Marzipan Boy part 6 (finally)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/64048147/chapters/217727796
âDonât panic, Danny, weâll get out of here.â
Tim tried to slip his hand into Dannyâs from where they were tied next to each other- his boyfriend was trembling.
âNot panicking, just tremors, babe.â
The cultists who had captured them in the middle of their date had congregated around a book resting on a crude stone plinth and were whispering to each other in a tone too low for Tim to hear.
Craning his neck to see Danny, Tim noted that the other man looked surprisingly calm, for a civilian who had been kidnapped by cultists and was now roughly tied up, with no rescue in sight. There was a spare batarang in the lining of Timâs jacket, but he wouldnât be able to get to it without dislocating something, and Danny- Tim didnât want Danny to know yet, despite the fact theyâd been dating for a year. Theyâd even (briefly) discussed moving in together.
âBabe, relax. Youâre tense.â
Tim didnât want to be told to calm down by his gentle giant civilian of a boyfriend, even if he was right.
Breaking from their huddle, the cultists approached the two of them and began reaching for the bonds tying Tim to his chair.
âHeâs more use to you alive than dead-â Dannyâs voice cut through Timâs relief at being the one to be sacrificed. âHeâs got money. Take me, and Iâll go willingly.â
Tim cursed internally as the cultists turned away from untying him and whispered amongst themselves again. Then he cursed internally more as they turned to Danny.
âA willing sacrifice will suit better,â said the cultist with the weird golden pendant.
âI figured as much.â
Danny sounded smug, and he had a sardonic little smirk on his face. Tim wanted to kiss it away and stall until the bats could converge- even if it had been long enough since heâd pressed his emergency button that Oracle should have pinpointed their location and sent reinforcements by now.
Black robed arms grabbed Danny, who stood up with little effort despite the ropes on his legs.
âDanny!â
Danny turned and winked at Tim, full of confidence despite the altar he was being led to.
âNo worries, Tim. If I die, Iâll come back to haunt you.â
As soon as his boyfriend turned his back to him, Tim began the process of dislocating his thumbs so he could wiggle out of the ropes, but he watched the goings on with wide eyes.
The cultists escorted Danny to the altar, and then pushed him down onto it- somehow the prospective sacrifice managed to lounge in such a way that he was on his side, facing Tim.
âPaint me like one of your-â Danny stopped short as the cultists rolled him onto his back and raised a knife. âThatâs gonna hurt like a bitch- can I at least know who youâre trying to summon before you kill me?â
âThe King of the Infinite, wearer of the ring of Rage!â
There was no more stalling- Tim screamed as the knife was driven down into his boyfriendâs chest.
Danny didnât make a sound.
The cultists looked confused- the knife was clearly embedded in Dannyâs chest, but there was no blood, and the man himself was just grinning like a loon.
âThatâs mine, now, right? Stabbees keepees? Itâs a pretty decent ritual knife, all things considered.â
Danny sat up, and the ropes that had bound him fell to the ground, severed. The blade was still sunk into his chest.
âMy friend Sam- sheâs the best- collects ritual knives. Especially the ones that get stabbed into me. Youâd think that I wouldnât be sacrificed to summon my predecessor on a regular basis, but here we are!â
Something changed in Dannyâs facial expression.
âYes, here we are- and you guys tried to sacrifice my boyfriend. To. Summon. MÌžÌĄÌŻÌ°Ì«ÌÍÈšÌ”Ì ÍÍÌÌ.â
As Tim watched, half in horror and half in morbid curiosity, his boyfriend exploded in an inky blackness that grew and morphed, thousands of lights blooming into existence and then winking out just as fast amidst the darkness. A wave of pressure began building in the room.
After what seemed like ages, the void coalesced into a singularly familiar being- none other than Phantom, Voice of the Crown.
The cultists fell to their knees, offering up prayers to the god before them.
âPhantasm, cover Timâs eyes.â
Tim didnât know when Phantasm had shown up- somewhere in the light show, probably- but she crowded up to him and turned opaque, blocking his vision with her body, and then covering his eyes with her gloved hands.
The next few moments were screaming and blackness, until Phantasm made a small chirping noise that rocketed through the noise and quieted everything else like a firework. The sudden stillness allowed Tim to take stock of himself. He was uninjured, as far as he could tell, except some soreness where he started dislocating his-
âHeâs shaking, Danny.â
Was he?
âFuck. Goddammit. Good while it lasted, right?â
âDonât be dramatic. Shift back and come comfort your boyfriend, Iâll deal with the mess.â
The overwhelming pressure in the room receded, and Tim could hear Dannyâs footsteps coming closer.
âDonât open your eyes yet, boo- I wrecked some carnage. Itâs not pretty. Theyâre all alive, at least.â
Phantasmâs soft gloves moved away from Timâs face- he closed his eyes quickly, so as not to disappoint Danny.
Strong arms reached under him and pulled him out of the chair- the ropes binding him felt like they just fell through his arms and legs.
âDanny, what-â
âShh, Tim. I understand if this changes things, but letâs get you somewhere safer and more comfortable before we talk about it.â
