blood in the water
FIC INFORMATION
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Relationship: Bergan/Ghis
Character: Bergan, Ghis
Additional Tags: Snuff, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Sparring, ok so i know it says snuff but trust me here, if anyone would get off on his own death its judge absolute raging berserker bergan, Temporary Character Death, Necrophilia, KindaLanguage: English
Published: 27/11/2022
Words: 3,796
Chapters: 1/1
"If I let you have this victory, would you-" he swallowed, eyes flitting down to Ghis' still-burgeoning erection, then back up to his lips and then finally his eyes, "would you do it again?"Notes
"What, trounce you? Don't be ridicu-"
"No. Kill me." Bergan's face was serious, his eyes alight with lust. He- he actually meant it. "Maybe you could do it while you fuck me. I think we'd both enjoy that."
not exactly the way I intended to introduce my ghisbergan brainrot to this tiny fandom, but here i am anyway! *jazz hands*
See the end of the work for more notes
Ever since he had the implantation surgery, Bergan had felt... stronger. Much stronger, more vital and with such strength that it nearly burst from his chest at the most inopportune moments. That wasn't the hardest part about adjusting to post-surgery life though, oh no. The award for that went directly to trying to hold back his strength. Never something Bergan had been particularly au fait with even before the nethicite, but now? It was like the implants made him feral - more feral than usual, anyway. Five times he'd destroyed training rooms in the palace. Ten times he'd destroyed every training dummy in those rooms and more.
The scourge of the servants, apparently, but by the end of it all, he could at least control his strength enough that he could move on to practising with actual living beings without accidentally tearing out their throats or quite literally punching their faces in. No matter how much he might want to...
He glanced up at Ghis while wrapping his hands with cloth, for better grip. Ghis, of course, just happened to be the only other Judge Magister around in Archades at the time for him to practise with. And, well, if Bergan was completely honest with himself, the only one he could really stand to be around for any length of time, no matter how much they clashed, or how much their politics may differ.
Not that he would ever let that thought see the light of day, and especially not within Ghis' hearing - he'd never hear the end of it. It was bad enough that the man's smirks already made him want to punch his lights out, if he got to gloat as well, there was no guarantee that Bergan wouldn't wring his neck for real.
"Must you do that, every time we spar? Surely you can hold your own swords without needing scraps of fabric around your hands." Ghis raised an eyebrow, cocking his head at Bergan as he unsheathed his own weapons.
Flashy golden things they were, much like his armour, and Bergan couldn't hold back his own sneer. "Perhaps you ought to try it, you might be more effective in combat that way."
"Pff. Hardly." Ghis levelled his sword at Bergan, looking down his nose as he looked down the blade at him. "What is it to be, then? No magick as usual, or are you finally prepared to lose?"
Bergan snorted. He pulled both his swords from their place on his hips and flexed his arms, testing their heft. They felt lighter, now, which had been a little adjustment in itself, and was the real reason for wrapping his hands.
"Use magick if you must, we both know you cannot win without it." He levelled a look at Ghis, then lunged at him, both swords above his head in a cross. They fell hard and heavy, but Ghis, for all his pomposity and advanced age over Bergan, had learned to move. It had taken many of these sessions, but learn it he had, and Bergan had to dance backwards and to the side to avoid a sweep from his bladed fan.
Though it was more a focus for his magicks, the thing was still sharp, and Ghis delighted in whetting its appetite on Bergan's flesh.
Bergan whipped his longer sword round, aiming for Ghis' legs, when a gust of wind blew him backwards again, sending him stumbling. He snarled a grin up at Ghis. "Magicks it is, then."
Ghis smirked down at him, then wafted his fan once more and chased the breeze with a bracing shock of lightning, which just seared the front of Bergan's boot. "Magicks it is then," he sneered. Let's see how well your brute strength can keep up."
