, looking at the folded documents he had waiting for him on the right side of his desk.
Christopher's words made him feel troubled.
"What is it with everyone telling me to get married." Nevan spoke to himself as if he was waiting for an actual answer.
Nevan thought about his mother how she would always tell him to find himself a queen, to seal his future. Nevan always scoffed and chuckled at her words, ignoring them. Now she could be gone, or perhaps she was somewhere safe, but there was no guarantee he would see her again.
He began to scroll through the folders full of paintings of women and their info, deals for marriage.
Never before, even as he was meditative, the thought of marriage never even crossed his mind. However his mother's absence along with Christopher's sayings and the fact he and Morgana had no future together made him reconsider.
He fancied thinking about himself as his wife rode with him, as she ate with him sharing her thoughts, embracing her through the entire night as they laid gazing at the fireplace as a fire cracked in the tiled grate. Who he found himself thinking though about was Morgana.
Nevan began to daydream, look back at the times he had to sneak in and out Morgana's room, the rush that filled his veins, his beating heart barely holding on for dear life.That's how much he loved her, dangerously.
Morgana and Nevan got evolved with each other when they were teenagers, they lasted until two years ago at the age of 22 each.
Marrying each other would mean their kingdoms would collide, that would not seem the best for their people as one of the two kingdoms would eventually fade or be rather abandoned.
Nevan rubbed his forehead, throwing the files away, slighty pushing the desk away as a feeling of injustice filled his lungs up.
Walking towards the wine cellars he stood outside Morgana's chamber, fighting the urge to knock on her door. He stood there gloomy, he felt tense after he finally continued his way.
He eventually found himself in the wine cellar, regret consumed him even so he grabbed three of the finest bottles and then he headed back to his chamber, laying on his bed awake all night.
"Kenna is interesting"  Eamon spoke teasing his sister as he rode, chewing the edge of a long, little stick as he rode.
Nafre ignored his comment, not giving any sign that she heard him, ignoring him successfully. Eamon chuckled "what is more interesting is the disease you'll catch because of that filthy stick you hold in your mouth." she said smoothly, sharply as Eamon allowed the stick to drop on the floor displeased as he was.
"When we arrive" Nafre said as she laid a look at the stick they were leaving behind "we will not be paying any visits to any, and I underline the world any, relatives." she finished. Eamon scoffed as he rolled his eyes while he slightly grinned.
The siblings arrived at the village around midnight, they left their horses to rest as they decided to rent a cabin.
"One or two beds?" spoke the tall gray looking man behind the reception desk. "Two." they both replied awfully quickly, the man raised an eyebrow "oh" he paused "we only got rooms with one" , Nafre threw a heavy sack of golden coins on the desk, glazing at the man expressionless. "We can do something about that-" Nafre interrupted him "just take the money and give us the keys" she demanded.
He immediately handed them the keys allowing them to walk away. Eamon leaned towards his sister as they headed towards the hall leading to the cabins "what just happened?" he asked purely confused. "He saw how much we did not want to share a bed, so he thought he would make some money out of that fact." said Nafre.
At the same time at the palace, two of the four Rulers rested as the one drunk through the whole night and the other sat thinking about anything that could drag his mind away from reality.
Nevan drank and he drank, until the three bottles of his were left with not even a single drop of liquid in them. He found himself in his bed, managed to sleep without even realizing it.
Aleksander sat on his chair, sipping from his glass, little by little, drop after drop. Lisa watched distressed, she refused to leave him knowing his mind was that troubled.
Aleksander never allowed what occupied him to occupy others, he never let his personal thoughts be a problem to anyone else, he barely even shared his joy.
Seeing him in that position made her quiver, he showed her weakness, he allowed her near his blind spots. Though she knew for certain there was no way he would have opened up if he wasn't drunk. She did hope though, she hoped he would remember this moments tomorrow.
"Aleksander" she spoke softly "you need to rest" she added.
He didn't even care to stand up, obvious to her that he was dizzy, despite him standing confidently and his movements being smooth, his eyes glowed a powerful glimpse.
Lisa crossed the room, made her way to the desk taking the glass from his hands, holding it. "Now let's go" she spoke as he looked at her unmoved, unimpressed. "It's time for sleep" she pointed at his bed "thanks Lisa" he spoke "but I can make my own decisions, for myself" he rested against the chair "can you now?" she asked raising an eyebrow "now remind me" she placed her pointing finger on her chin, tapping it "is it you who decides whether you are drunk or not, or is it the amount of alcohol you have consumed?" she continued. "well I do decide how much I drink" he paused "so.." he grinned as she scoffed.
He took grip of the wine bottle as she raised her left eyebrow judging him "well" she approached him once again "you can have this" she raised the wineglass she was holding, presenting it to him "if you give me that" with her other hand she pointed at the bottle. "Now why would that benefit me?" his brows he raised "It's about manners" Lisa slightly tilted her head "what kind of a king are you?" she said scornfully. He froze from surprise, how clever, how cunning she was. "Fine" he said "just a glass is fine for me" he added.
He handed her the bottle and as she put her grip around it she downed the drink in the glass, leaving him with an empty glass, Aleksander's jaw slightly dropping. "There you go, just a glass , for you my king ."
And just like that she walked away, taking all the alcohol away from him and his poor, tortured stomach. Aleksander watching mesmerized by her actions and movement.
He eventually allowed himself to rest into the cold, comfy sheets.
On the other side of the huge Land, Elios had fallen in the hands of evil. The castle and the area around it was surrounded and filled with darkness. A dark gray atmosphere making the aura sorrowful, menacing.
CHAPTER SIX : uneasy
"You're late, Deimos." a man's voice, an alluring tone echoed in the dark abandoned, ruined Great Hall. "It's been days since your visit to our four little Rulers."
Deimos had just entered the room.
"I needed to feed" said Deimos as arrogance was noticeable in his tone "besides, casting such a powerful illusion spell was not that easy" he continued as he approached, throwing a glaze towards the throne the other man sat.
"Illusion spell?" the man raised his eyebrows "please, you just had to turn some corpses into elves." he spoke as he smiled deviously.
"I had to find the corpses and bring them to a half alive stage first." Deimos spoke proudly of his achievement "not that I care if you understand that" he added.
"It's been three hundred years Deimos. I think I do understand" the man rested against the throne, putting his one leg above the other.
Deimos scoffed before he chuckled "you don't understand shit, boy. There is nothing that our kind has in common, thus there is no way you can understand the power, the dark sorcery I hold in my hands." he said
"There is" the man spoke "there is more than one thing that our kinds have in common."
"Oh really? And what are those things?" asked Deimos, certain the man would not have any answers.
"Sex. For starters." the man spoke as Deimo's proud face dropped and displeasure and spite took its place "you like sex do you not?" the man ironically frowned as he tilted his head "I mean you did have it with a.. mortal was it?" the man's irony kept flowing as he kept on being scathing towards the demon "oh yes, Queen Yaminah. May she rest in peace."
Deimos stared at the man, unmoved. "Funny." he spoke with a tone so lifeless. The man laughed, a long lasting laugh showing his emotions as he left a breath of pleasure, relief at the end. "But except the act of love, the desire for powerful, pretty women, we have one more thing in common" his face serious out of a sudden "revenge." hatred in his eyes for a split second, spite in his tone as he said the last word.
Deimos still stood there, not caring about the man's sayings, though he knew he was right.
"And how did you feed?" the man decided to change the subject. "You know, the easiest way" Deimos paused "used spiders, they make humans so terrified." he added as the man's face cringed slightly "how I hate spiders." he spoke. "I'll feed off you next time" "I said I hate them, not that I fear them." "Yes yes, whatever you say."
In Nandor things were beginning to look brighter, as the sun was setting, making the beautiful view of the flowers spread in the village even more magical.
"For God's sake wake up" said Nafre with a tone annoyed as she threw water on her brother's face, Eamon jumped awake shaking his head quickly. Nafre watched as she judged him, questioning if they were truly siblings. Eamon looked at her in pure shock and offended "I've been calling your name and shaking you for twenty fucking minutes now. You wouldn't wake up." she spoke as she walked away, already ready for the road, Eamon looked outside calmly, noticed that the sun was still rising, his eyes flicked open "It's 6 in the bloody morning!" he whined loudly, throwing his pillow on his face, laying back.
"Get up lazyass" said Nafre gathering her stuff. "Nah" Eamon practically hissed "I am not asking" Nafre stated, still not looking at him "five more minutes Nafre." he tried convincing her, but as soon as she looked at him he immediately stood up.
"I gathered your stuff already, now we just have to leave" said Nafre , "you gathered my stuff? Then why didn't you allow me the pleasure to sleep a bit more?" he asked raising his hands "what part of we have to go do I need to explain to you?" she turned to look at him "where are we going, why do we have to go so early?" he asked as she blinked multiple times, hoping he would have understood her question was a rhetorical one, "well first of all, where we are going we need it to be day. Secondly and most importantly we are in a middle of a crisis so any time we can save we shall do so." she answered anyway.
He narrowed his eyes "where are we going?" he asked "in the enchanted forest." she replied emotionless as she prepared her weapons "in the enchan-" Eamon shook his head as he blinked uncontrollably "Nafre. We didn't even go there when we were young and foolish, it is dangerous." he stated "you still are a fool, I still am young" she kept answering him, expressionless. "I am younger than you." he implied "well I look younger than you."
And so the two siblings began to make their way towards the little forest into the Nandor village.
As the sun rose higher, the people at Damia started their days too.
Aleksander woke up before anyone else, he went outside to practice his sword skills, his stamina, his endurance first thing in the morning. He then sank his body in warm water, finding relief.
Christopher and Kenna were the first to make it to the Great Hall, before breakfast was served. Christopher kept his distance ever since Kenna announced her secret, he still hadn't spoken to her ever since, the two of them slept in separate chambers.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Kenna
Christopher merely turned his head her way as he clenched his jaw.
"Why is it so bad that I am a sorcerer?" Kenna spoke as she narrowed her eyes.
"You know damn well how I feel about sorcerers Kenna." Christopher spoke "you knew, even before we got together. Yet you deceived me. You kept deceiving me all this time." Christopher looked at her
"I could not choose what my parents taught me as a child, as soon as I got with you I never once lifted a finger towards magic's way." Kenna snapped.
"Why does that matter?" Christopher asked
"It shows that I cared for you." said Kenna
"It shows how you didn't" Christopher thought he had corrected her.
Kenna tilted her head "it is not your fault Christopher" she paused "it is not your fault that you were taught magic is vile, but that is not true. There will come a day where you will understand that." she continued.
Christopher just looked away, ignoring her sayings.
Lisa entered the room, breaking the awful awkward silence. She looked at them curiosity hosted in her eyes before she finally took a seat.
Morgana and Darcy came at the same time, they had met while walking in the hallway. Morgana seems fresh, she must have slept a good long sleep. Aleksander looks fresh himself, though his eyes give it away that his sleep was a terrible one. Thought Lisa as she observed everyone.
"Where the hell is Nevan?" Christopher asked as breakfast had already been served. "That boy. So irresponsible." he added.
"Maybe something happened to him" Darcy stated calmly yet in an sarcastic way.
"he never misses any meals" Lisa spoke, her tone even more sardonic than Aleksander's.
"I'll go check" said Morgana as she stood up quickly, walking out of the room.
Christopher rubbed his forehead as he kept mumbling to himself how stupid everyone was.
Morgana rushed through the halls, curiosity crossing her mind. She burst Nevan's door open as she entered calmly.
She scoffed as she found him asleep on his bed, bottles of wine on the floor, his desk, near his bed. She approached him slowly, her hand she raised towards his way as she felt the urge to gently shake him awake, though she didn't give in.
At the moment she felt some sort of anger towards him, a sense of disappointment perhaps. She smacked the back of his head with her palm as he raised his head quickly. He turned and looked at her in great question, his eyes narrowed. "Morning." said Morgana "..Morning" Nevan replied as he stood up holding the back of his head, Morgana raised her left brow "what is it?" she asked obviously teasing him, the fact she was mad was noticeable. "Nice way to wake up" Nevan faked a smile as he put his thumb up, Morgana grinned.
"You're late for breakfast" she spoke
"What??" Nevan made neurotic, quick movement making his need for food obvious.
"Relax." Morgana interrupted his panicking "the food will still be there when you get ready. It's not going anywhere" she continued.
Nevan formed a slight pout "are you alright?" he asked.
"I am alright" she looked at him "are you?"
"Yes I think I am" he rubbed his nape
"Really?" she asked as she crossed her arms, looking at the bottle right next to his bed "then the drinks did a great job" she stated judging him, very clearly.
Nevan's jaw dropped in realization as he followed her gaze. She caught him looking, her eyes staring directly at his face, making him nervous. Her face emotionless, empty, or rather angry but he could tell only by her eyes.
