![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Demons
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles exorcises a demon
Warnings: Slash, swearing, violence, angst, non-con
Notes: This is what happens when I try and write N/C slash.
Cross posted from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
capslokdethklok. DO NOT READ TWICE! :D
Naw, took it down. Decided I liked Z's summary better.
Also, I promise to never, EVER try N/C again. Ever.
Note: There was a meme going around this weekend about fanon and slashing characters, with a lot of really awesome comments. And I shot my mouth off saying I could NEVER do N/C. So I decided as a dare to myself to try N/C. And, yeah, it went all sideways. Oh wells.
Demons
Charles sat at the head of the meeting room table, watching William Murderface intently stab at his Dethphone with his too-large hands. "So, I take it you guys are working on that new album?"
"Yesch. Aschhole."
"Uh, thank you for that, William."
"I have a new INSPIRATION. The Tibetan BOOK OF THE DEAD," Nathan announced.
"Uh, Nathan,” Charles sighed, “what have we said about using spells as song lyrics?"
"GET OFF MY BACK! We're working on THE ALBUM."
"Nathan, you remember what happened last time? When you awakened the, uh, undead?"
"Yeah, that was AWESOME!" Nathan rumbled happily.
"Nathan, we're still cleaning up the body parts."
"I ams found da spleen ins my closets!" Skwisgaar volunteered, strumming his Gibson.
"Yeah, and guys, the cleaning fees come out of your pockets! Your pockets!"
"Robot," Murderface muttered, updating his Chitter page.
"Yeah, OK, whatever. Just, be careful with the spells, OK?”
Charles heard the tell tale squeak of the hinges on his office door. It was Toki and Pickles. They actually looked apologetic.
This was gonna be bad.
"Uh, Charles, dood?" Pickles ventured.
"Yeah? Whaddya got?" Charles sat back and prepared for the worst.
"Nat'ans ams possessessed by a demons,” Toki explained.
"And he sent you two to tell me?” Charles rolled his eyes. “OK, OK, I'll phone an exorcist. I'm sure they're really easy to find in the Yellow Pages."
"Uh, no dood,” Pickles told him.
"No, what?"
"He ams askings for you,” Toki said.
"All right. All right. I'll go talk to him. Where is he?"
"In his room. But, I dunno if I’d go in dere, dood,” Pickles warned.
“Why not?”
Toki and Pickles looked at each other. “It ams spooksy!” Toki admitted.
“It’s kinda fecked up, dood,” Pickles admitted.
“Look, guys, it’ll be OK, I’ll go take care of it. I’ll go take care of it now. OK?"
"You takes cares of it, Charleses?" Toki whispered.
He stood up. "Don’t be scared. I’ll go take care of it.”
Toki and Pickles nodded sheepishly.
Charles stalked down the hallway, shaking his head. Some managers got to deal with angry groupies and record contracts. Not him. No, no. It was always fucking Beelzebub. He looked up and absent-mindedly grabbed a fencing saber down from the wall. He halfway thought of stopping by William’s room to get something that packed a bit more of a punch, but decided he’d been called “robot” enough damn times already this week. Besides, even packing a sword was probably ridiculous overkill. Knowing Nathan, this was probably a goat demon, and he’d have to talk him out of chewing up his own rug. Maybe he should stop somewhere and grab some hay.
He knocked on Nathan's door and, hearing no answer, poked his head in and nosed around. He heard what sounded like voices.
“Nathan?” No answer. He pushed on through. Nathan didn’t seem to be around, but the stereo was on. Was this some kind of weird new death metal variant? It sounded like mumbled voices. Many, many mumbled voices. He listened, but couldn’t make sense of what they were saying, at least in any of the languages he knew.
“WHAM!” Nathan’s door had slammed shut behind him. And then there was a flash of magic. Without turning around, Charles carefully backed up one step and reached back to rattle the handle.
OK, not good.
