🍒 popdrop; inbox.

[childeishly]

—

CODE BY

"Not here, sorry, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I find the time."

Comments

Re: day 57, post game.

[childeishly]

H- Hah. [ he wheezes, growling as his hair is fisted and tugged. ] D- Do you want me to? Sure seems like y- you're interested in, in what I have to say.

Re: day 57, post game.

[circuitice]

Let's understand one thing. I hate you, and I-- ahh--

[ his train of thought interrupted when really, really just wants to put the harbinger down.

how embarrassing. ]

-- I have no interest in what you... have to say. It was... an offer.

[ despite, or maybe because of the biting cold, the warmth of childe's body is driving him insane as he thrusts into him ]

Re: day 57, post game.

[childeishly]

I... I'm calling bullshit, Snow. I think... I think you, hnf, [ he grunts, shuddering as he feels himself nearing the edge. snow's warmth is comforting in its own way, even if he's not taking any kind of care. ] And it's not like I understand, feelings are stupid, so hate me all you like, but I like you.

Re: day 57, post game.

[circuitice]

[ well. this isn't going to stand. because something snaps in him, and even if he feels distantly like he might regret this later...




oh well.

he stiffens when he feels himself cross over the edge.

and as he slumps, he forms another icicle in his hand and raises it ]

Well, that's a mistake.

[ and then he stabs him, straight in the neck. ]

Re: day 57, post game.

[childeishly]

[ childe laughs! it's plain to see that he got to him ( for better or for worse ) and because he's an asshole he. just. laughs. he'll probably regret this later, but for now he doesn't give even half a shit. the laughter is abruptly cut off when snow plunges the icicle into his throat, a sudden gurgle snubbing the sound and drowning it as childe's body spasms in the throws of death. blood spurts from the wound, staining the ice and water as his face pales and his eyes roll back into his head. eventually he stops moving altogether, blood still oozing out the wound as the last of his life drains. ]

Re: day 57, post game.

[circuitice]

[ well.

He feels nothing. Very much nothing.

He pries himself away from Childe’s corpse… and leaves him to melt into the water below. They’re even now… ]