#healing the evil gnarly old monster

[puckish-saint]

Ohh,just saw the idea of reaper being a separate entity to gabe and any HC about that ? Silly fluffy or angsty, give me your best !

Okay, so, here’s the idea, and I’mnot the first to have it. There was some great parasite!Reaper hereon tumblr a few months back and I will forever be in love with theMore Than True series on AO3, where the Reaper/Gabriel thing is basedon a similar concept, although there they’re more like two sides ofthe same coin. (also, just in case that nudge wasn’t subtle enough,I’m totally not suggesting you drop everything and read that entireseries if you haven’t already.)AnywayReaper used tobe a person, long long ago. An uncommonly wicked man, a witchhunter,a torturer. Worse. When he died no one disputed he deserved it. Butso cruel, so intent on ridding the world of everything he despises,he didn’t stay dead for long. He may have drifted for days or foryears, but eventually he found a host.

It takes more than a single hatefulthought to make you a victim for the Reaper. It takes soil longfostered in bitterness or bigotry, fear turned to anger turned tosenseless rage. They say it’s only monsters he takes, the childkillers, the rapists, the ones who would turn a bird’s neck becausethey felt like it. Poison goes where poison’s welcome.

He uses their bodies up until they die,and then he moves on, nourished by the darkness in their minds.

And then, has it been months or has itbeen centuries, the Reaper finds Gabriel Reyes. And he seems perfect.

The Reaper can’t exactly read minds,but he sees the bitterness in Gabriel’s thoughts when he looks atthe man holding the position he should have, his once friend he nowfantasises about doing violent things to. The Reaper knows how muchGabriel enjoys his work, everything from torture to assassination,leaving behind a bloodbath just for the sake of it.

But against all odds Gabriel won’tlet him in. The Reaper promises strength, skill beyond measure, powerbeyond imagination. But Gabriel declines, day after day, like he’snot tempted at all.

Over his dead body, he says, and thatthe Reaper can arrange. It’s not easy killing without inhabiting ahost, but Jack and Gabriel, these two make it so simple. A whisperedword here, a suggestion there. He never needs to pull the trigger.

He claims Gabriel’s body and soul ashis own, expecting a rich soil of hate, depths of depravity like onlyhe ever had, expecting to change the last vestiges of Gabriel’shumanity into the monster he’s becoming.

Instead, Gabriel changes him.

What the Reaper thought was bitternessover a lost promotion was sorrow over days gone by, times passingfaster with every day Jack becomes more withdrawn, more cold,burdened by a duty that should have been Gabriel’s to carry. AndGabriel’s wish to change things, to make them the carefree friendsthey used to be, was so strong, Reaper confused it for a desire toenact violence. It’s all he knows. He forgot how intensely a mancan love, how righteous anger can be, how one can enjoy the thingsone does not for the cruelty they involve but the change that followsafter.

The Reaper thought he sunk his clawsinto a helpless victim, but Gabriel has claws of his own.

He shows them when Deadlock takesMcCree’s arm for betraying their cause, and the Reaper bathes inthe blood Gabriel spills and doesn’t care why he spilled it. Hedoesn’t yet know that months down the road Gabriel will have madehim become fond of the kid.

They hunt terrorists, not innocents,and the Reaper doesn’t care by which logic his hosts choose theirvictims, which poison they chose, and that’s his mistake.

Because Gabriel fights for his lovedones and for justice and mercy and all those things the Reaper forgota long time ago.

Gabriel makes him remember.

Gabriel makes him human again.

And when Jack stands before them,battered and worn and in need of shelter and truth, it’s notGabriel who lets the gun sink. It’s the Reaper, remembering, oronly now learning the value of a friend.

The Reaper becomes a guest, a brotherattached at the soul, no more inconvenient than a dog who "reallyonly wants to play, promise!"A struggle for dominance, afight in which wholesale slaughter or the salvation of mankind arethe stakes, turns over months and years to something almost domestic.

The Reaper is still cruel, and he’sstill heartless, but now he doesn’t mind so much the nostalgiaGabriel shares with him, the homesickness that seems to get betterwhen he has someone to talk to, even if that someone lives in hishead and suggests murder as the solution to anything.

Which, as frustrated as Gabriel may bewith his internet provider, isn’t the answer to slow internet. Evenif their favourite bagels were sold out and the landlord stillpretends the mold in the bathroom isn’t his problem.

