Chapter 25 Zuko
zuko
. . .
“Can you please tat her name on my dick so I can officially fuck her with it?” I asked Dad as Raze and I sat in my room.
Dad called to check in, and the conversation, of course, turned to my feelings for Rune and how we had officially started dating.
Which was how this conversation had come up, much to his dismay.
“I really don’t want to,” Dad muttered after a long pause.
“But you have Mom’s name on yours,” I protested, hoping it didn’t come off whiny. He’d told me one night that it was how he finally won her over.
I wanted to fully win Rune over.
He gave me a long sigh. “Zuko, fuck. I—you have that enchanted tattoo needle I gave you last year, right? Tattoo your own dick.”
“Fuck, dude, tat me, too?” Raze’s pink eyes widened in excitement.
“Bet.” I grinned. “I can’t believe I forgot about that. Thanks, Dad.”
“And word of advice, son, make sure you’re hard first.”
“Shit, that’s easy.” I’d just think of drowning in Rune’s cum.
“Yeah.” A pause. “Good night, Zuko. I’ll tell your mom you’re doing good.”
“I am doing good,” I assured him before hanging up and going to grab the needle from the wooden box he’d given it to me in.
Raze and I sat on the floor before he blurted, “Before you touch that needle to your dick, do my arm, please?”
“Sure.” I rolled my eyes, scooting over to him with the needle. “What about your love life? You know plenty about mine.”
“I know far too much about yours. But me?” Raze shrugged. “I have never had one.”
I furrowed my brows. “You’re a virgin?”
“Yeah. Nobody’s ever made me feel the way I feel when killing,” he said with a disappointed sigh. “Maybe one day that’ll change, but for now, bringing the kiss of death brutally to horrible beings who deserve it works for me.”
“Okay, that’s a lot to unpack,” I muttered before pausing. “Wait, I thought you said your cum can throw someone into a five-minute orgasm, so if you’ve never…”
“Shut the fuck up.” Raze’s face turned totally red.
“Raze, oh my Fates. You didn’t!” I couldn’t hold back my laughter. I laughed so hard I had to hold my stomach.
“Who hasn’t come on their own face on accident before?” Raze asked defensively.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “And you gave yourself a five-minute orgasm because of it!”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s only happened that one time, and it’s not just my cum that does it. My actual venom does it, too.”
“All basilisk’s cum has aphrodisiac properties, but I’ve never heard of a basilisk’s venom or cum being that intense,” I chuckled.
“Zuko!” he groaned.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said, the laugh still ghosting on my lips as I shifted the grip on the needle.
It hummed in my hand faintly, a low, eager vibration that always set my teeth on edge. It was an enchanted fae needle, so it wanted blood almost as much as Raze and I did.
“Alright, talk to me. What do you want on your death sleeve?” I gestured for his arm.
He rested his forearm on his knee, grinning as he grabbed something out of his pocket and showed it to me. It was a fae numeral ball in his palm. It shimmered faintly, numbers crawling across its surface. “One to eight,” he said. “Fate picks the order.”
“Ah, so instead of dice, you want a fae numeral ball within your hourglass?”
“Nah. I don’t need an hourglass to count down since mine’s a death game instead of a torture game. Just the ball, but make it big on my bicep,” he told me, and I nodded.
“No problem.”
The ball clicked in his palm before glowing faintly, then he showed me the number one glowing on it.
“Number one. Let’s do a fatal glass lung potion.
It was fun to play with. It makes anyone’s breaths turn into fine glass shards.
The victim inhales once and drowns on their own blood.
” He grinned. “I’ll have that one right here—” He tapped the inside of his bicep.
“On it.” I tatted the fae numeral ball on his bicep first, feeling the buzz as the magic bit into his skin. It pushed the ink into his skin. I drew the glass lung potion below it.
I wasn’t as good as Dad was, but I wasn’t horrible. Besides, I kind of enjoyed it.
“What’s next?”
He rolled the ball again, and the number two popped up.
“Spine darts,” he murmured fondly, pointing under the potion.
“I remove a few vertebrae, stitch their back up, sharpen the bones into darts, and make them stand as I throw the darts at their joints. Their knees, shoulders, elbows, you know. It makes them dance until they finally collapse. Then, I throw the final dart in their brain, through their eye.”
“Right,” I muttered, pressing the enchanted needle to his skin again. It hissed softly as the magic set in. I glanced at him as I finished, arching a brow. “Dude, are you…good? You sound like one of my mentors.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked with a chuckle. “Who’s your mentors?”
“My dad, of course, but I mean Damien Clearwater. They’re the Supernatural Council’s best two torturers.” I tilted my head. “Damien’s more creative with death and torture, so that’s why you remind me of him with all of your games of death.”
“No shit? He’s a legend,” Raze muttered, eyes going wide. “I am so fucking inspired by his work.”
“Oh, I can tell,” I told him honestly.
We kept going, number after number—the hacky sack of teeth, the needle game, the enchanted deathball, the organ juggle, and the rib cage pop.
Seriously, his style reminded me so much of Damien’s.
Each time, Raze described the tattoos in a voice that was too calm for the kind of nightmare imagery he painted for me.
I just kept working, lines flowing from the needle as the hum of the magic synced with my pulse.
By the time I reached the “spine pull,” his grin was stretched into something I could only call peaceful.
I sat back, wiping the needle tip, and gave him a long look.
“Done,” I said. “Your sleeve looks fucking awesome. But also? You’re terrifying.”
He just smirked, staring at the black ink that still shimmered with magic. “That’s the entire point. Besides, why kill without a little flair?”
“Valid reason.” I shrugged, pulling my dick out.
Raze groaned, his eyes shooting toward the ceiling. “You’re seriously doing that now? And how many fucking piercings do you have?”
“Well, yeah.” I grinned at him. “I have eight, of course. Be my emotional support, okay? She’s going to fucking love this.”
“Never thought about wanting a needle anywhere near my dick, but if I ever meet my mate, I’ll let you tat her name on mine,” Raze told me, his eyes glued upward. “Solidarity or whatever.”
“Aw, Raze, you’re gonna let me touch your dick?” I teased.
He groaned. “Actually, I’ll come borrow your needle and do it myself.”
“Fuck yeah.” I chuckled. “Just don’t fuck her until her name’s on it.”
“Of course,” he said like that was obvious.
Just as I was wondering how to make myself hard, Rune’s whimpers of pleasure and moans hit my ears from the walls.
My cock thickened easily, and I started inking her name into my shaft.
“How do you feel about Slater fucking her first?” Raze asked as Rune moaned Slater’s name.
I tilted my head, finishing the R beautifully before moving onto the U. My head weeped for her as I let out a low chuckle. “I think it’s hot as fuck. So what if he’s fucking her first? We’re both her mates, and we’ll be with her forever.”
“So, you really think she’s your mate?” he wondered, nothing but curiosity in his tone.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Can’t really explain why, but I do.”
“Slater!” Rune cried out, and I heard Slater’s moans mingle with hers.
My dick throbbed with need, and the only thing that kept me from coming was the pain of me scripting the N and E of her name.
“Fuck. Slater beat me to it, but I’m not really shocked by that.” I finished up her name and grinned.
Every time I saw my cock, I’d see her name scripted beautifully on it.
I fucking loved it, and I couldn’t wait to show her.