Not taking his eyes off Nathan’s room, he brought his communicator to his mouth. Static. That was great. That was just perfect. Now he had to talk to a vendor about getting magic-proof communicators.
“Charles!”
Without moving he let his eyes drift up, following the origin of the voice. The creature that was Nathan but not-Nathan was hanging upside-down from the ceiling light fixture, grinning at him.
OK, really not good.
“All right, whoever you are.” He held up the fencing saber. “Why don’t you come on down and we’ll have a nice, calm discussion.”
With astonishing quickness, Not-Nathan was standing in front of him, all right side up, grinning like a cat.
“You wanna poke me with a little sword,” Not-Nathan laughed.
“OK, whoever, whatever, you need to back off….”
“Maybe you’d rather I poked you.” Not-Nathan took a step. Charles raised the sword, trying to keep it between him and the demon, but whatever it was, it was quick and strong. It had already grabbed his wrist with one big Nathan hand and twisted, and the sword dropped to the ground. Charles winced and tried to get a foot around Nathan’s ankle to knock the big man off balance. But Not-Nathan hauled off and hit him in the face, and he sprawled into the footboard of Nathan’s bed, badly cracking his side. He gasped, sinking to the floor, and the thing had tackled him from behind, wrenching his arms in back of him, making pain shoot through his side. He felt something cool on his wrists.
Oh, fuck. Nathan has handcuffs? Yeah, of course Nathan has handcuffs. Don’t be stupid.
Not-Nathan grabbed him as he tried to wriggle free and threw him like a rag doll, face first onto Nathan’s bed. And then it was on top of him, all its weight crushing him down, one side of his rib cage now on fire.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” the Not-Nathan was telling him. “When you’re all alone, jacking off in your bedroom? This is what you’re thinking about isn’t it? His hands on you….”
“No. No!” He struggled wildly. “Get off me, you fucking thing!”
“Yeah,” it murmured in his ear. “I’m a fucking thing. That’s what I am.” It was tearing open his shirt, groping his chest. “Just let me have what I want. What you want. And I’ll go away.”
“No!”
“I’ll give you back Nathan,” it was cooing, thrusting a hand down, caressing him. “Just let me. Just relax. Just lay back and enjoy.” He felt the bulge from Not-Nathan’s erection rubbing on him. “So sweet. Just like your dreams.”
Charles struggled, but he was pinned down, his side screaming at him.
“Just relax. Just let me touch you. That’s all I need.”
“OK.” The struggling wasn’t working. “Wait! Wait! Wait.” He was having trouble breathing in and out. “You’ll give back Nathan?” he rasped.
He felt the demon relax, ever so slightly. “Yes. Yes of course,” the Nathan demon muttered, now caressing his chest.
“You’ll let Nathan go?”
“Of course. Of course. This will be nice. So nice. I can be so gentle with you. So gentle.”
“And you’ll go back where came from?”
“Mmmmm….” It was nuzzling him in his neck, kissing him with Nathan’s lips, licking him with Nathan’s tongue. “You’ll like this. You’ll like this so much….”
And then it shrieked, not a Nathan shriek, but an unearthly, demon shriek. His heel had smashed down right in Nathan’s instep. It briefly released it's grip, and Charles let himself drop to the floor, ignoring the pain in his side, and rolled under Nathan’s bed.
“You little bitch! Come out here and let me tear you apart!” Charles was passing his hands under his feet. The space was so narrow. He had a broken or cracked rib, and every motion made it feel like his side was on fire. He lay flat, wheezing, watching Nathan’s boots stalk around the bed. OK. Not much time. It was bigger and stronger and faster, meaning he had to think. And not pass out. No, that wouldn’t be good.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I could have been your friend. Your good friend. You’ll die alone now, you know. You’ll die alone.”
“You’re probably… You’re one of the female demons, right?”
There was a pregnant pause. “I am not a female essence,” it spat.
