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Flame's lungs are aching, and his hands are cold. The maze of spikes and void leave him breathless and scared. He's never been scared of heights. He's fallen into the void constant of times, has felt the devastating effects of the gas filling his lungs and suffocating him fast like no other. This is different. There's flooring, but there's no way to know where it is. Flame isn't meant to be in the cold. His nether-born body isn't meant to hold this type of temperature.
But he needs to find Lomedy. He needs to keep Skrilly alive — and he needs Flow and Mistrul to get off his ass. Two impossible caveats when his fingers are stiff and the stupid armor that binds to his skin are weak and useless.
"Sk-.. Skrilly!! Get out, dude!" He yells into the abyss. He's falling deeper down, the air getting thinner, and the temperatures just below freezing. Sweat dries into icicles on his face, his blindfold freezing against his sensitve eyes. His body is worn, and his bones are locked tight. Mistrul and Flow both laugh at him as they both throw hits at him.
Flame's own hits are lazy and tired — his arms ache, his temperature is dropping lower and lower until he feels cold.
He's never felt cold before.
Nether-borns don't have the capacity to feel cold.
Feeling cold means death.
Flame doesn't want to die. He wants to find Lomedy, he needs to find Lomedy — its all his fucking fault Lomedy is gone, it's all his fault Lomedy is dead. He's selfish, this wasn't the first time he put Lomedy's life in danger — back during Law days Lomedy had gone to jail. Now he's dead.
His partner is dead.
Flame feels a sob crawl up his throat at that.
Mistril and Flow both stand in front of him as Flame's totem pops. His knees buckle onto the ice. "You.. you gave me this armor.. hn..?" He says, looking up at Flow. The man hums knowingly. Mistrul steps foward.
"You look good in my insignia, Flame. My personal bitch." He sneers, a possessive tone in his voice. Flame is too tired to fight. He can't. He hopes Skrilly made it out alive so his efforts wouldn't be for naught. Its the least Flame can do after lettimg all the other man's friends die. Its him who should've died instead. Selfish, cowardly Flamefrags. He's not meant to keep friends around, not with his dangerous lifestyle and craving of violence and blood.
"Just.. get it over with already." He bows his head, already going through people who he has wronged. If he's going to die, he may as well die with forgiveness and closure.
Even though technically all those apologize would go unsaid..
To Wemmbu for ruining his little invis knight arc shit — he knows the man just wanted to live a peaceful life. Flame should've been more like him. Its no wonder Egg hasn't betrayed the purple-haired demon. Wemmbu gives him reasons to stay. Flame isn't like that.
To Wemmbu.. (again) for betraying him after the 2v1000. Teaming with him was fun, Flame can't lie. It was his thrive to protect his stupid title that ruined what could've been between him and Wemmbu. They're so good together. Partners in crime, Flame would say. He wonders how the man is doing right now.
To Jaden.. no wait, fuck Jaden.
To Lomedy of course — Flame wishes he was stronger. If he wasn't so fucking selfish. Lomedy loved him so much, helped him with whatever Flame needed and he took advantage of that. He took advantage of his boyfriend's kindness and that got him killed. People who stay near Flame never stay long. He hopes wherever Lomedy goes (Flame never believed in a heaven or hell) that Lomedy can farm all the crops he wants.
He sniffles. He's pathetic.
Flow hums.
"What're we gonna do to him, Mist?" He questions. Looking up at the tall, intimidating man. His dark, jet-black skin and down-turned teal irises only stare at Flame. He licks his teeth as he grins.
"Grab him. I have a few plans in mind."
Flame's eyes widen as Flow walks over to him, grabbing him by the hair. He wrenches his head up and back, his grip unwavering. Flame hisses, a growl crawling up his throat. "How do you want him, boss?" Asks Flow, grinning. Mist takes a step forward, staring down at Flame.
"On his hands and knees." He orders. Flow looks down at Flame.
"You heard the man, bitch. Go on." Flow says, pulling him by the dreads once again. A headache blooms behind his eyes, both from the cold and the hair-pulling definitely isn't fucking helping. Glaring at both men through his blindfold Flame follows, positioning himself like a dog, his hands flat against the cold ice. This is humiliating. He can only shiver in fear. There is no other explanation for what's gonna happen to him.
