#ngl this word stumped me for a while so i let it sit until i came up with whatever this is

[sealrock]

gate - for the generator drabble prompt!

cw: discussions & depictions of blood, violent death

(ty for the ask @gatheredfates!)

Two tombstones sat before me, weathered by harsh rain and blistering heat. This is my last stop for the week. I need not look at the faded inscriptions, for I knew who lay underneath the baked earth of the High Seraph's acre. Another tombstone in a forgotten corner of the field belonged to someone I once knew, someone who had gotten too close to my sister. I already gave my respects to him; I told him that his son, my nephew, was growing into a beautiful young boy who took after him. It's such a shame Nestor never got to see him. Father murdered him. Nestor was never a family member, but Mother treated him like one of us. I convinced Father to allow him a proper burial here, for it was what Mother would've wanted. Briseis will thank me later when her time comes. In about a week, that is.

Since I was a little girl, the vision of five empty graves troubled my thoughts. My father stood in front of them, shovel in hand. I gingerly knelt in front of my mother's grave and let my parasol rest beside me now that noonday sun had passed, the clear blue skies now a rich and vivid mix of reds and oranges. I emptied my bag of supplies, no longer heavy enough to strain the muscles in my shoulder now that I offered services to every tombstone. No one in the family would dare travel here during the dryest part of the day since the trek to the graveyard was taxing enough on the body without running the risk of heatstroke. But the threat of dehydration never stopped me. It's my duty to tend to the graves of the dearly departed, all seven and ninety of them. I clean the graves, offer food and drink, and weekly prayers for each, even if I only know a handful. Most have been here since before I was born.

"Hello, Mother," my words came out in a hushed tone, as if not to disturb the eternal rest of long-gone strangers, "I brought more Galbana lilies for you, fresh from your favorite florist. This year has been good for the flowers, I believe. They're much redder than usual."

I pushed the thought of how much they reminded me of blood from my mind. I used to see visions of blood as a child, gushing waves of blood that flowed from the grand entrance of my home towards the gilded gate that separated us from the outside world. My loved ones walked through that gate, not knowing what fate would hold for them, no matter my attempts to stop them. It became an unconscious habit of mine to walk through the gate first as if to spare someone else I care about the pain of death. People have called me overly superstitious, but they'd fail to understand the reasoning. It's futile of me to try, but try I must.

My mother, a beauty beyond compare with the name Hecuba, was ready to storm through that gate after one final argument with my father before he shoved her down the staircase. Her long and thick black hair obscured the disturbing crookedness of her neck. I was only eight years old when that vision, a 'shimmer' as my mother called it, troubled my dreams a few days before the incident. My mother knew what was about to occur, for she also had the gift. She accepted her death with a sad smile as I sobbed the tale to her, gathering me up into her arms and squeezing me tight. If I focus hard enough, I can still smell her elegant perfume of citrus and spices, and suddenly I'm a little girl again, safe from the outside world as long as I stay close to her.

I brushed away the dust and dirt from her grave and uprooted stray weeds. It's the least I could do for her, for she could rest assured knowing that her only surviving daughter was tending to her final resting place. I placed the lilies on the surface of her grave and lit a few incense for my prayers. My elder sisters lay next to her—well, one sister did. The body of the eldest remains missing from the wreckage of her final voyage at sea. My father fell to his knees and unleashed a deep, mournful wail at the gate of the manor when the tragic news reached him. My sister's treasured medallion necklace, a nameday gift from our father when she was twelve, was all that remained of her. His tears were genuine then, and he was beside himself more than he was at his wife's funeral.

I knew she wasn't dead, for I receive visions of her to this day. Even all these years later, my father refused to believe me. After a harsh slap to my cheek from his heavy hand one night, I was told to never speak of Andromache again. Andromache was dead, that much was certain since we had the memorial service, even if her grave held an empty coffin.

Andromache... My dear sister. That was the name she chose for herself. The inscription over her empty grave holds an identity she discarded, the identity our father spoke of with swelling pride and affection. The firstborn of our family, the spitting image of Priam, Andromache had our father wrapped around her finger the minute she came screaming into the world. Deiphobus and Idomeneus were too young to remember her, but Briseis and I idolized her as children—she could do no wrong in our eyes. As much as we adored our sister, Andromache ran away soon after our mother died. Her death had the worst impact on Andromache, and I caught glimpses as to why as I sat through my piano lessons the day leading up to the accident: fleeting images told me that Andromache witnessed everything. Father had forced Andromache to make it seem like our mother took her own life by leaving her to hang from the balustrade. Poor Deiphobus, just five summers old, found her body an hour later; his scream rings clear in my head to this day.

