#literally ive had this drawing done for three hours and ive just been trying to shade this asshole -__- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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Dying Starlight

A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol

(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious.

Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours.

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.

My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib.

The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops.

I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper.

Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest.

“Mare told me about you.”

The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross.

I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.”

His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.”

That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster.

“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.”

He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.”

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.”

I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.”

“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.”

His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”

The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.”

His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”

Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless.

“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.

I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.”

My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.”

I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.”

“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.”

His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.”

I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.”

“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling.

I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.”

The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.”

He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries.

Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.”

There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”

“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.”

He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching.

#red queen #red queen x reader #maven #maven calore #maven calore x reader #maven calore imagine #red queen imagine #mare barrow #cal calore #bookboyfriend #book boyfriend x reader

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tsurugis · 3 years ago

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i had my surgery last thursday!

he went ahead with a plan of putting me under and marking and prepping everything to do the thyroidectomy and full bilateral neck dissection, but first taking out the biggest lymph node and sending it to pathology. while they were doing that he took my whole thyroid out and based on those results he would either leave the neck dissection or continue. of course it came back malignant so he took fuckin eeeeverything out haha

woke up puking all over myself and having violent tremors and vaguely remember hearing a nurse trying to convince the other people waking up in that room that i wasn't fucking dying jfhfjgj

apparently I've had the most severe magnesium deficiency my surgeon has seen in over 30 years of practice lmaoooo and I've had it for a long time so i gotta figure out what thats all about and see a gi for probable absorption problems

my husband!!! is the sweetest!! most caring!! fucker ever!!!!!! really truly i love him so much he has supported me through this and everything so much it blows my mind anyone could ever love and care for me like this. and he has done such a consistent job of showing it that i don't panic and worry about him wanting to leave me for all this cancer crap and for the fact that now i look like a fucking toad with its head cut off and stapled back on lmaoooo

was in the hospital for two nights three days and not getting home until about midnight cause my iv spot lost its shit at the last minute and decided enough magnesium in the drip there halfway through my last bag it hurt like a biiiitch so we had to start a new iv but ultrasound guided because they had been drawing blood to test magnesium every four fucki g hours for the 2 nights and three days like even all night lolll and i was running out of good veins

anyways. got my drains out on monday which. were stuck as hell and they were really long and finally my surgeon had to come back in where the nurses were like wheh its stucck he just grabbed and braced himself and just jerked them out violently no hesitation on both sides i am so goddamn traumatized lolllllll holy shit it gave hard rip the skin borrowing parasite horror creature out of your throat before in goes deep vibes fukccckckkckc

staples out on the 28th and everything looks good just. huge ugly stapled ear to collar bone to ear line and worst of all the lymphedema happening under the chin and jaw is so bad still and may take 3 to 6 months to go down or it could just get. worse actually and i will probably struggle with it forever

gotta take hormone replacement every morning for the rest of my life. gotta get bloodwork done frequently for the rest of my life to monitor magnesium, calcium and vitamin d and the thyroid hormone

but i am so insanely relieved i had an incredible experienced and passionate surgeon did an impressively beautiful job avoiding damaging any of the important nerves and parathyroid glands etc so no major complications or even really minor ones as far as nerve stuff goes i am so so grateful. that could have gone way different but he did an awesome job and i also trust he more likely got it all, because pathology came back monday and the fucking cancer was all over both sides of my thyroid and in at least ten lymph nodes all over !!

i literally kept saying i hate being right when i was waking up from surgery cause i really had like just a knowing and sensing that was the case, so i was very prepared, even from the "oh honey most of these are benign don't worry about cancer" stage pfffff

so i do gotta also take the radioactive iodine pill and go through that drama to make sure we got everything but otherwise i feel the worst is probably over

#personal crap

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babybatscreationsv2 · 4 years ago

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Spider-Verse: Predators ch24

Marvel | Starker

Peter Parker is barely keeping it together. Dealing with Gwen Stacy's death, Harry Osborn going MIA, and MJ refusing to take his calls, has the guy feeling seriously run down. Now to top it off, his uncle Ben is facing serious prison time. Fortunately or unfortunately, New York's own Kingpin of Crime, Tony Stark, has offered him a deal to save his uncle. On a positive note, this Kingpin guy is kind of hot. Is it wrong to sleep with a murderous criminal?

Rating: Explicit

Read it on Ao3

The lab was in shambles. Lights hung from the ceiling, bits of metal and glass littered the floor. It was impossible to safely navigate the place without his suit. Even Tony wore his fancy new nanobot tech as he investigated the damage. On a normal day, Peter would be babbling and investigating the swarm of intelligent minibots that covered the man's body, but now he sat, watching the crack in the glass start to grow.

“How long... do you think?” Peter asked.

Tony swiped a hand through his hair. “A few hours as best. Once the glass breaks-”

“I know. We can't keep him in stasis without the chamber. You really don't have another one?”

“I'm sorry, Pete. That alien freak broke everything. There were three others, but they're all broken.There's one we might be able to repair, but I don't think it will be in time.” Broken glass crunched over his feet as he left the tech he was fiddling with to come stand behind Peter. His large metal hands covered his shoulders. “What's your plan when it does break?”

“I don't know,” Peter sighed. “I don't know, Tony...”

Tony kissed the top of his head. “I'm here with you, baby.”

Yes, Peter felt warmer, safer to hear it. He even let his eyes close for a moment and pretend none of this had happened. The problem was that Tony couldn't protect him from this. When the stasis chamber that was containing the half formed Lizard broke, Harry's transformation would begin again. He would be left mindless and destructive. And there was no cure. Tony had been trying for months to find one and never did. They could sedate him, keep him tranquilized, but would it work? There were no guarantees.

“Let's fix it. The other chamber.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed. Peter was admittedly surprised. He expected the man to remind him how much work it would take and how much time and how little time they had. He had expected Tony to insist on putting a bullet in Harry's face the minute they realized that the glass was breaking. Peter had changed something in him after all. He cared a little bit more. Or maybe he just cared about Peter.

They got to work. Half of their time was spent by Tony explaining to him what every little part was for. Peter knew machines well enough, but he wasn't the genius who built his own stasis chamber and there was a lot to learn. More time was spent teaching Peter what to do before they could do anything, than Peter would have liked. After a few hours, he understood well enough what everything was and they settled into a rhythm in their repairs. Most of Peter's work was done at the 3D-printer while Tony fiddled with the machine, but it was a system that worked well enough.

Peter was repairing a broken wire when Tony put down the tools in his hands. His head tilted up toward the ceiling and he sighed.

“What is it?”

“We should just let him out,” he said, looking away at the wall.

“What?” Peter stared. He couldn't be serious. Let the Lizard out?

Tony looked at him. “Murdock wants his blood. You heard him, right? He wanted his alien pal to get the blood from the cooler, but they didn't get it. There's not a single bag or vial missing. If we turn your lizard friend loose then Matt will go after him.”

“We can't do that! He could kill someone.”

“And Matt could kill you! Or your aunt for that matter. I don't know if you've noticed this, but Matthew is a literal fucking ninja. If he wants to slip into Aunty May's house while you're not around, I can't promise you that my people will notice.”

Peter shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the wall. “Then I'll go home. Until we get him. I should have been home.”

Tony turned his head away and Peter knew that he'd hurt him. It was the obvious thing to do, but Tony could be surprisingly fragile. He needed Peter close. If he stopped coming to the tower it could damage their relationship. He couldn't leave May to die either way. He'd do a lot of things for Tony, but not that. Maybe he'd been naive to think that she was safe all this time.

His spider sense flared up at the back of his neck. There was someone else in the lab. Peter turned, watching, listening. He raised his arm, ready to fire and Tony followed suit. Then a woman entered the room.

Peter recognized her blonde hair and glasses. Betrayal cut at him. He had sort of thought they were allies. Elsa held her hands up in innocence.

“I know you're mad. I get it, but I think we can help you.” Her eyes wandered to Harry, half covered in scales, in his cracked containment chamber.

“Is my security team sleeping? How did you get in here?” Tony said.

“We're good at getting into places we're not supposed to be.”

“Oh yeah? Who's we?” Tony asked. Before Peter could explain, there was Venom rising in a goopy, snake-like form from Elsa's shoulder. “Alright, explain yourself.”

“Murdock betrayed us, too. He helped us once, because he hoped that we would owe him. Except that it didn't go like he planned.”

“You're not making a great case for yourself,” Peter said.

“Yeah, maybe get to the part where we care,” Tony added.

Elsa sighed. “Men,” she huffed. “My other isn't stable. Never was. I created it, but things happened, we bonded too soon. I shouldn't have taken it out of containment until it was ready. Long story short, I needed something to stabilize it. After months of research, my work suggested that something like Spiderman wasn't so different from my symbiote. In theory anyway. I don't know how he found out, but Murdock came. He said that he could get me a sample of Spiderman's blood. If I were willing to kill Spiderman for him.”

Peter heard the whir of Tony's repulsor charging. “Please wait,” Elsa sighed. “You'll only piss them off and we didn't come here to kill you.”

Tony let the charge die, but he kept his arm raised.

“Anyway,” she began again. “He got me the blood and it helped, for a while. Spiderman's blood stabilized Venom and gave them new abilities as well. We were stronger than ever. And then the bond started to break. We got sick.I realized that something in your blood was breaking down our cells. You might have spider-like abilities, but you're not actually a man bonded to a spider. You're still made of human parts. We aren't.We're an amalgamation of two different creatures. Like the Lizard. We need to know what keeps the Lizard's form stable once it bonds to a human body.”

Tony whistled. “That was a lot. You think that up on the cab ride over?”

“It's true!” Elsa shouted. Venom growled.

“Eat him,”it hissed.

“Hush, love,” she said. “Please, Mr. Stark.”

“What is it you want?” Peter asked. He finally lowered his arm and took a step forward hoping to resolve the tension before another fight broke out. All it would take was another hard hit and the glass protecting Harry would shatter. They'd have a whole host of other problems.

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself. Venom nuzzled into her hair. “If we allow Venom to bond with this lizard boy, I'm almost certain that Venom will be able to separate the lizard parts from the human parts and bond with them. We've been practicing. It's possible that it won't work, but if Venom can bond with the Lizard and draw it out from the boy and carry it over in to me it will save the boy from the Lizard and possibly give us a way to stabilize our bond.”

“If that's even possible, it makes sense... Sorta.” Peter shrugged.

Tony sighed. “It's your boyfriend.Your call.”

Peter shot a glare over his shoulder. Then he crossed the dirty floor and he looked at Harry sleeping in his goop. Maybe they could fix the other chamber, maybe they could sedate him if the glass broke too soon, maybe they could eventually engineer a cure, but how long would Harry stay this way? He could wake up an old man. His heart ached. He'd done so much to hurt him already. Maybe he could save him. At least from this. From the first big mistake Spiderman ever made. And maybe he could finally be free of the Lizard himself.

“We'll try it. What are the odds this hurts Harry if it doesn't work?”

Elsa shrugged. “I'm sorry, but no one has ever done anything like this before. He could reject Venom immediately. Venom could make a mistake and separate the wrong cells.The Lizard could do any number of unpredictable things. There's no way of knowing.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “For what it's worth, I know that my other will do everything possible. We have a stake in this, too.”

If she were telling the truth, she would die if this didn't work. Not just Harry. This could easily go from a cure to a disaster. If they didn't anything try at all, Elsa would still die. Despite having destroyed Tony's lab, she seemed like a decent person who just wanted to live with the slime monster she loved.

“Please,Spiderman,” Venom rumbled.

Peter nodded. “Okay. Let's give it a shot.”

Elsa helped Peter clean off a cot for Harry while Tony went to his computer. It started draining the goop from the chamber. Then they could remove the IV and all the sensors and pull him out. They might not have long before the sedation wore off once the IV was out.

“Do you think we should keep him sedated when we pull him out?” Pete wondered. “He could take someone's head off.”

“It could put Venom out, too,” Elsa frowned. “We'll just have to be careful.”

“I have something that might help, but it won't work forever,” Tony said. He went to the storage along the wall. Half of the cupboards were smashed, but one that was intact unlocked at Tony's touched. “I didn't make them big enough to fit a lizard man, but they'll hold him until he'd fully transformed.” He held up a pair of dense metal handcuffs.

“If all goes to plan, he never will,”Elsa said.

Peter sighed. “Nothing in my life goes to plan.” Still, he pulled open the door and caught Harry as he slipped out. Tony grabbed his legs and together they moved hin onto a cot. Harry groaned in his sleep.

“Clock's ticking,” Tony cautioned.

Elsa stepped up to the bedside. Venom stretched, becoming a long, writhing, stream of goo that moved from Elsa into Harry. The goop seemed to absorb through his skin, disappearing without a trace. Elsa gave a huff of breath. Nothing seemed to change with Harry, but Elsa was visibly anxious. Her shoulders twitched and her eyes were locked on to the spot in Harry's chest when Venom had disappeared to.

“How long do you think?” Peter asked.

She didn't move, didn't look away. “We practiced on rats mostly. It took a few hours. Could be days given the size and complexity of a human/lizard hybrid. And they'll be taking the most possible care.”

Tony eyed the room around them. Peter remembered just how badly it was all falling apart. It was a miracle the building overhead didn't sink down into it. “Elsa, do you have somewhere we can keep them until it's done?”

“I can monitor things from my apartment.” She reached out, her hand going to Harry's arm only to draw back. “I'll call you if anything happens.”