“Oh, no, you’re definitely a girl. A little girl. I can tell.”
“Get out here.”
“Like, Stacey the demon? Or, uh, Cindy the demon?”
“I AM NO WOMAN! Get out here!”
“Am I getting warmer? Brandy the demon. I must be getting close.” Please don’t faint. Please don’t lose consciousness. “Barbie the demon?”
“I AM BELIAL.”
“And where is your fucking essence Belial?”
“Fuck you!”
“BELIAL I COMMAND YOU BY YOUR NAME WHERE IS YOUR FUCKING ESSENCE?”
“Stereo.”
And then Belial howled. It had picked up the whole of Nathan’s giant four-poster bed and heaved it across the room, shattering it against a wall. Sword, Charles thought, and crawled over to where it had dropped. Belial charged him, but he had already hefted the saber and chucked it in the right direction. At least he hoped it was the right direction. Belial smashed on top of him, and his side exploded in pain, but as he blacked out, he thought he heard Nathan’s stereo screaming.
He came to, his side throbbing. Nathan was dead weight on top of him.
He struggled out from under the bigger man. Nathan emitted a moan. Nathan, not the demon. He tried his communicator. Yes. The static was gone. He issued a command. It didn’t take long. Nathan was starting to rouse, but he ordered them to take him off on a stretcher anyway.
“Sire?” the Klokateer asked. “Do you need medical-“
“No! I’m fine. Just….” He held up his hands. “Just find me a fucking locksmith or something to get these fucking things off.”
Nathan stood in the office door. “OK if I come in?”
Charles looked over at him. He had been standing beside his desk, holding his side. “Of course. Of course. Why not?”
Nathan watched as Charles stumbled into his chair. Then he put on his concerned-Charles face and knit his fingers into a steeple. “Sorry. Sorry I didn’t get over to the medical wing. Been busy. I trust you are feeling better?” He was speaking in his best concerned-Charles voice.
“Uh, yeah,” Nathan started. He wasn’t used to concerned-Charles having a black eye and a badly swollen split lip. “Are you OK, dude? They said you refused medical-“
“I’m fine. Can we say, moving forward, that we’ll try to avoid plagiarizing spell books for lyrics?”
“Yeah, dude. Uh, look, I’m really sorry-“
“Not your fault. You were possessed.”
“Uh. OK-”
“Is there anything else?”
Nathan frowned. “I just… I think I remember some stuff I may have said…”
“You remember nothing. You were possessed.”
“No, seriously-“
“False memories.”
“Yeah, but-“
“Is there anything else? Are you working on the album?”
Nathan rose, grumbling. “Yeah, whatever.”
Charles watched the door close on Nathan. He opened his top desk drawer, thinking to rummage around for a smoke. His fingers closed on something else instead. Nathan’s handcuffs. They had been cut open, because, he suspected, the Klokateer locksmith was an incompetent idiot. He had to make a note of that. He was unconsciously clicking the handcuffs open and closed, open and closed.
He opened his bottom desk drawer, and very carefully tucked the handcuffs away in the corner. And then he grabbed the bottle and a glass from the drawer and brought them out and sat them on the desktop. He would never die alone. No, not when there was brandy to keep him company.
He limped to his room a while later. The alcohol seemed to have taken the edge off the pain.
"Charleses." He turned, startled. He hadn't heard Pickles and Toki walk up. He let himself lean against the wall. What now? "Guys." He tried not to let the strain sound in his voice. "I'm really sorry, I'm kinda tired."
“We ams knows," Toki said. He had an arm draped gently around him.
"I...." Charles started. Pickles had opened the door to his room and walked in.
“Don’t be scared,” Toki whispered, leading him inside. “We ams takes care of you. We ams takes care of you now.”
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles exorcises a demon
Warnings: Slash, swearing, violence, angst, non-con
Notes: This is what happens when I try and write N/C slash.
capslokdethklok. DO NOT READ TWICE! :DNaw, took it down. Decided I liked Z's summary better.