For two years, Andromache couldn't take the guilt of her actions, and her vow of silence ate away at her insides. She assumed we would hate her for participating in the act, for not saying anything about how our mother died. I didn't blame her; I told her what I knew and that Andromache had nothing to fear. But she left anyway. In the dead of night, she slipped through that rusty iron gate with nothing but a saddlebag of meager provisions and kissed my heated forehead goodbye. Andromache wouldn't look at the stream of tears that stained my distraught face as I frantically begged her to stay, my trembling hands pulling at her tunic with all my might. I told her she would die in deep water; she just smiled at me—the same way our mother did. She whispered this to me before vanishing into the inky blackness of the night, her hand gently pressing against my ribs, my racing heart pulsing against her palm:

"I will always be here with you, little sister."

Barely a fortnight later, we learned of a boat to Limsa Lominsa capsizing after a treacherous storm, a boat my sister was last seen boarding. My father would rest his tortured brow against the gate after each search party ended with empty hands. I never thought she had survived. The fact my vision turned out to be wrong gave me hope that Andromache would return someday. I wish to see her again. I desperately wish to see her push open that gate and pretend nothing happened. I want my big sister back.

"Forgive me, Andi, for I did not bring anything for you this time. Please accept my prayers of safety and good travels in exchange."

I conducted the same routine with the empty grave: I brushed away the dirt and pulled the weeds. I poured the drink and prepared the food. It's methodical and mechanical work. I forgot when I stopped crying. It must've been once I married my good husband and welcomed my beautiful son into the world. I no longer have time to cry. All I can do is sigh over how the two most important people in my life missed out on two wonderful moments I couldn't share with anyone else. Most people in my family believed me spoiled, that I clung to my mother's apron strings too tightly or hid behind my sister's towering form the older I grew. I can't help that I miss them. My brother Deiphobus, my equally clingy younger brother who thinks himself wise, chides and chastises me like I'm still a child. Idomeneus has no recollection of the people we talk about—they're ghosts without a face to him. 

Once I cleaned the graves, I began my last prayers, my hands squeezing the meat of my thighs beneath my dark-colored dress. The desert birds and insects seemingly fell silent around me in respect. A cool summer breeze fluttered through the low-hanging branches of a great willow tree, the scent of mourning incense tickling my nose. I prayed to the High Seraph that my loved ones were at peace; I failed them because my warnings were unheeded. A task like this would've fallen to the eldest child—that would be Briseis now. I'm not as close to Briseis these days, as much as it saddens me to say. We drifted apart through the years as I became a second mother to our brothers while she pursued other interests. Briseis wasn't ready for the strain of responsibility. And so she fought back against our father's rules at every turn. That's how she ended up with Evander. That was one of the many nails in her coffin.

I've become more of a surrogate mother to Evander and his brother Patroclus than an aunt these last few moons. It's in my nature to care for others—it keeps me from rattling my mouth about my 'hallucinations,' I suppose. Despite how far we've drifted, I still care for her. She's the only sister I have left. There's a patch of dirt next to Andromache's fake grave, and soon, it will be home to two more coffins. The images disturbed me: my sister and brother-in-law assailed by an unknown intruder. Black blood poured from their gashes and wounds, their faces twisted in terror. The trembling form of a shell-shocked Patroclus nudging them to wake up rattled me the most. He would be witness to the bloodletting.

I cannot do anything to stop it. They will come through the gate within the week and argue about something to Father. Father would punish them with death. I cannot warn Briseis, for I know what she'll do. Briseis will smile at me, half sad and half patronizing, and hug me gently. She's oblivious to what would happen to her. Her children will be orphaned and made to fight each other like dogs. The murders will never be solved, for I do not know who killed them. 

I sighed as I got to my feet, my dress covered with sand and clay. It's dusk now, I've tarried long enough. My husband will grow worried if I arrive home after dark. I must prepare myself to look after more graves of the ones I love soon. I have no other choice.