"I just wanted to drink, really I'm okay" he smiled as he removed his hand from his nape. "I'm sorry" his vocals so innocent.
His smile, his words, making her gaze soften, her whole expression lighten up. "Go grab a piece of clothing and we are going for breakfast" she spoke not too softly but gently as he realized he was missing a shirt.
"Will you" he paused "wait for me?".
Morgana blinked quite a few times "sure" she said.
"Thank you" he said smiling.
Morgana proceeded to smile back "I'll be right there" she pointed at the side of the room where the desk was "but don't take too long, I'm hungry."
Nevan nodded.
On the desk as Morgana awaited for him to dress her eye got caught up on the papers spread on it. The marriage applications covering at least half of the desk. Her eyebrows frowned as she scanned the information.
(End of part 2, continuing)
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nunchucksnun · 2 years
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@incorrect-madnesscombat I had to draw this one too :D
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writersmilex · 2 years
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Helping Hand
2Bdamned X Reader.
Summary : (Y/n) does more than help Doc with his work, they help him get healthier too.
I’m really proud of this one! 
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(art by :  BATAsii8989 on Twitter)
Up to the chin stuck in all this work, it feels like he's doing it all by himself!
He wants to do it by himself, for then he has control over everything that happens and nothing can get out of hand. But it has gotten out of hand now. His head on his desk, trying to soothe his pounding headache. It really is too much this time, and he can't drop these tasks he accepted to do.
While squinting his eyes closed, he can only hear the door to his office space open and someone walk in. The footsteps are too soft to belong to either Hank or Sanford, too slow to match Deimos' Then who is it? "ugh, what is it now?" Doc grumbles, finally raising his head to look at whoever entered the room. It's you, standing there with a steaming cup of some hot beverage. There is a sincere look on their face as they approach him slowly. "You look like you could use this." you chuckle lightly, placing the hot beverage; which appears to be coffee before him.
Doc lets out a deep sigh, "thanks..." He gingerly takes the cup, lowering his face coverage to take a drink. You glance over at all the work that 2Bdamned had accepted to do. It really is a lot. While 2Bdamned is refuelling. You grab one of the task reports and take a look at it. Examining the report, it looks easy enough, something in your skill range. "Do you want me to help you?" They ask, already half expecting his answer already. Doc finishes his drink and readjusts his mask. "What is there you can do to help me?" He asks, looking up from his hunched-over position.
"well... I can do this?" You raise the report that you're holding, "It's a simple spying mission, I can do this one for you." You smile brightly. Doc ponders, scratching his right arm while thinking hard. Should he let you take this mission and help him. "uh... Don't you have your own mission to worry about?" He questions, leaning back to sit back straight. Feels better for his back. You shake your head, "No... I could totally do this Doc. I'll give you all the credit too!" you just keep pushing to let you take this task.
Doc sighs through his nose, looking up at you from his hunched-over position. Scanning the task, it looks like something that your skill-set is matching. You are more specialized in stealth than the others he's close to. A spying mission sounds like your type of gig.
"alright, (Y/n). You may take this one..." He wishes he could rub his eyes now, but unfortunately he still has his goggles on. Your smile widens, then you lunge at him, wrapping their arms around his neck and trapping him in a hug. Catching 2Bdamned off guard for a second. "Thanks, Doc. I won't let you down!" You laugh and pull away from the man. Without saying anything, (Y/n) dashes off. Most likely to prepare for their new mission.
At least there is one task taken care of, 2Bdamned is gonna take a 2-hour nap before resuming with his work.
~~~~
After the grand success of your latest mission, you keep requesting to take over some of Doc's work. It has been a great help to him, although he wouldn't admit that upfront. He gives you the easy jobs, so he can worry about the tougher ones.
But it wasn't only gigs that you help with. No...
"Doc, I think it's about time you get some rest. And no, you've had enough coffee for tonight," you say, looking down at the several empty coffee mugs all collected in a pile of empty dishes. You look over at 2B; who can barely keep himself up. He needs to rest now. "I'm fine..." He slurs, it's a useless excuse and he knows it and you don't buy it one bit.
"I can see right through your excuses Doc. C'mon get up." You walk over, grabbing him from under his arms to lift him out of his chair. Then you manoeuvre one of his arms over your shoulders and take him to his quarters, which is a room away from his office space.
Then you help Doc lay in bed. "I want you to sleep and rest now. Full energy equals full productivity." They raise a good point as they attempt to tuck him in a little bit. At the point that You are about to take off his face coverage to make sleeping a bit more comfortable for him, but 2Bdamned stops you by snatching you by the wrist. "sorry, sorry... Should've asked." You apologize meekly and pull your hand away from his grip. Doc grumbles something, then squirms to get more comfortable. Sleep already taking over his consciousness. "good night, Doc." You whisper and get up to leave the room, leaving 2Bdamned by himself. And it doesn't take long for the well-needed slumber to overcome him.
~~~~
And then, the workload was suddenly a whole lot lighter. His mood was a bit better and he didn't feel as tired as usual. Without your... help. He would have had a work burn-out for certain. Speaking of,  It's the usual time for you to arrive at his office space. The door slides open, revealing the person he's been waiting for. Holding now two mugs of coffee, one for yourself.
"ah... Job well done!" You cheer, walking over to hand 2Bdamned his drink. Him mumbling a quick "thank you" You take a quick sip of their drink, still a little too hot for their liking and burning the very tip of your tongue. You grimace and lower the mug down, turning to the man beside them. "So? What's next?" asks, referring to the work and missions. 2Bdamned shrugs in response, "The pile is shrinking, and there is rarely any new tasks adding onto it actually." Doc explains, gesturing to the stack of reports that were once so high.   "Damn." You mumble, looking around the room for any sign of another stock of tasks elsewhere
2Bdamned feels a little guilty. He knows that you have done your very best to help him with his tasks and help you did indeed. He pushes himself away from his desk to look at you. "You have done well (Y/n)..."
"hmm?" you hum in surprise, having finished your hot beverage by now. 2Bdamned rubs the back of his neck nervously, "You helping me... I mean." He says. Why is this so difficult? "Thank you, I appreciate your help," Doc mutters out. Still loud enough for you to hear. You smile brightly a light blush present on your face, "Any time Doc. You're very welcome!" you laugh. And 2Bdamned can feel his face feeling warmer underneath his mask. You put your mug down and once again, move over to Doc and hug him around his neck just like you have done before. And he this time, returning the embrace. Gently patting you on the back a few times.
You pull away and let out a huge yawn. Exhaustion from lack of sleep and all this work catching up with you. Doc chuckles as he watches you tiredly rub your eye to try and get the sleep out. "I think it's time for you to get some rest." He says with a playful tone. He's finally got a comeback for all those times that you have told him the same thing. You can't help but laugh as well, "Ahaha, Yeah... you're right." You giggle, dust off your clothes and get ready to leave the room and go to bed.
"Rest well (Y/n)!" Doc calls after you as you leave the room. You wave in response, "You too!" This is the last thing you say before leaving.
And now that you're off the bed, Doc feels like it's time to also get to sleep himself.
_____________________________________ There we go! Wasn't that cute??
Thanks for reading - Smilex
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rotshop · 3 years
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hiiiiiii i have a disease,,,im gonna make a seperate post for 8 other characters i had in mind w/ this same prompt for the sake of me not dying <3
anyway here's a few random madcom characters + an animal s/o because im deranged <3333333
Hank
-this one is a LITTTLEE easy i will admit but,,,Cat,,,,,it just fits!!!!
-he's very good at just kind of. dealing with whatever it is that you kinda throw at him. if you randomly decide you wanna try and take up all the space on his bed (good luck, its fucking Big) that's ok, he'll just lay down next to you somehow. if you decide you wanna lay on him then whoops!! he's stuck there till you get up now lol. (the amount of times deimos and sanford come back from missions and just see him sitting on the couch with you laying on his lap is uncountable,,,each time he just makes a gesture for them to be quiet so they dont wake you)
-VERY gentle w/ you, especially after becoming a mag. he always pets you very carefully with his more normal hand because he's scared of hurting you (there was one time he'd accidentally nicked you a little with his claws and he felt SO bad, kept fussing and asking if you were alright afterwards)
-you both purr!! his is a little louder than yours naturally but he kind of. tries to force it to be quieter because he wants to hear you :[ you kind of. get him into the habit of not doing that so instead he just lays his head on your chest or stomach so he can hear / feel it
-he can pick you up so easily its really funny. exactly ONE time on a mission where you were about to get hit from behind while dealing with another grunt and he just like??? SWEPT you up off the ground and wrecked their shit. the entire time you're just kind of there like 🧍
Sanford
-I'm so serious about this one dont even TALK to me. bnnuy.
-HE JUST THINKS UR CUTE!!!!,,,,ur a lot smaller in comparison to him (dont even get him started on how you look standing next to hank or any mag agents) and it makes him go :] ,,, on that note 9/10 he's carrying you around, he just likes picking you up and holding you since it's real easy and its a way of keeping you close to him (also he likes showing off his strength to you a little bit but shhh)
-rip to you though because you've got more sensitive hearing and. if you've heard his voice lines. then you know. this man. isn't always the quietest. BUT as soon as he noticed how you kinda flinch whenever he's yelling something on a mission or to one of the others then he apologizes a bunch and does his best to keep it to a minimum around you,,
-deimos is a menace and he would try and get san to confess to you a bunch'a times and it would usually just end in him trying to like. cover your ears or something so he can tell deimos to stfu. it barely works but its funny as fuck to see your confused expression and sans flustred one to dei
-all in all he just thinks you're really cute and kind of funny...sometimes you just kind of. sit down next to him and kind of stare because you want him to pet you lmao. on that same note at some point you just kinda. got into the habit of coming to his room to lay down with / around him and he just <:']
Sheriff
-AS MUCH AS I LOVE CATPERSON + SHERIFF,,,fox,,,,,,,,
-You're incredibly sly and fast, directly complimenting his more flighty nature. he is a coward who avoids danger and you ARE said danger, u are fucking deranged <3. at first he kinda thought of you as an enemy because you kept swooping in and saving him but the entire time you kind of. dragged him around like a ragdoll SJFFDJWCDS,,,you're running off as you pull him by the hand to follow you and you like. looked over your shoulder and gave this fanged smile back at him and he just . his brain fucing exploded you killed him. he didn't stop thinking abt it for like 3 days.
-anyways. you run circles around him its crazy, you two playfight and roughouse a lot. however he did have to ban you from biting too hard because you accidentally drew blood one time,,,,,u were apologetic and you kept checking the wound to make sure it was ok and that he was doing alright,,he wont admit it but he thought it was funny to see you all worried abt him, teases you about it but you just bare your fangs (jokingly) and threaten to do it again. he just gets flustered and rolls his eyes with a little scoff.
-you make a lot of like. squeaks and yips when you're excited or otherwise kinda worked up and he thinks they're real funny. he tries to imitate them but he ends up failing and 10/10 you hear his voice crack BUT he still considers it a win when it makes you laugh so :)
-admittedly he does poke and prod a lot lmao. he likes to trace your paws and to kinda. brush against your claws a little because he thinks they're really cool. also again this mans fucking weird, he's stuck his hand in your mouth before because he wanted to fuck w/ ur sharp teeth again. you bit him. he does not do this anymore.
Hofnarr
-(looks at a very specific mutual) hey. yeah no hof cat s/o lol
-he just!!! thinsk you're neat :) he really likes how sweet you can be and also still be evil and fucked up if you so please. you cause problems on purpose and he has to get you out of trouble lmao, SO...most times you just kinda stick around him (unless u have ur own work to do) and watch what he does. sometimes he'll have you help him out with certain things, eventually you kind of just. start picking up knowledge abt this and the first time you say something before he almost messes up on something he's just kinda 'oh yeah ur right....HEY WAIT YOU REMEMBERED-' he doesn't know WHY but it just makes him happy
-it is. admittedly. a little nerve wracking. to be nonhuman. in a lab that sometimes experiments on people. and nonhuman people. for some kind of obvious reasons. so he gets a little nervous about that sometimes. he does his best to kind of keep you out of serious trouble bc of that, keeps you away from phobos or any of his higher ups like him as much as he possibly can because he's scared of what they might do to you :[
-ON A MORE LIGHT HEARTED NOTE,,,u two stay up pretty late at the lab a lot. you just kinda help him out and you both get carried away. it's not an uncommon sight to any night guards or janitors to see you both talking in the dark with only like. a kinda dim lamp on as you both work. its like 1/4 you actually getting things done and 3/4s you two just talking about whatever comes into mind, he shows his more casual and laid-back nature in these moments especially. also not uncommon for people to see you both passed out in his lab curled up against eachother lol
-pets you absentmindedly a lot,,he isn't sure why he does it he just!! does!! he just kinda subconsciously reaches for you (sometimes you have to kinda. put your head under his hand for him which he appreciates). also likes messing with ur paws and claws a little, he's a lot more careful though since he's nicked himself on your nails before
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gh0styyt0astyy · 2 years
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OKAY OKAY UH WHAT DEIMOS GAVE SANFORD RASPBERRIES
*RUNS AWAY*
✨ [That’s unfair!!] ✨
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⭐️ [Summary] — Sanford and Deimos are roughhousing, Deimos decides to play unfair.
⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; SHIPPING (barely mentioned) ; if u dont like then scroll on cos im not hurtin nobody <3
⭐️ [Prompt/s] — 19 / 30 (from this list I THINK) / ask above
Uhhhh Ghosty’s writing again pog 😎 also I decided I’d just get straight Into It so if its short thats why but anyway!
key:
sanford
deimos
requests: closed. i am clearing out my inbox.
✨ Enjoy ! ✨
——————
It happened quickly, one minute Sanford and Deimos were rolling around on the bed- the next, Sanford was half hanging off of it with Deimos sat on his waist.
“Deimos what the fuck— lemme up.” Sanford looked at Deimos, pushing himself up slightly on his hands.
“Mm. Nah.” Deimos shook his head, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his elbows. “Ugh. Fine, you win. Now lemme up.” Deimos quirked an eyebrow. “Who said we were done?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as Sanford gave him a confused look.
“What does that mean? You literally have me here unmovIHIHING—!” Sanford suddenly squeaked, eyes widening as he felt Deimos’ claws skitter around. “Ohoho noHOHO— DeiMOHOS NOT AGAHAHIN!”
“Yeaaah, again! Remember when you and Hank teamed up on me? After I had done nothing wrong to you?”
“Thahahat’s such bullshihihit!”
“Well anyway, I’m gonna make you sorry!”
Deimos kneaded into Sanford’s sides, never lingering in one spot for long before his hands jumped elsewhere. Sanford squirmed desperately in Deimos’ hold, trying to free himself while remaining on the bed and not falling off.
“Deimohohos!” Sanford yelped, his body jolting when Deimos’ thumbs slid under the waistband of his pants. “NONONO— DEIMOHOS NAHAHT THEHEHERE!”
“Oooh! Right here’s bad?” Deimos cooed, digging his thumbs and claws into the skin there. Kneading and lightly scratching. Deimos felt a pout pull his face when he noticed Sanford muffling his laughter.
“Well that’s not fair…I love seeing you laugh! Why are you depraving me?” He huffed, quickly smiling. “Hmm. How about…”
Sanford continued to laugh and wheeze into his hands, eyes screwed shut as his muscles twitched underneath Deimos’ unrelenting fingers. He listened to Deimos talk, trying to ignore the dreadful feeling that pooled in his stomach.
Immediately though, Sanfords eyes shot open and his hands immediately fell from his mouth, shoving at Deimos’ head.
“NONONO— NOHOHO STAHAHAP! DEIHIHIMOHOHOHOS—!!” He shrieked, throwing his head back in louder, harder laughter as Deimos drew out a long raspberry on his stomach, above his navel. “STAHAHAHP— I YEILD! I YEHEHEILD!” Sanford snorted, feet stamping on the mattress as Sanford went limp.
Deimos spared Sanford, lifting his head from his boyfriend’s stomach and smiling widely; he moved one hand up to Sanford’s stomach, scratching lightly while the other hand stayed where it was, along Sanford’s hips.
“Aww. I didn’t know you had such a ticklish tummy!”
“I hahahate yOHOU!” Sanford yelped, jolting as Deimos’ other hand started scratching on his stomach too. “And you snorted— that was fucking adorable. Who would’ve thought that someone as big and strong as you could melt like this all because of some tickles?”
Sanford pushed at Deimos’ wrists, giggling at the onslaught of light tickles along his stomach and sides.
“I~ wanna hear that snort again.” Deimos said, suddenly digging eight fingers into Sanford’s hips, grinning at the jolt of Sanford and the giggling and snorting laughter that left him.
“Yeaaah there it is! I knew it was in there soooomewheeere~!”
“Eehehee- Dei- Deimohos— *snrt!* eeHEHEP! Stohoop it!” Sanford panted as he felt Deimos’ hands retreat, resting on his stomach and patting lightly.
“Heh. I didn’t overdo it, did I?” Deimos asked, rubbing a gentle circle into Sanford’s leg. Sanford shook his head- still snorting slightly from the ghost sensations he felt.
“Y-yohou’re so mehehean to me.” He whined, sitting up and pushing Deimos’ shoulder, grumbling as the man kissed his cheek. “Only because I love you~”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Sanford rolled his eyes with a grin, resting his head on Deimos’ shoulder.
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schzunabe · 2 years
Note
hello about the sanford/deimos thing ya think san would have used his hook for the kill? :]
thinks about how if he ever realizes what he'd done/gets unpossesed/un-auditored (??? or whatever you call it) he'd probably never use it again, something he has an attachment to that suddenly gets a whole new meaning and turns from a what is likely a comfort item to such a huge source of trauma.
i imagine if he was ever accepted back in the group with han and dei and them he'd be scared to use or hold any sort of weapon in their presence - at least i would be. it could even get a tad severe, where san slowly starts to avoid dei and other group members all together.
deimos (after doc likely revives him) obviously aint gonna let this slide, so he confronts sanford during a mission (amazing timing, in my personal opinion) about his aversion to weapons/closed off-ness and tells him he understood that it wasnt something he could control and that he still loved him deeply. after their conversation, san feels much better emotionally. the feeling still lingers a bit, but its better than before. they continue on the mission as normal.
well, for the most part. theres something about deimos' body language and the way he holds himself and sometimes the way he looks at sanford - or, rather, refuses to look. that was a big thing for deimos, eye contact. something was wrong and san, still recovering emotionally, believes it may be his fault for dei's despair.
san pulls dei to the side and asks whats up. dei tries to deflect but when san apologized hes like "wtf do you have to apologize for, big guy?"
"i killed you, it's no wonder you dont want to talk to me! it's perfectly natural, but i want to make sure youre okay. i can leave if it makes you more comfortable."
deimos almost laughs. "leave? i need you here, sanford." and he tells him that hes just mad at himself for being unable to snap him out of it. wasnt their love strong enough? thats usually how that stuffed worked in the shows hes heard about, something about true love. wasnt that how it was supposed to work? was he simply not good enough?
sanford immediately goes "omfg you goddamn idiot" probably kisses him on the lips and goes "thats not how it fucking works but i love you for trying" lmaO deimos cackles so loud at that and san cracks up along with him. the two are not immediately better, but they can get through this together.
sanford still cant touch that retched hook, forever stained in deimos' blood. he still hasnt thrown it away. it meant so much to him before, yet how can he bare to ever use it again?
u get what you wish for ig!
- the anon whos brain u told to rot ^-^ /lh (a tad anxious but yea!! :chucks this mess at your face with all the force i can muster:)
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/POSITIVE
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yallmakemyassitch · 2 years
Note
2 4 5 7 8 9 tickle dynamic for San and Dei?
(idk how to explain much on what I'm asking rn-)
them✨
2 - what are there tickle spots?
Deimos cannot handle it when people touch his ribs, especially the rib counter thing and drilling your fingers in between them...drives him nuts. Sanford is like 'lmfao suffer bitch' but always forgets that Deimos will come back for revenge. Sanford's midriff from his back to chest is sensitive (unsurprisingly) and his boyfriend doesn't have any issue sneaking up on him and blowing on his back, causing Sanford to squawk and drop to the floor faster than concrete. His neck is pretty sensitive too and drives out a couple giggles that are just 💖💖💖
4 - who get's cheer up tickles?
Deimos absolutely. Doc or Hank will be on his ass about messing up during a mission and ends up pissed off as hell by the end of it. His wonderful boyfriend will call up the laughing doctor to cure his sadnessgitis (but is sure to be gentle as he wants to make him feel better and not torture him)
5 - do either of them try to hide their ticklishness?
Sanford holds it in just to piss off Deimos. He never gives up tho and keeps at it until he folds, cackling
7 - how did they discover each other’s ticklishness?
Deimos was trying to wake up Sanford one morning for a mission but since he's as stubborn as a bull, Deimos tried to roll him over but all while drilling his fingers into his side, causing Sanford to squeal like a pig and an especially creepy grin creeps up on Deimos' face. Chaos incuses.
Sanford and Deimos were running for there lives as agents shot at them, barely grazing their skin and manage to get tf out of there in time for them to survive long enough. Deimos ends up tripping and is nearly caught by the agents but Sanford (as usual) comes to the rescue but isn't very gentle about it. Ending up embedding his fingers into Deimos' ribs and nearly pissed himself when Deimos fucking squealed. He had no time to react and just dipped with him over his shoulder into the truck they had parked. He asks him about it later but he keeps his mouth shut so Sanford does the next best thing
experiment✨
8 - who can’t take tickle bites/raspberries?
Deimos. He thinks he can handle it and acts like a big shot for it. Once he challenges Sanford, he's like "okay sure lol." and raspberries him. Things go way down hill from there and he's fuckin screaming for mercy while Sanford is like "lmao you said you could handle it no~" and continues without fail till he's satisfied which is basically when Deimos is wheezing like crazy and redder than a tomato. Sanford doesn't get any mercy tho as his midriff is pretty sensitive and Deimos uses that to his advantage, especially in the morning while cuddling.
"You got something a spot there."
"What spot?"
"A ticklish spot~"
"A what-"
"PFFFFFFFFTTTT!!!"
instant death
9 - who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?
As said before, Sanford. He values his beauty sleep but Deimos doesn't tolerate his shit and neither Doc or Hank's so the claws✨ make a visit. Unscheduled too as his boyfriend is left in giggles by the end of it
I over compensated on this shit and i'm writing this on my living room desktop so please on god don't let my family see this :///
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thatonerandomfan4 · 3 years
Text
Madness Combat: Playful Fighting
(Originally Was Gonna Post This On My Main But I Chickened Out Lol)
Requested By: Anonymous
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(If You Are Uncomfortable With This Topic/Use It In A 18+ Way, Please Leave Now)
Characters: Hank, Tricky, Jebus, Sanford (Mentioned), Deimos (Mentioned), 2BDamned (Mentioned)
Summary: Tricky, Jebus And Hank Engage In A Big Playful Tickle Fight. Jeb Mainly Wrecks Them Both, Because He Claims He "Isn't Ticklish" Without Evidence. Like Bruh, You're (Literally) Jesus. You Gonna Lie To Them Like That? C'mon Man.
Extra Notes: They Might Not Be Very True To The Original Because These Are My Interps Of The Characters. So If They Aren't How You See Them Act/Talk, I Apologize.
Nicknames:
Jebus: Jeb, The Savior, The Bearded Man
Tricky: The Clown
Hank: The Blender Lover, The Man In The Goggles, The Man In The Red Goggles, The Tall Man, Wimbleton
-------------------------------------------------
It Was A Long Day For The Blender Lover, Having To Safe Deimos And Sanford From That Weird Ass Looking Bug. He Also Had To Go On A Mission Assigned By 2B. Great....Just His Luck, You Kill A Crunchy Ass Weird Looking Bug And Your Reward Is Breaking Into Another Agency Base.
He Mumbled To Himself The Whole Trip There, Getting Angry That His 2 Partners Got To Stay Home All Day And Just Wait For Hank To Be Done So They Can Pick Him Up. It Wasn't Very Fair, But At Least He Could Take His Anger Out On Those Weak Agents.
Once He Got Dropped Off, He Headed Towards The Entrance. Hank Needed A Way To Sneak In Without Getting Suspected Easily Like He Usually Did. Instead Of Hiding In A Box, He Dressed Himself As One Of The Engineers.
Figured They Were Too Dumb To Notice His Clothing Was Incorrect And That His Metal Jaw Was Exposed, And Luckily His Disguise Worked. He Only Started Killing Everyone Once He Was In The Break Room, Stealing Some Food And Drinks Along The Way. He Made Sure To Actually Make Sure They Were Really Dead Before Moving On.
He Encountered Tricky Once, Who Seemed To Be More Energetic Than Usual. The Clown Was Bouncing Off The Walls While.....Helping Hank? The Man In The Goggles Didn't Expect This, But He Secretly Appreciate It.
He Didn't Say Anything To The Clown And Just Moved On, Seeing Jeb In The Next Room Who Was Also Killing The Agents. Once Again, Hank Didn't Say Anything And Moved On Once All The Agents Were Dead. He Messaged Deimos That The Mission Was Done And Packed 8 Boxes Of Food And Drinks For Them, Just Incase They Needed Any Extra.