“Good or bad,” Peter agreed.

Cradling Harry's scaly form in webbing, Peter dragged him up the broken elevator shaft. Tony carried Elsa. She seemed distraught and Peter felt for her. He and Tony were codependent enough. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be separated from a partner who you otherwise shared a body with. It was obvious just how romantically attached they were and how odd was that in the first place? To be in love with the sentient goo you made in a lab.

Elsa lived in one of the cheapest apartments on this side of the city, or any side for that matter. Peter remembered how bad this particular building was from his time looking at apartments with MJ. The place smelled as bad as he remembered. The clutter of old food containers in Elsa's apartment certainly fit in with the aesthetic of the place and there was a faint smell of something dead coming from the overflowing trash can.

Peter tucked Harry into Elsa's bed. He grumbled as he Peter set him down. “Call me if he changes at all. If he moves, if he says something, anything.”

“You got it.” Elsa stood, leaning against the door frame. Her face was twisted with worry. He wanted to assure her that this would work, that everything was going to be fine, but he just didn't know. This was all her research, all her experiment, and yes if it went sideways then it would all be on her. Still, it was her life that was at stake, hers and Harry's. She caught his eye and they shared a look that said it all. She nodded, then he brushed gently passed her.

Tony was toeing at a stack of science magazines that could have been dated years back.

“Ready to head out?”

Peter nodded. He looked over his shoulder and sighed. “I guess so.”

“Sure you don't want to hold your boyfriend's hand until he wakes up?”

Peter shot him a glare. “What's your problem?”

Tony shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Whatever. Let's not do this here.” Peter flipped out of the window and dropped down toward the street. He swung up on a web over the next building then down again. He swung his way up a few blocks, letting the rush of air calm his mind. He had enough on his mind with Harry's life being in danger. He didn't need Tony's jealousy weighing on him. Why had he even bothered to help him if he was going to be a dick about it? Swinging past a window covered in signs for the upcoming mayoral election, it occurred to him that it might not have been about him at all.

Tony was in his office when Peter swung back in through the window. He'd taken off his suit and was fiddling with the sleeve of his under armor. He kept his back turned as Peter came in, but they were going to have it out whether he wanted to or not.

Peter tapped his foot on the floor, debating where to start. “Were you ever actually looking for a cure?”

Tony turned. His expression was insulted. “Was I- of course of I was. Would I have given it to the boy if I found it, though? That's the question you should be asking.”

Peter's jaw clenched and he shook his head. “Why the hell did I ever trust you with this?”

“Because you had no one else,” Tony pointed out. “And because you can trust me.”

“Can I? You were going to use him as leverage against Norman. Why? So you could campaign against him?”

Tony snorted. “I don't need to be mayor, Peter. That's just silly.”

No, Tony was Kingpin and unfortunately that made him more powerful than the mayor. “You were going to get him elected.”

Tony nodded and gestured for him to continue. “And then? What happens next in my genius plan?” He turned away to pour himself a drink.

“And then you control the legal side of the city as much as the underground. Because you have his son. Because if you had a cure you could hold it over him. You wanted to let Harry out so that Norman would owe you everything when you cured him.”

“Well not exactly.” Tony sipped his drink. He leaned back against the table. “I didn't lie to you, Peter. I will never lie to you.” Peter didn't fall for his melting chocolate eyes. “There is no cure. Not yet. By the time we have one, the Lizard will be no more, one way or the other. I was going to let the boy out, let him do some big scary property damage, eat someone's cat, whatever, and then let Osborn know that I know that the Lizard is his son.”

“And he wouldn't want the city to know that. He'd do anything.”

Tony smiled. “Bingo. Now you're thinking like the Kingpin.”

Peter shook his head. “Fuck you,Tony.”

The man rolled his eyes. “I was never going to let anything happen to your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend! You are!”Peter tugged off his mask and paced the floor with it in his hands.“I wish you would just act like it instead of confusing me with all your jealously immediately after pretending that you're capable of putting all of that aside and helping me when I need you to and I don't get you, Tony-” He looked up, realizing then that Tony had set his drink down to stalk towards him somewhere during his babbling.

There was a dark possessive quality to his eyes. Peter let him crowd him in until he was backed into the wall. “Tell me again,” he rumbled. “Who am I?”

There was so much heat rolling between them it was smothering. Despite that he was barely two inches shorter than Tony, he was leaning over him enough to make him feel small, arms caging him in.

“My boyfriend,” Peter answered.

Tony nodded, a grin threatening to curl his lips. “And what are you?”

“Yours?” Peter said, hoping to appease whatever dark desire was growing in his eyes.

Tony's hand twitched against the wall and he could feel it against his throat without it ever touching him. “My everything.”

“Yours,” he said again, in a daze.There was a tension building between them. When Tony pressed their bodies together, Peter sighed with relief as the tension resolved.This was everything he needed. He let his hands wrap around the back of Tony's neck. He soaked up the press of Tony's hands on his waist. The man buried his face in his neck. There was no kissing or teasing, just warmth and comfort as they resolved their jealousy and hurt without another word. They stayed that way until the press of the wall into his back became uncomfortable and Peter gently pushed Tony back a step.

Tony sighed. “I've been selfish, asking you to come back here all this time while Murdock is out there. He'll recover from his injuries soon. You should be with your aunt.”

Peter pressed his forehead against Tony's. “It's going to kill me to be without you.”

"We can survive anything."

"I'll only be a call away."

Tony grinned. "Don't I know it."

#marvel #starker #spiderverse predators #kingpin!tony #dark!peter #au fic #earth 65

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sophi-s · 4 years ago

Text

Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities.

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice. A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

--------------------------------------------------

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #darksiders fury #darksiders raphael #raphael #fury #darksiders OC #human survivor oc #CoK #cost of kindness #chapter IV

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schiavonaintherye · 4 years ago

Text

Melody (S.W.A.L.K) 1971 Livewatch

I have seen this movie. but not the whole thing (i got interupped the first time i watched it)... so here goes!

movie load please

20 seconds of logos???

guitar song™

this movie is so nostalgic for no reason

Mark Lester and Jack Wild: did you mean, Oliver Twist and The Artful Dodger?

and tracy hyde shes here too

i love this movie sm wtf

can these credits end????

ok yes they can

70s film marching band scene

ornshaw drinking whiskey before band bc why not

danny is bby

mY mOtHeR dId It SiR

dannys mum is so annoying wtf

i really love tom ornshaw

run bitch run

The BB™

SET FIRE TO THE NEWSPAPER???

look at his lil face ❤

MELODY MY DAUGHTER

a gowdfish please

aww look at her

“ive done all those things i wanna try something new” LIKE DRAWING TIDDIES? DANIEL

“ah a boy gave it to me at school” was it ornshaw, i bet it was ornshaw

BITCH YOU RIPPED DANNYS TITS DRAWING

melody girl you cant play that fucking recorder

this film has great cinematography wtf

Melody Perkins Deserves The World !!

the gang go to school

Ornshaw Gets Bullied

“the jewish boys may now leave for private study” what about the jewish girls?? there’s clearly girls in the class?? why do they have to listen to the bible

ornshaw’s porn bible

DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHO JESUS WAS???

dont smoke at school kids

okay so shes peggy, why is she credited as maureen. who the fuck is maureen

hear me out, muriel is a lesbian. noone kisses for over five minutes unless youre proper horny and this bitch is like thirteen. she also says “i dont know, i never used to kiss boys”, because SHE DOESNT. shes lying because she doesnt kiss boys. shes closeted and thats whys she says she does. also, she got angry at peggy for saying she fancied a boy.

W I C

“saucy turtles make terrible bathmats, charley” okay okay jeez

ornshaws accent is everything

The Gang sneaking through the fence what will they do

uh oh danny

AWH YOURE BARMY

thats def gonna explode later

ornshaw gets kicked off the bus

but now hes on it

ornshaw and danny have such a wholesome friendship too bad melody ruins it oh wait

you’ve heared of ornshaw gets kicked off the bus now get ready for... ornshaw gets kicked out of the strip club!

you cant get a taxi!!! watch me hoe

where did ornshaw get the chewing gum from wtf

“shes always talking about people like you...” OH OKAY DANNYS MUM IS CLASSIST

“he could do with a heart attack!” WOAH OKAY

time skip to school

oh no danny’s seen melody

“we have three admirers of the dance!” ah shit

ah so maureen is the girl in green

why is ornshaw just standing there

FREE YOURSELVES

the girl gang is hilarious i love them

Muriel Kisses A Tombstone

uh oh dannys been found out

“HES A COWARD CMON”

ornshaw just yeeted his cat

i hate dannys mother sm

assembly time, an iconic part of british comprehensive school, since covid, i cant say i miss it

danny and melody !!

DANNY PLAYS CELLO THIS IS IMPORTANT INFO

melody and her friend are there because plot

melody sweetie baby i love you but you cant play the recorder

THEYRE PLAYING IN HARMONY DKDJSKDJSJKK 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

this is cute as fuck

melody is babey

oh explosives time??

i just dubbed these kids ornshaw and the pyrotechnics crew and it fits

dannys parents are annoying

i quite literally hate them

DANNY SPILT HIS COKE ITS SUCH A SIN

“neviw”

melody girl are you okay

melody are you lying about getting raped

oh time skip to school

we’ve hardly seen ornshaws home life so when will we properly meet him??

god i fucking love ornshaw its mad

oh this is an iconic scene if there ever was one

“go on tom dance with her” oh the ONE TIME ornshaw is called by his first name

youre mad !!

“girls are a load of snotty nose little so and sos” ornshaw aro king

is ornshaw.. scared of women

whatddya mean i dont dance very well!?

is it bad i lowkey crackship peggy and ornshaw now

YOU DANCE STUPID!

no one:

ornshaw: kicks peggy in the shin because he cant dance

“you big fat fool” yikes

danny u ok

ALL ORNSHAW AND HIS MATES DO IS CREATE EXPLOSIVES DJDKJSKt

oh it worked for once

i feel so fucking sorry for melody wtf

bb 🥺

im at the bit where melody is crying while putting on her mothers makeup

SWEETIE ITS OKAY

OH TIME SKIP TO SPORTS DAY!

this film is so fast were already an hour in!

ornshaw giving actually solid life advice?? are you sure this is the same movie

“you youre gonna be bloody useless!”

i literally love ornshaw so much

FUCK DANNYS MUM

GO ON DANNY

YES MY BOY

time skip to school 3982903843290

wtf is a young latin scholars book

lahtimah

not ass latimer, arse

i hate the latin teacher

ornshaw every second: right uh erm um uh so yes sir oh uh mhm

*ornshaw and danny shoving pillows up their underwear*

“dont worry about it!!” dude hes getting spanked by the latin teacher ofc hes gonna worry about it

ornshaw and latimah

“vacate your mouth”

“because its a silly out of date language sir!!!” hes not wrong

uh oh

what will slapping ornshaw’s ass with a dap even gonna do???

oh hi melody forgot about you

AWH DANNY SWEETHEART

“cmon danny dont let her see you cry!” i want a friend like ornshaw man

melody is just STANDING THERE LIKE GIRL LEAVE

“you can buzz off now love, tara, tooduhloo” have i said i love ornshaw? because i love ornshaw

danny dont abandon ornshaw !!

oh this is sad

danny? danny?? danny!!!??? DANNY!!?? 🥺🥺🥺

ORNSHAW RIGHTS MAN

ive felt sorry for literally all three of these kids now

ah fuck now ornshaws having a mental breakdown in the school halls

danny and melody’s relationship is so innocent and wholesome

this is literally so bittersweet, like we’re seeing danny and melody being all cute and happy but we know that back in school ornshaw is literally having a breakdown over them

im tearing up over a movie about schoolchildren in puppy love

“will you love me that long?” “of course! ive loved you a whole week already!”

“hes come to tea! his name is daniel!” melody hes not your pet

melodys dad seems so cool why was he arrested

donald????

i genuinely love melody’s dad

melody dramatically eats toast

time skip to school AGAIN

OH GOD I’M ACTUALLY CRYING

melody and danny are out on a date having fun and its the same song playing as the scene earlier on when danny and ornshaw went off somewhere at the start of the movie, melody has quite literally replaced ornshaw

i have real tears rn

they skipped school to go to weymouth

danny and melody are literally adorable man

“shall we get married?” arent yall like 12????

oh back to school they got in trouble for skipping

apparently the poor cast got spanked for real and like yikes

we want to get married :D

ITS NOT MENT TO BE FUNNY!!

leave danny alone!

leave melody alone!

ornshaw please stop

ornshaw stop taunting him this is gonna end shittily

OH SHIT

THEYRE STRAIGHT UP FIGHTING

ORNSHAW AND DANNY ARE MF WRESTLING EACHOTHER TO THE GROUND

okay now ornshaw is literally beating him up okay

danny this is your fault for ditching him for melody sorry

top ten best anime fight scenes

latin man is back because plot

DID ORNSHAW GIVE HIM A BLOODY NOSE

i’m sorry danny 😭😭

ORNSHAW. DESERVES. THE. FUCKING. WORLD. AND. MORE.

let melody and danny get married!

wait so if 20 is twice as old as her then shes.. ten?? i think

melody ily

“all i want to do is be happy” BABY

OH FUCK YOU MRS LATIMER

oooh

THEYRE GOING TO GET MARRIED BY THE RAILWAY

ornshaws unnamed friend is the true hero of this movie

is this the movie climax???

run! ornshaws unnamed friend! run!

