#I made his sleeves loose and exposing his scars. While Nightmare's arms are covered. It's meant to be a detail showing the power imbalance

[honey-bell-aint-well]

Please don't tag as ship.

descent

I didn't intend this to look suggestive. So if it does, please ignore that.

Don't worry, this is only 60% vent art. The rest of it was me trying different brushes and adding details I thought would either look good or add layers to the picture.

[The thing around Killer's neck is a tentacle, not his shirt collar. Just in case anyone was wondering why the shirt collar looked strange.]

[I'm actually pretty proud of this drawing. But if I had to redo it, I would try to make it more obvious that Killer isn't enjoying this.]

[awakeningofthedeath]

Awakening of the Death Chapter #10

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Jack returned to the apartments where he took Hellen to her room and laid her upon the bed. She was still holding the table cloth, and noticed that she fell asleep in his arms minutes before. Jack went over to Hellen’s presser and pulled out a long sleeve shirt that looked loose enough for her to sleep in. He went back to the bed and sat next to her, with her back towards him. Jack didn’t want Hellen to lay half naked in shame, yet he never wanted to invade her territory of privacy.

Still facing Hellen’s back, Jack gently lifted her body, the tablecloth slipped down; yet Jack had to focus on something to keep his focus. He noticed Hellen’s left ear, and decided to look upon that as he helped her get into a shirt. His stomach sank as he noticed how torn it was, with small long white scars in the back as if an animal tied biting her. When he finished putting on her shirt, Jack laid her upon the pillow, his hand supporting her head. Yet as he looked upon her. Jack hated seeing a strong woman like Hellen being broken and realized she had always been broken just from since her father, Jeremiah's death. 

As he moved his hand away from underneath, Jack traced the torn ear with his two fingers, feeling the rough edges. But the feeling must of caused Hellen great alertness as she stood upward and alert as she punched Jack in the face, breathing heavily. 

“What the hell ere you doing?” Hellen screamed.

Jack rubbed his cheek where Hellen punched him. He looked up to say “I was only hel...”

“Just because you took me out of that hellish nightmare don’t give you the damn right to try and fuck me...” Hellen’s eyes watered with hot tears again. She rubbed them quickly.

Jack tried to talk to her but she refused but throwing a book at him. "Stay away from me!" Jack dodged the book and looked at Hellen. He only nodded and left the room. When after he shut the door, he heard the door being locked from Hellen’s side.

Jack lowered himself to the floor and rubbed his face. He thought about the days events, and what had almost happened to her. He clearly understood the phycological hell that she was possibly facing now. A feeling Jack knew too well. As he opened his eyes, Jack noticed a trail of red across his chest. Blood trailed out from his torn jacket exposing his chest, showing a long thin would that he must of received from Johnathan when fighting him off from Hellen. As Jack removed his jacket and cleaned his wounds, he understood why he felt Hellen’s pain inside out. He remembered the feeling of her hot salty tears streaming together into his wound as blood came pouring out slowly, merging into a river of sorrow of blood in the tears of two broken souls. As Jack looked at his hands, he vowed to himself that he would not go near her unless she requests to, or completely necessary.

The following days were long and hard for Hellen, for Jack would try to get her to come out of her room, only to have her yelling at him to leave. Still, he would leave food for her, to his relief she would always take it and leave the dishes out. She would occasionally come out to clean up and use the lavatory, but barely talked to Jack but only two words.

As for the jacket and the laundry, he took the bundle of clothes to the wash lady  few doors down, and when she saw his torn jacket, she insisted that she’d repair it free of charge. When Jack mentioned that he didn’t had other clothes, she lended him some of her son’s clothes that he never used anymore. “White has always been an appalling color to him.” She told Jack. “I think it makes a man look pure and intimidating if you ask me.” She took a sniff of his jacket, the woman almost gagged. “Merciful Lord above, when was the last you washed this? No matter, I’ll be washing it anyway dear. Please give my love to that lassie of yours. The poor thing, I could only imagine what hell she went through.”

When Jack tried on the jacket, he looked upon the mirror to see that the shirt really did made him intimidating, helping him sculpt his body, and was surprisingly light on him. It even made his skin look more tan standing out against the white cotton. 

Wonder if Hellen would like it? He thought as he touched the mirror.