It Took About 20 Minutes, But Deimos Finally Arrived At The Base With Sanford. They Helped Hank Load The Truck And Drove Back To The Base. The Man In The Red Goggles Couldn't Help But Think About What Had Happened Earlier.
Tricky And Jeb Helping Him Instead Of Attacking As Usual? That Was Strange, Very Strange. He Wondered If They Were Planning Anything, But Decided Not To Think About It Too Much. He Needed Focus On Taking Care Of The Base And Himself Now.
Once They Got Back Home, Sanford And Deimos Took Care Of The Boxes While Hank When To Go Clean Up From The Mission So 2B Wouldn't Have To Do It All By Himself.
Hank Sat Down On A Wooden Box To Clean His Knife. All He Wanted Was To Just Clean Off And Then Relax The Rest Of The Day. He Didn't Feel Like Doing Anything Else That Day Since He Was Pretty Tired Fighting All Those Agents, Most Of Them He Fought By Himself.
He Thought About The Encounters With Tricky And Jeb Earlier Too But They Were....In Playful Moods? He Decided Not To Question Any Of It And Just Got Back To Cleaning. Once He Was Finished, He Took Off His Boots To Wipe Off The Blood And Mud Off Of Them. He Didn't Even Hear The Door Open, But He Caught The 2 Guys In Time Before They Did Anything.
Hank: "What Are You Two Doing Here? Whatever You're Doing, I'm Really Not In The Mood Right Now."
Tricky: "BU-BUT HANKIE!! CLOWN AND JEB WANT TO PLAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!! PLEASE??"
Hank: "No. Hank Isn't In The Mood, Go Away."
Jeb: "You're Such A Party Pooper."
Hank: "Oh Boo-Hoo. I'm Tired And I'm Not In The Mood For Whatever Random Shit You 2 Are Trying To Do. So Go Away And Bother Sanford Or Deimos."
Jeb: "Aww Ok...Well You Asked For This."
Hank: "Ask For Wha-"
Before Hank Could Even Finish His Statement, He Was Interrupted By Tricky Grabbing His Ankles. Before He Could Say Anything And/Or Protest, The Clown Immediately Started Violently Scratching At Hank's Socked Foot, Earning A Yelp. This Gave Time For Jeb To Quickly Get Behind Hank And Attack His Sides And Stomach, Smiling Like A Little Shit The Entire Time.
The Man In The Goggles Gripped Tightly Onto The Savior's Forearms And Cackled Brightly At The Action. He Couldn't Even Kick Out Because Tricky Was Busy Clawing At Both Of His Arches Like They Were Scratching Posts For A Feral Kitty.
Hank: "J-JEHEHEHEHEHEHESUHUHUHUHUHUHUHS CHRIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIST!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! QU-QUIHIHIHIHIHIT IHIHIHIHIHIHIT!!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU BOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOTH!!!"
Tricky: "HEHE!! HANK IS TICKLISH!!! CLOWN TICKLES YOU!!!!! JEB ALSO TICKLES YOU!!"
Jeb: "Wow, Didn't Expect You To Be This Sensitive, Wimbleton." *He Finished That Statement With A Small Chuckle, Earning Light Smacks From The Tall Man.*
Hank Was Doing His Best To Pry The 2 Off Of Him, But He Gave Up When His Bare Skin On His Stomach Was Being Attacked By Them. Wimbleton Almost Gave In Completely Once He Felt Jeb Place A Raspberry On The Side Of His Stomach, While Tricky Carefully Bit Around Hank's Navel.
The Man In The Goggles Let Out Loud Laughter, Smacking The Box With His Hand And Right Foot, Waiting For Them Both To Stop.
Once The Two Did Stop, They Watched Down On Top Of The Box And Catch His Breath While He Held His Stomach. He Looked Up Just In Time To See Jeb Sneaking Up On Tricky But Decided Not To Say Anything Because He Wanted Revenge.
Once Hank Could Breathe Normally Again, He Got Off The Box And Went Right Up To Tricky.
Tricky Pat Hank On The Head, And Jumped Once Jeb Squeezed His Ribcage. Tricky Made A Bad Decision To Hold Onto Hank Because He Just Immediately Got Wrecked.
Tricky Squirmed Violently And Laughed Hysterically While He Tried Escaping The Tickling. Once His Bare Skin Was Targeted, He Was Squirming Way More Than He Was Before. The Clown Was Trapped, Like How Hank Was Before Had No Way Out.
Tricky: "AHHHAHAHA!!!! NO!!! NO TICKLING!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! Y-YOU DOHOHOHON'T TIHIHIHIHICKLE CLOHOHOHOHOWN!!!!"
Hank: "Oh Really? Then What Are We Doing Now, Tricky?" *He Dug Into Tricky's Hips, Earning A Big Squeal While Jeb Backed Away And Watched Them.*
After Hank Stopped, He Held Onto Tricky While He Regained His Breath. Hank Looked Up, Seeing Jeb Is Gone From His Original Spot. Wimbleton Set Tricky Down As He Looked Around For The Bearded Man. He Turned Behind Him To Look And Didn't See Anything, And Turned Back To Be Faced With Jeb.
Without Any Words Spoken, Jeb Immediately Targeted Wimbleton And Tricky's Bare Stomachs. Both Of The Men Squealed And Laughed, Doing Everything They Can To Get Away From The Savior.
Hank: "N-NOHOHOHOHO!!! I-I THOHOHOHOHOUHUHUHUGHT YOU WEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHREHEHEHHEHEHE DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHONE!!"
Tricky: "W-WAHAHAHAHAHIHIHIHIHIT!!! JEB SAID CLOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOWN AND HIM WERE A TEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHM!!!"
Jeb: "Well You Both Are Wrong. And Now We're Going To Be Here A While~"
The Savior Attacked The 2 Men In Front Of Him, Smiling The Whole Time While They BEGGED Him To Stop.
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twrp-act-your-age · 3 years
Text
The Big Scary What-If
Was going through old files and whoops! I found a whole bonus scene I wrote and never posted. So... here ya go!
Spoilers under the cut for the near-end of the story!
This scene takes place around the vicinity of pages 114-116. For those who don’t remember (it’s been a while!), Deimos has been defeated, the gang is back together, and they’re taking a few days to fix the Time Crystal.
Havve’s optics blinked, taking in the small form of Meouch sitting curled up on the couch. It was midnight--rather, it would have been midnight if they had been on Earth--and his three boys should’ve all been in bed. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he said, keeping his volume down for the sake of the others.
“I know,” Meouch said, seemingly having fully expected that from Havve. “I can’t stop thinking, though.”
Havve could have sighed and sent him off to bed anyway--if Meouch could think out here, in front of the muted TV playing intergalactic infomercials, then he could think in his room--but he didn’t. He sat down next to Meouch and got comfortable, leaning back and lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “What’re you thinking about?”
“It’s nothing,” Meouch said, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, it’s… Y’know.”
“Clearly it’s not nothing,” Havve retorted, “if it’s keeping you up half the night.”
“It’s…” Meouch sighed. He crossed his arms over his chest and burrowed his hands inside the sleeves of his t-shirt. He looked at the TV, defeated. “It’s stupid.”
“I bet it’s not,” Havve said. Meouch didn’t look at him, eyes vacantly stuck on the infomercial in front of him. Havve sighed then, a tinny, half-real, half-robotic sound. “You can talk to me, you know. I won’t judge. I mean… you’re a kid for crying out loud. Of course you’re worried about stuff you wouldn’t be normally.” Havve’s optics drifted to the TV for a moment (something about air fryers. He couldn’t believe they were still hawking that crap this far in the future), and then turned back to Meouch. “If something’s got you concerned, and you care about it, then that means it’s important. I won’t think it’s stupid. Okay?”
Meouch pursed his lips into a line. He blinked, his eyes reflecting the screen in front of them, and Havve realized he was trying to push back tears. “If we don’t fix this,” Meouch croaked, his voice rough and barely above a whisper, “if we have to grow up all over again from scratch… I did the math, Havve. I have the shortest lifespan here. I’m… I’m not gonna live to see Phobos and Sung get back to normal.”
The dam broke. It was quiet, Meouch still trying to hold himself together, but his eyes were gushing tears and his lips were trembling with cries trying to pry their way out. Havve sat up straighter and scooped him up, pulling Meouch into his chest and holding a hand on the back of his small head. Meouch choked out a high-pitched sob, muffled by Havve’s shirt. “Oh, bud. It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his thumb up and down on Meouch’s back. Havve couldn’t cry, as he didn’t have the eyes or the tear ducts necessary, but he could still feel his chest grow tight and his breath hitch in his half-metal throat. “It won’t come to that, I promise. We’ll fix this, Meouch. It’s okay.”
“I know. It’s like, so many what-ifs all piled on top of one another,” Meouch squeaked once he gained a little bit of his composure back. He sniffled, trying and failing to not get Havve’s shirt all wet. “Of course we’re gonna fix it. But I can’t get it out of my head, man. For fuck’s sake, Phobos is, what, twelve hundred years old? That's twice as old as I’ll ever be. I don’t wanna grow up and have him still be a little kid. I can’t, Havve, I can’t…”
“I know. God, if there’s anyone who understands that feeling, it’s me,” Havve said. “I honestly don’t mind taking care of you guys like this, but… I need you back, too. I can’t… rust away into nothing before Sung even hits puberty. I need you guys back.”
“Mm.” Meouch crawled further into Havve’s arms, burying his head in his hoodie and wrapping his arms tight around Havve’s chest. “I know they're gonna outlive me,” he muttered, barely audible. “I’ve always known that. S’just how shit goes. But I… They’re my… All of you are my best friends, and if we can’t tour together or do music together or just… hang out together without having to worry about babysitting… I can’t…”
Havve hummed in agreement, a strange mix of breath and white noise, making his chest vibrate. Meouch leaned into it, and Havve cradled him there. He needed this hug so bad that he was practically trying to crawl into Havve’s chest plate, and if Havve could have, he would’ve let him.
“I know you’ve prob’ly already been thinking about this a lot,” Meouch mumbled, his voice still wet and thick. “About what happens if the Time Crystal doesn’t poof us back to normal. This is old news for you. ‘M sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Havve shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. There’s been so much going on… The whole thing with Phobos and Deimos… This is something we should’ve talked about days ago. The big shitty ‘what-if’ hanging over everyone’s heads. I hate it, you hate it, and no doubt Sung and Phobos hate it too. It’s hard to think about. Phobos is… tiny.” Havve ran his fingers gently through the fur on Meouch’s head, partly to soothe Meouch and partly to steady himself, and he spoke quietly, the bass of his speaker rumbling low in the top of his chest. “Seeing him get that small was… terrifying. I can’t imagine him staying that young for a hundred years. I don’t want to think about what that would do to him, what that would do to you or me… And Sung…”
“I don’t know how old he is,” Meouch whispered, “but he’s old old, isn’t he?”
“I can’t say.”
Meouch gripped the fabric of Havve’s shirt tighter, his small fingers digging into the warm metal of Havve’s stomach. “I know you know.”
Havve sighed. “I can’t say because that’s Sung’s secret to tell, not mine. But… yes, he’s old old. If he has to grow up again ‘from scratch’ as you called it… We’d all be long gone before he reached adulthood again.”
“God,” Meouch whimpered.
They sat there in the quiet for a good long while, letting it all sit. It was dark, save for the blue-light glow of the TV and the bright red of Havve’s optics, quiet save for the TV humming and Havve’s inner mechanisms humming and Meouch’s shaky, wet breaths. Havve could faintly feel himself starting to get a headache, something he rarely experienced. He could feel the pressure building up behind where his eyes used to be, in the little that remained of his sinuses, and he knew he would have shed a tear by then if he could have. Part of him wished that he could. The other part, the part that was holding a small, crying child in his arms, was relieved that he couldn’t. He needed to be strong, and sure, and confident that things were going to turn out okay. He needed to do that for Meouch, even if he was barely able to do it for himself right now.
"It’ll be okay,” Havve said, his voice louder and more confident coming from his speakers than it could’ve possibly been if it had come from his aching lungs. “We’ll get you guys back to normal. Hell, even Phobos’s little crystal shard is working on him already. You’ll all be back to normal in no time,” he said. “And no matter what happens, we have each other. I’ll always be there for you guys. And I know you’ll be there for me, too.”
“Yeah,” Meouch said, and then trailed off. His mouth hung open like he wanted to say something more, but then he closed it and swallowed. It took him a moment to find his voice again, and when he spoke, he lifted his face away from Havve’s chest and looked up at him. “You can say if you’re hurting, too. Your breathing’s all shallow, Havve, I can feel it.”
“Meouch… I’m okay, really,” Havve said. He wiped under one of Meouch’s eyes with a finger, brushing a fresh tear away from the streaks of already-wet fur.
“You just said that I’m here for you, too,” Meouch huffed. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not just a kid, man. I’m your friend, too.”