IM SORRY THE’RE LITERALLLY GETTING MARRIED I’M 😭

“we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony.. shaddup”

ITS NOT FUNNY ITS SERIOUS

IS ORNSHAW STRAIGHT UP MARRYING THESE TWO IS HE THEIR VICAR

HE IS AS WELL

“DICKS IS COMING!!!” as soon as they were getting the rings

RUN !!!!

ornshaw just threw the bible at his re teacher from the re scene at the start i love him

DANNYS MUM HAD IT COMING

name a more iconic trio than melody perkins, danny latimer, and tom ornshaw, i’ll wait

GO PEGGY!

ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND IS GONNA FINALLY GET HIS BOMB WORKING!

YES

GO ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND

“i’ll get you ornshaw!” dude how is this his fault its yours for unterupting the wedding latin man

again ouf is the true movie hero

wait latin man is dicks??? whos wannabe remus lupin then????

this just in: ouf is actually named stacey

oh god thats actually such a bittersweet ending

melody and danny trolleying off into the sunset

im actually crying like a baby rn

god that was such a good movie

#you're my melody #melody #melody swalk #swalk #s.w.a.l.k #melody 1971 #tracy hyde #mark lester #jack wild

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chanbangblog · 5 years ago

Text

ive only felt religion when ive lied with you- 11

A/N: (smut, Chan x reader, Canon compliant, fan/idol)

“Fuck, Chris! Fuck-“ you moaned as his hand made contact with your ass again, stinging in the best way.

He pulled you up from where you were bent over the bed, as he thrusted in and out of you like this was his last fuck on Earth. “Who said you could tease me like that in front of everyone?” he asked, teeth gritted.

He ending the question with a particularly hard thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs.

“I’m-I’m sorry baby, I just cant help it when you’re around.” You said, trying your best not to moan in the middle of the sentence because oh god, he felt so good in you right now.

“I know, you’re such little slut for my cock,” he said, as his hand reached around to touch your clit, “tell me who can fuck you this good.” He commanded.

“You baby, only you,” you moaned, as you reached your high, your own hips stuttering as Chris continued to fuck in and out of you.

He let you go and you quite literally collapsed forward onto the bed. He pulled out of you and flipped you over, spreading you so he could push back in.

“You feel good babygirl?” he asked, as he kissed your cheek. You moved so your lips could meet, never growing tired of the butterflies you got each time. You wish you could bottle that exact feeling and save it for a hard day.

“Yes, you always make me feel good.” You said, in reply after your lips parted. He stood up and quickened his pace again, hands under your knees to push them back and gain better access.

“I want your cum baby, please,” you begged, you loved the sight of him cumming on your stomach and you wanted it again, now.

“Are you gonna lick it up again?” he asked, sounding fucked out.

“Yes I love the taste so much, please baby” you begged. Your begs worked because a few moments later he had pulled out and was pumping his cock as white spurts painted your stomach.

You ran your finger through it and licked it clean, just how you knew he liked it. He was smiling this time.

“You really are amazing, y/n.” Chris said, before turning to go get a towel to clean you all up.

A few minutes later when you were laying in bed, naked in each other’s arms, you finally spoke what was on your mind.

“Well I see we’re not using condoms anymore.” You blurted out.

Jesus. Smooth, once again.

“Yeah I guess not, I mean, I know I’m clean,” he said, looking at you expectantly.

You hesitated, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “Oh, um, yeah. Me too, I mean, I got tested after I found out my ex had cheated on me and I was clean. I’ve never had sex without a condom with anyone unless they were, um, my boyfriend,” you cringed even as the words were coming out of your mouth.

You did not just say that word. The B word. You did not.

“Good thing I’m your boyfriend then.” Chris said, smiling.

“MY WHAT-“ you cut yourself off, sucking in a breath in shock, stomach doing a million back flips at once and threatening to turn on you.

Fuck y/n, don’t throw up, not now not now.

You threw the covers off of both of you and slung your legs over the side of the bed so you could sit up and put your head in your hands.

Chris was laughing, laughing. You could hear him behind you as you desperately tried to calm down.

“No this is not happening, I do not have a boyfriend, I do not-“ you stopped when you realized you were speaking out loud.

“Yes you do, and it’s me!” Chris sing-songed in the background.

“No, we can’t, I- I can’t-“ your words turned into a broken sob as reality overtook you. It couldn’t be true, it could never work, never in a million years.

You hid your face in your hand as you finally let all your emotions flow out with your tears, sobs racking your body. You could barely hear Chris over your own noises and you could feel him moving toward you.

You just sobbed for a few more moments before you realized Chris had taken your hands and was trying to get you to focus.

When you finally did focus, his face was right in front of you, he was kneeling in the floor.

“Y/n, Y/n, It’s okay babygirl, I didn’t mean to force it, if you don’t want me like that then-“

“Don’t want you? How could I not want you? Look at us together, we’re perfect! It’s not about what I want! It can’t happen Chris! You’re an idol, you’re untouchable and-“

“and yet here we are,” he finished, “I don’t know how it’s going to work but I want it to, I fucking care about you and I can’t see you as anything but my girlfriend.”

His words hurt. How could words so sweet, hurt so much?

“Exactly, you don’t know how. Because it’s not going to work.” You cried, “You live in Korea and are constantly travelling. I live here, I have a life here, Chris. I can’t just give up everything to chase you!”

“I’m not asking you to, I would never ask you to.” He said, “but you told me you’ve always dreamed about living in Seoul, what if you try it out? And while you do that, you give us a try?” he asked, eyes full of hope. Hope you knew you would crush.

“I can’t live in the shadows like this, Chris. I can’t have the best thing in my fucking life be a secret. I can’t ruin your career just because I’m selfish! What if they found out? I couldn’t live with myself! I couldn’t!” you screamed.

“Look, I don’t have to hide my personal life forever, I’m sure you’ve heard about the three year-“

“Dating ban. Yeah, I know. So you want me to live like this for two more years? Am I hearing you correctly?” you demanded.

“Live like this? I thought you were having fun.” Chris said, drawing back, hurt painting his features.

“I am having the time of my life Chris! But I can only stay in hotel rooms and rooftops for so long” you yelled as another sob overtook you.

“You’re right…you’re right.” He replied.

Chris wrapped his arms around you then and you cried until you felt you didn’t have any more tears. When you were finally done, you looked up at him, only to find his eyes puffy and red too.

“Y/n, do you want me?” he asked in an even tone, serious as death.

“Yes, always.” You said instantly.

“Then we’re going to figure this out.”

***

The morning light painted the ceiling yellow, your eyes followed the beautiful rays of light that danced above you as the Texas sun rose.

You couldn’t be sure how long you had been awake or how long you had been asleep prior to that. You just lied there and listened to the rhythmic sounds of your boyfriend breathing in and out in his sleep.

Your boyfriend.

You weren’t sure if it would ever seem real. You weren’t sure if you were a fool for trying. But you did know one thing, you wanted him, more than anything you had ever wanted before. And maybe that was enough.

Your arm was under his neck, your fingertips pulling softly on his hair as you ran your fingers through it, his face in the crook of your neck, legs tangled together. You wished you could pause time right here. In the early morning hours, while the city and the world were still asleep and all that mattered was his breath brushing against your skin.

But you learned quickly again, time doesn’t stop for anyone.

A knocking on the hotel door woke Chris up from his sleep, and you from your delusions.

He shouted something in Korean and threw some pants on as he stumbled through the door. He had a quick conversation through the door and came back to the bed.

“Y/n…” he said, grabbing your hand.

“Don’t Chris, don’t ask me because I’ll say yes.”

“Please come to LA with me,” he said, and took you in his arms. You collapsed in his embrace as you shook your head yes.

“Should I get Bluebird a ticket too?” Chris asked, nothing but seriousness in his voice.

You cackled, “her name is Robyn, Chris!” he joined you in laughter and you were grateful for the comedic relief.

“Yeah well Bluebird is more fun to say.” He chuckled back at you.

“I think Jisung would be really upset if you didn’t get her a ticket too,” you said.

“Yeah and Minho too from what I can tell!” Chris added.

“Remind me to tell you about Minho’s drunken escapades later,” you said, laughing even more at the memory.

“Oh god I can’t wait to hear this,” Chris said.

“Let’s just say it involves a can of shaving cream, the maknaes and Hard Carry by GOT7,” you said.

“Jesus Christ.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fics #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #skz smut #skz fics

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iturbide · 5 years ago

Note

⭐ directors commentary is always fun! go wild, pick what you want!

bany you’re not helping you know full well how much i’ve written for The AU

Grabbing his IV pole in one hand and a chair in the other, Galo moved around to the far side of the bed, taking a seat and folding his fingers around Lio’s hand. His skin felt slightly brittle, even to that gentle touch, and it took every ounce of willpower for the firefighter to keep his grip steady, rather than pulling away or tensing up. He still couldn’t see any change in the mask, but from this close, he could at least see the Burnish breathing, which was arguably a good sign – but what worried him was how cold Lio felt. Every other Burnish he’d sat with, who had touched him, had left a warm feeling nested in his heart; but with Lio, it felt like…an absence of heat, the impression of fire remembered through the ash that remained. If there was an ember left, he couldn’t feel it.

But he stayed, even so, listening to the machines around him, steady whirs and intermittent beeps breaking up the silence. And when he couldn’t take that anymore, he started talking, quietly, about anything that came to mind: about Burning Rescue, about Lucia and her inventions and the Matoitech they were both so proud of, about Aina and her burning heart, about the chief and Remi and Varys, and how he missed the pizza from Pop’s place, and how he hoped Marco was okay…and how he hoped Lio would be, too.

After a while, he thought he felt a little bit of warmth pulsing against his fingers, though it was hard to tell what was really Lio’s and not just his own. When he chanced another glance at the Burnish, he couldn’t spot any more ash flakes; that was a good sign, if nothing else. He thought there might be a little more color in his skin, too, though it was hard to tell with as pale as Lio was. Galo kept talking, though, because it was either that or listen to the medical monitors, and he knew that would drive him insane: he talked about the other Burnish he’d met with so far, since he had a feeling Lio would want to know how they were doing, and how he thought they were going to be okay now that the Federation had taken over the hospitals. He debated whether or not he should mention what the Promeopolis doctors had done…and decided against it. Mostly because he didn’t trust himself to keep calm if he tried to voice that.

Something twitched in his palm.

Looking over to make sure the Burnish was okay…he saw one of the monitors starting to flash as a spinning triangle grew in the middle of the screen. That was weird. But now he definitely felt Lio’s fingers curling in his, and something was flickering in his chest now, unsteady, like sparks over dry leaves fizzling and trying to light. “Hey,” he murmured, tightening his hand slightly. “Hey, you awake?”

He saw the Burnish squeeze his eyes shut a little tighter, felt his fingers clench, watched his chest rise as he took in a deep, audible breath…and heard it catch.

The mask went from foggy white to soot black in less than a second as Lio started coughing, convulsing, his free hand clawing at the band that kept it on him while the other clung to Galo’s fingers. “E-easy! Easy, Lio, just – just take a breath,” the firefighter babbled, trying not to panic while he pulled the face mask free. He wasn’t sure if it helped or not; all he knew was that suddenly he could hear those strained breaths a lot more clearly, too shallow and rasping between coughs that brought up gouts of smoke. Tightening his fingers on Lio’s hand, Galo threw his other arm across the Burnish, pulling him in close and feeling Lio’s forehead press against the curve of his neck. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “I’ve got you, Lio, it’s okay, just – deep breaths, okay?”

He tried to draw one, and very nearly dissolved into his own fit of coughs when the acrid smoke scraped the back of his throat. But he managed to tamp it down (if only barely), breathing deep and blowing it out in a slow sigh before taking another. He thought he heard the Burnish try to mimic it…only for it to hitch and shudder into another painful fit, and something was searing through his heart as Lio clutched at him, and all he could do was hold on tight to that sputtering fire and pray it would manage to light.

He didn’t know how long it took. It felt like hours, when his nerves were frayed like one of Vinny’s chew toys. But eventually – finally – the Burnish managed to take a breath that didn’t end with him choking up more smoke. And another, too small and too shallow to do much, but better than the nothing he’d been getting. “That’s it,” Galo mumbled encouragingly, “keep going like that, nice and easy…”

A thin, rattling whine rose from somewhere around his shoulder. “Gh…Gal-o?”

“None other,” he joked weakly, squirming his way up onto the edge of the bed and pulling Lio in as close as he could manage. To his shock, the Burnish didn’t try to push him away – he clung tighter, instead, and Galo swore he felt a foreign flicker in his breast with every one of Lio’s ragged gasps. “Easy does it, come on…”

The Burnish didn’t stop shaking. But the smoke thinned out, his breath started coming a little deeper, and with it a steady warmth finally settled somewhere deep in the firefighter’s chest. Running his hand up and down Lio’s back a few more times, he felt the Burnish start to slump against his side and scrambled to shore him up. “H-hey, whoa, you okay?”

The firefighter felt the slightest pressure as Lio squeezed his fingers. “Wh-what hap’ned?”

“Uh. A lot,” Galo mumbled. “But just take it easy, okay, it’s all taken care of now–”

“Galo.”

He stiffened at the sharpness of that voice. “Y-yeah?”

“What happened.”

“Lio–”

“Tell me.”

His gut twisted. But somehow, he didn’t think he’d be getting out of this conversation. So he steeled his nerves and started in.

