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@sepulcine-blog
<< I haven’t forgotten that Aim exists, don’t worry. I just have to be in a really specific mood to write this boy, one that’s usually really negative... I mean, he’s a monster boy who infects people with a flesh-eating bacteria if they touch his spikes, so maybe that gives an insight into the headspace I have to be in for him lmao;; >>
Blurred vision tracks the movement of light in front of his face -- just that, and nothing more. Flashlights or torches in the distance, seeking something. Fingers curl into wicked claws as he makes for a tree, scaling it with ease and hiding amidst budding leaves. He’s not let the lights vanish from his less-than-stellar sight.
Sensitive nose and ears sample for information, finding none to receive -- he was upwind. His scent would reach them first, but he doubted they had anything that could detect a sepulcino. Hissing laugh pushes past his lips, open only enough to allow the sound to escape in its quiet and threatening way. Defiance runs strong in him; he rakes his claws along the tree, marking it up much like a bear would before he snakes back down to the ground and begins to move behind the hunting party.
Were they seeking him? A MISTAKE if true.
His shift is seamless, hulking monstrosity taking the place of bulky man. Eyeless head still focuses in the direction of the lights that now come closer, serpent’s tongue sampling the air from the smaller of the two mouths. How something so large could be as stealthy as it was would always be a mystery -- its every step was placed with care as to the environment, never once unintentionally crackling leaves or shifting rocks underfoot. A hunger drove him to act not with carelessness, but with extreme caution -- corpses might not be hard to find, but if he was lucky and careful, he could have a FEAST.
The hunt, as they say, WAS ON.
soulsxng:
“Are you sure? I don’t mind doing it for you…” But even as he asked, he was doing exactly what Aim had instructed, squeezing a bit of the gel onto his head. He knew better than to really press the matter, so instead Ber chose to focus on his own hair, rinsing it out carefully as he listened to Aim.
It started out a little goofy, much like many of the more important things the Sepulcino said began. By the end though, Ber paused in leaning out of the shower to grab his conditioner and soap from his bag, one brow quirked. A headache? He wasn’t getting sick, was he? Ber hadn’t noticed anything odd, but then, he hadn’t really been checking for it…
Small form knelt down slowly in front of Aim, hand coming to rest on the other’s forearm. “Hopefully it’s just because you haven’t been taking care of yourself, but if you’re not feeling better when we wake up, I’ll try healing you and see if that…huh?”
Green eyes widen a bit, and a hint of a blush creeps onto his face slowly but surely. “I’m…that’s…” He tried, fixing Aim with a flustered little frown. “Don’t say things like that when I’m not ready; I can’t handle it…” It did earn the larger man a kiss, though.
“You should have called…I’m here now, and I can stay as long as you need me to. I missed you too, though. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”
The shampoo was gone from his hair before he even had a chance to scrub it into suds -- he had been too preoccupied with talking to remember it was there ( and luckily, it slid off the side and back of his head, not down his face and into his eyes, which would’ve definitely made him remember ).
“You said you were going to be busy, and I thought I’d have something come through, too. I didn’t want to pull you away from whatever you were doin’...” There was something he felt, something about being a burden, than he didn’t want to address. Everyone lived their own lives, after all, Ber had one to live, Aim had one to live... It was just better when their lives intersected, in his mind.
“What... did you say you wanted to go get when you came in?” His eyes narrowed against the droplets of water running down his face. “Can we reschedule it for when you wake up? We can go grab anything you want. Lobster rolls, cake, pie for breakfast? I’m down for whatever; I’ll even pay.” Blue eyes held earnest intent as a hand lazily wandered at Ber’s arm, the closest thing he could touch from the halfling’s closeness in the kiss he’d been given but seconds prior.
<< Squalo’s angered face was too perfect, because I immediately saw a furious Aim in this still. >>
soulsxng:
A roll of his eyes at the cursing, but he otherwise ignored it. After the initial panic of trying to figure out if Ber was alright passed, Aim seemed to regain at least some of his calm. “I could see that.” Ber teases, leaning up to give his obviously exhausted boyfriend a kiss. “Don’t worry, if I had gotten hurt or something, I would have let you know.”
The reassurance was soft, and he didn’t waste any time dragging Aim to the bathroom after that and slipping out of his clothes easily. Green eyes turned to the Sepulcino once again as he turned the water on, and he shook his head with a little laugh. Poor thing was falling asleep right where he was standing, it seemed like! Not that it wasn’t his own fault for staying up so long to play that game of his, so Ber didn’t feel all too bad for him.