Also, I promise to never, EVER try N/C again. Ever.
Note: There was a meme going around this weekend about fanon and slashing characters, with a lot of really awesome comments. And I shot my mouth off saying I could NEVER do N/C. So I decided as a dare to myself to try N/C. And, yeah, it went all sideways. Oh wells.
Demons
Charles sat at the head of the meeting room table, watching William Murderface intently stab at his Dethphone with his too-large hands. "So, I take it you guys are working on that new album?"
"Yesch. Aschhole."
"Uh, thank you for that, William."
"I have a new INSPIRATION. The Tibetan BOOK OF THE DEAD," Nathan announced.
"Uh, Nathan,” Charles sighed, “what have we said about using spells as song lyrics?"
"GET OFF MY BACK! We're working on THE ALBUM."
"Nathan, you remember what happened last time? When you awakened the, uh, undead?"
"Yeah, that was AWESOME!" Nathan rumbled happily.
"Nathan, we're still cleaning up the body parts."
"I ams found da spleen ins my closets!" Skwisgaar volunteered, strumming his Gibson.
"Yeah, and guys, the cleaning fees come out of your pockets! Your pockets!"
"Robot," Murderface muttered, updating his Chitter page.
"Yeah, OK, whatever. Just, be careful with the spells, OK?”
Charles heard the tell tale squeak of the hinges on his office door. It was Toki and Pickles. They actually looked apologetic.
This was gonna be bad.
"Uh, Charles, dood?" Pickles ventured.
"Yeah? Whaddya got?" Charles sat back and prepared for the worst.
"Nat'ans ams possessessed by a demons,” Toki explained.
"And he sent you two to tell me?” Charles rolled his eyes. “OK, OK, I'll phone an exorcist. I'm sure they're really easy to find in the Yellow Pages."
"Uh, no dood,” Pickles told him.
"No, what?"
"He ams askings for you,” Toki said.
"All right. All right. I'll go talk to him. Where is he?"
"In his room. But, I dunno if I’d go in dere, dood,” Pickles warned.
“Why not?”
Toki and Pickles looked at each other. “It ams spooksy!” Toki admitted.
“It’s kinda fecked up, dood,” Pickles admitted.
“Look, guys, it’ll be OK, I’ll go take care of it. I’ll go take care of it now. OK?"
"You takes cares of it, Charleses?" Toki whispered.
He stood up. "Don’t be scared. I’ll go take care of it.”
Toki and Pickles nodded sheepishly.
Charles stalked down the hallway, shaking his head. Some managers got to deal with angry groupies and record contracts. Not him. No, no. It was always fucking Beelzebub. He looked up and absent-mindedly grabbed a fencing saber down from the wall. He halfway thought of stopping by William’s room to get something that packed a bit more of a punch, but decided he’d been called “robot” enough damn times already this week. Besides, even packing a sword was probably ridiculous overkill. Knowing Nathan, this was probably a goat demon, and he’d have to talk him out of chewing up his own rug. Maybe he should stop somewhere and grab some hay.
He knocked on Nathan's door and, hearing no answer, poked his head in and nosed around. He heard what sounded like voices.
“Nathan?” No answer. He pushed on through. Nathan didn’t seem to be around, but the stereo was on. Was this some kind of weird new death metal variant? It sounded like mumbled voices. Many, many mumbled voices. He listened, but couldn’t make sense of what they were saying, at least in any of the languages he knew.
“WHAM!” Nathan’s door had slammed shut behind him. And then there was a flash of magic. Without turning around, Charles carefully backed up one step and reached back to rattle the handle.
OK, not good.
Not taking his eyes off Nathan’s room, he brought his communicator to his mouth. Static. That was great. That was just perfect. Now he had to talk to a vendor about getting magic-proof communicators.
“Charles!”