Before Ghis had finished his sentence, Bergan bulled forward, head down and blades behind him. He collided with Ghis bodily and they both went over. Ghis had the worst of it, of course - being hit by the full weight of Bergan's nethicite-augmented body had been likened by Doctor Cid to being hit by a rogue behemoth, and from the sound of Ghis' breath whooshing from his chest, that estimation wasn't far wrong.
"What have you got in those ridiculous muscles of yours, rocks?" Ghis attempted to headbutt Bergan in the face, but couldn't get the momentum.
"Wouldn't you like to know." Bergan smirked nastily down at him, then brought the shorter of his blades up and pressed it against Ghis' throat. "You're like a turtle down here, just waiting to be picked off by a passing predator. Pathetic."
Ghis laughed in his face, lips twisting in a sneer. "And I suppose you think of yourself as that predator, do you? You're nothing but a rabid dog, Bergan. Good for nothing but charging ruffians and cutting them down faster than they can cut you down."
Bergan's brow creased and he bared his teeth in a snarl, bringing his face close to Ghis', steadfastly ignoring the scent of that ridiculous pomade he used. "And you're nothing but a pompous little bureaucrat, too spoiled and weak to do anything but push papers around."
There was a sharp movement below him as Ghis, in a moment of rare celerity, twisted his blade and jerked it upwards, bringing a veil of magick with it that cast a darkness across Bergan's vision and an unnatural shackle about his body.
He reared back with a sharp intake of breath, and before he knew it, Ghis had slid out from underneath him and, with one planted, heavy boot at his back, knocked him clean over onto his face.
He couldn't move. It was like being held down on Doctor Cid's operating table all over again, strapped in with unyielding metal bands across his whole body, only this time he couldn't see a thing to boot.
"You're a fucking coward!" he snarled into the thickly matted training floor.
Ghis laughed above him, boot still planted firmly in his back. "Yes yes, you've said. My my Bergan, you get less imaginative as the days go by."
One hand curled around the nape of his neck and Ghis squeezed, digging his fingernails in viciously. "I'm a coward, and a spineless little bureaucratic paper pusher. What else?" He let go of Bergan's neck, stepped to the side and kicked him in the shoulder hard enough to tip him onto his back.
"Ah yes." Ghis stood over Bergan, feet either side of his waist, then sunk to his knees so he could lean in close. "Currently victorious. How could I forget." He sneered, then took hold of Bergan's neck once more, tipping it up and back and digging his fingernails in again.
The harsh pressure compressed Bergan's windpipe, and he felt the breath being dragged from him even as his hips jerked, blood rushing downwards. If only he could see! It was maddening, able only to imagine Ghis' face, that twisted, gorgeous sneer in all its glory.
"You may hold my magicks in contempt, Bergan, but you know you'd never be a match for me if we fought on equal footing." His fingernails dug in harder. Though Ghis' hand was not large enough to fully encircle his neck, he didn't need it to be. The windpipe was enough to cut off Bergan's air supply, and even as thick and muscled as his neck was, Ghis had such a grip on him that could not be denied.
If he could see, Bergan knew his vision would be blacking out, white specks floating across his vision as his dick grew harder. He could feel that, without a shadow of a doubt.
And then, his hip twitched. A tiny movement, but one he could control. As his breath faded further, his vision fuzzed, eyes rolling back in his head. With his last shred of strength before he blacked out, Bergan lunged, forcing himself upwards and against Ghis' grip with a sharp twist.
He felt Ghis' hard-on as their hips collided, and then there was a crack. A quiet, distant crack, a lightning bolt of pain down his spine worse than anything he'd ever felt in his life, chased by blinding, searing pleasure.
Blackness again, and silence this time. His hips jerked in the aftermath, wringing pleasure from his lifeless body until he was empty.
Ghis let him go as though he'd been stung, and Bergan fell back to the floor, loose and completely lifeless, a wet stain seeping through his trousers and his hard-on still very much obvious.