Look I have approximately 300 different things in this one fic that I want to yell about, so I’m just taking an early one and running with it. And even this one includes…at least three separate things I’m excited about, including A) Burnish-specific medical treatments and equipment, B) effects of sedation on Burnish and their connection to the Promare, and C) Burnish-to-Burnish connections (proximity-based and otherwise) and associated support. Like holy fuck there’s so much cool stuff to dig into.

Like, just think about how different Burnish are from humans without a connection to the Promare. They’re bound to a literal living flame that gives them regenerative powers and control over fire to the point that heat doesn’t even faze them. Trying to provide the same medical treatment to a Burnish as a non-Burnish probably won’t go well, because their innate biology had been radically altered by their connection to the Promare. Enter Burnish-specific treatments: while Promeopolis has remained in the dark ages when it comes to Burnish treatment, the rest of the world has advanced considerably, and not only learned what kinds of treatment Burnish benefit from, but actively seeks to provide it. Supporting Burnish flames with IV treatments and supplied oxygen, having means to perform necessary treatments that circumvent the regeneration factor…it could have been done – and outside Promeopolis, it was.

And then there’s the whole idea of Burnish connections to their Promare. Canon already tells us that a Burnish can’t survive without their flame – it’s why the painful extraction used for the warp drive was so insidious, not to mention why the flame transfers were so important. But freezing or removing flames aren’t the only ways to threaten them: there’s smothering, as well. Antiquated sedation methods designed to control a flame by stiffing it are probably common in Promeopolis, given how they generally treat Burnish; assuming that it manages to stay lit at all, coming back around would be an uncomfortable joint venture for both the Burnish and the flame they’re attached to as they try to regain a stable connection after that cruel attempt to stamp it out.

Which leads into the Burnish-to-Burnish connection. Again, this is something we see not infrequently in canon, from the way Lio, Gueira, and Meis bring their flames together at the close of Lio-hen to the life-saving Burnish CPR method where a flame is literally passed to another Burnish in an attempt to keep theirs burning. With Promare themselves being widely connected – a hivemind of sorts, perhaps most akin to a community of coral – it’s practically a given that Burnish can sense one another through their flames, most notably their emotions and their pain. While this is easy enough for experienced Burnish who are well aware of their local Conflagration, it’s somewhat unavoidable when there’s physical contact involved: what Galo’s feeling isn’t just the pain of Lio’s flame trying to catch post-sedation, there’s a much larger and more insidious problem he’s getting a sense of, whether he realizes it or not.

#answered #banyanas #meme #writing #fanfiction #promare #galo thymos #lio fotia #look there are so many more things i could talk about #lio not knowing how to just relax and let himself recover for example #the whole nightmare with the ash flaking #endlessly on and on #this thing is too big bany #snippets

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itsmyfuneralokay · 6 years ago

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Queens |Part Two|

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Second part (here’s Part One)

Part Three

The weekend passed by, and Peter didn’t see her again. Believe me, he tried. Saturday he swung by her window like a thousand times, and Sunday he sat on the fire escape across from hers in between every neighborhood duty.

Monday came, and he counted down the minutes until Chemistry.

At lunch, Ned was trying to explain some Star Wars related story to Peter, but his mind was stuck on the girl who seemed to be fake laughing with her friends at their table.

Finally, chemistry rolled around, and she came into class a few seconds late as usual. She sat down and quietly got out her notebook.

The teacher wasn’t in the room yet, and everyone was quietly talking amongst themselves.

“Hey-“

“Y/N!” The girl in front of her cut Peter off.

She gave him a dirty look and pulled out one of Y/n’s headphones to grab her attention.

“Where were you all weekend? We missed you at the party...”

Y/n just shrugged and gave her a ‘sorry’ smile.

Peter thought back to Friday night. If she wasn’t sneaking out to go to a party, or go with her friends... where was she going?

Oh well, that’s none of his business he figured.

Her friend had turned back to some other girl, and Y/N was putting her headphone back in when Peter tried again.

“Hey-“ He said waving his hand by her to grab her attention.

She took out the headphone again and turned to him.

“What’s up?”

“Um I noticed your drawing Spider-Man- I wanted to say- well I wasn’t like spying on you or anything - but anyway I wanted to say it looks really good. Is it from a reference photo or just-?”

She smiled at his interest.

“Actually...” she leaned over closer to him and nudged for him to lean in.

“Don’t tell anyone okay? But he was on my fire escape this weekend. Kinda crazy shit for an average Friday night.”

His heart was beating so fast from being so close to her that he almost couldn’t focus on what she was saying.

“Yeah that’s- wow- that’s really cool” he breathed out finally.

Just as she was gonna respond, the teacher walked in and called the attention to the front.

He didn’t have another opportunity to talk to her all class, and afterward, her friend rushed her out.

It was okay though because that little conversation meant a lot to Peter. Little did he know, she was excited he finally talked to her. I mean he seemed pretty cool, and she knew he was like crazy smart, so she assumed he didn’t really think much of her and her average grades.

——————————————————————

Peter hatched an idea after telling Ned everything about Friday night and today in class on their walk home.

Ned agreed to help him take a photo of spiderman pretty close up so Peter could use it as conversation next time he was in class with her.

Suddenly his whole had gotten a lot more interesting, and that was coming from a literally superhero.

———————————————————————

Except he couldn’t use the photo, because she didn’t show up to school on Tuesday. Peter decided he would just accidentally perch on her fire escape again.

So after school on Tuesday, Peter rushed home after leaving Ned and changed into the suit. He sat on the ledge of her escape and watched over the street below.

Then, just as he had hoped, a window opened behind him, and the girl joined him on the ledge.

“You come here often?” He joked.

She laughed and kicked her feet around over the ledge.

“So spidey tell me, why is it I only see you fighting crime past 3pm? I mean isn’t their crime in the morning?”

“Well I got school so- I Mean - Well- oh no”

She turned to him suddenly.

“You’re in school??”

He didn’t know how to respond.

“Not any schools around here. Obviously, that would be too dangerous”

“Well I mean, that’s understandable. I guess not all super hero’s are gonna be 40-year-old men.”

She went back to looking over the skyline. Peter still didn’t speak.

“You know, just a second ago you reminded me of a boy in my class.”

Peter tensed up. This was gonna be dangerous territory.

“And who’s that?”

“His name is Peter. He seems really sweet but boy is he shy. Iv been waiting to see if he would talk to me all year and he finally just did yesterday.”

She was waiting for him? Peter felt his heartbeat increase. He would have done something so sooner if he knew she was waiting.

“Do you have a thing for him or something?” Peter teased.

“Honestly?” She laughed a little.

“Hell yeah. I mean he is very different than who I’m usually attracted to, but I’m tired of those people. The girls only ever want to drink and go to parties, and the guys just want arm candy. It’s boring you know? It’s the same thing every time.”

Spider-Man laughed.

“I didn’t know you were into both”

“You know what they say... the Bible said Adam aNd Eve, not Adam or Eve.”

Both Y/N and Peter erupted into a fit of laughs.

“Who says! Iv never heard that but got that’s funny!”

Just as she was about to chime back in, the bank down the street started blasting a security alarm.

“Well, I think that’s for you. Hey spidey!” She said as he was about to web off.

“Come back tomorrow won’t you?”

He nodded and smiled under his mask.

‘I could have come back tonight’ he thought to himself as he watched her climb back inside her window.

A/N: I can’t stop thinking about the interview with Tom and Everyone where they are answering googles most asked questions and “Can Tom Holland speak Spanish” comes up and everyone laughed and Tom just turns to the camera and goes “sí” like good god I’m in love with a giant fucking dumbass

Side note: I just posted the first part AND HOLY FUCK it’s only been a few hours and it’s got 70 something notes YALL REALLY MAKING ME FEEL LOVED I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE READING THIS SHIT WRITING

Also... tag list??? I am down to do that so lmk if you tryna be added

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #Spiderman x reader #ffh #ffh spoilers #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #tom holland x reader #tom holland

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luckyspike · 6 years ago

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Eleventh Hour Admission - A Good Omens fanfiction

Hey guys remember when I talked about writing a hospital AU

i did it but no one is a doctor they’re all nurses

title refers to literally getting an admission during the eleventh hour of your shift, possibly a fate worse than death

CW: hospitals, medical procedures, automobile accidents, the joint commission

this will never be continued (probably) or posted to AO3, so enjoy it

Ari Fell liked it his job. That wasn’t sarcasm. He really, truly liked his job: he liked helping other people, he liked watching the sickest of the sick get well again and, when he couldn’t do that, he liked being there for them, trying to help them peacefully and painlessly move on. He liked meeting the families of his patients, he liked getting to know his patients when they could talk, and he liked that every day was a new day, something different and unknown and rife with opportunity to learn something new, or to help someone.

He liked his job, but he didn’t like 6am admissions.

Which, he had a feeling, was precisely why his ASCOM phone was going off at 5:55am. The caller ID informed him that it was Gabriel, the charge for tonight. He winced and the other nurse working the east pod with him tonight, Tracy, nodded sympathetically. He picked up the phone, and answered the call.

“Ari!” Yes. Yes, that was Gabriel. By the sound of it, he was in the cafeteria, likely having coffee with the other charges during their morning “bed meeting”. Ari had long since suspected that “bed meeting” was an excuse to get coffee and kvetch for the last hour of their shift, but he’d never really had the opportunity to find out, after he’d refused the offered charge position last year.

“Gabe.” He stared gloomily at the empty room before him. It had been empty all night, after he’d packed the last patient off to IMC to make room for a possible admit. He had known it was too good to be true, known with a sort of icy certainty that a quiet night would never last, and soon enough there would be some kind of admit rolling up. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be an hour before shift change but, well …

Maybe it would be an intubated pneumonia. Sedated, even. That would be nice.

“Got an ED trainwreck coming up. You heard them call that level 1 trauma, yeah?”

His heart dropped into his stomach, which dropped all the way to his Danskos. “Yes.”

“MVA, lady was flying and ran off the road into the orchard. Hit like three of the apple trees, Bee told me. Anyway, she’s a hot mess. I told them they could call report and bring her up any time.”

“I’ll need to stock the room -”

Gabriel ignored him. “I’d love to help get her settled but we’re gonna be in bed meeting until 6:30 and then I have to do the board for day shift, but I’m sure you and Tracy’ll have it in hand. Holler if you need anything!” The line went dead.

“What do you need?” Tracy asked, already half out of the pod, aimed toward the supply room. The supply room, Ari knew, where the housekeeper usually hung around this time of the morning, surreptitiously drinking instant-brew coffee behind the Pyxis.

Ari sighed. “A whole set-up. I don’t have report yet, but it’s a trauma. Probably need suction and the whole nine yards.” The ASCOM chirped again. “That’ll be report.”

“I’ll get some culture bottles and extra red tops as well.” He nodded to her as she vanished around the corner, and picked up the phone. “Ari Fell, ICU 4 East.”

“Ari!” He might have groaned. “It’s AJ!”

“Great. You’re calling report, I assume?”

“Well, yeah, but also I was just thinking I’m off for two days after this, and I don’t have any plans after my shift, was thinking about kegs and eggs at the place across the street. Care to join?”

“Somehow,” Ari said with rather more chill to his tone than usual, “I think I’ll be getting off my shift late.”

AJ laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m bringing up the hot mess express.”

“Oh, boy.” He half-sighed, half-groaned. “I’m ready.”

“Right, patient’s still a Jane Doe but ID in her purse said Eve Smith, 22 years old, just waiting on family to confirm. Chaplain called her parents but no answer yet. Anyway, adult female, unrestrained driver in car-versus-tree MVA, GCS of 3 at the scene, flown here, went into SVT on the way but we’ve got her on amio now at 0.5mg/hr, pan-scan showed a left-sided pneumo -”

He rattled on, Ari jotting down notes as AJ moved through the systems. At least there was that: report from AJ was, usually, good, although he did like to linger on the gory details a little longer than necessary sometimes. If he was going to get a 6am admit, at least he’d have a good report to hand off to the next shift when he inevitably presented them with this hot disaster.

Tracy was back from the supply room, a suspicious damp spot on her scrub top. The navy blue shade hid the color of the spot, but if Ari had to guess, it would be the color of Svanka instant coffee. “Enough?” she asked, holding up two bags of supplies and a handful of lab tubes. He cupped a hand over the phone.

“Two straight poles and an IV pole,” he whispered. “And an EVD hookup for the monitor.”

“Gotcha.”

“Anyway,” AJ was saying, “she’s got a Foley, so you don’t have to worry about that, and, ah … Hm. Multiple lacerations and abrasions spread out all over, but no pressure wounds or anything otherwise. Right. Anything else you need?”

“Ah …” He looked at the report sheet, the notes about infusions and lines and testing left un-done, and shrugged. “You’re coming up with her, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t crump on the way up. I’ll probably be bagging her when we get there.”

He grimaced. “Wonderful. I’ll have RT ready. Otherwise, uh … no, I think I should be alright. Whenever you’re ready, we’ve got the room stocked.”

“Okay.” A little distantly, as if he’d moved away from the receiver somewhat, he heard AJ call, “Hey, you ready Erica? Time to move!” And then, back into the phone. “See you in ten.”

Ari ended the call, placed a quick SOS to respiratory for a vent delivery, and tossed the ASCOM onto the desk. One last chance to check his other patient - a post-op heart cath they’d sent for access site observation overnight before planned discharge in the morning - and then he headed into the empty room, fussing around with the lines and waiting. The vent was there, already pre-programmed with the settings, blue screen glowing in the dark room as it waited. Tracy returned with the required equipment, and rolled a pole across the room, around the end of the bed, toward Ari.