They get rid of their combined rottenmood by killing zombies in a video game, which for the incarnation ofperpetual wrath shouldn’t be enough. But it is, because it’sGabriel’s eyes through which he is seeing the world, and it doesn’tseem so dark anymore.

[auburnandamberangel]

Daniel Mortal years - (Whatsapp rp with @dannymolloy - Transcribed ongoing here) -

I reached out and played with Daniels hair lazily as they sat on the beach. A full moon out, the waves lapping gently the only other sound. “There’s another one!”, I said enthusiastically as another shooting star crossed the clear, black sky. You had taken me here and it was great, despite the cold wind. “Did you wish upon it? That’s the custom, no,” Watching you watching the nights sky. “Shall I get that bonfire going?” Conscious of the chilly temperature

“I don’t believe in that nonsense. I prefer stories of vampires and werewolves.” I said with a little smile. “You sure? Can you do it with your mind? The fire?” “Not a romantic then? If we’re real why can’t other oddities be?” These verbal teasing almost life giving for me. “Ofcourse I don’t want you getting a chill.” Standing and arranging the prepared logs. “You over estimate beloved that particular gift is not in my power yet. Just a old fashioned lighter.” Using your own clipper lighter I’d pocketed earlier. “….you mean there are others that can?!” As the flames took hold and flickered in the logs centre, I witnessed a similar flame alight in your own eyes. “The older of our kind can naturally, though it’s more a state of mind I feel than blood maturity alone….” Sitting back down next to my lover. I disliked speaking of others of the undead. “Have you seen them do it? How do they do it?” You never spoke of others. And of course I would milk it as much as I could. “Long ago I did. Candles lit as if by magic, curtains drawn just as we needed… ” My voice dreamy as I recalled ‘him’, shaking myself out of this quickly. “Through energy focused will. “So there are ones out there older than you?” “Ofcourse there are, I sense something sometimes, older energy and hurry us along.” shifting uncomfortably. “Would you prefer an even older partner then?” half fearing your answer. But wishing to get off the path of others. “Yes.” I teased. But then I bumped your shoulder. “Kidding.” I stilled in the milliseconds before you bumped my shoulder. Smiling and arching a brow. “Not ‘sugar Dadd'y enough for you hmmm?” Bumping your shoulder back. “Hey, don’t make me sound like a golddigger. You know I don’t need any of the stuff you give me.” “I was following your teasing lead, rather than attempting to rehash old arguments”, frowning I stared off into the fire. I reached out for your hand and put mine on it. “I don’t want to argue either. Not tonight.” I turned my hand so I could clasp yours. Squeezing it gently, “Good.” leaning my head against your shoulder. “What is this?” I asked quietly. “This thing we have. How would you describe it if someone asked you about it?” I let out a heavy sigh. Sometimes I breathed, not sure for whose comfort this was for yours or mine. “A love affair, gritty, brutal but true. Two souls that found eachother, from different times.” Stroking your hand. “How would you describe it?” “A game. A game that got out of hand. Spectacularly.” I described as the writer I was. Closing my eyes at your matter of fact wording. “A gambling man to your boots eh! A game? So whose playing who now?” Untangling my hand from yours, defensive “No.” I grabbed yours again. “We’re both playing. But eventually one will lose.” I let you take claim of my hand again, “You said you didn’t wish to fight.” attention back to the fire. I reached out my free hand, at this distance it wouldn’t hurt me, I’d have to get much closer for that. I wanted the warmth. “Eventually one of us will lose. But we’ll both burn,” I added darkly. “Looking forward to it.” I said, staring into the fire. “I’ve played this game before. I won’t watch another love wither, burn and live on myself.” Not looking at Daniel as I made this pledge to myself. “Wonderful. So you’ll turn me then.” “No I’ll treasure your humanity til the end, then when you pass. I’ll die too.” “Are you insane?! How about you give me eternal life and no one has to die?!” “Perhaps I am. I let this game happen. I should have known better.” “Bullshit! You knew I wanted this from the moment you dumped me in that cellar!” “Nothings eternal I believed that fairy tale…once. Yes many mortals do. But I didn’t think you wanted the monster that went with it. And I didn’t love you then.” I let out a dry laugh. This time I slipped out of your hand hold and stood. I’d be damned twice over if I let you see tears. “Damn you Daniel!” “Not yet, boss. Not yet.” I said, getting used to your dramatics and knowing you would probably not leave. Now you were being deliberately mocking. I caught your so sure of yourself thought. I never left. You did that. “You