"Bergan?" His voice almost bordered on hysterical - not that Ghis would ever become hysterical about Bergan dying, but it was awfully inconvenient and not to mention rude of him to do so when they were just on the cusp of enjoying a good fuck.
"This had better not be some sort of sick joke." Ghis leaned over, placed two fingers against Bergan's neck, where a pulse should beat. Nothing. Nothing but the sick angle of his spine and what was possibly a hint of creamy white gleaming through the flesh.
As if conjured by his fingers and words, Bergan twitched. Ghis' hand flew away from him, and he leaned back, watching with a wary eye as the obviously broken skin and bone began to knit together.
There was a rush of sickening Mist in the air, buffeting Ghis as it all flooded into Bergan, as though he were a focus for it. It felt... greasy, somehow. Nothing like the usual Mist Ghis was so adept at channelling: no, this was something entirely foreign.
He watched in horror as Bergan's neck cracked back into place, as the thick muscle knitted back together, blanketed over by skin, and then his eyes snapped open as a whoosh of air filled his lungs.
His hand was a vice grip on Ghis' wrist, and his face was split in a beatific grin most unlike the usual nasty twist that graced his lips.
"That," Bergan said, voice hoarse, "was amazing."
Ghis laughed, voice high-pitched. "Of course a brute like you would get off on your own death. You're disgusting."
"You loved it."
"Did I? News to me." Ghis felt his heartbeat slow, finally, and he clasped his free hand over Bergan's at his wrist. "Now. Would you care to enlighten me about how you can possibly come back from the dead?"
"Can't. I signed a contract." Bergan's words were slurred, as though he'd used up too much of his own Mist in casting a high level spell.
Ghis sighed, deeply. "You do realise, though." He tapped his chin. "This means I won. And without magicks, too."
"That's a technicality!"
"What was it you said earlier? Ah yes, paper pushing bureaucrat. I do believe technicalities are my speciality."
Bergan laughed, but didn't let up his hold on Ghis' wrist. "If I let you have this victory, would you-" he swallowed, eyes flitting down to Ghis' still-burgeoning erection, then back up to his lips and then finally his eyes, "would you do it again?"
"What, trounce you? Don't be ridicu-"
"No. Kill me." Bergan's face was serious, his eyes alight with lust. He- he actually meant it. "Maybe you could do it while you fuck me. I think we'd both enjoy that." His eyes slid back down to Ghis' erection, and he followed his gaze with his hand, roughly palming the outside of his trousers.
Ghis swallowed. By all the gods. And yet, the idea held more than a little interest. Would Bergan's arse tighten around his cock, as he breathed his last at Ghis' hands? Would he spill his seed once again, from the strange ecstasy of it?
"Fine."
- - -
When the time came, Ghis found himself oddly nervous. He fretted about whether he had the strength to break Bergan's neck alone, about whether it would feel good for either of them, and most of all, he fretted about if he would actually come back this time, or whether it was a fluke, or a one-time happening only.
The fretting soon ground to a halt, though, as Bergan entered his quarters like a whirlwind, pulling off his woollen coat and throwing it over the tall chair at Ghis' desk. He looked... alight with anticipation, his wide grin taking on a more manic air as he moved in close to where Ghis had been pacing a hole in the plush rug in front of his fireplace.
"I see you're happy to see me," Ghis said, deadpan, as Bergan hustled in close and wrapped both arms around his waist.
"I've been dreaming about this," he said, ducking his head to bite at Ghis' bottom lip.
"It's been but two days." Ghis couldn't quell the intake of breath though, as Bergan claimed his mouth for a rough, hungry kiss. He twined both of his arms around Bergan's neck, making shameful little noises into his mouth.
"Two long days, yes." Bergan's voice was rough, and Ghis could feel his erection through his trousers. Already!
"Have you given thought to..." Ghis cleared his throat. Though they dealt in death as a somewhat regular occurrence, discussing it so baldly felt distasteful. "To how you want this to go?"
"Some. Have you?" Bergan smirked.