[tanzaniiite]

can i request the trend of tiktok “the faster you get to me the more kisses you get!” with tsukishima, akaashi, bokuto and hinata? 🥺👉👈

“THE FASTER YOU GET TO ME, THE MORE KISSES YOU GET” TREND

w/ tsukishima, akaashi, bokuto, hinata & iwaizumi

requests: OPEN

warnings: talk of pee and poop in iwaizumi’s

a/n: of course you can! thanks for the request! 💓 (also the trend is used more as a prompt than it is as the main focus whoops 🤡)

i added iwaizumi bc he was requested in another ask so i just merged the two. my character limit is still four max!

who gave him the right 🥵

the salt lick himself

this dude is annoyingggg

you already knew what his reaction was gonna be,, so why bother?

welll you just wanted to be like all the other tiktok girls 👉🏽👈🏽

you wait until you see tsukki and yama walking out of the club room and towards you

you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment

“babe! the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get!”

no shit, he stops in his tracks. yama’s just looking at him like ‘what you finna do?’

you know what he does? turns around and starts walking in THE OTHER DIRECTION

you are… baffled

when finally catch up to him, you’re pouting

“dude, what the hell?”

he glances at you, then flicks your forehead dummy hard

you’re triggered, “did you just flick me?”

this snarky mf is now laughing at you

btw yamaguchi is very uncomfortable rn

tsukishima the leans down, bean pole headass, and kisses your forehead

“sorry i don’t do dumb tik tok trends”

“it’s not dumb! you just didn’t want to kiss me”

he looks at you with an unimpressed look, as if saying, ‘we both know that’s not true’

alas you’re still pouting

yama: “haha this is me, see you guys tmmr” *leaves in awkward*

tsukishima knows your not gonna stop acting like a baby until he gives you what you want

he sighs, walks a couple feet away from you, pulls out his phone and starts recording

“say the thing”

“huh?”

“the trend thing. say it”

your eyes light up so much and tsukki smiles a bit

he’s so soft for you uwu

“the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get!”

because he’s a tall boi, it only takes him a few steps to get to you but when he does, he kisses you hard

like damn, okay sir

when he pulls away you’re flustered asf, he chuckles and stops recording

“happy?”

this poor boy wouldn’t know a tiktok trend if it punched him the face

i hate to say it, but he’s a boomer 😔🤘🏽 just like dadchi

he’s at your house picking you up for a date and your sibling is bombarding him with questions

when you come out, akaashi is like ‘oh thank goodness’

you smile at him, then wack your sibling in their side

“stop bothering him you weirdo!”

“what we’re just having a nice lil chat”

you shake your head and start to walk away but your sibling is holding akaashi back, giving him the typical ‘you hurt her, i kill you’ speech

now you know your boyfriend is great when he’s under pressure but.. this is new territory for him

you remember a trend that you saw a while back and decide to do it now

you know keiji wants your family to like him, so he’ll be conflicted between going to you or staying and listening to your siblings speech

it’s perfect really

so you pull out your phone and start recording

“baby! the faster you get to me, the sooner we can go on our date and the more kisses you’ll get”

my guy just blinks, “it is getting late..”. plus he’s not opposed to the kissing part so he starts to walk towards you

“hey! i’m not done talking to you”

‘that’s true, it would be rude of me to walk away mid conversation… if you could even call it that’ he thinks

you laugh slightly, you can practically see the gears spinning in his head

“keiji come on we don’t have all day”

“don’t you walk away from me”

akaashi sighs loudly. the longer he spends talking to your sibling the less time he has with you. if he walks away, he’s at risk of your sibling hating him. he’s stumped.

suddenly he turns to your sibling, “sorry l/n, we can continue this discussion later. y/n and i have a date that’s very time sensitive. i apologize”

he then walks to you and grabs your hand before walking off

“y’know my crackhead sibling was just mess with you right? you could’ve just walked away”

“i figured, but that’s still rude”

ugh we stan boy who has manners

“so.. um, may i get a kiss now?”

omg he’s so cute i love him 🥺

you grin and pepper his face with a bunch of kisses, making him blush slightly

tbh you don’t even need to ask, this dude is infatuated w/ you

he’ll run to you any day of the week

but what had happened was.. y’all were on a date and bokuto went to go get ice cream

but that was like 15 mins ago and you’re just sitting on the park bench looking like a fool

and ngl you were a little worried bc bokuto is so easy to distract you’re thinking he fell into a pond or something

so you go to look for him and tbh it doesn’t take long cause cmon,, it’s bokuto

he be loud asf

n e ways, there he is in all his glory playing with a German Shepard who looked like it was trying so hard not to bite him

the owner looked nervous asf but was probably too nervous to say something social anixety be like that

bokuto spots you and waves at you frantically

“hey babe! look at this dog! it’s so cute!”

ugh bless him

you send the owner an apologetic look and turn back to bokuto

“it is cute but i think you’re aggravating it.. i don’t want you to get bitten. let’s go”

“it won’t bite me!” *to dog* “right? you’re too good to bite me, yes you are, yes you are”