“Come on now, you have to stay awake…” Ber muttered, grabbing the shampoo and rubbing it into his hair with a little sigh. “If you lean down for me, I’ll shampoo your hair for you. I’ll be careful to avoid around your ears.” Though, maybe that was a bad idea. The last thing he needed was for Aim to actually fall asleep and topple over. Because there wasn’t much that the little halfling would be able to do to catch him. Or to keep from being knocked over along with the other.
“Talk to me about something, so you don’t fall asleep, okay love?”
In the shower, Aim sank down to the floor to give Ber a better perspective of the top of his head -- and to keep himself from causing any damage to himself or to Ber in the event he fell over. He did at least have that foresight, as tired as he was. “Just put a dollop of the 2-in-1 in, I’ll suds it up,” his voice sounded so exhausted as he half looked up to Ber.
There was this look of defeat that washed across his face as he was gazing up, though, and then an absolutely devastated one. “I--I got way too into getting some kind of rank. I don’t know why, I just got transfixed and I know I didn’t sleep, but -- but the first night I couldn’t sleep anyway! I tried,” he sputtered the excuses like a child who’d been caught up past his bedtime. “I had this headache since you left and I just--just.... just couldn’t sleep! Maybe now that you’re back...
“Maybe now I can sleep.” His eyes sank down to the wood floor, watching the droplets splash on the light-colored surface, bead up, roll down the drain. “I didn’t even get close to Global Elite.” And he wouldn’t, not without devoting a few hundred more hours to the game and getting better than he was.
“I missed you.... I think I just missed you... That’s... I dunno.”
heavensforbid:
“You just licked me, to see if I tasted like the sea, you’ve got no leg to stand on calling anyone’s habits out.” Some habits were hard to break, while others were so easily picked up, Zoti adapting with the times while still trying to cling onto what scraps of his origins that he could.
Spirit bright eyes catch the spikes come and go and dark brow hefts itself somewhere towards his hairline. “What you intending to do? Kill every one of them that comes after you? How long do you think you can keep that up before there’s a man hunt? Mortals don’t take kindly to cop killers.”
“In my defense, my sight is the worst of my senses. There’s so much more you can taste of a person than you can see or smell or hear. I’ve been able to taste lies with this tongue of mine. Courage. Bravery. Fear. Agony. It tastes so different from what you would dine yourself on, hoplite.” He hums as he spins away, farther by only an arm-length but now facing the man in his entirety.
“If they want to kill me, I kill them first. It’s as simple as that. I don’t actively seek to harm them. Still, the rules of nature dictate the strongest, not necessarily in brawn, will survive any encounter. It just so happens I’m stronger than all of them.” The laugh is LOUD and boisterous, rolling thunder trapped in a valley and echoing between mountainsides. “Do you intend to see it? To summon the authorities so that they might be killed? My, wouldn’t that put more blood on your hands than mine!”
@sepulcine from here
While it wasn’t too odd to see Aim playing one of his games, this was a bit…excessive? He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and Ber hoped that it hadn’t been since the last time he was over that the Sepulcino had gotten any shut-eye. Though right now, as he all but stumbled over the coffee table, and hazy, exhausted eyes looked the halfling over, Ber was starting to think that might have been the case.
Sigh. Honestly, Ber sometimes wondered what Aim would do if he didn’t come to check up on him like this.
“Aim, I’m fine. Aim…sweetheart, calm down…It’s not my blood, it’s okay. I was working, that’s all…” Ber assured the other, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the other. “Here, I’m going to take these off, alright?” Hands reached up, careful not to accidentally touch scarred ears as he pulled the headset from around Aim’s neck, and set it down on the desk.
“When did you sleep last, mm? Come take a shower with me, we’ll get washed up, and then if you haven’t eaten anything yet, we can go grab something to eat and then go to bed. Come on…”
“Cука блять!” came through the headset, causing a momentary flicker of an amused smirk on his face. God damned Russians. But as soon as the offensive battle cry was done, Ber was carefully removing the bloated headset as carefully as he could. He tried to elongate his neck, lowering he head and pulling his shoulders back so that the task was easier.
“Sorry... I just forget that you and I have similar, uh... jobs, I guess. It was a gut reaction.” With the headset removed like a horse collar, he shook out his hear and stood back upright, glancing off to the side when asked how long it’d been since sleep offered him a brief retreat from the world. Ringed eyes rolled from the floor to the ceiling as he thought about the answer.