A deep sigh. "Yes." Ghis felt his cheeks colour, just a touch. "If you are amenable, perhaps you'd like me to take you?"
"Remembering your victory, are you?"
"I was not fucking you, then!"
"Mm, no, you're right. Thinking about how tight I'll be, when you wring my neck, I'll bet."
Ghis' eyes widened, and he almost took a step back before he marshalled himself. "Yes."
"Good." Bergan's eyes did that irritatingly handsome crinkle at their corners as his smirk took on a hungrier air. "I'd thought about that too. Your cock inside me."
"Have you?" Gods, there went the blood rushing straight to his cock. "And have you also thought about... ways you might like to die?"
Bergan laughed. "Of course. You know what I am, Ghis. Though I'm not sure you have the strength for it. Perhaps t'would be safer for you to press a pillow into my face as I thrash beneath you, gasping for air."
Oh, now there was a pretty thought. All the strength slowly sapping from that huge body, so replete with muscle and sheer brawn. But there was insult couched within, and Ghis wouldn't take it.
"I think you'll find me strong enough for this." The coldness of his tone belied the heat rushing through his veins, and he stepped closer still, pressing both hands against Bergan's chest. "Or perhaps I should bring my magicks to bear once more and freeze the very air in your lungs. I wonder if I could weave such an Immobilise that your blood would cease to flow, or the oxygen would leave your brain deprived, unable even to gasp."
Bergan looked down at him, licking his lips. "Would I still... get hard. With that last one?"
"I don't know. We'd have to experiment." Ghis smirked nastily up at him, but the idea was... appealing. Very appealing indeed. "But first, why don't we settle for something a little more your style. Pure, clean brutality." He punctuated each of the last with a hard shove, until Bergan was backed up against a side table.
"How do you want me, then? On my hands and knees?"
Ghis sucked air through his teeth as he considered the idea of Bergan's broad, scarred back laid out in front of him while he took his arse. But no. "Not quite what I had in mind. I want to see you."
Bergan's eyes lidded and he blinked slowly. "Mm, alright. On my back, then?"
"On the desk. I want to look in your eyes as the life drains from them." There, he wouldn't have to try to hold up Bergan's ridiculous bulk, it was sturdy enough to hold him without breaking a beautiful antique, and it would give him a perfect, up-close vantage point to allow him to see everything, every little detail. There had to be some trick to it, and he would find out what it was. But first: pleasure.
A hand snaked down between them, and Bergan palmed at Ghis' cock through his trousers. "I see you're not just humouring me."
"Have you ever known me to humour someone? Please."
"Hah." Bergan pushed off the side table with a surge of strength and speed the likes of which Ghis had never seen, and before he knew it, he'd manoeuvred them both to the desk, knocked the heavy chair out of the way and began to work on Ghis' silken shirt.
He was glad that he'd worn a loose shirt with no buttons that could be torn off, because Bergan was as brutal in undressing him as he was in every other aspect of his life. The shirt came over his head and got tossed aside, along with Bergan's own tunic, and then he pulled open the laces of both their trousers and shoved them down along with both pairs of underthings like they'd insulted him with their very presence.
"Better," he sighed, as he took hold of both their cocks with one big, weapon-calloused hand.
Ghis allowed it, if only because it felt good. Better than it had any right to be from a brute such as Bergan. But only for so long. "I am," he breathed, "beginning to grow impatient. I don't suppose you thought to prepare yourself already?"
Bergan smirked at him, both eyes lidded as he continued to stroke their cocks. "Yes, as it happens." He hitched himself onto the desk and spread both his thighs apart, tugging Ghis in close enough and tilting his hips so that his cock rubbed against the skin between balls and hole, and by the gods it felt good.
Bergan hadn't been exaggerating: his arse was slick and ready, and Ghis knew that he must have spent some time stretching himself open, perhaps walked around that morning with a large plug nestled deep inside. A thought he would give much consideration to later.
