hello, i really like your hcs for ghostbite! im sad it's a bit of a rareship bc their dynamics are so good (PLUS THE ANGST!!!) anywho if you don't mind... can you please make a short angsty fic for viper omen >__< thank you so much!!
✎↷: sure thing! be warned— my viper and omen is rusty as all hell, but i’ll give this my best shot!
A rumbling, gravely voice disrupts the scientist out of her reverie, trembling fingers shifting away from the vials set before her. When no response is given, the voice rumbles out again, this time closer.
This time, the figure standing in her doorway is met with a grunt of annoyance. Evergreen-spine-colored eyes flick to the shadowy form, a frown present on the chemist’s face.
“You’re blocking my light.”
Whatever higher being up there that was responsible for convincing her partner into a death wish must be insane. Safety was not promised even to those closer to Sabine, and so the woman reaches up, intending on purposely moving the wraith aside when he instead decides to evade her push.
Oh, he was asking for it, wasn’t it?
Visibly frustrated, once more does she try to swat at him, only to have her hand gently intercepted by a larger, bandaged one coiling around her wrist.
“You should be asleep by now, Sabine,” the ghost responds to the attempt at an attack, gently holding onto where he had her. “It’s six.”
Pulling her hand away, Sabine musters a scowl, a dark look flashed up at him. “I’m busy. Leave me be.”
Omen makes a noise akin to a laugh, before reaching down and effortlessly pulling the scientist out of her chair, causing the somewhat shorter woman to begin wriggling and moving excessively. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like his hold would break anytime soon.
“Put me— down, Omen, I mean that.”
Her request goes ignored before she’s hitting a large mattress, the wraith wordlessly clambering in on top of her. Not only can she not move, but she’s still in her lab clothes and her equipment is out and—
“I know you’ve been thinking too much.”
Her thoughts scatter in an instant.
Seeing that as his cue to go on, Omen drags his claws through short hair, coercing her to stay out for the time being. “About finding a cure for Reyna’s sister. Your duty as a scientist. You are losing sleep and you will collapse doing so.”
Sabine’s mouth opens to protest, hardened exhaustion peeling at her eyes. “I do what I need to. Now let me up.”
“I don’t want you to break on me,” he murmurs, too soft for her to pick up on if the room wasn’t dead silent. “You are fragile. I am not.”
“…I am not going to break, Omen. I am not fragile.”
The air in the room shifts. “I have witnessed you break, and fall,” Omen sighs. “I have watched human failure. I can be pieced together. You… You must be mended. I can’t mend you. You will not last forever.”
Sabine’s defenses are falling in instants, her hands slowly lowering from the defensive position over her head. Bitterly, she frowned. “Why would you want me to last forever?”
Such a question is met with a chuckle, that same twist of sadness in his voice. “Have you ever heard of… irreplaceable?”
The chemist goes silent. And then, with a soft heave of a sigh, she’s wrapping her arms around Omen, turning them both over into the bed to where she could carefully tuck her head into his chest.
Omen’s slashes ripple mirthfully. “Convinced?”
He’s met with an eye roll. “Goodnight.”