know nothing of being damned.” Turning and letting you see the tears, before walking away down the beach. “I live with you every day, Armand! I do know what it’s like!” I called after you. “You see what I want, and let you see.” I retorted - everyday I wondered when you’d fully realise you loved a dead thing- I didn’t add. “Do you think I had any concept of what it meant when I was the youth I appear to be?!” Spitting out the words. Stalking back and standing between you and the fire. I stood up too now, giving myself some stance to defend myself a bit if you were to attack. “You were a child! I’m a grown-ass man!” As you stood firm I had to admire the audacity. As if you could fight me if I went for you. “So now I’m a child to you! Compared to me your just starting your life.” Even if I had strictly been a youth I disliked the term. “Don’t be dramatic! When you were turned you hadn’t even hit 18! Of course you didn’t know! But I’ve seen more than enough SHIT to know what I’m dealing with!” “Most of said shit is because of me! The body turns…but the mind doesn’t always have the stamina.” Voice softening. I sighed as you seemed to come down too. I gathered all my dare and slowly walked up to you - looking down at you, but knowing full well who was in control. “Listen. I know what you are. You are not a child. You’re a monster. A festering darkness that can swallow everything in its wake. You’re an insect. A leech. A vile, dark, evil being. And I adore it!. Why can’t you accept that I love this darkness.” Part of me wanting to walk and not stop as I had with Louis. To save you from me. I knew I couldn’t follow through. Looking up at you as you stared down at me. Aware of how anyone else would see a reverse in dynamic. “Because I know what I am. But it doesn’t mean I want to be or always was.” reaching out and stroking your face. “Its too late for you, either way there’s no turning back”, arching up on my feet to speak directly into your mouth. “I realise that… ” I said softly, my heart always pounding harder when you came so close. I never got used to it and I didn’t want to either. “And so I only want to be turned or killed by you. Just you.” Ah my beautiful boy. I could hear your heart rate soar as I stood so close. It thrilled me slightly, gave me a kick. How I’d never gotten carried away and drank too deep was miraculous. Small drinks were the key. “No escape from this predator - lover or not”, hand curling to pull you nearer. Mouthing your neck. Mottling a path. My other arm snaking around your waist to pull you near. “You like the lottery, yes.” breath heavy. “Yeah… yeah I do.” I breathed, getting an equally hard thrill out of you being so close to my neck now and curling your limbs around me like a python. You had been angry with me and so I knew this could go either way. A lottery indeed…. “I find it very, very exhilarating.” Speaking onto your neck as I teased the goosebumping skin. Every inch of you excited. Usually such boldness was egged on by dutch courage. I placed my leg behind yours and kicked it away so you tumbled back. Me along for the ride. Rolling us onto the sand. I fell into the sand with you on top of me and my natural instinct was to try and get away from you, but not even a fraction of second later, I fought it - wanting to be this close to you. Risk my life for you. I felt you tense. Fight and flight kicking in. Ofcourse this made me want you more. Seconds passed and you didn’t move. Brave beloved. I held you in my arms. Teeth shivering across your juicy vein. Mere drops taken. “You’ve earned a treat, Daniel. Do something you’ve always wanted to do to me.” My breath was shaky as I felt the fangs scrape my skin to give you only that red that was collected in the skin. Your sudden invitation came like a surprise. “I’d need a knife for that… ” I let out on a breath. Mouth occupied by tasting the other tempting pulse point.This time my fangs slid in true a globular of blood supped. Then healed. “Or something as sharp as one.” Tearing a glassy nail off for you to use instead. “Ah-!” my body gave a small convulsion at the sharp pain of you biting down in my neck. But despite the pain - or perhaps because of the pain, I felt that familiar warmth down my mid section. Oh. But you were serious on giving me what I wanted. What you did to cater to it was absolutely horrid, but it made me prop myself up on my elbow and I took the gnarly, sharp thing from your reaching hand. I looked at it and then at you. There wasn’t the usual build up to my biting. Your exclamation of surprise voiced this. Yet the press of happy flesh against my stomach showed part of you’d liked it. “Its just a nail. Well part of one. The white end. Just tougher and shinier than yours. I don’t carry knives, obviously!” I watched you take it all the same, moved back enough to study this tableau. “Don’t you want to take me for once.” not using an iota of telepathy. I wanted to be surprised.