“Disaster?”

“Complete train wreck.”

She patted his shoulder. “My two are primped and propped and ready for seven. I can help all you like, dear.” She was always nice like that, calling him ‘dear’. He supposed it made sense, given that Tracy was old enough to be his mother, but he had noticed she never used the term for anybody else. He’d never asked her about it, though, mostly because he was sort of afraid that if he pointed it out, she would stop.

“I think we just wait, now.”

“Fresh meat coming?” The gruff voice of the custodian drew their attention to the doorway. “I’m off duty at 6:30, so if you think I’ll be coming in here to clean up whatever mess you and those hideous interns make -”

“I’m sure your relief will have it well in-hand, Mr. S.” Tracy fluttered her eyelashes, and leaned across the bedside table, the front of her V-neck scrub top gaping open just enough to draw the housekeeper’s eyes. “You know, I was thinking of getting breakfast and coffee at The Pantry across the street after shift … been craving their waffles.” It was a statement, but it hung open like a question. Mr. S blushed a little.

“I … I’m a little hungry myself. Could go for a nice thick pat of scrapple.” He cleared his throat. At the far corner of the ICU, Ari heard the elevator - the direct-from-the-ED elevator - ding open, and the distant sound of alarms suffused through the early-morning bustle of the unit.

“Think they might have two seats at the breakfast bar?”

“Maybe.” He smiled a little, and then remembered himself and glowered. “If an educated woman’ll deign to eat with me, that is.”

“Mm, I think I might be able to bring myself to slum it this morning.” She waved a hand. “Here she comes, move over, there’s a love.”

And come she did, in a wail of alarms and machines and, Ari was both relieved and exasperated to see, AJ, who had, as long as Ari had known him, struggled with the concept of ‘reserved’. “Heyo, told you so!” AJ was, as promised, bagging the patient, his arm snaked between various lines and tubes, the critically-ill human attached to them almost so covered as to be invisible. “Ari.”

Ari looked at the lines, horrified, and then to AJ. “What happened?”

“Huh? Oh. She came back from radiology like this. Didn’t have time to untangle everything.”

“Nothing’s even labeled!” He waved his hands at the mess. “You’ve got fluids and pressors and is that blood? What’s going where?”

“Ah. All in the subclavian, I’d imagine.” The redhead added, with scathing sarcasm, “Pretty sure I didn’t hook anything up to the EVD. Got a slide board?”

Tracy had, and she and Ari tucked it under the unconscious young woman as AJ and Erica rolled her to the side. “Hang on, let me check her back while she’s there.” There were abrasions, and lacerations, too many to count or list as part of a specific area, and then, between her shoulder blades, was an apple blossom. He plucked it off. “Really, you couldn’t clean that off?”

“Had bigger fish to fry. You done?” AJ raised an eyebrow at him, visible of the rims of his dark-tinted glasses, and Ari nodded. AJ and Erica let the woman down. “On three -” She was light enough, and with four of them they had her slid into the ICU bed in one smooth motion, still piled with a tangled mess of lines and tubes.

“You really had to bring this mess up,” Ari griped, trying to decide where to start first. His eyes widened. “You left the EVD lying under her pillow!”

“It’s clamped!” AJ replied with an exasperated groan, gratefully flicking on the vent and plugging it into the ET tube.

Erica rolled her eyes. “You done here? I’ve got to get back to the department.”

“Be right behind you,” AJ said, waving the other nurse off. “I’m gonna help whiny here get organized.” He pulled the EVD from under the pillow, carefully threading the buritrol back through the other lines until the tubing lay neatly over the rest of the tangled mess. Carefully, he hung it on the straight pole, leveled it, and opened the clamp. Pink-tinged spinal fluid started to drip out. “Come on, hand me the cable, I’ll even hook it up for you.”

“How charitable,” Ari grumbled, tossing the cable behind the headboard and bouncing it off AJ’s shoulder. “Bastard.”

“Now, boys,” Tracy admonished from the foot of the bed, where she was busying herself with untangling the Foley and the SCDs*. “Let’s not argue.”

[* Are SCDs really that important in a fragile immediately post-trauma patient, you may ask. To which the answer is: only if the Joint Commission is there.]

“Oh, we’re just having a good time.” AJ was tracing the IV tubing containing the fluids down through the sheets. “Alright, so this is going to the peripheral, just untangle this -”

“You know,” Ari said, as he fiddled with the monitor and the arterial line, trying to check for level in spite of the level being, as always, conspicuously absent. “I’m sure you have patients back down in the department. You don’t have to help. I was just giving you a hard time.” He ended up seizing a length of blood pressure cuff tubing and eyeballing the line between the transducer and the phlebostatic axis.

“Well, what if I want to?” He snorted. “My only other patient down there is a kid with a head lac, and he’s on ice until the LET kicks in and we can do staples anyway. Which will be, fortunately, after shift change. He looks like a screamer.” He smirked at Ari, and passed the IV pump with all of the various central line tubing across the bed to him. “Never let it be said I’m not occasionally nice.”

“You’re not.”

“Hey.”

At the foot of the bed, Tracy shook her head, tapping in the vital signs as she did. “Did anyone page the fellow to let them know she’s arrived?”

“Not yet,” they replied, in unison. And then exchanged a look, very briefly, before Ari looked away to busy himself with setting the monitor alarm parameters and AJ became absorbed in scribbling labels for the IV tubing.

“I’ll do it, then.”

It was quiet for a minute while they worked, but after a time, Ari realized the white sheet atop the woman was clear, the lines were meticulously untangled and laid properly, with messily-written but legible labels. It would have done the Joint Commission proud.

“Think she still needed cultures,” AJ muttered, grabbing the bottles off of the counter. “Where do you keep the tourniquets up here?”

“Here.” He set to checking orders, with the black-clad invader from the ED pulled the first set of cultures on the first stick. Ari frowned, impressed. “Nice one.”

“Eh, you get good at ‘em when you have to get a line in anything.”

“Seriously,” Ari said, more quietly now, noting that for the most part, all of the ED orders had been cleaned up, taken care of, and signed off before the patient had arrived, “you can go. Really, I’m grateful, but I can handle it and you don’t have to -”

“I know. But this is really selfish for me.” He tore the tip of the index finger off the fresh pair of gloves he’d donned, the better to palpate a vein in the opposite arm, where the splint would allow. “Don’t wanna eat breakfast alone.”

Ari stared at him for a minute. Blinked. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” AJ replied, tone flippant. “I think it counts as alcoholism if you drink alone too much. Have to keep up the facade of being a normal, healthy, functional adult.” He winked at Ari over the rim of his glasses. “You know how it goes, choir-boy.”

“I -” he glanced into the hallway, where Tracy and Mr. S were chatting. Mr. S had clocked out - was it past 6:30 already? And Tracy had her ASCOM in hand, although by the looks of it she hadn’t yet called. If she waited much longer, the fellow wouldn’t arrive with new orders until after shift change. He could have laughed. What an angel. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. You want to get a pitcher?”

Aj laughed, although he was watching intently as the second bottle filled. “You know, I have two days off coming up - what the hell? Let’s do it.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #human au #crowley #aziraphale #hospital au #i did it i did the thing #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

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sharkmobster · 6 years ago

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spider verse coffee shop au??

Anon im sorry i wanted to draw the coffeeshop au but ive been so tired lately so imma just overshare about what goes down bc this au is just (thick tombstone voice) : “everybody’s traumatized bitch lets get you a latte”

• this au is incredibly villain centric bc uhhhhh all i do is think about villains

• its also very aaron davis centric bc time to project my anxiety onto a grown ass man babey!!

• anyway this takes place in a normal world where there’s no superheros or avengers or what have you, everyone’s super average

• like i said this is more or less aaron centric and focuses on him readjusting to society and making connections with other people, and just healing in general. Aaron’s whole deal is that he was wrongfully arrested for defending himself against an off duty cop who was harassing him and ended up with a 10 year sentence (but was let off a year earlier for good behaviour). He’s got a lot of guilt bc of this if only for the fact that he feels like he let down his brother and Miles (who was a small lad at the time).

• Fun Fact! Jefferson was the one that picked up Aaron at the jail when he served out his sentence! The ride back to brooklyn was awkward! but also jefferson loves his brother and even tho they’ve had their falling outs he never once stopped believing that his brother was innocent. Jefferson also made sure to pull some strings and ended up getting an apartment set up for Aaron (even though jefferson and rio were 100% down to open their home to him for as long as it took him to get back onto his feet but of course aaron denied them bc he didnt want to be a burden) Aaron’s grateful but he tends to avoid his own family…a lot….

• it’s ridiculously hard to find a job bc nobody wants to hire an ex convict no matter the circumstances and Aaron’s legitimately about to lose hope when he spots an expensive looking shop nestled in between an old arcade and a knick knack shop

• ‘Vanessa’s Cafe’ is neatly printed above the door in fancy gold lettering. it’s obvious that the owner has serious cash bc the shop looks too damn good and too well maintained to be a regular mom and pop shop. there’s a help wanted sign hastily scribbled on a piece of notebook paper in the middle of the window which is odd since it off sets the professional vibe of the place. But hey it’s worth a shot so Aaron walks in ready to be denied another job only to find the weirdest looking group of people he’s ever seen.

• The first guy that catches his attention is the very large albino man who looks way too stressed out and manic to be working in a coffeeshop, but the job must pay well because he’s very well dressed.

• “Liv, for fuck’s sake! Clean your goddamn station!” he’s whisper shouting? Is that even a thing? oh look at that he’s got a full set of razor sharp teeth. huh. that’s a hell of an aesthetic he’s going for.

• The lady in question isn’t even giving him the time of day, just enthralled by her phone with a smile that looks too peaceful given what’s happening around her. She’s got wild hair tied up messily in a knitted bandana, weird glasses (custom made??) and when she glances up at aaron, her eyes widen in interest like he’s some anomaly to be cracked open. aaron looks anywhere that isnt the wild eyed lady at the counter.

• Theres another big guy that’s hanging around the back, heavily tattooed and lifting stacks of heavy boxes. Aaron takes notice of his prosthetic hand and the tattoo guy takes notice of Aaron.

• “Lonnie. Customer.” The Tattoo guy seems nonplussed about Aaron and walks into the back. aaron assumes that he’s offended him by staring at his prosthetic for longer than necessary which yeah….yeah he’s probably not happy about the staring.

• lonnie’s got a bad case of resting bitch face so he’s glaring at aaron without actually glaring and he’s just rough around ALL the edges so his tones got that nice bite to it as he shouts from across the counter (which is not something you do to a customer but it’s lonnie…..) "Hey! Ya looking for a job, skinny jeans?!“

• Aaron blanches at the idea of working with these people but he is absolutely desperate for a job at this point.

•"Yeah. I just got out of-”

•"Great, you’re hired! We’re speed running this whole introduction thing, string bean.“

•and that’s all i got other than like small details like:

•Peter B Parker owns a ”“’'cafe”“” across from Vanessa’s and its literally just a burger joint that h a p p e n s to sell coffee and Parker will fight you if you call his place a deli ahdhdj

•Liv and May are dating (big shock) and peter b has to constantly deal with seeing his competition over at his place all the time and it’s yikes

• Tombstone and Noir will 100% throw hands on contact. They don’t hate each other tho??? Its weird they just like to fight. gives them a chance to work on their banter i guess. Noir works the coffee machine at Peter’s “'cafe”’ so i guess he’s the “”barista”” of the joint but he drinks the coffee more than the customers do

• Miles and the rest of the spider kids “”“”“"intern”“”“” at the cafe which basically translates to free labor

• spider ham works there but he isnt a pig he’s just john mulaney. i know its weird. nobody actually sees him tho so he’s a complete mystery as to what he looks like so he could be john mulaney you never know. the only person who’s seen him is noir and that’s only bc they’re a thing???

•oh speaking of everyone being gay: everyone’s gay

• Lonnie and Gargan (tombstone and scorpion) are 100% dating but everyone legitimately thinks that the both of them are straight old men despite the fact that they live together, go to work together, hang out afterwards together, and they’re just always together

• lonnie’s daughter (janice) visits every other week (def the product of a divorce he went through years ago) she’s alright with gargan but she’s very distant towards her dad and def has that teen angst phase that she’s going through

• (lonnie can and will talk to you for hours about how much he loves and supports his daughter despite the fact that their relationship is very estranged)

• you can find janice hanging out with the cute blond punk girl at that weird burger/coffee place across the street

• oh gargan’s big and strong despite the fact that he’s missing three limbs, liv works in robotics on the side and constantly tweaks and repairs his prosthetics when they start acting up which leads to them having this weird friendship where they both borrow each other when they need something and dont really expect anything in return (like gargan’s good for getting her supplies and doing heavy lifting when she needs it and liv’s always down to run check ups on gargan)

• oh yeah liv used to be a scientist but immediately lost her license and phd when she started going above some board members heads to buy less than legal things through super illegal sources

.• that’s another thing, kingpin tends to just hire ex cons and criminals to work in his cafe just bc he believes that a person willing to work hard to better themselves deserves a chance to re enter society again.