"Oh, he looks good like this, doesn't he boss?" Flow chuckles, standing behind Flame. Mistrul's eyes and face are unmoving. Forced into a permanent scowl.
Mistrul ignores Flow's comment to walk up to Flame, grabbing him by the jaw. He goes down onto a crouch. "This is how you should be." He says. "The position came to you so naturally, huh?" A deep, grumbly chuckle escapes him. "How many others have put you into this position?" He asks. Behind him Flow chuckles.
"Maybe that Lomedy boy, huh?" Mistril looks up at Flow before his eyes descend to Flame.
"Hm. Who knew Flamefrags was a little faggot." He spits, letting his jaw go before standing back up. Flame swallows, icy air entering already burning lungs. "Prep him for me, I want to see how well of a cocksucker he is." He grumbles out. Flow, behind Flame, nods his head. The armor bound to his skin makes it awkward, but with a scarily close strike to his ass — the diamond pants break. A harsh shiver crawls through his form. His skin prickles, the large hoodie he wears not enough to fend off the chill. Flow's hands grope his ass, tracing the large globes of skin over his black cargo pants.
"Stop teasing Flow — we're not trying to make him feel good." Mistrul spits out, annoyed. Flow rolls his eyes, a pout on his lips.
"God forbid I want to savor this! Not everyday one gets to rape Flame!" He huffs. Mistrul only gives him an eyeroll and Flow goes back to the main goal. His belt is swiftly removed from his waist, black leather thing tossed calrelessly onto the ice. It slides away from him slowly. "Ya want them off the whole way?" He questions. Mistrul hums as he palms himself.
"I don't want Flame to freeze to death-" is this a rare moment of kindness Flame is hearing?
"-I'm not into necrophilia." Ah.
Spoke too soon.
He huffs.
Mistrul smiles at him, petting his face. Flame wants to bite his fucking hand off. He bears his teeth, a growl on his lips — that only forms into a shiver when his pants and boxers are removed, dropped below his thighs. Bare heated skin is met with the harsh, needle-like feeling of coldness. He balls his hands into fists, whining. Mistrul picks his head up, thumb over his lips. "Let's see how well that gag reflex of yours-"
"Wait- I do get to have a turn with Flame, right?"" Flow blinks.
For fucks sake.
Flame really, really wants him dead. The both of them.
Mistrul growls. "Yes- yes, for fucks sake, Flow. Get to prepping him and shut up." He snarls out.
Flow mumbles under his breath in a mimicry of Mistrul's words, fingers lubing themselves up with spit. One hand spreads Flame's cheeks, his winking, rosy anus winking up at Flow needily. "Pretty thing, wow." Flow chuckles. "I almost feel bad about this." He smiles around his own fingers. Suddenly, the wet pad of a digit presses insistently against his hole. Flame doesn't want to complain — he does, but at least they're prepping him. That's the most Flame can ask for.
In front of him Mistrul's leather glove-clad thumb runs around his thick lips. "Bite me and I kill you now." He sneers. "Leave your body here to freeze — maybe let your little white-haired friend see how much you like being raped." His eyes widen, the prospect of Skrilly still being here bringing a shiver down his body, not caused by the cold.
He breathes out, swallowing a curse he wants to spit. Cursing them out will only make this more painful for him. He relaxes, tongue out. Mistrul smiles down at him, a leather-clad thumb making its way past Flame's lips. "Suck." He sneers. Flame does just that, his head bobbing up and down Mistrul's thumb while behind them, Flow had reached the first knuckle. He doesn't allow them to hear him moan, only a soft huff of air leaving him.
"Oh, he's so tight.." Flow chuckles, finger going to the second knuckle in his ass. There's definitely not enough saliva, and it seems they didn't care — but again. Its something. Flame would rather have some prep than none at all. Mistrul only grins down at him, sharp pearl-white canines glinting.
"Hurry up, I'm just aching to see if he's as tight as you say.." Mistrul growls out. Flow hums.
"I do get a turn with him, no?" He probes.