“It’s... been a while. I know it’s been more than 24 hours, but I can’t tell you an exact number...” And now the Ber mentioned it, his stomach was grumbling ever so faintly, a pang of hunger finally tearing at his gut. Without saying anything else, though, his horned head suddenly hung low as he followed Ber along to the bathroom, arguably the “messiest” place in the apartment, but still rather well-kept all things considered. At least there weren’t any clothes on the tile ( mostly because they were still on his body ). He went about the process of disrobing: first his shirt, peeled off of his muscular form; then his jeans, which he almost fell over trying to get a leg out. Standing there in only his boxers, he stared at the mirror for a long while... too long, really.
His eyes were shut, and he was only roused by the sound of the shower turning on, water hitting the teak that lined the most luxurious thing he had. “R-right!” Boxers were plucked off without much fanfare before he scooped everything up and dumped it into the hamper. With that done, he moved into the shower, promptly looking like a wet cat as the raindrops cascaded onto his head and shoulders.
heavensforbid:
Guy’s talking a load of shit and the lost spirit lifts a brow in disbelief. Why in Hades is he talking about vivisection to random strangers? Kinda worrying that he can smell the sea on him though…
A yelp as his hand is caught, a look of incredulity passing over sharp features as teeth hold and warm tongue leaves damp trail behind. As soon as he’s released, Zotikos snatches his hand back, being far more careful as he accepts the book.
“By Zeus what the shit is wrong with you? You don’t just, fuck you’re going to get yourself arrested for pulling that shit.” Spit is wiped off onto his jeans, nose wrinkled in distaste.
The ends of his horns, and the fracture that was sealed by an iron ring, all seem to glow intensely as he SMIRKS, shrugs. Zeus -- a deity. Greek. King of their gods, it seems. But he has long been dead... he and his pantheon, his contenders, too. What a shame... he may have TASTED like heaven itself. His memories told him stories, accessed quicker than the beating of a hummingbird’s tiny wings. With that knowledge dug up and now in tow, he looks skyward, to hazy plumes of white and grey. “You call Zeus’s ancient name and use common parlance -- obscenities? You are an enigma, one that’s growing more fascinating by the second.
“As for authorities... arrests...” Such a word coaxes a guffaw from him, a handful of thorns pushed through the surface of his wrist as he slaps his chest in amusement. As soon as the laugh dies down though, the little matte black spikes have disappeared, almost an illusion in how quickly they were there, and how quickly they have gone.
“I’d like to see them try.”
“Aim, let’s go to the diner, I want cake!” Ber’s only just gotten there a moment or two ago, splattered with blood and something ever so slightly shimmery and glowing. It was still late too, maybe 2am or so, and yet the halfling looked wide awake. “I’ll clean up first, and then can we go~?”
@soulsxng
Two in the morning wasn’t an odd hour for Aim. Neither was three. But four was usually the latest he stayed up. Regardless, when Ber comes in, he’s sat in the dark, glancing away from his triple-monitor setup with dark rings under his eyes from… lack of sleep, really. He wasn’t going to admit that he hadn’t slept in three days, though…! His response is rather delayed, having to blink several times to focus on the faint glow in the dark.
Then the lights snap on. Almost as if he were a vampire blinded by sunlight, his gloved hands curl into claws with the back of each shielding his eyes. “Holy shit! Ah…. god… damn. That must be what getting flash-banged feels like,” he mutters as his hands drop slowly away.
“Ah…. Ber–whoa, hey.” Immediately, he gets up from his chair and comes over, almost tripping over the coffee table that is hidden by his tunnel vision. His hands quickly grab at Ber, moving down his arms, his chest, his sides – there was an obvious concern smeared across his face, apparent in his every little examining move. “A-are you okay? What happened?”
Raccoon eyes look up, the headset around his neck ( that he could never wear over his ragged ears ) making busy chitterings and chatterings, some in Russian, others in English, most just loud and angry. “I–are you–” Blue eyes flick up and down too many times, every repetition seeking out some injury that maybe he didn’t see before in his exhausted state.
heavensforbid:
Mouth twists at the sight of draped cloth, a sudden pang of longing hitting him dead centre. Pointer finger traces outer seam of dark jeans and he hates them, hates the restriction, even after all this time. “You can usually only smell life when it’s pouring out of you though. Kind of defeats the purpose of it.”
The cloak spreads around him as he crouches, hazy blues examining something in the distance. “I suppose you could think that. Perhaps those who performed vivisections would argue against you. I, however, will not. Blood isn’t the most offensive odor. Nor is the salt of the sea, but it does make me wonder...”