• like they’ve all done bad things but still ended up with a job at the cafe. aaron fought a cop, liv did some shady deals for an illegal experiment, gargan used to run a drug ring years ago due to personal reasons but once he was free from jail he never dealt with the stuff again, and lonnie killed a dude (allegedly. he never went to jail bc they couldn’t prove anything but hey word spread around quick and everyone knew not to go anywhere near this guy)

• kingpin is in this au btw he’s just……a very depressed man who’s still grieving over his wife and son dying in a car accident

.• he rarely shows up to run the cafe bc its too much for him being in the place that his wife loved and built up from the ground. he used to be the manager after she died but couldn’t handle it and mostly left lonnie to take care of it

• which holy fuck lonnie is trying his best to keep this cafe alive and well and there’s only two other people working there so like its enough to have him scrambling all over the place trying to find more help (thanks aaron)

•miles doesn’t know aaron’s working at the cafe across the street and aaron def wants it that way bc even tho he’s out of jail he hasn’t actually……visited miles yet….. it’s the shame that’s keeping aaron from reaching out to him which is….sad bc miles doesn’t care what happened he just wants his uncle back.

• oh oh one more thing RIPeter used to run the deli across the street but had to leave brooklyn to go volunteer at homeless shelters across the states indefinitely so theres no telling when he’ll be back, so he left the cafe under the guidance of pb parker (peter b parker voice: my cafe now)

•and uhhh thats all i got, like i said this au is just found family trope + the healing we all want + bad people getting redemption which is all the tropes that i love all compacted together in the most cliche au you can imagine!

#itsv #aaron davis #the prowler #liv octavius #doctor octopus #lonnie lincoln #mac gargan #hi i work at a starbucks and it's hell so this is how i cope babey!!#spider verse #spiderman #the life and times of a robot prince

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1112lw · 6 years ago

Note

Every question!!

SDFFSDFG DAM OK SIS

LONG POST AHEAD IF U LITERALLY WANNA KNOW ME PERSONALLY JUST READ THIS LMFAO

1: Name: Arche/Jupiter, my close friends know my real name so!

2: Age: High school has just been done so try to guess

3: Fears: Heights, oral presentations, the dark

4: 3 things I love: Drawing, men- concept art n stuff like that

5: 4 turns on: Oh here we go- uhh thighs, messy hair? when they give u The Look or when they. say things i will not talk about here HHGBDF n uhhh Arms 👀👀

6: 4 turns off: weird macho attitude, overly confident bullshit, being selfish and fuckboys in general

7: My best friend: not sure what this means but my bff is named Daphnée n i love her and ive known her my whole life so

8: Sexual orientation: homosexuale

9: My best first date: :))))))) as if

10: How tall am I: sigh. I’m 5″4

11: What do I miss: sometimes i miss the feeling loved ig

12: What time were I born: 12:19

13: Favourite color: pink!

14: Do I have a crush

15: Favourite quote: My senior quote!! “if what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, I’m telling you I’m immortal”

16: Favourite place: well? my room ig? I like my yard too

17: Favourite food: ugh ramen,,,korean dishes are TASTE as fuck but i also like classic ass spaghetti so like lol

18: Do I use sarcasm: does it look like i dont

19: What am I listening to right now: dr.phil LMFAO

20: First thing I notice in new person: Hair and eyes!! also how they laugh

21: Shoe size: Like. a 7-8 in women’s 6 in men’s

22: Eye color: Hazel/Golden yes bitch let me be special

23: Hair color: it’s either dark brown or golden brown idk

24: Favourite style of clothing: bruv its either kpoppie fuckboy or uwu skirts pastels

25: Ever done a prank call?: no i have anxiety

26: Meaning behind my URL:

27: Favourite movie: rise of the guardians and HTTYD

28: Favourite song: Comeback Home (BTS cover)

29: Favourite band: looks in the camera i dont know nan molla huh

30: How I feel right now: I’m fine im hungry

31: Someone I love: shoutout to my babeys in my server ily

32: My current relationship status: Single(tm)

33: My relationship with my parents: theyre fine ig just a bit tired

34: Favourite holiday:

35: Tattoos and piercing I have: Ear piercings? that’s it

36: Tattoos and piercings I want:

37: The reason I joined Tumblr:

38: Do I and my last ex hate each other? I sure hope not?

39: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? A bit ig?

40: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? Literally no

41: When did I last hold hands? Like last Friday

42: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 20 minutes

43: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? no i havent shaved in like months

44: Where am I right now? in my room, in quebec, canada

45: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? bitch i sure hope my friends would

46: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? fuck my ears

47: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? yeah

48: Am I excited for anything? yeah? yeah

49: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? ig? always

50: How often do I wear a fake smile? just at work tbh

51: When was the last time I hugged someone? not long ago i cant tell but my friends r cuddle monsters so

52: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? i havent kissed anyone so

53: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? lemme think uhhh no not rlly im not dumb

54: What is something I disliked about today? i woke up n i thought i had school lol

55: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? oh john cock i want to be ur best friend

56: What do I think about most? i daydream 24/7

57: What’s my strangest talent? uhhh i can put my thumb behind my hand?

58: Do I have any strange phobias? trypophobia, if thats “weird”

59: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? depends on what the video is, mostly behind

60: What was the last lie I told? idk answering to my deadname

61: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? online

62: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I slightly believe in ghosts? also aliens GOTTA exist so

63: Do I believe in magic? i think!

64: Do I believe in luck? yeah

65: What’s the weather like right now? very pretty i filmed a video outside!!

66: What was the last book I’ve read? L’Étranger d’Albert Camus in french class

67: Do I like the smell of gasoline? yes my dad’s a mechanic

68: Do I have any nicknames? a lot a lot

69: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? bitch @ my birth #neverforget

70: Do I spend money or save it? i have 40$ in my name right now

71: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no

72: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? yes highlighter

73: Favourite animal? cats or otters

74: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? FBISDFD NO WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT

75: What do I think is Satan’s last name idk he can have any last name he wants!!!

76: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? everytime i start hearing “waiting for you anpanman” or “i just wanna go home” 👀👀

77: How can you win my heart? aaahh. be a twink. b fashionable. b funny. cheesy. pls romance me like a npc in the sims 2

78: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? s(he) died smh

79: What is my favorite word? cunt is SUCH a satisfying word

80: My top 5 blogs on tumblr? oh great uh honestly cant be fucked

81: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? please have brain. PLEASE

82: Do I have any relatives in jail? i sure hope the fuck not?

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? either invisibility or mind reading

84: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? ahaaa “what are your intrusive thoughts”

85: What is my current desktop picture? my lesbian sims getting married LMFAO

86: Had sex? no

87: Bought condoms? no

88: Gotten pregnant? NO

89: Failed a class? i think yeah maths last year

90: Kissed a boy? :(((

91: Kissed a girl? no

92: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no

93: Had job? I have a job rn so

94: Left the house without my wallet? yeah when i go to school

95: Bullied someone on the internet? define bullying?

96: Had sex in public? virgin squad

97: Played on a sports team? yeah

98: Smoked weed? no ew

99: Did drugs? no ew

100: Smoked cigarettes? NO EW

101: Drank alcohol? yep

102: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? no i’d die

103: Been overweight? i’m twig

104: Been underweight? i think i was underweight when i was young? i was very Small

105: Been to a wedding? yes very long boring

106: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? bruh. everyday

107: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? probably?

108: Been outside my home country? ONCE

109: Gotten my heart broken? TWICE !

110: Been to a professional sports game? yesss canadians game!!

111: Broken a bone? no

112: Cut myself? not technically

113: Been to prom? SOON SOON SOON SOSOSNSBFSHDD

114: Been in airplane? once

115: Fly by helicopter? i am not rich bitch

116: What concerts have I been to? noneeee- WAIT NO MARIE MAI

117: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? not sex but for the purpose of pretending i have a penis yes plenty

118: Learned another language? yeah!! i learned english, i almost learned spanish and i’m trynna learn korean now

119: Wore make up? i try!! but i’m not super good

120: Lost my virginity before I was 18? not 18 yet but it’s goin that way

121: Had oral sex? as if

122: Dyed my hair? i wishhh

123: Voted in a presidential election? I WISH THE ELECTIONS R ONE MONTH B4 MY BIRTHDAY

124: Rode in an ambulance? nope

125: Had a surgery? yes at a week old

126: Met someone famous? i think yes but i was super small

127: Stalked someone on a social network? define stalked?

128: Peed outside? yes

129: Been fishing? YES

130: Helped with charity? i think? we do volunteering so

131: Been rejected by a crush? not directly

132: Broken a mirror? no

133: What do I want for birthday? boyf......boy..boyff

134: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? oh man uhh maybe 2-3, i dont know their names yet honestly

135: Was I named after anyone? MY DAD NAMED ME AFTER A FUCKIN CLIENT HE MET. as for my actual name now I named myself after my fav video game character. lit

136: Do I like my handwriting? yeah!!

137: What was my favourite toy as a child? bitch hot wheels

138: Favourite Tv Show? hells kitchen,,,,judge judy,,,anythin like that

139: Where do I want to live when older? honestly i wish i could just live in japan or tokyo, or new york? but i will most likely end up in montreal

140: Play any musical instrument? i used to play the clarinet last year!!

141: One of my scars, how did I get it? the one on my knee, i scratched my desk with my knee

142: Favourite pizza toping? my dad makes AMAZING sea food pizzas,,,

143: Am I afraid of the dark? a lot

144: Am I afraid of heights? A LOT

145: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? idk prolly? im a bit of a goody two shoes or however u spell it

146: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end: dont we all

147: What I’m really bad at: organizing my anxiety n shit i get overwhelmed

148: What my greatest achievments are: finishing high school

149: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: honestly has to be that time someone dug up my vent post about being dysphoric to try to say i hated myself with some dumbass DySphorIa Is SelF HaTRed argument

150: What I’d do if I won in a lottery: pay my parents’ debt off, buy 284223$ of BT21 merch, pay my whole college/uni and transition

151: What do I like about myself: idk i like how i literally do not give a fuck anymore and ive learned to love myself instead of trynna care

152: My closest Tumblr friend: @peptobismol-official @ace-landofthesun @dorkalisious and ana but idk her @ anymore :((( ana pls

153: Something I fantasise about: we dont talk about that

154: Any thoughts on the paranormal?: lit. please stop crawling in my ceiling !

ok now that u know my whole biography. go doxx me ig. bye bye

#Arche.txt #asks #ask #long post

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neotericbitch · 6 years ago

Text

a sequel to DarqAnon

part the first

It’s quite abusive, there I said it, how you’re allowed to force a ritual onto a child, whether it be reciting an anthem or staring at the sun, before their brain has developed enough to comprehend the significance. In fact, doing so makes it more likely that as the child grows up, they will never truly find meaning in the action! How sad is that? I’d never force anything on my son.

Growing up, staring into the sun was something I never understood. For a long time I didn’t, I couldn’t conceive of the satisfaction or happiness my family derived from it. It meant something to them, so they tried to teach it to me, but it never meant anything to me. I understood that the sun was their god, but because I never truly believed, I couldn’t grasp how or why it would be important to them to stare up at it, burning their eyeballs out of their sockets. Their god was sending a clear message, do not look at me. Why would they do it anyway?

Oh, but - do keep in mind that that’s all in the past. I understand now. I understand perfectly.

Valkyrie Cain has the most brilliant black eyes. Truly, her every feature is marvellous, her sharp nose, her expressive mouth - but I always go back to the eyes. For Crandall, it’s her hands. They’ve shared many times over many meetings, to the point where I find it very annoying, that they want nothing more than to feel her hands on the sides of their head before she crushes it. I think it’s a nice little fantasy to have, just stop telling us about it. I have only ever shared what I wanted two, maybe three times. That’s an acceptable amount of times! Any more is overdoing it, Crandall! Crandall, I know you’re listening. I’ve been able to feel it even when a very good Sensitive is in my head, Crandall, and you are not a very good Sensitive.

Beside me they turn their head away. Why would they want to listen to my thoughts, anyway, when Valkyrie is here? I suppose I understand their hesitance. Darquesse, goodness - Darquesse wouldn’t stand for anyone hearing her thoughts, absolutely not! To attempt it on her would be a high offence. But Crandall, if you’re still listening, I’d say go ahead for the time being. Darquesse isn’t here. Not yet.

Looking at her, it all makes sense. I want to call up my mother and tell her I understand, I understand wanting - needing! - to look at something, even if it does not want you to. The sun may try to blind you. Valkyrie may glare and scream and curse. But you simply cannot look away.

I cannot call up my mother, of course. She has been dead for a hundred years, and I’m busy right now - and I don’t think there’s mobile phone reception here anyway.

For this week’s Thursday meeting, 6 to 7:30, we have made a temporary move from the community hall to the vault, generously donated for DA’s use by Nicki, who we had to murder. Dear girl, she didn’t want to let me hold the meeting here this week. I suggested it at the end of last week’s meeting and everyone was very excited. A hundred meters beneath the spot where Darquesse opened her portal to another dimension and disappeared - we’re so lucky to have this place! Of course everyone wants to come here whenever we have the opportunity! But Nicki said no. Nicki said to me, “Isserley, these meetings have been really great, you are a good organiser and I’m very happy to have met everyone, but I think what you’re planning is wrong. Please return the vault key to me.” So we had to kill her.

And here we are tonight, and I almost wish Nicki were here so I could say, to think you didn’t want this! The meeting is going very well, I think it’s our best one yet. 6:40 and we’re just about to finish setting up, we’re a neat little group of people. We won’t go over time at all! I’d like to say that I, being an incredibly organised person, have been a good influence on my fellow DA-goers.