Mistrul groans, rolling his eyes. "For fucks sake—yes, just shut up and do what I told you to."
Flow groans like a child denied his screentime as another finger is bullied past his rim, the sudden stretch making him yelp. "Oh, he likes that, doesn't he?" Flow hums, curling the pads of his fingers against Flame's prostate. That gets them a moan, Flame's eyes rolling to the back of his head, muffled against the thumb in his mouth. Flame has been so busy, he and Lomedy haven't had time to themselves.
Flame misses his Lomedy.
"Did we find the slut's bitch button?" Questions Mistrul, shoving his thumb past Flame's tongue. Flame gags, though he continues to suck, eyes glaring behind the blindfold. He's going to give them both a slow, painful fucking death.
"Stop." Mistrul suddenly tells Flow. "I think that's enough prep for you." He suddenly says. Flame's muffle words of disagreement are ignored.
Because why wouldn't they be?
-
Mistrul fucks him hard from behind — the minimum prep definitely not enough for Mistrul's large, inhumanely girthy dick. He doesn't know what species Mistrul even is — it feels like some fucking tentacle. Still though — it rips through him, Mistrul's thrusts brutal and harsh, his body rocking foward in each pass. "Ah! Ah! Oh- ffuuchhh!! Guh- gck!" His moans echo through the icy spikes, yet most muffled by Flowtive's dick lodged into his throat.
The man holds him by the dreads as he fucks his dick in. Flow is smaller than Mistrul, average probably. "God.. fuck.. he just takes it so good, doesn't he?" Flow comments, using Flame's mouth like a fleshlight as he puppeteers him by his hair. Mistrul only grumbles out breathlessly, hands digging into his hips as he focuses. Flame's dick has a mind of its own — dripping onto the cold ice. He's so hard and he's devastatingly embarassed of the fact.
He tries not to derive enjoyment from this, imagination letting him instead thimk of Lomedy. Lomedy's scent of honey and dandelions, his warm arms that encompass him at every given moment, the scent of his hair, the smell of his clothing, his laugh, his smile, his-
A sudden sensation whisks him away from his daydreaming, a hand wrapping itself around his dick. "You don't get to derive enjoyment from this." Mistrul sneers, his hand squeezing Flame's dick painfully tight. Flame sobs onto Flow's dick. They're getting faster, sloppier — Mistrul shoves himself in deep once more before he comes with a deep rumble, breathing out a sigh.
Flow, with one hand wrenches Flame off his dick, the other taking his dick in hand to fist his length for a few strokes. Flame is out of it, his body soon depeleting of its natural heat. Flow huffs as he cums all over Flame's face, ropes of hot seed spread over the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, framing him in white.
They leave him there, used up and shivering in the cold.
He barely hears Skrilly running towards him, the man's panicked voice muffled to his ears as the world goes dark.
-
Flame didnt think he'd see Lomedy again.
Skrilly helped him so much. Helped him get out of that stupid ice place after that happened and gave up so many of his friends just for this. Now, he got Lomedy back??
Flame owes his life to Skrilly.
Even seeing Lomedy here Flame can't believe it.
"Lommy?" He breathes out. His body untenses, his mouth agape. What he had held in his hands while organizing shulkers clashes onto the floor. Lomedy's smile is like a ray of sun.
"Yo, yo, yo!!"
Flame runs to him in tears, encompassing him in a large hug. Both men fall onto the diorite floor but they don't care. Flame doesn't care that he's showing his vulnerable side — he cries in Lomedy's arms like a child, squeezing him as if to reassure himself he's here. The scent of honey and dandelions makes him sob — he could've lost this forever. "Shhhh.. I'm here, baby.." Lomedy cooes. A hand rubs his back, the other grabbing him by the cheek to look at him, tears are wetting his blindfold, snot dripping from his nose like a kid.
A hand reaches up to untie his blindfold, sensitive ruby-red doe eyes meet Lomedy's, glassy with tears. "I'm okay, pretty boy. See?" He smiles. He can only sniffle and cry.
Lonedy kisses him, and instead of the sweet peach flavor Flame tastes from Lomedy's chapstick — he tastes bitter ash.
He's just glad his Lomedy is back safely.