For now, however, it was the work of a moment to breach it, to push inside as deep as he could, ‘til he was pressed up against Bergan, those heavily-muscled thighs wrapping about his waist to keep him right where he was.
Ghis leaned against Bergan's broad chest a moment, breathing through the pressure and heat as he adjusted, inhaling deep of Bergan's scent, enjoying the softness of the hair at his chest, the hitch of his breath as Ghis rolled his hips, just a little, just enough to test his sensitivity.
Thus orientated, Ghis leaned away enough that he could get a hand on Bergan's hip, dig his thumbnail in as he began to thrust in earnest. He would not give away his method just yet, would not give Bergan the gift of knowing how he would die this time. For now, he would just... enjoy himself.
Bergan slid a hand around Ghis' neck, his head falling back and other hand grabbing for purchase on the desk as he groaned. His hips raised, back arching to give Ghis better access, and Ghis took it; increasing his strength of his thrusts until he was slamming into Bergan again and again.
"H-how are you going to do it?" Bergan's eyes found Ghis' again, his hand cradling the back of Ghis' head, "won't you tell me?"
Ghis snapped his hips again, rolled them slowly and then snapped back inside. "No," he managed, though he could feel the blood rising in his cheeks, pinking with the pleasure and the exertion. "Trust me."
To back up his words, he took hold of Bergan's cock and gripped it hard at the base, then began to stroke it in time with his movements. "Or perhaps," he breathed, "you can't come until I kill you. Is that it?"
Bergan growled down at him, bared his teeth like the animal he was.
"As I thought." Ghis dragged his nails down the underside of Bergan's leaking cock, smirking as he felt Bergan's hips jump in response, another growl drawn from his lips. "Are you getting close?"
"Not close enough," Bergan ground out, but he hissed as Ghis dug his nails in harder. "What are you doing? Ah!"
Ghis bent closer, ducking his head to take one of Bergan's nipples in his mouth. He suckled on it, teasing with his tongue until it perked and hardened, then bit down savagely, purring with delight as Bergan jerked again, his arse clenching around Ghis' dick in the most satisfying way.
He slid his other hand up Bergan's chest, noting the scars there as his fingertips grazed them, then came to rest at his collarbone. He could feel the thump of blood there, then even harder as he settled his fingers just under Bergan's jaw, thumb pressed into the other side of his neck.
Before Bergan had chance to say anything, Ghis applied pressure, hard. He knew it would take but four minutes to kill a man through strangulation - oh the things he now knew about killing a man in intimate ways - even one as strong as Bergan.
Their eyes met, and Ghis didn't cease his movements; still driving into Bergan's arse even as he brought up his other hand to join the first, adding yet more pressure to Bergan's throat.
He felt a change as Bergan's body realised what was going to happen. He felt it as his throat began to shiver, his body trembling and back arching as Ghis wrung the very breath from his lungs.
Bergan's hips jerked and his mouth fell open, trying for some final gasps of air even as Ghis felt him clench around his cock, spilling his seed between their bodies as the life left his eyes.
Ghis couldn't help but groan. The sheer power of it was heady enough without the knowledge that somehow Bergan enjoyed this. Ghis' hips jerked and he felt the rush of orgasm crash over him, his own seed pumping into Bergan's lifeless body as Ghis buried his face into his chest.
His legs trembled and Ghis felt no shame about leaning against Bergan, catching his breath. A moment passed, and he felt Bergan's heart shudder back into motion, the first thump of it loud against Ghis' face.
He looked up, fingers tracing the marks he'd left behind.
"Told you you'd enjoy it." Bergan's words were a croak, and even though he was barely audible, Ghis could still hear the smugness dripping from them.
"Insufferable." Ghis applied a little pressure against the marks, watching as they faded before his very eyes. "I will find out how you're doing this. You'll not keep it from me for long."
"Is that a threat?"
Ghis smirked. "Next time, I'll bring a knife."
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