*inhales* this stubborn kid, so now you got to think of a new tactic

you suddenly remember that bokuto is affectionate x1 mil

he would never miss a chance to be smothered in love

this was as good a time as any to do this trend and save your bf in the process :))

you whip out your phone, “hey baby? the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get”

when i tell you his head SWIVELED

the dude is an owl confirmed 🙌🏽

literally almost trips trying to get to you, now he’s looking at you like an excited puppy ready for pats

the owner gives you thankful look and leaves

bokuto is still staring at you, waiting for his smooches

so you deliver 😌 you grab his face and kiss all around and place a final kiss on his lips

bokuto looks so happy, like he’s smiling so wide rn

all hail tiktok it rly be saving your stupid boyfriend

my bby 🥺

he loves you so so so so much

hinata will do anything for you yes anything

and the feeling is mutual, but sometimes you cannot comprehend what goes on in that mind if his

like,, you could not, for the life of you, understand why he ran into MOVING TRAFFIC

let me tell you what happened

so you were shopping with your friends (and just to clarify y’all were a strip where there’s a bunch of stores on each block)

you guys were just casual walking and then your friend pointed out that it sounded like someone was calling your name

you looked around and there was your orange fuzzy bouncing up and down on the other side of the street

“BABY! BABE! Y/N! LOOK!”

too cute i swear

you smiled and waved, “hi baby!”

“wait until i get across this street imma kiss you so hard!”

cue your friends gagging

you giggle and decide to reference a tiktok cause why not?

“the faster you get to me, the more kisses you can get!”

b-but he thought you were serious

so yes he ran into the middle of a busy street

you are traumatized, paralyzed with fear if you will, you thought your boyfriend was going to die right in front of you

when he finally reached you, you scolded him mother hen mode activated

“why the hell would you do that hinata?!”

uh oh, you used his last name.. not good

“but you said–”

“i was joking!”

oh. now he’s embarrassed and sad bc you’re mad at him

at least he thought you were until you grabbed him and hugged him tightly, “don’t ever do any dumb shit like that again, okay? you scared me”

“i won’t,, but since i did risk my life, can i get a kiss?”

“NO.”

i feel like y’all have a relationship where you guys can be mean(?) to each other w/o getting offended

so you guys are at your house watching Netflix together and he suddenly gets up and leaves your room

“where are you going?”

“gotta piss”

istg i hate the word “piss” but IK he says that instead of “pee”

n e ways you resume watching the show but your bf’s been gone for like 10 mins

you go to the bathroom and knock on the door, “hey, you good in there? it doesn’t take 10 minutes to pee”

you hear him groan, “fuck off”

and then,, it all clicks, “are you constipated?!”

“FUCK OFF”

now you’re laughing your ass of bc what the fuck

“don’t clog my toilet nasty”

“y/n i swear to god if you don’t leave me alone–”

“what? are you gonna fling your doo doo on me?”

you finally stop teasing him and go back to your room

you send him a text, ‘still constipated? 💩’

‘breaking up w/ you is looking mighty tempting rn 🥴’

‘rude 🤧 but hey, the faster you poop, the more kisses you get’

this dude left you on read

and didn’t return until 20 mins later

“damn i know my bathroom stinks now”

“shut up and give me my kisses”

you raise an eyebrow, “i– you took 20 mins”

“okay.. did you want me to get up mid shit and come to you?”

you don’t why but that shit had you cackling, you reach up and pull him close to you

you give him a couple of pecks and a deep kiss

aww he’s smiling 🥺

“i love you my lil doo doo machine”

he pushed you off your bed

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[dweetwise]

A Jeff x Ace prompt extending from the werebear ask, which you can make as nsfw or clean as you'd like: Ace and Jeff are relaxing and talking together away from the campire, which escalates to cuddling and rolling around, changing positions a lot. Ace rolls himself ontop of Jeff's torso, leaving Jeff on his back and face up... looking into the full moon hanging in the sky. 🐻 time.

ok ngl i vibed hard with this ask, i never even considered this ship before but now i love it bless you <3 this is just self-indulgent fluff with a sprinkle of angst, apologies if you wanted a crackfic! (based on these headcanons!)

word count: 3772

(werebear!)Jeff X Ace ft. tooth-rotting fluff

Jeff doesn’t know when he’s last been this happy. The warm laughter of the man next to him never fails to calm his nerves, and he smiles at the joke the other cracks despite it not being one of his best.