He pushes himself back up and closes the distance between them all too quickly. He SNATCHES a hand, catches the man’s tome from falling to the ground with the other, and CATCHES flesh between teeth. Mind you, there’s no puncture. Skin is SAMPLED by a tongue, then released as he ponders, offering the book back, page marked by his finger.
“Scents are betrayals... nothing of you tastes of salt, save for sweat....”
heavensforbid:
Iced blue eyes flick up from a battered copy of the Oresteia (so sue him, he likes to read that Agamemnon got his fucking comeuppance) to catch nosy stranger’s gaze. “And you smell like blood, but we can’t all go around sniffing each other, we’re not dogs.”
“Oh~? And what’s so wrong with the scent of blood?” Fingers pull at the collar of his chlamys, his own blues flicking down to examine the dingy white, not a speck of old, brown blood to be found. “There’s something nice about the smell of life, wouldn’t you think...?”
@heavensforbid (you didn’t ask for this, but Zoti needs to be poked immediately by Aim)
“You reek of the sea, yet we must be hundreds of miles away from even the briefest meeting of sand and tide... I wonder why that is?” Cue the smirk that crawls so slowly across Aim’s face as he stares down this man.
soulsxng:
Ber could see in Aim’s face that he didn’t exactly like how Ber’s marriage had gone. Usually, the Sepulcino’s face was more expressive, even when he was just listening to Ber speak. So the fact that his face was near blank at the moment was a dead giveaway.
In all honesty though, the halfling didn’t like it, either. “I didn’t think that anything was wrong with how we were back then. I don’t love him anymore, so don’t worry.” He reassured the other, though he wasn’t quite sure if the words would do anything to change how Aim felt about it. But he’d still felt like it needed to be said.
He smiled, about to tease Aim, when he stopped, eyes widening instead. Smile fading to a look of shock instead as he found himself struck silent. Much like Aim a moment ago, all Ber could do was listen while the one he was snuggled so comfortably to spoke. That…was he saying what Ber thought he was saying? Obviously not outright, but…it was still…
A lump rose up in his throat with the threat of a panic, and Ber found himself fighting to swallow it back down before it grew worse, when Aim cracked that joke. The little laugh that escaped him was just this side of hysterical, and he shook his head, hand lifting to cover his mouth after what was quite possibly the single most loving kiss he’d ever been given before. “I…you dummy…” He managed to get out before the tears started up, and he had to hide his face in Aim’s neck once more. The panic was still there, but it had lessened to a far more manageable amount. This was more…happiness? Relief? Ber wasn’t sure, but his heart felt full enough that it might just burst.
“I’m not going to share my lobster with you, so get that idea out of your head. I found this recipe for steak with a parmesan cream cheese sauce, so I’ll make that for you instead, okay? So just…gods, I can’t stop crying…”
“I tolerate you too, Aim.”
He may have been a fool when it came to matters of the heart. This he won’t ever deny. But even a fool’s capable of striking gold if he digs enough. Aim gives a little hum as his fingers find their place back behind Ber, twirling in those brown strands with care, just a gentle pull here and there. It wasn’t hard to notice the aura around Ber become a little tense. But it also wasn’t hard to notice when it fell.
“Aw, come on! You can’t tease me like this!” A quiet laugh bubbled in his throat, a sharp little thing like the sudden scent of coffee being brewed as he began to move and adjust his body. He sought to make himself a more comfortable pillow for Ber, wriggling down the sofa in such a way that he was laid out on his back with the halfling cradled against him and the cushions. And yet again, a hand comes away from Ber, this time to wipe away the tears that streak down a face full of conflicting emotions. He won’t admit to the dusting of pink that grows softly across his almond skin, nor will he admit that the reciprocated tolerance felt... really good to his heart. The tears get wiped away on his own shirt before his hand returns to its partner.
“We tolerate each other. It’s a good start.”
His mind wanders around ideas of soft, tangy cream cheese, and the immediate sensation of Ber’s skin and smell and warmth and... it’s nice. Nicer than cream cheese by a mile....
“You... uh... wanna talk about anything? Or do you want me to just keep holding you and shut my mouth?”
<< I love the fact that Aim’s a corpse eater who also really enjoys sweets and salty treats. He had to find something to eat in between the actual corpse eatings, so why not the worst possible things? >>
@sepulcine from here
“Mhm, it is…~” Ber agreed softly, pressing a kiss to the Sepulcine’s throat with a pleased hum. Fingers curled and uncurled in Aim’s hair lazily, giving a gentle tug at the other’s words. “That’s a boyfriend privilege, you know.” The words were teasing, but if Aim could see his face, the implied “If you’re interested…” would be more than obvious.