 One day however, Jack notice Hellen didn't came out from her room to get the dishes of food he left for her. Concerned, Jack knocked on the door, he didn't hear Hellen saying anything, but he was sure Hellen heard him. Jack feeling something is wrong with her. He lightly turned the handle, only to find it still locked. So he climb up the roof from the outside and went to her window to open it, and he did with success. 

He found Hellen was sleep at her bed. She covering all her body with a heavy blanket. Jack walk close to her, he saw her face is very red and sweaty; Her breathing labored. He put his hand to her forehead. The skin was so hot that it heated his fingers inches away from her skin to his. Hellen was in a high fever.

Jack clenched his fist. That damn freak! Hellen didn’t deserve this! It was clear that Hellen was in high stressed, she must of gotten sick over the week since the attempted rape.

He found the skeleton key that opened the bedroom the door and brought a small towel, a bowl filled with icy water, and a glass of water to drink. Jack returned to the room and sat on a stool next to Hellen. He dipped the towel into icy water and compressed to her forehead to reduce her heat, as if tending a sick child in bed. Leading to memories of his mother when she tended to him

Hellen needs some nutrition for fight the virus, Jack was thought. He went to the kitchen and made some hot tea. He brought it back to the room and aided Hellen, trying to get her to drink. 

 Jack was extremely gentle with her, as he held her head and tried to make Hellen drink the tea. She coughed as the tea nearly choked her. "Easy now, you’ll be fine, Hellen. I got you now." Jack whispering while he tried again to get her to drink. Jack tried again until she drink all of the tea, stroking the auburn hair. It was so soft to the touch as his fingers followed the curves of each curl.

"You need this drink to recover, Hellen. Come on! Don't let me fail you now!" Jack pleaded quietly while he keep hold Hellens head. Hellen groaned; yet she knew she had to drink it. She grabs his hand for support as she drank the remaining tea, feeling his callused hands, gripping into his fingers for dear life as she gazed at him in a feverish look as she fell asleep.

Jack heard someone's knocked the front door. He let go of Hellen’s hand and he walk over to open the door. He saw two of men from the Dark Horses standing there, looking bloody from a beating. "What is it...?" Jack ask. "It's David, boss! David! Johnathan’s bother! He came into our headquarters and started killed a couple of our friends there! He was looking for you Jack. Help us!"

Jack clenched his fist. “Damn it” He cursed. “Hold on, I’ll be right there, keep the men away from him and the locals inside their homes.”

He back inside to grab his hidden blade and a few knifes. He saw Hellen asleep in the bed still. He covering her with a blanket and stroke hr cheek feeling the heat of her head. "I will be back before nightfall." He leave a some of bread on bed side table in case if Hellen hungry. Then he took his robes from when the laundry lady repaired it and ran to the headquarters.

David was screaming a war cry as he killed another member of the Dark Horses, his hands, chest, and face was covered in blood. He killed two of rooks with a force vengeance as they tried to restrain him in vain. 

"Where is your boss now huh?” He yelled. “Tell me where he is! I challenge him to a fight!" His eyes were full of rage and revenge. Other members tried to stop him; but he would kill them off. He grabbed a young woman who was a member, turned her back to his chest and placed his knife to her throat. "I will give you more 5 minutes, if you cannot bring your leader here now, I will kill this bitch! And I will kill every rooks here on every 5 minutes of him being absent!"

Jack watched him from above the rooftop of a building, he took a leap of faith into a haystack and merged himself out. 

“Let the girl go. I am here. I will except your challenge.

The woman chocked when David tightened his grip around her “You killed my brother you son of a bitch! I will avenge him now. But he needs a  woman! This seems like a candidate for the afterlife bride for him” David move his hand to slice her throat, but before it happen, Jack grabbed his hand. David saw Jack glared at him viciously. Jack twisted his hand to the area which impossible for hand reach, locked his hand from behind. David cried out, feeling the pain, he drop the knife and let lose of the grip on the woman, she stumbled out of the way and looked at amazement as Jack threatens David.

Jack tighten his locked until the bone cracked, David screamed for he couldn’t stand for the pain. He bent down, almost kneel in front of Jack. “Who… Who the hell are you?” David panting, his sweat covered all his face, frightening. Jack only smirk. 

Then Jack hit David face so fast and hard, until his body hit the walls behind him. David knocked out. All the members cheered. Two members dragged him away. Jack stood over and spat on David.

 The woman who was saved by Jack walk close to him as he started to head back to the apartment. “Thank you, for saving my life, boss” She said in a quiet voice. Jack only nodded as he turned his back, walk away from the crowd, heading back home.