Ace is gesturing animatedly, in the middle of telling another story of riches and grandeur from his youth, a glint in his familiar brown eyes and a grin staying on his face the entire time. Jeff knows the other can come across as overbearing to some, seemingly never running out of bad jokes and incredulous tales, but Jeff can’t see himself ever tiring of hearing Ace talk.

One of Ace’s hands nearly smacks him in the face when he tries to show just how big of a pile of poker chips he won in the illegal game. Jeff is thankful for his quick reflexes when he’s able to grab the eager hand before it hits his brow, and Ace pauses mid-sentence to offer him a sheepish grin, looking apologetic.

When Jeff brings the hand to his mouth and brushes his lips over the dry knuckles, Ace’s expression softens into a fond smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. When Ace looks at him like that, it’s almost enough for Jeff to forget what a monster he is.

He would have never imagined letting the others know about his curse could allow him to grow closer to some of them. He expected everyone to be scared and disgusted, distancing themselves and maybe even kicking him out of their shared camp. He wouldn’t have blamed them; who would want to share their only safe place with a werebear?

Instead, the majority had been surprisingly understanding, and Jeff was taken aback by just how worried Claudette and some of the others were about him instead of fearing for themselves. A few of the more tactical survivors like Bill vowed not to treat him any differently than before, recognizing the strategic advantage of his strength in trials.

But by far the biggest surprise had been Ace. The other reacting to the revelation with humor was nothing out of the ordinary, but he also made it a point to constantly BE there, often butting in with a well-timed joke when the likes of David or Tapp were giving Jeff a hard time.

“Gentlemen, please!” Ace had said with a warm smile, a hand on Tapp’s tense shoulder as he managed to slink between David and Jeff. “You know Jeff wouldn’t hurt a fly—he’s a big softie!”

“He’s unpredictable—” Tapp tried to argue.

“Hmm, see, I recall a certain ms. Kimura breaking my arm on one occasion, not to mention David clocking Quentin square in the face. Oh, remember the time Meg kicked Ash and broke his knee? That was fun!”

“What’s yer point?” David spat.

“That you should be grateful the one with this power is someone with better self-control,” Ace said and stared David straight in the eye, and Jeff saw defiance burning in the gamblers’ usually friendly eyes.

“I’m sorry baby, I got a little carried away,” Ace says, snapping Jeff out of his thoughts. “You know you can just tell me to shut up.”

“And miss hearing about the biggest jackpot of the decade? Not a chance,” he says with a smile, giving Ace’s hand a squeeze before releasing it.

“Sweet of you to pretend you haven’t heard this story ten times before,” Ace smirks, adjusting his wide-brimmed hat before leaning closer.

“My favorite part is how the pot gets bigger every retelling,” Jeff teases, and gets an amused huff and a light slap against his arm for his troubles.

“Had to tone it down at first, lest you not believe me,” Ace murmurs, face now only inches from his own. Jeff chuckles and tilts his head down to capture the man’s smiling lips in a kiss, having long since learned that Ace will keep talking until he gets the last word.

Jeff remembers when he first realized Ace’s friendliness might be more than just looking out for a brother. He’d gotten back from a trial where he had to transform, and his shirt had been ripped during the process, getting snagged on a tree branch. Back at camp, he loaned a needle and some thread from Quentin to mend the garment. He’d gone to the edge of camp and pulled the shirt off, not realizing he had an audience until he heard a gasp.

Jeff saw some of the girls look over, and he flushed a little at being on display. He wasn’t particularly self-conscious about his body, but the only other person to ever have been shirtless in camp was David, and he knew his own physique was vastly different from the brawler’s. Still, Jeff saw Nancy blush and Zarina avert her eyes, and Kate even blew him a little kiss—which made him feel a little better—before the trio went back to their previous conversation.

And then he spotted a blatantly staring Ace, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. So Ace had a certain kind of reputation, flirting with everyone and even trying some pick-up lines on the killers, and Jeff was no stranger to the occasional cheesy compliments. He expected a tacky wolf-whistle, or maybe some more bear puns due to the generous amount of hair covering his chest, but instead Ace just kept ogling him.

“Well?” Jeff had finally asked, bolder than he meant to, but it made Ace snap out of it and look up at his face, blinking a couple times as to piece his thoughts back together.

“Don’t stop on my behalf,” Ace eventually purred, offering an exaggerated wink before his gaze dropped down to Jeff’s jeans. Jeff gave an amused snort and shook his head in exasperation, sitting down on a tree stump to start fixing his shirt. But some of his focus remained on the gambler, and out of the corner of his eye he caught Ace sneaking glances and fidgeting more than usual, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, trying and failing to appear casual.