Without moving he let his eyes drift up, following the origin of the voice. The creature that was Nathan but not-Nathan was hanging upside-down from the ceiling light fixture, grinning at him.
OK, really not good.
“All right, whoever you are.” He held up the fencing saber. “Why don’t you come on down and we’ll have a nice, calm discussion.”
With astonishing quickness, Not-Nathan was standing in front of him, all right side up, grinning like a cat.
“You wanna poke me with a little sword,” Not-Nathan laughed.
“OK, whoever, whatever, you need to back off….”
“Maybe you’d rather I poked you.” Not-Nathan took a step. Charles raised the sword, trying to keep it between him and the demon, but whatever it was, it was quick and strong. It had already grabbed his wrist with one big Nathan hand and twisted, and the sword dropped to the ground. Charles winced and tried to get a foot around Nathan’s ankle to knock the big man off balance. But Not-Nathan hauled off and hit him in the face, and he sprawled into the footboard of Nathan’s bed, badly cracking his side. He gasped, sinking to the floor, and the thing had tackled him from behind, wrenching his arms in back of him, making pain shoot through his side. He felt something cool on his wrists.
Oh, fuck. Nathan has handcuffs? Yeah, of course Nathan has handcuffs. Don’t be stupid.
Not-Nathan grabbed him as he tried to wriggle free and threw him like a rag doll, face first onto Nathan’s bed. And then it was on top of him, all its weight crushing him down, one side of his rib cage now on fire.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” the Not-Nathan was telling him. “When you’re all alone, jacking off in your bedroom? This is what you’re thinking about isn’t it? His hands on you….”
“No. No!” He struggled wildly. “Get off me, you fucking thing!”
“Yeah,” it murmured in his ear. “I’m a fucking thing. That’s what I am.” It was tearing open his shirt, groping his chest. “Just let me have what I want. What you want. And I’ll go away.”
“No!”
“I’ll give you back Nathan,” it was cooing, thrusting a hand down, caressing him. “Just let me. Just relax. Just lay back and enjoy.” He felt the bulge from Not-Nathan’s erection rubbing on him. “So sweet. Just like your dreams.”
Charles struggled, but he was pinned down, his side screaming at him.
“Just relax. Just let me touch you. That’s all I need.”
“OK.” The struggling wasn’t working. “Wait! Wait! Wait.” He was having trouble breathing in and out. “You’ll give back Nathan?” he rasped.
He felt the demon relax, ever so slightly. “Yes. Yes of course,” the Nathan demon muttered, now caressing his chest.
“You’ll let Nathan go?”
“Of course. Of course. This will be nice. So nice. I can be so gentle with you. So gentle.”
“And you’ll go back where came from?”
“Mmmmm….” It was nuzzling him in his neck, kissing him with Nathan’s lips, licking him with Nathan’s tongue. “You’ll like this. You’ll like this so much….”
And then it shrieked, not a Nathan shriek, but an unearthly, demon shriek. His heel had smashed down right in Nathan’s instep. It briefly released it's grip, and Charles let himself drop to the floor, ignoring the pain in his side, and rolled under Nathan’s bed.
“You little bitch! Come out here and let me tear you apart!” Charles was passing his hands under his feet. The space was so narrow. He had a broken or cracked rib, and every motion made it feel like his side was on fire. He lay flat, wheezing, watching Nathan’s boots stalk around the bed. OK. Not much time. It was bigger and stronger and faster, meaning he had to think. And not pass out. No, that wouldn’t be good.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I could have been your friend. Your good friend. You’ll die alone now, you know. You’ll die alone.”
“You’re probably… You’re one of the female demons, right?”
There was a pregnant pause. “I am not a female essence,” it spat.
“Oh, no, you’re definitely a girl. A little girl. I can tell.”
“Get out here.”
“Like, Stacey the demon? Or, uh, Cindy the demon?”
“I AM NO WOMAN! Get out here!”