“I know you are,” Havve said. He felt something catch in his throat, something that maybe could have been a sob if he still had vocal chords to make the sound with. Running on long-forgotten instinct, his hand reached up under his mask and rubbed at one of his optics, as if that would relieve the pressure that was still building. “Seeing you cry like that, it just… I hate to see that. Makes me want to cry, too, even though I can’t.”
And then Meouch did what only a child would do: he pulled Havve’s mask off of his face, gently and with both hands, and then wiped the imaginary tears under his eyes with his thumb. “It’s okay, Havve,” he said, and Havve could’ve sworn he felt something break in the 808 drum machine where his heart used to be. The pressure built up harder, and he blinked uselessly to try and fight it off. “It’s okay.”
“Y’know,” Havve said, his robotic voice calm and steady even as his breathing was shaky and quick and his shoulders quaked, “I can only think of one other time when I wished I wasn’t a damn robot. You know what that was?”
“What?”
“Airport security,” he said, and then laughed a wet, shaky, electronically-tinged laugh. Meouch laughed too, the sad smile fighting its way onto his face. “Honestly, I like the way I am. Nine times out of ten, I wouldn’t want to be any other way. And I used to think x-rays and metal detectors and the post-9/11 TSA were just the banes of my existence. And they still are. But it’s shit like this. Shit where my body wasn’t built to handle having too many emotions inside of it. And god, since you three turned into kids?” He laughed again. “I swear, it’s like my Grinch heart grew three sizes and I have no place to put it all.”
Meouch smiled. “I heard being a dad’ll do that to you,” he said, and then hugged Havve even tighter, resting his head in the crook of Havve’s neck. “When Sung’s bigger, you should ask him to fix that for you. To make more room for your heart.”
“That is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Havve said, making Meouch burst out laughing. “No, I’m serious. That was such a triple-whammy. Each sentence was a one-hit KO. Why can’t you be this cute all the time?”
“Hmm, can’t be this cute when you’re that sexy,” Meouch hummed, and it was Havve’s turn to laugh. It relieved a little bit of the pressure, and he almost felt like he could take a deep breath again. “Once I get my mane back, it’s over for you fuckers. Cute adorable tiny Meouch will be no more, and sexy beast Meouch will reign supreme once again.”
Havve rested his head on Meouch’s shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Thank you.”
“Hey, no problem. I’m the one who got you all upset in the first place, so…”
“I think I was upset anyway. It was just hiding.”
“Oh,” Meouch said gently. “Then… You’re welcome. Wait, no, I should be thanking you! I was freaking out and now I’m not! How’d you do that?”
Havve chuckled, and they both knew he would’ve smiled if he could. “Secret dad powers,” he said simply. Meouch looked up at him and beamed. “Speaking of which, my dad powers are telling me that it’s way past your bedtime.”
“Aww, come on, no it’s not!” Meouch whined. “We were just getting somewhere! C’mon Havve, I’m not even tired.”
“You sure? Because I’m spe-ent,” Havve chimed. He stood up, bringing Meouch with him, and started carrying him back towards the bunks. “I need to recharge, and you need to get some sleep.”
“Fine,” Meouch said. His head was resting on Havve’s shoulder, and he was already quieting down. “I guess.”
Havve padded across the ship to Meouch’s room, and the door opened automatically as they got close. It was dark inside. Only Havve’s glowing red optics illuminated the space, showing off the piles of flannel shirts on the floor and the mess of charging cords by his bed. “You need to clean in here,” Havve said, and Meouch only replied with a hum and a small nod. He had gone from energetic to almost-asleep in just a couple of minutes. Seemed like the crying had finally caught up to him. Havve laid him down in bed, pulling his covers up to his chin. Meouch rolled over onto his side, burying his face in his pillow, and was out before he could even say “goodnight.”
Havve patted him on his head and tousled the small fluff of brown that was his mane. “Sweet dreams, bud,” he said softly, his volume just a notch above muted. “Everything’ll be fine. I promise.” He adjusted the blankets once more, stood up, and left Meouch’s room as quietly as he could. “I promise.”
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written-adventures · 4 years
Text
The War-Like, the Stealthy, and the Care-Free: Last Light Pt. 52
Without the sun, P.K. wasn’t sure how much time was passing, or if time really mattered in the underworld. Cyclops wasn’t exactly great company but he shared his food and water, talked to him, told him stories of gods and monsters.
“And cows are-” Cyclops stopped short and shuffled back to his corner. 
“What’s wrong?” P.K. asked. 
“He’s here.” 
“So,” A vicious voice boomed through the cave, making P.K. cover his ears. “The brat is making friends with the monster? How sweet.” 
“Who are you?” P.K. whimpered. He suspected he knew the answer as a man in blood-stained armor stepped into view. 
A helmet, dented and dirty, clattered unceremoniously on the ground as the shadows swirled around behind the man. 
“The slayer of men,” Ares grinned wickedly. His bloodshot eyes fixed firmly on P.K. “The unbreakable. He who rejoices in battle.” 
P.K.’s insult caught in his throat as the shadows moved closer. Somewhere in them, he could see Lance, covered in blood. Any of the bravado P.K. tried to muster vanished, despite the mosaic of crudely drawn penises around the cave walls, the place felt seeped in terror. 
“Oh, you’re afraid of Phobos?” Ares laughed but there was no mirth in the sound. “Good.” 
“You killed Deimos,” Phobos said. The shadows solidified into the vague shape of a human. “You killed my brother.” 
“I was there,” P.K. said softly. “But I didn’t kill him. Arro killed him.” 
“Oh, don’t worry. We have plans for the Traveler,” Ares nodded. “I wanted to kill him straight out but Aphrodite suggested I lock you in here. I knew it was a mistake, this beast is too gentle.” 
Ares stepped closer to P.K., like a wolf stalking its prey. “Look at you, so scared.” he sighed almost happily. “It’s been so long since a human looked at me like that.” 
P.K. whimpered and pressed himself back against the wall. 
Phobos, grabbed P.K.’s arm. “Show me what you see.” he hissed. 
“Let me go!” P.K. twisted and writhed but Phobos held tight. He rounded on Phobos, but instead of that mass of shadow, Lance stood behind him, his eyes milky white instead of their normal blue. 
“Lance?” P.K. gasped. Blood trickled down Lance’s arms and cheeks. “No, no! This isn’t real!” 
The cave around them vanished and they stood in a soot-covered temple. Ash floated in the air like snow. Arro lay on the altar, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Dozens of bodies lay on the steps, their faces frozen in horror. 
“Lance!” P.K. screamed. He saw him enter the temple, holding a squealing bundle. He smiled at P.K. A sick, twisted smile as he stood over Arro’s body.
“You kept my vessel safe for me,” Lance said but it wasn’t Lance’s voice. It was a woman’s voice from a long-forgotten nightmare. The bundle’s cries were cut short and Lance dropped it on the altar beside Arro. “You did-” 
The vision faded as Phobos quickly dissolved into shadow. Ares roared in anger. P.K. could barely make out Ares swinging wide with his sword at some unseen opponent through his tears. 
“You have one chance, Ares,” Someone said, their voice echoing eerily through the cave. “Let them go.”
“Fuck off, Hermes!” Ares screamed.
“Wow, language.” 
“Phobos! Find that goblin!” Ares snapped. “I will not have him interfering!” 
Phobos shot out of the cave with Ares right behind. 
“Brat?” Cyclops carefully picked up P.K. and placed him by their fire. “It’s not real. Nothing Phobos makes is real.” 
P.K. sobbed into Cyclop’s dirty side. He still saw Arro broken, Lance’s empty eyes. Still felt entirely alone and entirely at fault. Because he didn’t warn them. He didn’t stop- Who didn’t he stop?!
“It’s not real. Promise.”
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reddeaddamnation · 5 years
Text
Imagine: Deimos! Alexios watching you fight
Requested by @oneandonlyizabelle
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You and Kassandra have been hunting her brother Alexios for months now. She was your best friend ever since she saved you from being killed by an evil man, who turned out to be a cultist. You swore to help her on her journey, because you, yourself held a grudge against said Cult of Cosmos.
The two of you searched endlessly until you found out he was on the island of Seriphos, waiting for you with a dozen of soldiers, waiting for his command. He grinned mischievously at the two of you from the front of the phalanx "Sister, I see you brought a friend." He stated sarcastically. His eyes averted to you. You stared back with determination and a fierce look, which peaked Deimos' interest. "Good." He spoke after several moments "You will need her." Kassandra stepped in front of you to keep you away from his gaze "I see you brought many friends, Deimos." She returned the sarcasm "Are you really that afraid you will lose?"
Her comment seemed enrage Deimos because he ferociously unsheathed his sword and yelled "You are the one who is going to lose, sister! You are outmatched nearly five times! I intentionally left traces so you can come here and find me! Your luck will soon run out!" And with those words, he gave the signal for his men to attack. The soldiers ran towards you with battle cries, but you and Kassandra stood your grounds, smirking to each other. "You think we can handle these sorry sheep?" Kassandra asked. "I'll take half, you take the other." You answered. Kassandra readied herself, spear in one hand and sword in the other "Deal."
You stabbed the first soldier in your reach with your sword and swiftly pulled out your bow to shoot another in the head. Kassandra slashed her way through Deimos' men, killing two at once. You dodged a spear and visciously stabbed another man in the chest, kicking him off your sword and throwing it at a soldier who was running at you. Suddenly you noticed one of them running at Kassandra to stab her in the back. You took action and shot another arrow, killing him instantly. Kassandra looked at you and thanked you with a nod, which quickly turned into a horrified expression. You turned around and only barely managed to dodge the heavy mace which slammed in the ground where you stood. You unsheathed the dagger you kept at your side and buried it multiple times in the brute who attacked you.
"Go!" You yelled at Kassandra, motioning your head to Alexios "I got this!" She hesitated for a moment, worried if you can handle the remaining soldiers by yourself. "Just go!" You screamed again. This time she listened and started making her way towards her brother who was sitting on a large rock in the back of the battlefield. Little did you know, he had observed you the entire time with a great astonishment and desire. Your ferocity on the battlefield and swift movements ignited a fire in his heart. You reminded him of a warrior goddess. You were as beautiful as you were strong. And he wanted you all for himself.
When Kassandra approached him, he stood up slowly, with a sigh and smiled at her "I'm surprised. I didn't expect you two to be this good." He stated. "Back down or you won't be giving me a choice." Kassandra warned. Deimos only scoffed "Tell me," he started, averting his eyes back to the battlefield where you stood your ground against two men "What is her name? I'm impressed with her." Kassandra quickly caught up with where he was going "I swear, if you go anywhere near her, you will regret it for the rest of your life!" She warned, enraged, pointing her sword at her brother. He looked at her boredly, lifting his own sword. "What?" He asked, a dark smirk stretched across his lips "Afraid I will steal her away?" Kassandra gritted her teeth and yelled out, slashing at him, but he easily parried it. "Maybe I will." He stated, enraging her more "If nothing else, just to piss you off." They locked eyes. Kassandra stared him down with fury, while he was just mocking her. "I promise I'll treat her well." Deimos whispered. "She will never let this happen!" Kassandra yelled "And neither will I!"
She was so caught in her emotions, she didn't notice the cultist, sneaking up behind her. By the time she realized Deimos was only distracting her, she was hit in the back of her head with something blunt and everything went black.
Meanwhile, you had just finished up the last soldier when suddenly you felt something sharp pierce you in the thigh. An arrow. The archer was just a few feet from you, grinning darkly in your direction. You yelled out in pain, dropping your weapons and collapsed on one knee, holding your hurt leg. You glared at the man, but he was indifferent to it, as he shot another arrow, this time hitting you in the shoulder. You screamed again. He started walking towards you, aiming another arrow, for your head no doubt.
But an interruption occurred, as suddenly the man's face twisted into one of surprise and pain. You looked at the sword, stabbed through his chest, just as surprised as him. Deimos' face came into view as soon as he pushed the soon-to-be corpse out of his way. When you saw who your savior was, you narrowed your eyes and gripped the arrow in your shoulder, breaking it while trying to ignore the pain. The adrenaline coursing through you prevented you to feel any anyway. You attempted to stand up, picking up a nearby weapon, but your leg protested and you were sent to the ground yet again.
Deimos smiled down at you. A smile you didn't trust one bit. "Now, now. Don't strain yourself." He told you. "Where is Kassandra?" You hissed through your teeth, breathing heavily. "She is alright. All you need to focus on at the moment is me." He answered, crouching down in front of you. "Came down here to kill me yourself?" You scoffed mockingly. "If I did intend to kill you, I wouldn't have saved your life just now." You rolled your eyes "For your own benefit I suppose." You glared at him with a teasing smile. "Well, of course. I want you alive." He shrugged. "He was one of your own men..." You stated, looking at the archer he killed. "Perhaps." Deimos followed your gaze "But I want to earn your trust. I want to show you that I'm more than what my sister has told you about me."