A warm hand cups his cheek, and Jeff can’t see himself ever tiring of kissing Ace. If he had his art supplies, he’s pretty sure he could fill an entire gallery with just Ace as his muse. The way his well-trimmed goatee scrapes against Jeff’s own unruly beard, the faint scent of cheap cologne that seems permanently etched into some of his shirts, and the slight softness around his hip when Jeff wraps and arm around him. The way he moans when Jeff bites at his lip, and the way it makes Jeff’s heart flutter and warm feelings of affection spread through his chest.

Ace lays down on the ground and pulls Jeff with him, hands wrapped around his neck and lips never leaving each other’s. Jeff cups the back of Ace’s head to cushion the fall against the ground, careful to guide him away from the rock they have been leaning against.

Ace’s long limbs are sprawled out below Jeff and he tries to deepen the kiss, groaning softly and hands tangling in Jeff’s ponytail. Ace is not a patient man, as Jeff had figured out even before they started dating. Still, Jeff wants to savor the moment, feeling even more sentimental than usual due to the fond memories of the man. He pulls away from the kiss, moving to pepper Ace’s stubbled jawline with butterfly kisses while the other swears softly and yanks at his hair in retaliation.

He'll never forget realizing his own feelings for the man ran much deeper than friendliness and a fleeting infatuation. It had been an easy trial, generators popping left and right while Ace kept the Hillbilly busy. Dwight got the gate open just as Ace finally took a chainsaw to the back and went down with a scream, and Jeff and the remaining two teammates started planning a rescue, their chances looking good as Nea had brought Borrowed Time into the trial.

However, instead of hooking Ace, the killer had merely stood above his prone body, revving his chainsaw menacingly. Ace had clearly managed to get under his skin, and now he was going to make sure the man bled out on the ground even if it meant displeasing the Entity. Jeff didn’t blame Nea and Dwight for leaving, as there wasn’t anything they could do. But he could.

Jeff looked up at the full moon above the Autohaven junkyard and let himself transform into the alter form he hated so much, his determination drowning out some of the pain. With the steadily ticking end game timer leaving no time to waste, Jeff took off in a sprint back into the trial grounds, his four legs carrying him much faster than any other survivor could run.

The Hillbilly spotted him charging and as Jeff tackled the killer to the ground and away from Ace, the grimy chains of the machine dug into the flesh of his shoulder through the thick fur. It was far from enough to stop him, and he roared in pain and lifted his massive paw up to strike at the killer. The next few seconds were a blur, but soon the killer underneath him wasn’t moving at all and the discarded chainsaw laid to the side, sputtering quietly.

Not wasting any more time on the killer, Jeff hurried over to where Ace was laying. Relief flooded through him upon seeing the man was still conscious, looking at him even while he was too tired to lift his head up from the muddy ground.

“Didn’t have to come back for… little old me,” Ace croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, forcing a pained, blood-stained grin on his face.

Jeff knew they didn’t have much time, both Ace’s injuries and the Entity’s impatience ensuring the gambler’s impending doom. Jeff had never been able to change back to a human at will, and thus was unable to tend to the man’s gaping wounds. Ace wasn’t getting out of here on foot, and they both knew it.

Jeff laid down on his stomach next to the man, rolling a little on his side to hopefully allow Ace to crawl on top of his back. He was either carrying the bastard out of here or dying laying next to him; he refused to leave the broken man to suffer alone.

“Didn’t take you for a little spoon,” Ace, mangled badly enough to barely have the energy to raise his arm forward, still joked weakly. Jeff let out a small sigh, both relieved and annoyed, but it came out more like a low growl. Ace didn’t seem to care, his shaky hand finding purchase in the fur of Jeff’s neck and gripping tight. Jeff rolled back on his feet, hauling Ace’s mostly limp body with him. With only a small shrug he managed to position the man securely on his back, heart clenching painfully at the distressed gasp the other let out when his broken body was jostled around.

The ground was opening into angry red cracks by the time he managed to run out of the exit. He’s pretty sure Ace passed out on the way to the campfire, hanging limply over his back and the pained huffs of air calming to raspy breaths against Jeff’s neck. But at least he was alive.

