Blackfeather Woods viva la vida

There was a purpose to his step as gangly limbs carried Sheogorath towards his brother's whereabouts. It had been long, too long, since he had given his ultimatum and he had not heard of @Damien again. Now, on the brink of revolution, seemed as good a time as any to make his point explicitely clear. He had gone without fulfilment for too long and while he enjoyed being in the driver's seat it just wasn't the same without the joy. Relmyna was tended to and left at the den he had made for her when she had first gotten hurt before he had set out to search for a fulfilment of a different kind.

The ghostly figure moved through the dark forest with purpose to his step, very clear in what and who he was looking for, his face coolly neutral — almost like the long-time faded away Cicero — as he followed the trail that would surely lead to his brother's location.

hope you have time <3

For you, always <3

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The amount of things revolving around Damien's head had grown exponentially ever since his memory was restored. It had been a gradual recovery, but with every piece of information that Damien got back, a thousand problems returned to his reality that he no longer had enough energy to tackle at once. One of those problems, and probably the one he'd been pushing back for the longest time, was the burning confusion for his brother's affections. He now remembered that they had, in fact, surpassed the boundaries of a simple brother-brother relationship, but Damien had never thought that it would chase him for so long. Damien knew now that his love for Cicero had always been greater than anything else he felt, but he also knew that the lust that he felt once was no longer present, and still there remained an attachment, a dependence, that Damien could not let go of. The fear of losing him was powerful.

He was caught off-guard yet again, stalked by the shadows that his brother knew so well how to control, and the only thing that Damien could do the moment he saw the reflection of those white and orange eyes staring back at him from the darkness was to stand like a stone in the middle of his path. Not a single ounce of breath escaped the dark prince's mouth for several seconds, not a muscle twitched, not a thought crossed his mind other than panic. The shadow monarch had grown scared of confronting his brother, of the reaction there could be for the decision made, and even worse, of not being able to get his way.

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There was a fear to his brother's face as he approached, and Sheogorath wondered what it would culminate into, this. While clever, Sheogorath was loathe to admit that he was not as good with emotions as Cicero, having had to sacrifice some to fully utilise cruelty without the burden of remorse that his counterpart carried. He wanted to get what he wanted and his patience was running thin. Altercation of some sort would follow, one way or another.

"Brother," spoke Sheogorath as he approached Damien with the same Cicero-esque, stoic expression on his face and reached out, intending to move so that he could reach for his brother's ear to nip it and nibble along his neck, should he allow it.

The rhythm of Damien's heartbeat raised with every step that his brother took towards him. He didn't want it, he didn't feel as comfortable in the spider's presence as he had in his youth, but as was to be expected Cicero's approach was confident and  immediate. His intentions were obvious, and it was confirmed by his attempt to reach out for Damien's ear without regard for personal space. For a moment Damien thought of those strange feelings in their youth, those forbidden encounters and the lengths he'd gone through to hide it. There had been a kind of passion there, a drive that Damien had enjoyed to some extent, but it had always felt so wrong. There was a voice, a little speaker between his ears trying to convince him that following Cicero's game would only end up in disaster. That voice's efforts had been effective. Damien pulled back, eluding his brother's approach in a silent statement. It had not been the first time he'd done it, in fact, Cicero's attempts to touch him were usually met by Damien's rejection; but this time it meant a completely different thing.

Adrenaline fiddled down his body, electrifying his hide and sending chills down his spine. His heartbeat spiked and accelerated and a knot tangled his throat. He didn't say a word, he didn't explain, he didn't breathe. He just kept pulling back. A step, another, Damien had in a matter of seconds put a good couple tails between himself and his brother, but never had he felt such anxiety about making a decision. He had become a coward, only Cicero had ever gotten him so low, but still the young prince hoped that his brother would accept his way and stay by his side.

There was a moment of decision between them — a moment in which Damien and Sheogorath both held the future of Damien in their hands. Except Damien was the only one that really cared for that part of his life, that part of his future, what others would think of him. Sheogorath cared little for anything but his own desires and he felt furious to find them not to be met. The steps taken away from him meant only one thing — "You know what the consequences will be, then, that would've been so easy to prevent," he said coldly. "I wonder what your dear sister will think of you when she is told." Sheogorath's mismatched eyes narrowed as he looked at Damien. He decided then that he would have to find his desires met elsewhere, and perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps wrecking Damien and finding his lusts sated somewhere else would be safer, too, for him to be allowed to stay in this body.

And there it was again. The panic rising, flooding him up to his throat and paralyzing him completely. Cicero had a knack for this, for manipulating him, for pulling his strings on Damien and simply getting what he wanted. He was truly a spider, a snake, perhaps the only one capable to live up to Mephala's standards...

This was, unfortunately for the Dark Master, not a game of physical strength. Cicero was smart enough to shield himself from anything that Damien could do to hurt his body, not to mention that there existed reasons to believe that his snake of his brother actually enjoyed physical pain. No, Damien couldn't win this game by force no matter how bad he wanted to pin him to the ground and make tell him to fuck off. This was a game of wit, of strategy, and although it wasn't his desire to play along Damien would never shy away from such.

He let out a drawn out snarl as Cicero suggested spilling the beans on Potema. It wasn't that Damien felt vulnerable (he did, though) but he would rather keep things under the rug, where they belonged, where they wouldn't hurt anyone's reputation or credibility. Don't you dare, he warned, feeling the heat rising, boiling his blood. He wouldn't admit his guilt, his shame, the angst, fear, insecurity... He wouldn't let it spill, yet he didn't know what he was doing.

The last thing I need is for you to betray me, and I bet you'd rather keep your head in place... he spoke before realizing he was saying it... To his own brother, to his only brother, and his eyes betrayed the shot of rush that ran down his body. It was done, it was said, and there were no signs of stopping. Would he do it? Would he really dispose of his brother in order to keep things secret?

"Don't I dare!" Sheogorath snapped derisively, his mismatched eyes ablaze all of a sudden as he stared straight into Damien's eyes. He had had enough of this, he was running out of patience and he wanted what he wanted. He cared for nothing but his own skin (a thing Cicero didn't share as much) and to be insulted so brought him much anger. He knew he could have Damien if he tried, but he wanted him to experience it — didn't want him to be dulled away like Cicero'd done to Xan. He wanted him to feel it, to live it, the full shame he would feel. To manipulate someone was so much more pleasing when it was done by giving them terrible choices rather than drugging them up.

But Damien seemed determined, and so was Sheogorath. "You have betrayed me enough by refusing to lay by my side, by refusing what you know we both want." Eyes narrowed as he took another step forward threateningly. "There are two options to stop me from telling our sister and everyone you know about this — and that is to kill me or fuck me. Don't put this on me, you know it's your own decision and it will be your own fault what happens next." Sheogorath played on the bluff that Damien wouldn't actually come and rip off Sheo's head; he knew that he still held his brother's love too much for that to happen.