You straight out laughed at his words "I see for myself. A ruthless killer. A shell of what used to be a human!" It took all your self control not to spit in his face. He hurt Kassandra. You knew it. You only hoped she was alive... Deimos sighed. "You're hurt. Kassandra isn't here to save you. You can't fight me, so I suggest coming with me quietly." He dodged the dagger you slashed near his throat with an indifferent expression. "Try me." You challenged, trying to stand up again. He sighed heavily as if giving up on something. "Alright then. Grab your weapon." Then he stood up, waiting for you.
You stood up painfully and sloppily attempted to hit him with your sword, but he merely stepped back, making you stumble forward right into his arms. "I don't know what you expected." Deimos clicked his tongue. "Fierce to the end." Your exhaustion, combined with the pain from your wounds was enough to finally make you pass out. You closed your eyes, ignoring everything around you and reconciled with your fate. Deimos picked you up bridal style, taking in your features in the meantime. The dirt or blood all over you didn't make you any less beautiful. On the contrary. He thought you were strong and perfect. And no one was going to take you away from him.
When Kassandra woke up, nighttime had stepped in. Ikaros was worriedly screeching next to her. With a groan, she stood up, rubbing the back of her head, which was still throbbing. There was no sign of you or her brother. She dragged her legs along the battlefield, looking through the bodies, but gladly, you weren't one of them. The relief was replaced by horror, as she realized... Alexios had kidnapped you...
You woke up on a ship. The waves crashed against the boards, making them creek and the vessel to rock. You were lying on a bed and when you removed the covers, you noticed bandages wrapped around the places you were wounded. The last thing you remembered was Alexios' face as he carried you to somewhere. "Hello?" You called out in the dark room, hoping someone outside might hear you "Deimos?" Receiving no reply, you stood up from the bed and staggered towards the door. Surprisingly, it opened just when you reached it and you were met with Alexios' face again who looked at you surprised. "What are you doing? You should rest." He stated. "What do you care?" You scoffed "You're gonna use me as a trap for Kassandra anyway. Just know that she isn't stupid to fall for it!" Your words made him let out a laugh "Oh, well, that's just a plus if she does. I took you with me because I've taken quite an interest in you." His words surprised you. You stepped back, wide eyed. "I will not let you get hurt, but I also don't plan on letting you go."
Oh, Kassandra, you thought, please be alright...
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writersmilex · 2 years
Text
In between
The Sheriff X Reader Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Prequel
Summary: (Y/n) is in a secret relationship with Sheriff. 2Bdamned is suspicious of (Y/n) going absent for a long amount of time. Then asks Deimos and Sanford to spy on them. cute couple stuff with Sheriff. 
_________________________________________
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(art by  wohaoxuanku on twitter)
The morning is bright today, the light piercing your eyes as you wake up. Feeling groggy, they decide to sleep in for a while. There is movement behind you in bed, an arm snaking across your waist, giving a squeeze. "I thought you were still sleeping." your voice is scratchy from sleep. Sheriff pulls you as close as he possibly can to himself, spooning you effectively. "ye ah'm awake, good mornin'" he grumbles, nuzzling into your shoulders. You can feel the light brush of his messy short hair tickling in the nape of your neck. You giggle quietly, squirming in Sheriff's hold to turn yourself around to face him. Now able to hug him back, you do just that. Sheriff grumbles in content, one of his hands raking through your hair. He loves doing that. The perfect moment for him, waking up with you save in his arms.
"Eventually we'll have to get up," Sheriff says after a moment of comfortable silence. Both have gotten the time to wake up fully, but neither wants to get out of bed and let go of one another. "You have to get up, I don't." You laugh as Sheriff pinches your side at the teasing remark. As much as you wanted to sleep in, you're getting rather hungry and bored. You squirm, signalling for your lover to let you go, and he does let go. Sliding out of his hold and out of bed. You stand up and stretch, tough joints popping and loosening up.
You snatch one of Sheriff's button-up shirts and slide it on, a few sizes too big but that makes it snuggly. Taking a glance at your lover, he is sitting on his side of the bed putting his socks on, his bare shirtless back towards you. What a sight~. You'll never get enough of this man.
~~~~
The coffee machine is brewing that beloved warm beverage while you're cooking some breakfast for you and him. The smell of the sizzling bacon really wakes you up. Sheriff walks up next to you, preparing the hot beverages for both of you. "That bacon got me droolin' sweet pea." He says while putting some sugar in his coffee. Then he drapes an arm over your shoulder and presses his lips in your cheek before turning away to ready the table for breakfast. The two of you have meals together whenever you can.
Once the breakfast is done, you serve him his food before serving yourself. Sheriff almost immediately digs in, scarfing down the bacon. He must be hungry and he often says how much he loves your cooking. You eat your breakfast a little slower to savour the deliciousness of a complete breakfast.
After breakfast, it's time to get ready to leave and meet up with your friends. Friends how to happen to be enemies with your lover. The sheriff is not known for bravery, and yet you think he's brave for showing up with flowers that one fateful day. Face bright red and stammering out a confession of love. Being in love together with Sheriff is wonderful. However, your relationship is a secret from your friends. Things would really get out of hand. You're lost deep in through while reading your gear, you get snapped back by a pair of arms snaking around your waist. "do you have to go?" Sheriff pouts into your shoulder. He is always being difficult about you leaving. You sigh, "You know I have to babe." You reply, resting one of your hands over his. Sheriff always hates it when you have to leave and fight for the cause that's very much against his. He has had this argument with you several times. why can't you just stay with him? pretend to betray your friends, fake your own death or whatever. He simply fears that the moment you leave might be the last. "What if somethin' happens?" He questions, finally vocalizing his concerns. You snicker in response, "what to do think I am, some kind of noob?!" You playfully fake offence, gently slapping his hand to scold him. You have been in this line of work for years, you know your weapons, you can fight like no other.
"ah didn't mean it like that!" Sheriff defends, his hold on you tightening. "ah'm just... worried darlin'" you set down your holster and turn around to face your beloved. Putting your arms around his neck, he flushes red as you give him a loving stare. "I promise you, babe. Whatever happens, I will always come back to you. " You say, pulling him in for a kiss. Sheriff's worries are eased a bit.
~~~~
After rough goodbye, you part ways with your beloved to return to the Status Quo. Despite being upset that you always have to leave Sheriff like this. It feels good being back. Finally, you rest your things on your bed to clean up later. Right now you're hungry, the travel from Sheriff's place.to the S.Q HQ took a whole morning.
You race out to get something to eat and nearly bump into Deimos. "Oof, (Y/n)! Where the hell have you been?" Deimos snaps after gaining his bearings, looking at you with a mixture of annoyance and astonishment. You rub your head, smiling at your friend. "I had to finish some things last night. Why, did I miss anything?" You ask while walking alongside Deimos who is going to a briefing to Doc and friends. The moment you and Deimos enter the room, all eyes turn to you and him. 2Bdamned sitting his desk, Hank if the far corner of the room. Sanford is somewhere in the middle of the room, standing idly. "Where were you?" 2Bdamned doesn't even greet you, his tone is snappy. He probably didn't have his coffee yet, or maybe he's mad at you... Probably that... You really had to dig for a good lie this time, "I had to finish some things, I saw something last mission that I wanted to check out." You were able to say without stammering. Doc stares for a long while, most likely squinting at you in suspicion. "Found anything useful?" He asks, spinning his office chair to face you. You merely shake your head, not wanting to make this lie any bigger than it already is. Doc turns away and gestures to Deimos who has moved to sit on one of the tables. "I need your expertise in this one." He says. The smoker perks up in interest, grinning wide. The new mission briefing starts. ~~~~ The rest of the briefing went on as usual. You couldn't stand still during the whole thing. You kept thinking about Sheriff, and that face he made when you promised to return. You're eager to return to him again this night. You had a romantic dinner planned out, he would love it. He's a sucker for sappy romantic stuff. You were daydreaming a bit and didn't notice someone approach you. until that someone nudged you hard. You yelp in surprise nearly caught off balance. "wake up!" Hank's gruff voice snaps you back to reality. He is giving you his usual cold stare, you can't tell what he is thinking about. "Gah, Hank..." You huff, resting your hand on your chest to calm down your racing heart. Hank leans back and stands relaxed, crossing his arms. "Briefing is over, we can leave." He says. This new information excites you. You're so excited for tonight. "Oh, great! I have a thing to do!" You gleam and take your leave without saying anything else. Hank looks after you as you hop away, tilting his head in confusion. What are you so happy about? He didn't think that much of it, and also went on his way to spend some time in the old vents off the building. Deimos and Sanford were about to leave the room as well until a voice stops them from doing just that. "There is something I need you two to do for me." The duo whip around as the sound of 2Bdamend's voice cuts through the unusual stillness. "What is it?" Sanford questions, he always has to ask Doc to elaborate, since he never explains in one sentence. 2Bdamned scratches his chin. "have you noticed how odd (Y/n) is behaving lately?" He asks the duo. Deimos nods in confirmation, "yeah I have, (Y/n) is always sneaking out and stuff. away for days on end. And always coming up with piss poor excuses!" He exclaims, finally someone sees the same things he has seen happening. Sanford agrees, "yeah, it's suspicious, to say the least." Sanford crosses his arms. Now that he's thinking about it, (Y/n) has been thinking about it. 2Bdamned turns around to collect some notes on the matter. "Then the two of you would agree to help me figure out what is going on?" __________________________________________ To be continued... maybe? Thanks for reading. - Smilex
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strag-rp-sin · 4 years
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20. Body Worship
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave those two alone?”
“Why? Because they hate each other?” Deimos laughed and waved his hand. “Oh, they’ll be married soon, won’t they? They’re going to have to get used to being alone together sometime.”
Paedir looked back over his shoulder. The more he saw Cazmir and Cadenza together, the less certain he became that their engagement would come to fruition. It was an arranged marriage, as almost all of them were when it came to the Sesharrimian nobility, but this one seemed a particularly bad match. So far the only good part of accompanying his twin brother on this outing with her was meeting her brother, sweet Deimos, who was tugging lightly on his arm.
“If this makes us bad chaperones then we shall simply have to live with that status,” the blonde continued, still keen to lead Paedir towards the back of the club. There were curtained off areas there, intended for exactly what he had in mind. “I can think of much better things to do than watch them glare at each other.”
A smirk had found its way onto Paedir’s lips when he finally turned his attention back to Deimos. “I dare say that I can, too.”
He let the younger di Voce take him past an array of pink and purple curtains, ending up in a free booth full of pillows and cushions. All at once Deimos started to disrobe, only stopping when Paedir stilled his hands.
“There’s no rush,” he said as he tugged the blonde a little closer. His back pressed up against his front, his head tilted at just the right angle for Paedir to lean in and press a tender kiss to his neck. “I want to enjoy you.”
Deimos bit his lip but smiled nonetheless. “So you’re not here to just fuck me?” he asked.
“Oh, I am here to fuck you,” Paedir said as he reached forwards and slowly started to unbutton Deimos’ blouse. “Just not like that.”
He gently peeled the fabric from the other man, leaving his chest bare. His hands were quick to roam. They slid upwards before resting on his nipples and rubbing around them, teasing him long before he started to pinch them between his fingers. Deimos whimpered at first and then he moaned. He reached up and gripped Paedir’s wrists hard, squirming where he was stood.
“More,” he begged, trying to drag his hands lower. “Please.”
Paedir chuckled but did what he asked. One of his hands left Deimos’ nipples and trailed back down his body, undoing his trousers and letting them fall to the floor. The blonde was already hard under his underwear but that only made him want to go slower. The tips of his fingers brushed beneath the top of the silky fabric, getting close enough for Deimos to start whining anew, before pulling back just as quickly. Only then did he tug at the ties holding it on and let the thong fall away from him completely.
“You’re beautiful,” Paedir murmured. “Every inch.”
Deimos let out a bashful giggle, breaking Paedir’s hold on him as he turned around. “I’m sure you are too,” he said. “But you just aren’t letting me see.”
His hands were far faster than Paedir’s had ever been, starting at the soldier’s collar and moving all the way down his body as he quickly popped every shirt button from its hole and stripped him of it entirely. He was just as toned and muscular beneath as he’d suspected. Deimos’ hands trailed over him, groping and stroking at every bump and crevice with a lick of his lips. He only pulled away to move to his trousers and tug those away too, finally making Paedir just as naked as he was.
“I knew it. Big and beautiful.”