Ace’s eyes are full of life when he pulls away from their kiss and smirks roguishly. His thigh bumps against Jeff’s knee and a hand is on his shoulder, and suddenly Jeff is on his back as Ace rolls them over. Ace is now straddling him, a hand on his chest holding him down and a playful grin on his face at having bested him. Jeff takes in his handsome features, his familiar silhouette illuminated against the perpetual night sky, the moonlight framing him beautifully—

“Shit,” Jeff breathes, and he barely has time to shove Ace off of him and roll the opposite way to put distance between them, a piece of his heart breaking at the surprised yelp when his lover falls back to the forest floor. And then, every muscle in his body is burning and he grits his teeth as his spine starts snapping and his nails dig into the ground, the moon awakening an ancient power inside of him that demands to be let out.

Ace’s voice is drowned out during the transformation, the pain and his own self-loathing silencing all his senses. He’s normally in control of his curse, but he hadn’t noticed the sky clearing up, and then he was suddenly on his back and staring right at the moon.

Now fully turned, Jeff bolts into the woods, leaving Ace and the small forest clearing behind, too ashamed to face the man he could have ended up crushing under his weight, or worse. Jeff screws his eyes shut and keeps running, needing to get away—

And then he smashes into something and everything goes black.

“Thanks for earlier,” Ace had said, approaching Jeff with a spring in his step, and it was a relief to see after the close call with the Hillbilly.

“No worries,” Jeff said, scooting over on the ground to make room next to the log he was leaning on, in case Ace decided he wanted to join. “Feeling better?”

“Like a new man!” Ace beamed with familiar bravado, happily taking the offered seat. “Kate and Adam patched me up. Can’t complain,” he grinned suggestively.

“Glad to hear,” Jeff said. He’d never been a particularly jealous person, and he knew Kate and Adam were both attractive. Still, the comment made something sting painfully in his chest.

“You know… I always thought you and Kate were an item,” Ace mused, slumping down against the log and moving his hands to cushion his neck. He was trying so hard to seem nonchalant, but Jeff caught his eyes flickering to Jeff’s face behind the shades. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the only one who was jealous.

“Hmm,” Jeff hummed in acknowledgement. “She’s not my type. Though I can see why you’d think that; she flirts with everyone, so it’s hard to tell when she means it.”

Ace, predictably, didn’t miss the on-the-nose subtext of his statement. The man gave a small smile in agreement, before leaning further back to look up at the stars.

“Want to play a game?” Ace asked, still looking up at the sky but a smirk now spreading over his lips.

“Sure,” Jeff said, shoving down the feeling of being a pawn in a game he didn’t yet see the bigger picture of. He’d never been much for bets or gambling, but surely, this was all in good nature.

“Truth or dare?” Ace asked, turning his head Jeff’s way and showing him the mischievous grin in its entirety.

“Truth,” Jeff decided, smiling at the childish choice of game but curious to see what the other came up with.

“What IS your type?” Ace prodded. “If Kate doesn’t cut it, I don’t know what will,” he joked.

“Hmm,” Jeff pretended to mull over the question. “I’m terribly fond of idiots who provoke the killer enough to get tunneled for five gens. And then use their dying breath as a chance to make inappropriate jokes.”

“Really now?” Ace asked, his smile somehow stretching even wider, but not lifting a finger to make any sort of move.

“Truth or dare?” Jeff asked, obediently playing along with the other’s little game.

“Dare,” Ace said, the word sounding a lot more husky as he removed his shades and gave Jeff a coy look.

Jeff only hesitated for a heartbeat.

“Kiss me.”

When Ace immediately sprung to action, leaning into him and eagerly moving his lips against Jeff’s like it was something he’d wanted to do for a long time, Jeff realized he’d played right into Ace’s hand.

Did he mind? Hell no.

Jeff fades back into consciousness to the sounds of a conversation.

“—but he didn’t mean to! If anything, it was my fault!” He recognizes Ace’s voice anywhere. It sounds like his lover is arguing with someone, but Jeff’s body refuses to move or even blink awake, stuck on the edge of consciousness.

“I told you, he’s dangerous! Whatever it is you think you have, it’s bad for all of us!” He thinks that’s Jane, which would make sense. She’s been one of the most vocal about seeing Jeff for the monster he is.

“What we have is a whole load of ‘mind your own damn business’,” Ace argues. “And I’m not going to ditch him just because you’re scared!”

“You’re insane! You’re going to end up hurt!” Jane tries to reason, and the words cut deep into Jeff’s heart because he knows she’s right. He has no right to be with Ace, but he so desperately wants to.

“Look here you prude bitch,” Ace snaps, and Jeff shares the sentiment of who he thinks is Claudette gasping. He’s never heard Ace insult anyone like that, usually being much wittier and more composed with his criticism. “I know you hate my guts, so don’t try to pretend you give a shit about my well-being. You just want us both to be miserable.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” a gruff voice commands, footsteps approaching the scene.