It was likely that Aim wouldn’t be getting the hoodie back any time soon, but Ber would be sure to leave his own shirt in its place. Not that it would fit the larger male, but if he really liked the halfling’s smell that much, then it might be nice to lounge around with while Ber was away.
And then Aim began to play with his hair, voice the sweetest whisper in his ear, followed by tiny pecks of kisses, and a soothing purr that Ber was getting so used to. If this kept up, he would fall asleep in no time at all. But would that be so bad? He was the one that had asked to be held in the first place. This was what he had wanted, and they’d curled up like this before, he just…
He didn’t expect that it would make him feel so warm. That it would make his heart beat steady, and put his mind at ease. It kind of reminded him of…
“We said we’d take this slow, but…I want you to know why.” Ber murmured, smiling softly. “I was married once before. When I was younger. It wasn’t really a good relationship…not usually, anyway. I still loved him— he was my soul mate. He was killed, though. And when he died, I…well, you know. I can’t die. So it tore my soul up, and…I don’t know, it hurts. And because of that, I’m…” He bit his lip, somehow snuggling even closer. “Love just…scares me.”
He listened. All he could do was listen. Thoughts of love were something so foreign to him, despite that warm feeling at the back of his neck, hidden under the wrinkled collar of his t-shirt. He knew it, but... hadn’t known it in the way Ber went on to describe. So he simply listened.
He wanted to say something, to speak out in spite of this previous mate that had done Ber wrong in his own mind. The halfling deserved affection and warmth, nothing less. Wasn’t a good relationship... and yet you still loved him? Because you felt he was your soulmate? Ber.... His thoughts would remain sacred, quiet things buried away. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to call out anything he thought was ludicrous, but... this was something Ber seemed serious about, and something he wasn’t going to undermine. Not after all this time. It was stored away, though -- earmarked in an imaginary journal, flagged with red to keep him from making any mistakes about it.
“I.... don’t really know what to say,” he confessed. His voice was as quiet as he could make it in an attempt to comfort the hoodie-thief against his chest. “I don’t know a lot of things. When it comes to matters of the heart, I’m no better than a toddler trying to learn the positions of the stars in the sky. But... something fond’s gone and curled up in my chest for you. I find you extremely tolerable... and I mean that in the best way I can -- given I can’t tolerate most people, you know...” He was stumbling over his words, unsure of how to state the obvious, unsure of how to say it in a way that wouldn’t sound... like he was pressuring Ber into saying it.
“You don’t--we don’t have to say those things. But, if I can say one thing, from the bottom of my rotting heart: I’m going to do everything I can to show you the depths of my tolerance.” He was just replacing “love” with “tolerance,” but... that’s the most Aim thing he can do to show his affection. “And I won’t stop. Because you deserve it all, and then some.” Another kiss, softer than any other has ever been, to a lip that was partially swollen from the pressure of teeth against such delicate flesh.
“I’d even eat lobster with you, okay?” It was a quiet joke and a subtle display of his tolerance as he pulled away with a soft smile of his own.
ONE ( NAME / ALIAS ): Jug(gernaut) / Raid / Nero TWO ( BIRTHDAY ): 5 February THREE ( ZODIAC SIGN ): Aquarius / Rooster FOUR ( HEIGHT ): 5′7″ - 5′8″ (depending on if I’m wearing my cowboy boots or not lmao) FIVE ( HOBBIES ): Writing, gardening, gamin’, sometimes reading, drawing, bird watching SIX ( FAVOURITE COLOUR(S) ): BLUE, BLUE, BLUE, BLUE, AND OH YEAH, BLUE SEVEN ( FAVOURITE BOOKS ): Paradise Lost, The Revenant, JoJo’s Part 3 (I love them all but SDC is my home okay???) EIGHT ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO: ): Country Song - Seether NINE ( LAST FILM WATCHED ): Don’t really watch movies. Probably the SDC OVA though. TEN ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE ): Vidya games, my biggest influence honestly, and sometimes books (not so much for Aim, but I’m sure if I read something interesting in Moby Dick or Dracula I’ll incorporate it in my own way lol) ELEVEN ( DREAM JOB ): Fighter Pilot (Never gonna happen with my shit eyes, but a kid can dream) TWELVE ( MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL ): [stares at it.... stares directly into the camera like ‘You’re not serious are you?’] To be honest, though, I should probably change it since Aim’s the only boyo here, thus not justifying the “plural” version of the word.
Tagged by: @theirinnocencelost ([holds out fist for a fistbump at Aya]) Tagging: I’m not going to tag anyone. Do it if you want.