“Am I getting warmer? Brandy the demon. I must be getting close.” Please don’t faint. Please don’t lose consciousness. “Barbie the demon?”
“I AM BELIAL.”
“And where is your fucking essence Belial?”
“Fuck you!”
“BELIAL I COMMAND YOU BY YOUR NAME WHERE IS YOUR FUCKING ESSENCE?”
“Stereo.”
And then Belial howled. It had picked up the whole of Nathan’s giant four-poster bed and heaved it across the room, shattering it against a wall. Sword, Charles thought, and crawled over to where it had dropped. Belial charged him, but he had already hefted the saber and chucked it in the right direction. At least he hoped it was the right direction. Belial smashed on top of him, and his side exploded in pain, but as he blacked out, he thought he heard Nathan’s stereo screaming.
He came to, his side throbbing. Nathan was dead weight on top of him.
He struggled out from under the bigger man. Nathan emitted a moan. Nathan, not the demon. He tried his communicator. Yes. The static was gone. He issued a command. It didn’t take long. Nathan was starting to rouse, but he ordered them to take him off on a stretcher anyway.
“Sire?” the Klokateer asked. “Do you need medical-“
“No! I’m fine. Just….” He held up his hands. “Just find me a fucking locksmith or something to get these fucking things off.”
Nathan stood in the office door. “OK if I come in?”
Charles looked over at him. He had been standing beside his desk, holding his side. “Of course. Of course. Why not?”
Nathan watched as Charles stumbled into his chair. Then he put on his concerned-Charles face and knit his fingers into a steeple. “Sorry. Sorry I didn’t get over to the medical wing. Been busy. I trust you are feeling better?” He was speaking in his best concerned-Charles voice.
“Uh, yeah,” Nathan started. He wasn’t used to concerned-Charles having a black eye and a badly swollen split lip. “Are you OK, dude? They said you refused medical-“
“I’m fine. Can we say, moving forward, that we’ll try to avoid plagiarizing spell books for lyrics?”
“Yeah, dude. Uh, look, I’m really sorry-“
“Not your fault. You were possessed.”
“Uh. OK-”
“Is there anything else?”
Nathan frowned. “I just… I think I remember some stuff I may have said…”
“You remember nothing. You were possessed.”
“No, seriously-“
“False memories.”
“Yeah, but-“
“Is there anything else? Are you working on the album?”
Nathan rose, grumbling. “Yeah, whatever.”
Charles watched the door close on Nathan. He opened his top desk drawer, thinking to rummage around for a smoke. His fingers closed on something else instead. Nathan’s handcuffs. They had been cut open, because, he suspected, the Klokateer locksmith was an incompetent idiot. He had to make a note of that. He was unconsciously clicking the handcuffs open and closed, open and closed.
He opened his bottom desk drawer, and very carefully tucked the handcuffs away in the corner. And then he grabbed the bottle and a glass from the drawer and brought them out and sat them on the desktop. He would never die alone. No, not when there was brandy to keep him company.
He limped to his room a while later. The alcohol seemed to have taken the edge off the pain.
"Charleses." He turned, startled. He hadn't heard Pickles and Toki walk up. He let himself lean against the wall. What now? "Guys." He tried not to let the strain sound in his voice. "I'm really sorry, I'm kinda tired."
“We ams knows," Toki said. He had an arm draped gently around him.
"I...." Charles started. Pickles had opened the door to his room and walked in.
“Don’t be scared,” Toki whispered, leading him inside. “We ams takes care of you. We ams takes care of you now.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:15 am (UTC)Daughter: She left this note behind.
Me: Crap. Now I gotta go out in a helicopter and find her. Hopefully, she hasn't turned into a chronic hitter and is now punching a goat.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:24 am (UTC)Me: Okay. Tiki, you don't have to punch goats to make people think you're cool. I think you're cool. I think you're very cool.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-07 04:54 am (UTC)