“Bill, tell him—” Jane demands.

“You shut your mouth,” Bill shoots back, causing Jane to let out an affronted scoff. “Ain’t none of your business what those two—”

“He’s waking up,” Jeff hears Quentin’s voice right above him, not having realized the boy had been so close. The statement is followed by hurried shuffling, and by the time Jeff manages to blink his bleary eyes open, Ace’s blurry face is all he sees.

“Hey, big guy,” Ace is grinning shakily, his features slowly coming into focus. “Feeling better?”

“What happened?” Jeff asks, the lingering awkwardness from having overheard the fight making way for confusion. The last thing he remembers is transforming and running off, and then he blacked out.

“You turned into a bear, ran into a tree and knocked yourself out,” Jake deadpans from his left, sitting by Jeff’s side with some bandages in his hands. “Also, if you guys could stop fucking next to my camp by the glade, that would be great.”

“Didn’t realize there was an audience,” Ace snarks, shooting a glare Jake’s way. Jeff brings his hand up to his head, only to feel bandages wrapped around it. There’s a sting when he presses at his forehead.

“Managed to get a pretty nasty cut,” Quentin says, slapping away his hand from poking at the wound. “Patched it up with some butterfly tape, shouldn’t bleed anymore.”

“Thank you,” Jeff says, offering a small bow of his head to both boys who apparently tended to his wounds.

“Thank us by staying the fuck away from the glade,” Quentin repeats, tired eyes fond even while his voice is filled with threat. Jake clears his throat awkwardly and Jeff fails to hide the surprise on his face. He never realized the two were more than friends.

“Yes yes, now shoo,” Ace butts in, waving the boys away and kneeling down next to Jeff. Jeff spares a glance over his shoulder and notices the others getting back to their normal tasks, apparently giving them some privacy. Though Jane still isn’t looking happy, angrily whispering something to Laurie, but he’ll take what he can get. “I was lucky Jake and Quentin were nearby, they came to check up on the noise and we were able to carry you back to camp. Oh, and apparently running head first into something makes you turn back!” Ace chatters nervously. “Wouldn’t recommend trying it again, though, seeing as you were in pretty bad shape—”

“Hey,” Jeff interrupts softly, grabbing Ace’s hand to ground the other’s racing thoughts. “I’m fine now. Thank you.”

Ace takes a shaky breath that seems to calm him down some. “Why did you run?” he asks in a low murmur, squeezing Jeff’s hand and not bothering to hide the hurt in his expressive eyes.

“I… freaked out,” Jeff confesses, fighting the urge to avert his eyes in shame. “The transformation is always unsettling, but because I didn’t see it coming, it was even worse. I was so afraid I’d accidentally hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I should have realized,” Ace says, eyes casting downward and a sad smile tugging at his lips. “It was my fault.”

“It was nobody’s fault,” Jeff lies, knowing full well the entire thing is one hundred percent on him. Jeff is the one responsible for his curse, and nobody else. Still, he knows the self-deprecating attitude wouldn’t fly with Ace, so he settles on an “It was just unlucky.”

“You know that word doesn’t exist in my vocabulary,” Ace jokes, looking up at him playfully and apparently accepting the reasoning.

“I said ‘unfortunate’, I don’t know what you heard,” Jeff teases and it makes Ace smile brightly and lean in for a quick peck on his lips. Jeff is pretty sure he hears a snort echoing from the other side of camp, but it doesn’t phase him.

“Soo,” Ace drawls, making himself comfortable leaning against Jeff who still doesn’t feel like his pounding head will allow him to walk properly. “Since we’re evidently being evicted from the usual spot, how about the next one not having a gigantic hole to see the moon? It’s not like there’s a shortage of trees around here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeff murmurs, stroking his thumb over the back of Ace’s hand.

“How did you even end up picking a place like that in the first place?” Ace realizes, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Because I know you like looking at the stars,” Jeff says, smiling fondly. So many times, in camp or the trials, he’d caught the other staring up at the sky, and each time he’d wished he could join him. Ace falters from the confession, surprise clear on his features before his face morphs into a familiar smile.

“You’re such a moron,” Ace says, all the creases and laugh lines that Jeff adores visible from how wide his smile is. “A romantic moron, but a moron nonetheless.”

Ace leans in for another taste of his lips and this time he lingers, treasuring the moment. And this time, Jeff is certain he hears an “Ugh, gross” from a disgruntled Feng followed by a snicker from Yui, but the comments don’t bother him. He has everything he could hope for right here.