All the members murmured and gossiped on the events that happened as they removed bodies and various items. 

“That was amazing!” 

“Now I understand why Hellen choose him to stay with her.” 

The members captured David, tied him up and brought him to the police station.

When they were finished, the conversation was still the hot topic.The young woman. A lass named Ruth couldn’t stop thinking of Jack.

“He doesn’t talk much I notice, but his act is really amazing.” She told her companion as they headed home. “I think I m falling love with him” Ruth’s companion shush her. “Don’t you dare saying that lass. If this was heard by Hellen, you probably dead by now.” He chuckled as he turned t his house’s door. But this woman, Ruth, was dead serious.

[megsblackfirewrites]

Two For the Road: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gabriel stood watching the rain splatter against the window of the church she and Jack were holed up in. It was a comforting sound, one that calmed the emotions curling beneath her flesh. It distracted her from the constant pain that tormented her and helped her to focus on the problems unfurling before her.

Reaper was a wanted mercenary with ties to Talon; La Muerte was a dangerous vigilante working with the equally dangerous Soldier: 76. Gabriel Reyes had a gravestone in Dorado next to her mother that no one tended to except for Jack and her when they went to pay their respects to whatever poor souls were buried in their stead. Jack was getting older and he couldn’t move as well as he used to. He was dying a little more every day and there was nothing she could do about it.

He was getting older and dying and she wasn’t aging a day. She was still forty-eight, would always be forty-eight, while Jack aged. Panic gripped her heart as she stared out the window. Jack was dying. Jack was dying. He was dying and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He would grow old and die and she would be left alone to deal with this horrible state of constant decay and regeneration. He would be gone and the only light in her life would vanish and….

“Gabe?” Jack’s voice broke through the crawling, skittering thoughts.

She snapped her head towards him, blinking rapidly as she swallowed down the gasp that wanted to leave her. He was leaning on the doorframe, his white hair disheveled and looking worse for wear. His torso was covered in fresh scars that had yet to lose their painful red colour. His face was a mess of burned scar tissue and two deep slices ran across most of his face. The once cherub features were gone, replaced with a haggard expression that did not suit him.

“My thoughts didn’t wake you, did they?” Gabriel asked as she turned towards him.

“The cold spot beside me woke me up,” Jack yawned as he walked over to her. “What’s on your mind, mi luna?”

Gabriel smiled. He was trying so much harder to learn Spanish now. His accent was still terrible, made worse by his gravelly voice; she suspected that was the result of smoke inhalation when the Swiss base exploded and caved in on top of them; but the fact that he was trying made her feel better about everything. Hearing him call her pet names in her mother-tongue made her feel much lighter than she was and that maybe, just maybe, they were going to be alright.

“What isn’t on my mind, mi sol?” she sighed as she pillowed her head on his chest.

The height difference had taken some getting used to. It was a strain to remain at seven feet tall and required more souls than she was willing to consume to keep her body from looking like a charred skeleton. She flirted between six foot one; same as Jack’s height; and her original five-foot-six, often sticking with the five-foot-six as it was easier to maintain and let her have better control of what she looked like. Jack liked being able to pull her into his chest, but she knew he missed her doing the same.

“Don’t worry so much about us,” Jack soothed as he kissed her temple. “We’re here and we’re alive. That’s all that we should care about.”

“Aside from getting revenge for our fallen comrades,” she smirked.

“That too,” Jack laughed. “Come back to bed.”

Gabriel smiled and let herself be led back into their make-shift bedroom. The mattress Jack had managed to haul up the stairs was lying on the floor, covered in thin sheets and a moth-eaten duvet that kept the chill off of them. Not that Gabriel really felt the cold anymore, but she certainly appreciated the warmth. Jack’s pulse rifle was lying beside the bed within easy grabbing distance. He could have it cocked and ready to fire in less time than most people were able to blink.

Gabriel crawled into bed beside Jack after he had settled down, her clothing misting away to reveal her mottled flesh and nightmare fuel inducing body. There were too many eyes for even her liking, but there was only so much that she could control of her shape at this point. At least it wasn’t mouths and teeth everywhere; she didn’t think she could live with herself if she heard her voice coming out of her shoulders or hips. She could handle the maws on her palms; they stayed closed when she wanted them to.

Jack wrapped his arms around her, unfazed by the eyes squinting at him from her collarbone. They had given him quite the shock the first time they had tried to cuddle; to be fair, she had screamed the first time she saw them too; but he had simply leaned in close and kissed each one with affectionate reverence.