Salma finishes painting the symbol on the ground. Her designs are ugly, but she has a steady hand and knows how best to use the petrol paste, a very special concoction. No one else could have done this job - though I must admit, I am a bit envious. Easy, Isserley! Remember, your job is the most important. Without you, this wouldn’t work. Without you, Valkyrie would not even be here.

Salma reaches for Valkyrie. She thrashes wildly - and I can’t say I blame her! I wouldn’t want Salma to touch me, either! Haha. But it really won’t do for her to behave this way, we really need her complete cooperation, so I motion to Respite at the wall and he turns the crank, tightening the chains attached to the bound cuffs at her every limb. She is pulled tight, and by the sounds of it it’s not a very comfortable experience, but now she is tense and mostly still - perfect for Salma to draw the symbol on her wrists and stomach.

She puts up a hell of a fight when Respite disconnects the chains from the wall and reconnects them to the floor, at each corner of where the symbol has been painted so she is now seated in the centre. I can’t help but smile! She reminds me of one of those beautiful shrine maidens. If only I’d thought of that earlier. I would have put this off one more week and gotten an outfit made. But the clothes she put on herself this morning are more than lovely. Darquesse will like them. Darquesse will like being back.

Valkyrie keeps straining and trying to get up, the poor dear! I wish I could go over there and pat her face, like I used to pat my son’s when he was resisting me - I wish I could tell her everything will be alright. But I know, even chained and without magic, she could certainly find a way to kill me if I were within reach. And I don’t want her to kill me until the ritual is complete, of course! Otherwise what would be the point?

“I don’t even know,” Valkyrie growls - what a good word for it! Indeed, she is doing her very best to sound deep, dark and scary. Soon it will come naturally. “I don’t even know what you think this will do. It’s not a full moon, or a blood moon, or any kind of moon. It’s not a magical day, it’s not a holiday, it’s not even a day that means anything to me.”

It’s my birthday, but don’t tell anyone that. It’s my special little secret, my gift to myself.

“This sigil is totally made-up. It’s not going to do anything.” She tries to raise her hand to her face to wipe off some sweat, but the chain is too short. “Let me go and I’ll make it quick - because when Skulduggery gets here, he certainly fucking won’t.”

I crouch down to be on her level, and I’m filled with such...reverence. I understand. I understand. This is what I was supposed to feel kneeling in the sweltering heat for hours on end. I’m glad I feel it here instead.

“You will kill us,” I say. “But we’re not going to uncuff you, you’ll do that yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” She is so exasperated and so irritated and so wonderful. “These cuffs are bound. It doesn’t matter how great you think I am, I’m not that strong.”

“You will be! You will be.” In the corner of my vision I see Salma fidgeting. Salma!!! You’re ruining this!! To make her stop, I gesture at her so she can speak and stop annoying everyone with her movements.

“The sigil you’re sitting on,” she fires off in her horrible, grating voice, “and the sigils that are on you are my own designs. Just because you haven’t seen them before doesn’t mean they won’t work. They’ll work.” Her lip trembles and she bows her head. “I’m sorry you don’t...believe in me.”

Valkyrie stares for a moment. “You’re completely nuts.” Nuts! Aah! That’s the word I use to describe her! How exciting!

“They’ll work, I swear. I promise. We only need to activate them, and...” Salma looks to me. Unfortunately, I have to stand up now and go back to looking down on Valkyrie. It’s okay, though. It’s okay. Soon she’ll be looking down on me.

For now, she doesn’t look at me at all. She looks down at where she’s put her arms on her knees, wrists facing out. Perhaps Supreme Mage Sorrows once gave her a lesson on what certain strokes can mean, perhaps she’s trying to work out how to counteract our symbol.

She’s fabulous and smart, yes, but she won’t be able to work it out. I am confident. I snap my fingers, summoning a bright, orange flame into my hand. She lifts her head, looks me directly in the eye, and I smile widely. Very widely. Not widely enough. I hope, before Darquesse kills me, she at least takes the time to appreciate what I’m doing for her. I hope she recognises how much I love her. No - I don’t hope. I know. She will. She must.

I take a step forward and crouch again, reaching my hand out to the edge of the symbol on the ground. My flame will catch onto the petrol paste and spread immediately. Valkyrie will be burned, but only a little bit! Just a little bit. Long enough for the fire to catch the symbols on her skin, and she will be protected - and Darquesse will be summoned back into her. She will be complete again.

Before my flame touches the paste, Valkyrie shoots her hand out and smudges the line, which gives me just about the fright of my life! Thank goodness I have such incredible reflexes, otherwise I wouldn’t have jerked my hand away in time. The paste would have caught on fire and surely burned her to death! She rubs her wrists together, wiping away the symbols written there, then kicks her legs out from under her so she’s in a more traditional butt-to-ground position, but that means she’s made the ground symbol worse and displaced dirt into my face.

It’s hard to love her when she has literally blinded me. That whole thing about the sun and everything, it was more of a metaphor. I still love her of course! I’m only taken aback. Anything I may say as I fall backwards isn’t really my fault, since she’s the one who kicked dirt in my eyes. It's more of my reflexes. I never would say anything of the sort to her under normal circumstances. Never.

“You bitch!”

What an inconvenience. I don’t get to see any of what happens next! I only hear the door flying open and gunshots, the sounds of my people yelling and trying to fight. Punches, kicks, bodies falling to the ground. When I hear Salma scream and feel her blood land on my face, I can’t help it! I can’t help it but think, serves you right for putting a cent in the collection tray every week!

“Skulduggery, the-”

“Valkyrie. Are you alright?” Is that him getting on his knees? Maybe he understands after all. “Are you hurt?”

“My skin’s burning, let me loose so I can get this shit off me. The crank on the wall, I think that controls the cuffs.”

I roll onto my side and wipe the dirt from my eyes. I hear Pleasant at the wall, turning the crank back and hitting the release. It’s terribly uncomfortable, but I can open my eyes and see well enough - and what I see is Crandall dead next to me! It’s such a shock, my heart skips at least three beats. That rotten Pleasant. What a barbarian. I lift my head as carefully as I can, so I won’t be noticed. Valkyrie has lifted her shirt to get the symbol off her stomach and cannot see me.

This is so unfair. I put so much work into this plan. It was so hard to trap her! I was going to bring Darquesse back. Me. Not Crandall, not Salma. Not Nicki. Her black eyes would have bored into my skull and killed me and I would have been good and happy. Huh! Maybe I'm not too different to those Faceless worshippers who go blowing themselves up in public places.

“Isserley. I thought that was you.” Pleasant. Pleasant is talking to me. “How have you been?”

Valkyrie snaps her head up at him. “You know her?”

“We’ve seen her in the High Sanctuary.”

“Jesus. Is there anyone you don’t remember.”

“No.” He reaches out and wipes the rest of the symbol off her stomach in one motion. I have dirt in my eyes but I see how her tummy kind of curls in a bit as she drops her shirt down.

That should be me. That should be me. I love her more than anyone. I burst into tears.

“She tried to set me on fire.”

“I think a list of people who haven’t tried to set you on fire would be shorter than a list of those who have.” I hear the clink of handcuffs. “Come on, now, Isserley.”

I let my head drop back onto the ground and stare up at the ceiling. I do not take one more look at Valkyrie. I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy. I failed. “Why don’t you just kill me.” I’m not even aware of myself saying it, to be honest! Just one of those things that...slips out...

“She makes a good point, Skulduggery.”

“Can’t be done. We should leave at least one cultist alive to arrest, so why not take the woman in charge?”

“How do you know she’s the one in charge?”

His terrible skull fills my vision as he looks down at me. You know, hearing him talk this much at one time has jogged my memory. And he does happen to wear very beautiful suits. My mouth falls open. “You’re-”

Valkyrie was startled for a moment by the sudden gunshot. Shoulders tensed, she looked over to Skulduggery standing over the woman, gun still pointed into a face that didn’t really exist anymore.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked as he put the revolver away. Skulduggery came over to her and brushed some hair out of her face, went back to fussing over the injuries she sustained on her way here.

“Too talkative,” he said, and she laughed and teased him about being a hypocrite.

#skulduggery pleasant #thanks for subscribing

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chibinightowl · 7 years ago

Text

Bakery AU, Part IX

One more chapter to go...

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

~*~

“Tell me what?”

Tim’s heart starts to race, a last ditch effort by his body to give him the brainpower needed to get the words out of his mouth. He takes hold of Jason’s hand and removes it from his chin, but he doesn’t let it go. “I know you’re Redwing.”

To his credit, Jason doesn’t even flinch. “Right,” he drawls. “Tim, I think you’re a little sleep deprived.”

“Oh, I am,” Tim agrees. He forges on. “But I know I’m right.”

“Really? How so?”

“Because I figured out that Dick Grayson was Robin when I was nine years old.”

Jason’s grip on his hand tightens, the only sign his words are affecting him at all. “Okay, suppose I buy this tale. How did you figure it out?”

Tim launches into a story that has never once passed his lips. About how as a young boy he went to the circus with his parents and met an acrobat who promised to do a quadruple somersault just for him. He spoke of how that night ended in tragedy, with the acrobat’s parents falling to their deaths when their ropes snapped. “I kept tabs on Dick after I heard Mr. Wayne took him in. Sometimes I saw him at society events it was okay for kids to attend. When I was nine, I caught a clip on one of those paparazzi TV shows of Robin. They were running a brief segment on local urban myths. The video was absolute crap even if they did try to clean it up, but it wasn’t the person I recognized. It was what he did that struck me the most.”

“What did he do?” Jason prods when Tim pauses to gather his thoughts.

“He did a quadruple somersault. There’s only person in the world who can do it. Dick Grayson. After I figured that out, the rest was easy.” Tim bites his lip, stopping the flow of words.

There. He’d done it. No going back now.

Jason places his hands on Tim’s shoulders, holding him firmly in place as he stares intently at him. “Are you telling me a nine year old boy figured out one of the most closely guarded secrets on the planet?”

Tim nods. “If you’re referring to Batman, yes. He goes to great pains to hide it. Superman on the other hand…a pair of glasses? Really?”

A heavy hand covers his mouth faster than Tim can blink. “I think that’s enough tonight. You’re tired and obviously getting to the point where you’re not thinkin’ straight.”

What? Tim stiffens and jerks himself away from Jason. “You think I’m making this all up? I’m exhausted, but I’m not stupid. Jason, I have never, ever, spoken about this to anyone before. If you don’t believe me, fine. I was trying to be honest with you, because if you want whatever this is between us to work, then you need to be honest with me.”

“I don’t think this is the time or place to be having this conversation. You don’t have a door right now, remember?”

Tim’s mouth snaps shut. Son of a bitch. Had he been speaking too loudly? He doesn’t think so, but Jason is right. All that’s keeping the rest of the world out of his little shop is a piece of plastic. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right. I’m just…”

“You’re tired, Tim.” Jason hauls him back in and plants a tender kiss on his forehead. “Go take a nap. I’ll finish cleaning this up.”

There isn’t anything Tim can do but nod. He’s blown it. He knows he has. Goddammit, why did he say it? Had he really misread things so badly? What’s going to happen now? Jason would be fully within his rights to never see him again after this little bomb. Fuck.

Tim lets Jason direct him into the kitchen and, under his watchful eye, gets his blanket and pillow out of the storage bin. Jason doesn’t comment about it, which says a lot about where this is all heading. He makes a little pallet under his desk and lays down. Through bleary eyes Tim watches Jason turn off the light and close the door, leaving it open just a crack. This is the last time he’s going to see Jason, he knows it. It hurts so bad that he doesn’t want the same thing as him.

So much for that gamble.

As Tim falls into a fitful sleep, he swears that he hears the low tone of Jason’s voice speaking to someone. “B? You won’t believe what I just heard…”

~*~*~

The next day Tim decides is quite possibly one of the worst he’s had in a while. Jason is gone when he wakes up to the alarm the man apparently set for him. No note, no nothing, not that Tim expects anything after the mess he made of things last night.

Stephanie tries to get the story out of him when she arrives an hour later with breakfast and coffee, but he refuses to say a word other than that he and Jason had a disagreement. This isn’t something Steph can help with. It’s all his fault.

“Do I need to call him and tell him to stop being an ass?” the blonde asks pointedly.

Tim loves that her loyalty is unwaveringly with him even if she doesn’t know all the details. “No, I’m pretty sure this is all on me.”

“Oh, Tim.” Steph wraps her arms around him and holds him tight. “Are you guys done then?”

He sighs into her freshly washed hair. God, he has to stink to high heaven at this point. “I don’t know.”

Steph squeezes him, then draws back, hands still on his arms as she gives him a serious look. “You know what’s going to make you feel better?”

“The ability to rewind the last twelve or so hours?”

“A shower. Go home, Tim. Get cleaned up, and for God’s sake, brush your teeth.”

Tim laughs weakly because what else can he do? He put himself out there and got rejected.

This is why he doesn’t date. It always hurts when things fall apart.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. It takes a few phone calls to get someone out on a Saturday to replace his door, and as soon as that was done, Tim calls it a day. He and Stephanie already have a plan in place to get things back up and running tomorrow, even if it will take at least a week to get a new display case. That’s fine, they can still take the truck out and Tim can set out a tray with a single cupcake of each design for any walk-ins to choose from while keeping the rest in back. They can make this work. Gotham and a broken heart are not going to keep Tim Drake down.