Deimos looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, a large smirk playing on his lips, as he took Paedir’s cock in his hands. He too was hard and it took barely a squeeze to draw a sweet groan from the soldier’s lips. Deimos tugged lightly, leading him along by it and turning him around, just so he could push him down into the pillows at their disposal. He walked over the top of him, placing a foot at either side of his hips, before slowly lowering himself down into his lap. His hand grasped at Paedir’s cock once more but this time it was to lead it up to his hole, pressing his tip against him so that when he was sat down, he was filled with every inch of the soldier’s great length.
Deimos’ sweet moans inches from his face were too much for him. Paedir brushed the blonde strands out of his eyes, cupped his cheeks with hard but gentle hands, and brought him into a kiss far more tender than the ones usually reserved for a first encounter in a nightclub. The soldier only broke away when he wanted to speak, letting his words brush up against Deimos’ lips.
“I promise you that I don’t do this very often.”
Deimos smiled. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
“You misunderstand, I...” Paedir paused, swallowing hard. “I have never been so enamoured with someone I’ve just met. You’ve enchanted me, Deimos, in a way I can’t quite describe and I so desperately want to see you again. Alone next time. No chaperoning, no double dates, and certainly no Cazmir and Cadenza.” He returned the blonde’s smile at last. “Just choose a place and I will take you there.”
Deimos’ cheeks flared red as his expression became more timid. “I’d love to,” he said. “No matter how unorthodox it may be. But first, please... will you fuck me, Paedir?” His quivering form sank a little lower onto the soldier’s cock. “I want it so desperately that I can barely stand it.”
Paedir didn’t reply. He merely pulled Deimos into another kiss and flipped them both over, letting the blonde in his arms sink into the pillows as he started to take him for the first time.
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author-morgan · 3 years
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Kryptic ↟ Deimos
thirty-five - in flames
masterlist
But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.
Death submits to no one, not even Dread and Destruction.
They are both weapons of flesh and bone, of warm blood and beating hearts, and they cannot be controlled.
TIMOTHEUS GIVES THEIR NEW heading —Messenia. He overheard the Spartans speaking of a brewing storm, and Lesya knows who will be within the eye. Deimos. Tundareos, Timotheus, and Lesya sit around one of the lit braziers on the ship’s deck after the sun sets. It feels odd to have both her brothers back in her life —sitting next to her, smiling and laughing about their days of childhood in Athens. 
But the stories end too quickly, tainted by the night the masked men in dark robes came, taking Lesya away. It was the night her childhood ended. “What happened after pater gave you up?” Timotheus asks. Tundareos told him little of what their sister endured at the hands of cruel people, thinking it best if she were the one to explain. 
The question shouldn’t have caught Lesya off guard, but it does, after all, Tundareos had asked the same thing. She looks down into the cup of watered wine, seeing herself stare back with hollow eyes. It’s been years since she was under the Cult’s yoke and foot —still they control so much of her life. The Cult made her a monster, and even her attempts to disprove them only made the truth clearer. No matter what, whether it be for Kosmos, Sparta, or Kassandra, she is a killer, thirsting for blood and relishing in destruction. Maybe I still am Enyo under it all. 
Her brothers wait in silence. Tundareos knows the tales, and it will hurt to less a second time to hear of what Lesya suffered through. Drawing in a slow breath, she begins the tale of a girl named Enyo and a boy named Deimos and how the Cult of Kosmos molded them to become the most fearsome warriors in all of the Greek world. 
Timotheus remembers the night she came for his head, leaving empty-handed and giving him a warning he’d taken to heart. Lesya shifts, slipping her chiton off one shoulder to reveal the deep scars crisscrossing her back. “This was my punishment for not bringing the Cult your head,” she says —recalling the feel of Nisos’ lash biting and tearing flesh and long weeks of recovery afterward. Timotheus cringes. Part of him always wondered what became of her after that encounter. Now he knows, and his face contorts in anger. “But I’d do it again,” she tells him with a soft, kindly smile. 
THE NEXT TIME Deimos and Lesya’s paths cross, Pylos is burning. Smoke stings her eyes, almost as badly as the stinging pain in her thigh where the broken shaft of an arrow remains. Gritting her teeth, she pushes through the pain —I have endured worse than this. Dispatching an Athenian with a dagger through the throat, Lesya searches, trying to find Kassandra or Brasidas through the thick haze. Across the battlefield, she sees him emerge from the flames —eyes set on the Spartan general as he thrusts a spear into a Spartiate’s belly and rips it free from his back. She breaks into a sprint, knowing what must be done. 
Lesya collides with his side, throwing him off balance before he can reach Brasidas. They both roll through a burning blanket of heather. Deimos stands before her. He cocks his head this way and that —like a predator eyeing his prey. His gold-and-white armor streaked with black smoke and running with blood, face uplit by flames and twisted into a grim smile. There is a flash of madness in his eyes as he leaps for her. Bloodlust taking him. “Didn’t learn your lesson last time?” He grits out, sounding like a stranger in the months passed since that night on the Megarian beach. 
He knocks her back to the ground, and Lesya scrambles for a fallen shield, throwing it up to take the next blow. His sword bites deep, breaking the bronze coating and crumbling the timbers below. She tosses the ruined shield aside, kicking out and back to her feet. Deimos’ sword lashes for her again, but she parries the stroke and strikes back —drawing blood from a slim cut running down his bicep. He stumbles, looking at the cut and the blood on his fingertips, not able to remember the last time he saw his blood drawn in battle.
Sparks fly as they hammer blow after blow, until exhausted, Lesya catches his next strike on the edge of her blade. They strain against one another, teeth bared and panting, both shaking —vying for the upper hand. Around them, the ancient trees groan and fall over in great roars of fire and smoke. When she edges the Damoklean sword slightly to one side, Lesya sees Deimos’ confident glower waver. But it is like fuel to his madness, and with a roar, he pushes back, swatting her blade aside. Lesya rolls clear of his swipe and stands, backing away. “Deimos,” Lesya warns, pressing her hand against her bloody thigh, “stop this!”
A mist passes his eyes —as if something about had thrown him into the past, but it fades and his lips curl into a mockery of a smile. The Cult has sunk their talons in even deeper. “You don’t understand,” he says, jabbing a finger down at the smoldering earth, sweeping his hand around the blazing cage of trees. “This is my home.”
She watches his body tense before he lunges for her again, blades locked in stalemate again. “You know I understand,” Lesya spits, pushing away from him. Of all the people in Hellas she was the only one who understood what it was like to be a tool —a weapon. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” Her voice sounds like nothing more than a whisper above the roaring flames. The harsh glare in his tawny-gold eyes softens, the grim smile fades. He lowers the Damoklean sword and backs away as though he realizes alas what he’s doing.
“Deimos–“ her words are cut short by a harsh groaning, and then a crack as a burning tree starts to fall. Lesya watches as it leans toward her —eyes wide— before swinging down like an executioner’s axe. Deimos lunges for her. His weight landing atop her just at the tree crashes down, sending them both into darkness. 
THE WORLD COMES rushing back in a hazy fog. Deimos stirs and finds his back aching and head throbbing. Laid out beneath him is Lesya —he spared her from the brute of the tree’s impact. Only a few feet away, he notices his sister sprawled out too, blood trickling down her temple. A group of men encroaches around them. He recognizes the long dark robes and can make out the terrible ivory masks surveying the aftermath of a bloody battle as the island still burns.
“Take the Eagle Bearer,” a low, rough voice says before stepping back where the two champions lay. “I’ll deliver Deimos to Athens.” Kleon would need his champion to instill fear and control over the Athenians again. 
“What about her?” One of the men asks —Enyo could be at their mercy. It was no secret the Cult would benefit from having her among them again. But many of their ranks had fallen on her blade, and those transgressions could not be overlooked. “We should slit her throat and be done of it,” another says, that had been their plan years ago, but she slipped through their fingers and grew to be a thorn in their side.
Deimos rises, seizing the Cultist by the neck, face twisted in rage. The others step back, petrified —there is nothing, and no one to stop the champion from acting on his anger. “Touch her,” he hisses, tawny-gold eyes ablaze, fingers tightening around the man’s neck, “and you’ll beg for death.”
“Of course, champion,” the man sputters, lifting his hands in a show of complacency. Deimos sneers, pushing the Cultist back. He bends with a groan, slipping his arms under Lesya’s knees and around her shoulders, carrying her to the war galley, which will bear them to Attika.
Deimos pulls a canvas screen to, closing off a small space at the stern of the ship away from the rowers. He sits on his haunches, eyes skimming over his counterpart —finding a bloody wound on her thigh and several burgeoning bruises on her arms. Sighing, he reaches for the ties of Lesya’s armor, sliding the greaves from her shins and the vambraces from her wrists. He’s done this a hundred times over, but there’s something bittersweet now.
His attention turns to the bloody spot on her thigh, sullied by black ash and dirt, but he recognizes what caused the wound —an arrow. Carefully, Deimos wipes away the drying blood and dirt before prodding the wound with his fingers, checking if the arrowhead is still embedded in flesh. It’s not, she’d been able to pull it out cleanly. Dipping a torn piece of linen into a barrel of fresh water, he scrubs away the blood and binds it tightly to stay the bleeding. 
Wounds tended, she lay unmoving —strangely peaceful. Deimos buries the anger he feels at himself, tries to bury the guilt too, but he cannot dig a hole big enough. It takes a moment to realize the dampness on his cheeks is not sweat —it’s tears. He reaches for her, hand cradling her cheek as his thumb follows the scar cutting through her brow, across her eye. Silently, he bids Lesya wake. She doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” Deimos chokes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into her neck. It’s among the hardest things he’s ever had to say, but he knows he’s to blame, and there’s no water in Hellas capable of washing her blood from his hands.  
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kxngcarrxw · 6 years
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he is the first footstep in the silence of your home that tells you trouble is climbing the staircase; you’re no longer alone; you’re no longer safe
Like the embrace of an old friend, the shadow of darkness molded itself around Amycus, a man depicted not in the light of the things he brought into the world, but the severe lack of it, strangled from it instead with bare hands and the distinct weight that he carried on shoulder; the unholy truth that good things were never born to live long in his life. The acceptance didn't hit him until he was but a teenager, that everything golden slipped through fingers eventually, unless he found it in himself to lacquer everything already tarnished with the rotting core of their world, paralleled to the aspect of innocence, and called it golden himself. Creating his own reality had built within him the charred sense of morality that didn't live beyond those he intended it for; the rest of the world could burn for all he cared. The sharpened sense that overtook him as he stole the biting evening air and apparated didn't quell his stomach in the way familiarity usually did, though he supposed that the conflicted mess of organs, beating roughly against his ribcage or twisting himself sick in his stomach didn't stem from literally transporting himself just beyond the realms of what looked to be a run down warehouse and instead fashioned themselves the question as to how he'd find tomorrow. The knowledge of what awaited him on the inside a spurring factor in every methodical footstep he took towards finding the man that had uprooted his life and destroyed it without ever lifting so much as a finger.
He'd burn first.
It slicked itself against the roof of his mouth, an anticipation that could have drawn even the faintest memory of metallic to his tongue and Amycus was no sooner willing to turn away from the possibility that he'd never walk out of the warehouse alive than he was to brush aside the flickering chance that he just might. It didn't matter anymore; live or die. As if he wasn't the only one to suffer by the hands of Cygnus Black; he'd be the one to bring it to a head, to bring the bow down against the snakes head until the final command came; ever the soldier he'd been, no warped soul could take that from him, calloused and scarred hands had molded him to be the theatrical weapon that he had always been born to be. Amycus and his sister, Alecto, a living breathing, corporeal incarnation of ones phobos and deimos; fear and terror, and if they'd ever been known for anything; it was the chaos the wrought on those they picked as victims; passing nobodies seemingly fit for their games or those unfortunate enough to wear the wrath of vengeance that lived at home in their lungs. Fire and Ice wielded in the most destructive of forms, cruel and unforgiving. Surrender or caving was never an option; he either died a soldier or he lived long enough to destroy all those who challenged his wrath; a pity Cygnus would never see this coming.
Swallowed in darkness, he'd never been the most quiet of beings, but he'd long since become an expert at hiding his own movements, silencing spells, cloaking charms; the like all went hand in hand with bringing his own reign of terror down on those that earned it, and even more so those he simply wanted to crush beneath his heel because he could. Until he intended to be heard, he simply wasn't. The lingering footstep beyond total darkness that struck fear in those that believed in safety where they found comfort, it had long since become everything he'd embodied. The flickering uncertainty and the initial stammer of a heartbeat against ribcage and for a moment he only hoped he witnessed the flicker of it within the obsidian hues of the Black patriarch.
Morals lived too few in the grey, dulling organ of Amycus Carrow, and the man Evan was sure was inside the building before him would see none of them. Converged in his own efforts of silence, any apprehension left well enough behind as Amy slipped into the confines of the warehouse, the eerie difference between it's interior as opposed to it's battered exterior nothing too shocking to him. It was perfectly concealed, just as Evan claimed it to be, a place he himself would likely use, but never a passing thought that Cygnus would demean himself to a place so willfully close to the muggle realms of the city, and even still, a place not unfamiliar to any of them at all.