“You’re the best, Jack,” she murmured softly. “Don’t know too many men that would have stayed with me.” “We might never have taken vows before a priest,” Jack murmured as he gently lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm to silence the gnashing mouth, “but I swore that I would love you forever and I intend to keep that vow.”

“You’re such a sap,” she teased.

“Would you have me any other way?” Jack asked with a soft smile.

“No,” she shook her head. “I wouldn’t. You rest, Jack.”

He tucked his head into her shoulder and let out a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms around his torso, keeping her grip loose in case he needed to reach for his gun. She felt him slowly fall back asleep and the rain outside kept falling, soothing her into a state of rest that wasn’t quite sleeping but just as peaceful.

Jesse rubbed at his jaw as he watched Hanzo set up the last target. Hodor was standing quietly beside her, head lowered as the slanting sunlight beat off of him. Sampson flicked his ears forward curiously, but Jesse kept a firm hold of his reins to keep him from going to investigate. They had left white Champion behind in the paddock; apparently he was useless for what Hanzo wanted to do.

She sprang back into the saddle and trotted Hodor over to him, pulling her bow out of the case at her knee. “You ready?” she smirked as she pulled up beside him.

“Ready to school you,” he grinned. “Six shots, six targets; this is my playground, darlin’.”

“No showboating this round,” she smirked. “Just shoot the targets and get a feel for the arena. The more deadly the wound, the better your score.”

“What’s the prize?” he asked as he patted Peacekeeper.

Hanzo’s grin turned devious as she flicked the long strand of hair she had hanging down the right side of her face behind her ear. “I’m sure the winner can think of something,” she teased.

“Sounds good to me,” he cackled as he nudged Sampson forward. “Prepare to lose, darlin’!”

He kicked Sampson into a canter, leaning forward in the saddle as they approached the first target. He drew Peacekeeper in one smooth motion and started firing as they raced past. It felt good to do something this simple with Hanzo; training had always been about staying alive and not getting killed on a mission. Now, this little challenge was for fun, a chance to show off for the dangerous assassin and show what he could do after four years of bounty hunting. He shot the last target in the shoulder and turned Sampson back towards Hanzo and Hodor.

“How was that, darlin’?” he laughed as he approached. “Think you can do better?”

“Oh, definitely,” Hanzo mused as she patted Hodor’s neck. “Watch and learn, cowboy.”

The way she purred that final word had his heart dancing in his chest. He watched Hodor trot past, his ears perked backwards as Hanzo murmured to him. She had Storm Bow in her left hand, her shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows so that Minami’s head was fully exposed. She gave Hodor a firm kick and he broke into a full gallop.

He blinked and almost missed her pulling three arrows from her quiver. She twisted in the saddle, firing over Hodor’s rump at each target. She hit every one of them in the head as they sped by, not even bothering to steer Hodor. Jesse’s mouth fell open as Hodor slowed down to a trot, his sides heaving as Hanzo looked over the damage she had done.

“I do believe round one goes to me,” she teased.

Jesse squinted at her. “You part Hun?” he asked as he pointed at the targets. “Because that’s just plain scary.”

“I was raised from birth to be an efficient killer,” Hanzo smirked. “Shooting from horseback might be an old and dead art, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

“So you won,” he pouted.

“No round two?” she asked sweetly.

“I won’t be able to top that no matter what I do,” he pouted further, sticking his lip out as far as it would go.

“Hmm, sore loser,” she teased before she reached up and stole his hat off of his head. “So I get this for the next week or so.”

“That’s what you wanted as your prize?” Jesse laughed. “Darlin’, you could have just asked!”

“Not as satisfying,” she grinned as she set the hat on her head and fluttered her eyelashes. “So much better to win something like this than to just ask.”

He watched her turn Hodor around to collect her arrows and whistled. Damn, if she didn’t look good in his hat. She shot him a wink over her shoulder and his belly tied itself into knots. He let out a long sigh before he slumped across Sampson’s shoulders and patted his neck.

“That woman, my boy,” he sighed. “That woman should be the death of me, but I’ve never felt more alive.” Sampson snorted and bent down to crop at the shrubby grass around his hooves. Jesse straightened in the saddle, watching Hanzo put the arrows back in her quiver and dismount to start dismantling the targets. He urged Sampson forward, shaking his head in amusement as he went to go help.