As he walks home in the late afternoon sun, Tim decides to allow himself one night to wallow in his misery. He deserves that much. A quick stop by the store gets him a six pack of his favorite microbrew and he swings by a Chinese restaurant that makes what he swears are the best noodles in town. Literally, since they make their noodles right there.

Properly fortified, Tim brings his prizes home. Another shower and a change of clothes later, he settles onto his sofa to binge watch Netflix. There are some shows he needs to catch up on.

He does not think about Jason. Much.

Three hours later, he’s finished half his stir-fried noodles and three bottles of beer. Sleep sounds like a great idea, lightweight that he is, so Tim manages to put away his food before returning to the sofa where he puts on a BBC nature documentary to fall asleep to.

He cuddles under his afghan and is out in under a minute.

~*~*~

It’s late when Tim wakes up. He feels like he should still be asleep, but something has drawn him out of that sweet oblivion where he doesn’t think about Jason. Everything is quiet, so he decides it must be his faintly hurting head that woke him. Some headache meds and water will fix that, as will sleeping in his bed rather than the living room.

Tim opens his eyes blearily as he sits up. Then he opens them wider and jerks upright, the afghan pooling around his waist.

Standing in front of his muted TV is Batman, outlined by the glow of the screen behind him.

Oh, shit. Why…Oh. Oh. Jason must have told him everything. Of course, he would, the little bomb Tim dropped on him last night impacts everything his family works so hard for. God, how could he have been so thoughtless?

His inner fanboy cowers in the corner of his mind, wailing in fear even though Tim is reasonably certain Batman won’t actually hurt him. Scare the crap out of him, yes. Intimidate him, hell yes. This is very intimidating, yup. Babbling seems like a stupid thing to do right about now, so Tim keeps his mouth shut and waits for Batman to say something.

And waits.

Seriously? Is he waiting for Tim to speak up first? He has not had enough sleep for this. Tim shoves the afghan off his lap and swings his legs to the floor. “Would you like some coffee? If you’re just going to stand there, then I’m going to need some.”

Batman doesn’t move. If anything, he frowns harder without even moving his face.

Now there’s a trick Tim would love to learn. He makes his way into the kitchen and flips on the overhead light by the sink to see by. Coffee prep is something he could do in his sleep, so while the little pot is brewing, Tim takes two mugs out of the cabinet and sets them on the counter.

“Do you take cream or sugar?” he calls out, not really expecting an answer.

He doesn’t get one.

Black it is.

Tim pours two cups and returns to the living room. He doesn’t try and hand Batman his cup, but he does place it on the coffee table in front of him before sitting back down on the sofa. This is by far the strangest interview he’s ever been part of. It must be a neat trick, using your reputation to get everything you need to know out of a person without having to say a word.

This could go on all night. “What do you want to know?” Tim asks eventually.

“Start from the beginning.” Batman’s voice is a low growl, one that makes Tim’s throat hurt just listening to it.

So Tim starts there, telling Batman how he met Dick, the promised quadruple somersault, and the tragedy that occurred later. He tells him about how he kept tabs on the former acrobat through the news, that he just wanted to be sure the boy was happy. Then he tells him what happened when he was nine… “I’m not sure there are many people who could have made that connection,” he admits slowly. “I mean, sure, the people at the circus probably can if they ever happen to see Robin, or Nightwing now, do that. But outside of there? I don’t think I would have if I hadn’t been there that night and saw it myself.” As well as everything that happened after, but there’s no need to rehash that again.

“You were very young.”

Tim nods. “I was almost four. My mom always said I have a mind like a steel trap. That when something goes in, it’s not coming out. I think that’s part of the reason why I didn’t forget. I couldn’t, even if I’d wanted to.” He sips his coffee, debating about the next part. This is where he could get into some serious trouble.

Well, this is supposed to be a confession of sorts. And it does feel good to get everything off his chest after holding it so close for years.

“When I figured out who was under Robin’s mask, I decided I needed to see Dick in action again for myself. We lived in the city, and Mom and Dad were never around much, so it was easy to sneak out…” Tim tells Batman about how he used to map his and Robin’s patrol routes, how he would hide and wait half the night for even a glimpse of his hero. As he got better and grew more confident, that was when he started bringing a camera.

If Batman was rigid before, then those words made him even more so.

“Those first photos were horrible,” Tim admits with a wry shake of his head. “It took a lot of practice to learn how to shoot at night, just as it took a lot of trial and error to learn to develop my own pictures because these were not something I wanted to take to the convenience store and have just anyone see. But I got better and by the time I did, there was a new Robin.”

Jason. The Robin he got all the best photos of.

“I took my pictures for a little over three years,” Tim continues. “And then my parents were murdered in a botched kidnapping. My life was turned upside down for a time, but when it became clear that I was going to end up in foster care since I had no family to take me in, I knew I couldn’t keep any of those pictures. I couldn’t risk it, even if no one knows the faces beneath those masks.”

“What did you do?”

“I took them up to the roof of my parent’s townhouse and burned them. Each and every one.” It still hurt, even after a decade and more having passed. But it hurt like ripping off a bandaid hurt, and no longer tore at his soul. “All my negatives, I soaked in bleach.”

Batman gestures to the pictures hanging on the walls. The black and white photos are taken from various angles high above Gotham. “You didn’t stop taking pictures completely.”

Tim shakes his head. “No, but I didn’t take those until I’d graduated from culinary school and had my own place. I like photography, it’s something I’m good at. But it’s a hobby now. A skill I can put to use in my shop for my website.”

“You understand the concerns I have.” It isn’t a question and Tim doesn’t pretend to take it as such.

Still, he knows he’s expected to answer. “I do. Honestly, I wasn’t planning to say a word about this to Jason at all. Until last night, I thought what we had was just a mutually beneficial arrangement between two consenting adults. He’d never given me a reason to believe otherwise.”

“Until last night,” Batman states, echoing Tim’s words. “Why did you tell him this?”

Tim hedges and sips his coffee as he tries to gather his thoughts. For all that opening his mouth had been a mistake, the reason why he did hasn’t changed. On that one fact, he still feels like he’s on solid ground.

“Because last night he said he cares about me. That what keeps him coming back is me.” No need to mention the frosting part. Nope. “I’ve known for a little while now that I like him more than what our arrangement calls for. I figured that if he wants a real relationship, then he has a right to what I know so that he doesn’t have to lie to me when the shit hits the fan or he gets all battered and bruised and needs to cancel plans we’ve made. I can’t imagine it’s easy for anyone who tries to date one of you guys.”

“It isn’t. Especially for someone like you who cannot protect himself.”

The implication is clear as day. Tim tightens his fingers around his warm mug. “I know I’m putting myself in harm’s way if Jason and I keep seeing each other. I know I can be used against him or as a means to hurt him. I know all of this. But isn’t it up to us to decide if that’s a chance we want to take?”

“Yeah, B, stop stickin’ your nose in our business.”

Tim almost spills his coffee as Jason comes striding around from behind the sofa in full Redwing regalia. It’s an impressive sight, from the battered leather jacket to the dark gray uniform underneath that fits him like a glove. How long has he been here? Oh, shit, what has he heard? Tim tells himself to get a grip. Everything he’s said to Batman is stuff he plans to tell Jason, if the other man ever gives him a chance.

He’s here though, so that has to mean something. Right?

Batman doesn’t move, but it’s clear when he turns his attention on his son because that weighted gaze no longer sits like a ton of bricks on Tim. “I am trying to ascertain what this man’s intentions are towards all of us.”

Jason snorts incredulously. “No, you’re trying to be a dad for a change and scare away a potential boyfriend. B, Tim knows and hasn’t said a word to anyone. Do you have any idea how much easier this makes things for me? I don’t have to fucking lie for a change.”

Tim clutches his coffee mug, afraid to make even the slightest of noises for fear of interrupting what is clearly a very important argument. Inside, his heart sings with joy because Jason is fighting with Batman for him. If that’s not a sign from the heavens, he doesn’t know what is.

“What happens if it doesn’t work out?” Batman says to Jason. “Think about the damage Tim can do in a single moment of petty spite.”

“I’d never do that,” Tim interrupts. This is something he has to speak up about. “What you guys do is so much bigger than anything I deal with. You’re important. You all mean something to the world. For however long this lasts between Jason and me, I’m glad to be able to support him in whatever way I can. And when it ends, well, I’ll at least know that for a time, I made him happy. Because I can’t imagine you guys get that a lot.”

Both men turn and stare at Tim, heavy and weighted and wow, this must be the same feeling that makes bad guys quiver in their shoes. But Tim holds firm and doesn’t drop his gaze.

“B, you’re done here,” Jason finally announces. “You got what you came for. Tim won’t spill the beans. Now get out.”

“Redwing—”

“Get outta my business, B. I can either air dirty laundry about you and Catwoman or toss you out that window. Take your pick.”

Batman looms over his son, but Jason is clearly having none of it as he just stares him down. All the long years of exposure must make him immune. Tim finds that impressive because wow. Just wow.

That heavy gaze settles back on him for a moment before Batman walks away without another word, brushing past the sofa towards the window leading out to the fire escape. Tim feels a faint rush of cold air on his neck and then nothing. He turns around to look, just to be sure. The only thing he sees is the faint movement of his cheap window blinds.

“So that’s what being interrogated by Batman feels like.”

Jason snorts and picks up the coffee Batman never even touched. “Sort of. There’s usually a lot more punching and getting tossed off the side of a building involved.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tim feels faint at the thought. Although jumping off the side of a building doesn’t sound too bad if he’s with the right person…kind of like skydiving perhaps.

An awkward silence falls over the room, neither of them seemingly able to start the conversation that needs to happen. Tim fiddles with his mug and steals glances at Jason, who seems lost in thought as he drinks the not-so-warm coffee. What’s going on in his head? How does Jason feel about all this? He apparently likes the idea of him knowing who he is if his statement to Batman was legit.

Tim takes a deep breath and breaks the ice. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. I followed B here and snuck in through your bedroom while he loomed over you like a creepy fuck until you woke up.”

“How long did that take?”

Jason chuckles quietly. “About half an hour. Color me impressed.”

“I may have had a few beers earlier tonight.”

“Lightweight,” Jason teases, but there’s a fondness to it. “You were quite the little stalker once upon a time, weren’t ya?”

Tim nods, feeling steadier now that they’re talking about his past. “I guess you could call it that. At the time though, I was so incredibly lonely that sneaking out for even a glimpse of my heroes was enough to negate the creep factor.”

Jason walks around the coffee table and takes a seat in the recliner. Under the jacket, Tim can just make out the stylized red bat on his broad chest. “You’ve mentioned before that your parents were never around that much.”

“No, they weren’t.” Tim takes a sip from his mug. It’s almost empty. “I had a hard time mourning for people who were never there. I got lucky when I was placed with Grandma Ives. She gets kids in a way I’d never seen before. Probably because she had six of her own, plus over a dozen grandkids. She helped me figure out what my grief was really about and gave me something constructive to do while I worked my way through it.”

“She the one who taught you to bake?”

“Yes.” Tim has many fond memories of Grandma Ives. Perhaps one day, he can introduce Jason to her.

“Did you really take all those pictures of me?” The question seemingly comes out of left field, but Tim has a feeling it’s a precursor to something bigger.

“I did.”

“Is it… Is this the reason you want to be with me?” Jason gestures to his uniform, to the mask he’s still wearing.

Tim is shaking his head before Jason finishes speaking. “No. Not at all. In the beginning, I was shocked that someone like you even spared a glance in my direction. I kept telling myself not to look too deeply into it, to not get attached, that we were both getting something we needed. But when we went out for dinner to that bar, it felt like a date. I wanted it to be a real date so badly that I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t.”

Jason sighs heavily and leans forward, his solid arms resting on his thickly muscled thighs. “I think of that night as a date. It was all so clear in my head what I was doing, sweeping you off your feet and romancing the crap out of you, but in hindsight, I can see why you believed what you did.” He sounds defeated, which no. No. Tim is not letting this happen.

Standing, Tim sets aside his coffee and kneels in front of Jason, resting his hands over the man’s gloved ones and forcing him to look at him. This close, the lenses in his mask are disconcerting, but Tim knows Jason’s eyes are on him. “We’re both idiots,” he pronounces. “Doing everything ass backwards from the way we should have.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked up,” Jason tries, but Tim shushes him.

“Me neither. But I think we have a good reason to want to do this right. If you want to, that is.” Tim trails off, his momentary boldness tapering into uncertainty.

Jason grabs hold of his hands, holding them firmly in his gloved ones. “I want to. Christ, I want to. But the risks…Tim, already the thought of something happening to you hurts like hell. If we go further…”

Tim raises their joined hands and presses a kiss into the material of Jason’s gloves. “I understand. Just know that I’m willing to take those risks. But really, the choice is yours, not mine. What you do, who you are…it’s all so much bigger than just me.” His confidence shocks him, even if it is nice to know he can bring it out when he needs to, despite the less than stellar circumstances.

“I need some time to think.”

“I respect that.” Tim tries to stand, but Jason rises along with him and draws him in close, pressing his forehead against the top of Tim’s head.

“Tim, this isn’t good-bye. I will let you know what I decide. And in person because you deserve that much, even if it’s not what either of us want.”

It’s more than Tim can reasonably expect. “I appreciate it.”

Jason pulls back a bit and runs his fingers over Tim’s cheeks, seemingly memorizing the planes of his face. “I’ll see you soon.” He leans in and presses a brief kiss against Tim’s mouth.

And then he’s gone, vanishing into the night.

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #JayTim #Bakery!AU

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