It took a moment or two for his eyes to adjust, as much a creature of the night as he was, the stark difference between the dying sun outside and the dimly lit warehouse left spots on his vision, slowly dissipating only to reveal the sightly image of what he knew to be someone strapped to a chair. The thickened scent of blood hit him like an old friend despite knowing that the figure in the chair, whoever it was, posed itself as the trap long since set for Narcissa to stumble into and mindlessly, he wondered who it might have been; a fleeting thought as he heard the sharp snap of someone apparrating close by -- he'd tripped something, a spell, a charm; Cygnus knew someone was here.
"Little dove, are you with me?" His voice felt like gravel between his teeth as Amy's jaw clenched, still hidden well enough by the confines of darkness as the thorn in his side broke through it himself to trail fingertips across the jawline of what he now knew to be Andromeda. "We have a visitor." It fell to silence, an echo of dripping water flinging itself into the palpable anticipation, he could have sworn he heard Cygnus hold his breath, but he waited. Amycus Carrow wasn't flippant or unpredictable when it mattered most, he picked his every moment, sharp and concise like the teeth he so often used to rip apart those in his way, and for the last year, it'd only been him. Palms curled to fists, the wood of his wand objecting beneath the pressure of it.
Don't let him win this.
"Cissa, darling, come, say hel..---" He'd heard enough, the inaudible latin incantation brought flame to his wand, uncontrollable at best, Amycus had learnt at a very young age how to wield fiendfyre where so many couldn't. His own embodiment set to engulf as much of what stood in it's path despite not touching a single object within the room. Instead the dragon shaped flame circled around, back and forth, Amycus watching as Cygnus took to a momentary venture of shock before something of burning, impending anger flickered in hues glowing amber in the hue of flame. It drew a flickering smirk to his own features, Amycus only then choosing to step beyond an opening in his own curse. It wasn't what he'd planned, not what he'd expected, and no verbal objection needed to be spoken for Amycus to know as much as Cygnus studied the hulking figure that beyond all sense of doubt was not his daughter.
It drew a sneer to lips long since healed from their mottled and cracked, his wand twirled between fingertips almost haphazardly, as if this were little more than a game and Cygnus hadn't infact been the predator among them for years. Done, he was done playing games, done being a pawn in someone elses hand, and done suffering the hands of someone not his own. "Narcissa would like to politely decline your invitation." Flame roared around them, casting an eerie glow beyond each silhouetted figure. While hues never left the man, conscious mind trailed over Andromeda, the bindings, the knife protruding her hand, each visible inch of skin that no longer held it's muggle loving precious fucking state. He could leave her to rot, but that wasn't what he was here for.
The laugh that filled the air fell roughly against his spine, an echoed reminder of how much satisfaction the man had likely found in watching as aurors dragged him from the ballroom like an animal --- dragged him from the people he'd sworn to protect, Evan, Bella -- Alecto. The thought mottled with the eerie sound ruptured all sense of control, the growl that tore through Amycus' chest long since silenced by despair and his near violent lacking hope. He could claw for it, he could rip and shred until he held the final lingering hope of Cygnus' fragile life within clenched hands --- and he would, if it was the last thing he ever did; Amycus would drag the man to the depths of hell with him.
It exploded with the sound of utter destruction, lightning striking the earth as curses collided and the manic laughter died out in the race against Amy's rage. Sparks a myriad of colors, red and black shattering in a sea of light that glimmered in the sunken hollow of the warehouse, his fiendfyre mirroring the wave of destruction that overtook Amycus as it tore through the inside of the warehouse, leaving it's effervescent sting against the flesh of both men before it dissipated. Perhaps he'd been so long without the ache of pain that he wasn't prepared for the agony flame left behind, Cygnus staggering to catch himself, throwing a curse at Amycus that ripped flesh open in the wake of the roar of feeling that spurred him forward. Every ache, every vying ebb of pain that lacerated his body a shock reminder of every moment Evan had forced him back form the brink of oblivion, every stoic moment he'd forced the Rosier to watch in the cruelest way as Amycus pieced himself back together through every agonizing scream. It served as no deterrent it should have as blood seeped through his shirt.
A puppeteer, pulling the strings of all of them like marionettes simply there to be used and abused, but Amycus had long since broken free of control, a void shadow that flit between each and every one of them, forgotten. Yet the dead always fought more viciously than the living with little more to lose than the body they inhabited.  
Like the animal they all thought he was, he stalked prey as if it might have been his final chance, pointed and purposeful, the shield he sent up to counter another myriad of curses, unspoken and devastating illuminated carved features like the highest lingering moon. Far outweighed by Cygnus' experience, it stood to reason that he didn't stand a chance, likely to be cut down by the madman's simple will when the time came that this game no longer suited his current need, but Amycus didn't stand too far downstream; his own power and desperate need a factor well beyond the precipice of an easy defeat. A collision of light once more filled the room echoing like electricity as they rebounded, an explosive charm catching the ground by Cygnus to throw him from his feet as the unknown tore air from Amy's lungs; the usually haunting six foot two figure doubling over as he gasped for air.
Like ice in his lungs he struggled, the shattered sense of time leaving him uncertain of how long he'd fought for it before he felt the striking force in his side; not bodily, he knew what a boot to the ribs felt like. Energy, a force-field that sent him flying backwards, wooden furniture splitting beneath him as he hurtled to the ground. An angel of death, long since fallen, Amycus caught sight of him as he traversed the tainted space between them only to catch him a second time with a jolt of energy no less powerful than the last. Ribs took the impact and all he tasted was metallic as it spewed between his lips, dripping like tar to a subsequent pool beneath him.
Heavy footfalls drew his attention as Cygnus came to a halting stop beside him, reaching down only to grip at the collar of his shirt to pull him up from the ground just barely. "She sent you? The ever faithful mutt..--  I broke you once before, Carrow." The stagnant scent of his breath reached his nostrils and he carved it to memory. Months spent out of reach of such a man in contrst to being mere inches from him now. A taunting promise he'd do it again left Amycus with little else in his lungs other than the stagnant humor as a laugh far more misplaced than the the others tore through his chest, pearly whites rimmed with the crimson of his own blood, not noting the slight breeze across his wrist where the watch the Black patriarch had already used to frame him once before once lay. "That was your first fucking mistake." The words sneered as he threw his head forward, the shatter of bone bringing about more satisfaction than Amycus had felt in months.
The shock that came with shattered bone gave him a momentary window, Cygnus' taunt reminding him of what he was already capble of. This was what he did -- this was what drove fear into people with little more than mention of the Carrow name. In amidst throwing his elbow up into Cygnus' throat, he rolled out from beneath him, wand slipping between fingers from where it'd fallen, spitting a myriad of curses from a silver tongue, uncaring of which one hit his target as he backed up towards Andromeda. "---- Little weak, don't you think? Couldn't have done more than.. this?" He gestured towards his daughter with as much a disgusted look as he ever had, though he himself was more interested in the blade buried in her hand than anything else; she'd live for today at least.
"I'd planned the big finale for Cissa, but since you're here." The older man staggered out the quipp as he rose, blue sparks splitting his wand as Amy ducked, the twist of his heel giving him enough leverage to rip the knife from Meda's hand completely. Despite being well trained in the art of dark magic, it was near instantaneous, the shift of self, the bloodied weapon in his hands already more natural to him than anything else as he twisted it between fingertips and caught Cygnus with a near manic grin, "-- Since I'm here ----- we might as well just go on without her." And it was the end; it had to be. "Let's see that big finale you had planned." He growled out with conviction and challenge.
Neither would comply, as much could have been determined from the clash of magic that all but ignited the warehouse, circling them both like a hurricane that threatened to take either who took a wrong step, a single wrong move. A whirlwind destruction that cast them both against a precipice that they'd danced one too many times, artists far more aware of a void beyond this realm, though perhaps one more willing to meet it than the other, one more prepared to put his own self on the line to take the other out. Perhaps Cygnus wasn't done --- he hadn't tormented and tortured enough of them to claim a life fulfilled; and yet he'd taken what Amycus might have claimed fulfilled from him. It drove the most vicious of facets from the hollow shards of his chest, spell after spell flung from one side of the room to the other, each cutting and tearing it's way through object and opponent as if Cygnus was well aware that only one would walk free of this fucking nightmare.
It burnt at his skin, white hot and drove a thin sheen of sweat across his brow, every hit he took as debilitating as each and every one he threw to meet his own mark. Blood slipped down his throat and bled through his shirt, a taunting mess of the living dead Cygnus had created, alive only to further feel pain, to feel something; to feel alive. Perhaps the Black's biggest downfall. Pain to him was just that --- pain, raw and hungry as it tore at sense not used to someone he couldn't just throw around like a fucking ragdoll. Pain to Amycus? All the more reason to feel it, a stoic reminder that he wasn't in his cell anymore.
It wasn't his game --- it would never be his game again.
"Crucio." It split features with a flicker of laughter and every ounce of hatred poured from him like molten lava through his wand; every ounce of pain he'd felt as dementors had ripped the life from him; every ounce that he'd drowned in being unable to look himself in the mirror; everything that had torn at already festering wound as he'd watched the people he loved work out how to act around him --- how to love him. Pain was all he had left and pooled with the disbelief that he had Cygnus in his grips was all the more reason not to let it slip through his fingers.
Body contorted to his will, bones crushed beneath the weight of the torture, skin splitting in objection yet Amycus did not let him fall; he wouldn't allow it, not yet. It wasn't enough, it'd never be enough --- but Cygnus wasn't his life to take. He was simply here to break the knee. "I should thank you." He sneered as he dropped the curse with a heavy breath. The laugh that tore through him beyond sanity as he drove the unforgivable through his wand again, the slight stagger to his own step bringing him ever closer to the man so intent on wrecking havoc on the people that without doubt; would only become him without all the mistakes; Amycus was already there. Mirroring the man intent on twisting reality and turning himself into the nightmare that haunted so many; the Carrow brother certain that they'd never be any different. "I've never been stronger." Which perhaps, might not have reflected in previous weeks; but he'd already lost everything. No matter how this ended; nobody could take a single thing from Amycus again. "You took everything from me --- and now I feel nothing." Perhaps he'd never understand the irony; that Amycus Carrow may very well be Antonin's mentee ---- but he'd live on as the prodigy child of Cygnus Black; long after the man was dead and without him every lifting a fucking finger.
Mere feet from the man now, Amycus could barely stand, bent beyond the will of choice, he forced himself to remain on his feet as the curse lingering the end of his wand kept Cygnus upright, the features that looked back at him worn and mottled with such condemnation that he no longer recognized the nightmare that had plagued him every fucking night since his release.
"You know.." He trailed off, the twisted curse that still clung to Cygnus focused to a mere internal state, Amycus willing every nerve ending set him alight from the inside out, "what's so dreadful about dying.." Letting go of the unforgivable well and truly, he caught Cygnus by the throat, worn, bloodied hands digging in against his windpipe, wanting so desperately to crush it beneath his palm. "--- Is that you are completely on your own," the finality of what little he could remember of the book the man had gifted Narcissa hissed through bared teeth as he slipped the blade he'd held onto upwards, slicing through flesh and organ of the mans abdomen.
There he saw it. The flicker of fear he'd been searching for, the closure he'd needed for what'd so readily been torn from him, Amy drew the knife upwards until the strangled cry slip the Black's lips in a cry he'd not yet heard. As he dropped, alive still -- but barely, he felt the weight from his shoulders slip free, the bloodied knife in his hand caught almost permanently between clenched fingers as he staggered back, suddenly all too aware of how close he might have been to the precipice he'd pushed Cygnus to as he hit the ground hard. Like an open wound, blood spilled from his mouth, the gravely cough that drew tainted air into his lungs, short and sharper than he'd remembered moments ago, Amy only propping himself up out of the pool of his own blood by the curve of his arm.
Dimly lit, the dank warehouse fell still for what felt like a lifetime; a lifetime within prison walls, within the walls of his own seclusion; a lifetime shattered as light spilled across shattered surfaces and the effervescent sound of familiar voices. Loud and urgent as they traversed the expanse of the warehouse until they sounded enough to be close.
Through bloodshot eyes he canted his head as best he could, looking up through the blinding light he might have otherwise guessed fell from one of their wands, artificial and too bright for him to look beyond; but it was enough. It was more than enough for him as something just as bright; just as effortless slipped through his lips and overwhelmed him with warmth. Warmth he'd yet to touch with bare hands burned through his lungs until laughter split his sides; hearty and real.
The blinding light; the cavalry, all of it brightened only by the simple fact that his solitude didn't leave him completely on his own anymore.
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