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ninacarstairss · 3 years

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PARABATAI WEEK -> day 2, Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs @carstairgray & @clarys-heosphoros

tw mention of blood

“They really should start sending us after more dangerous demons” Will said, his head turning to look at Jem as he walked up to him, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “They're wasting all our potential.”

Jem grinned back at his parabatai and Will threw his arm around his shoulders as they made their way back to the institute. Charlotte had sent them off on a mission to neutralize some demons on the banks of the river Thames, near Blackfriars bridge. It was a small horde of ravener demons, easy to take down for Jem, Will and Henry.

As soon as they'd defeated the demons Henry ran back to the institute babbling something about a new antidote to the raveners' poison he had to work on, and Jem and Will stayed behind to apply iratzes where the demons had scratched them and to catch some breath.

“I know you're rather fond of hydra and raum demons, my friend” Jem countered as they walked. “But not all demons can have laughable protuberances.”

“Oh, come on, that hydra demon from two weeks ago had somehow managed to knot two of its necks together and couldn't free itself.” Jem rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Will cut him off before he could. “I saw you stifle a laugh too, James Carstairs.”

Jem's cheeks flushed pink and Will smirked at him.

Tuned out he really couldn't lie to his parabatai. Jem threw his head back and laughed with Will, then they fell into lighthearted conversation as they closed in on Fleet Street.

The adrenaline of the battle still coursed through them both and Jem only saw the new ravener demon when it was too close to them. His jaw clenched and Will understood and turned with him, a hand going to his sword without hesitation, his senses sharpening again. Jem felt Will move beside him, but the demon took a leap and climbed up the nearest building. Jem threw a dagger at it and severed one of its legs, causing it to fall off the wall, but not hurting it enough to kill it. He lunged forward and sliced a cut on its side as Will slashed another of its legs off, their movements swift and sure, steadied by the strength of the parabatai in battle.

Jem managed to cut the demon's tail and it soon vanished back to its dimension, but before he could see or hear it, another ravener demon crawled up to him from behind, and Will lunged forward to cover him as it attacked.

Everything seemed to happen too fast. Jem saw Will running to him and throwing his blade at the demon, but before he could kill it, the tail reached his chest. Then he saw Will fall on the ground and the world seemed to vanish. He ran to him, slashing at the demon and sending it back to its dimension, but his vision was blackened at the edges and his chest hurt. He kneeled besides his parabatai and took out his stele. Will's blue eyes were closed and his breaths ragged and heavy.

“Will. Will, wake up. Open your eyes!” Jem drew three iratzes on his chest and Will's eyes fluttered open; Jem let out the breath he'd been holding.

“Jem” Will whispered, before a violent cough shook his body. He coughed blood.

Jem drew another iratze on Will's chest but the wound didn't seem to grow any smaller and the blood wouldn't stop flowing. He felt a wave of panic catch hold of him as the pain in his chest widened. He felt heavy and lost, and Will was shutting his eyes again. “Will don't close your eyes, please. Stay with me.”

Jem drew another iratze, then another one, but nothing happened. Will's breathing was slowing and he was loosing too much blood. Jem felt him slipping away. He summoned all the strength he could muster, picked up Will and ran to the institute.

———

Everything in him hurt, and Jem couldn't tell whether it was the aftermath of the battle, the effort of carrying Will, the yin fen low in his blood or Will's own pain getting to him. But he didn't care about his own pain as two Silent Brothers told him that Will's wound was deep, no vital organs were damaged but his situation was delicate.

“Will he recover?” asked Charlotte from beside him.

We cannot know yet. We will come back tomorrow to see that the injury is not infected.

Jem let the words sink in. He couldn't find anything to say or ask.

He walked in the infirmary and as his eyes laid on Will's body, still on the white sheets, his heart skipped several beats. It felt wrong. Will was always moving, always talking, always full of life. Now he laid too still, his face expressionless and his blue eyes shut.

Jem took a deep breath, then he grabbed a chair and sat besides his parabatai. He took one of Will's hands in his and brought it to his lips. “My Will” he whispered against his scarred knuckles.

———

For four days Jem didn't leave Will's side. The Silent Brothers came to check on his parabatai’s injury and they seemed less hopeful every passing day. Charlotte came in too, every day. Jem knew it costed her dearly: he could see the pain and guilt in her eyes, the fear of the knowledge that Will might not wake and that she would have been the one to send him off to his last mission. Jem wished to console her, to reassure her that Will did it to save Jem and he would have done the same for his parabatai, and that Will was stubborn and no one could have stopped him. He wished to tell her not to worry, because his parabatai would open his eyes again. But the words caught on his lips every time he tried to speak them.

Henry, Sophie and Jessamine visited too, but the sight of Will, so silent and still troubled them too. Charlotte brought in food for Jem and pleaded him to eat and go to sleep for a while, she would watch over Will, but Jem couldn't leave and he wasn't hungry.

When the Brother came back on the fourth day Jem only heard their words from a great distance.

We cannot do anything more. Should he not wake in the next 48 hours his condition will worsen.

Jem's breathing hitched. He felt something inside him break as he sat back next to Will. His Will. The other half of his soul.

He felt the thread between them loosen, he had been feeling it for days, but he clung to it like a lifeline. A tear rolled down his cheek as he leaned on and pressed his forehead to Will's, closing his eyes. “You do not get to leave first” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You don't get to leave me alone on this earth, Will Herondale. That is not how it was supposed to go.” His voice broke and he let the tears roll down, unable to stop the pain that was invading his heart. Jem took his parabatai's hand and squeezed it hard, willing him to open his eyes, to protest about the tight grip and make one of his witty remarks. “Prove me” he continued, “how truly stubborn you are. Prove me Raziel would truly send you back out of annoyance. Come back to me, Will.”

———

When he opened his eyes the light of morning painted the room in tones of yellow and gold. He didn't remember falling asleep. He shouldn't have fallen asleep.

He turned his head with a swift movement and his breath caught. Will was awake. Strands of dark curls clouded his eyes, open and beautifully blue, his face was still paler than usual but his features were relaxed and his lips curved in a smile. His hand was still clutched in Jem's.

“Oh Will.” Jem surged forward and hugged his parabatai, nuzzling his head in the curve of his neck and burying his hands in his dark hair. He heard Will chuckle and everything in the world and inside him fell back into place.

“Easy, easy” Will said, laughing softly. “I still have a massive gash somewhere around my person, I hear. Let us hope it won't scar my beautiful body too badly.”

Jem drew back and laughed as he apologized, but he stayed close to Will and drank the brilliance of his smile and the light gleaming in his eyes.

Will was finally awake.

“Oh, Will” he repeated, resting a hand on Will's cheek. “I was so worried. I felt– I felt something slitting our bond and I thought– ”

“I know” Will said before he could finish. “I felt it too. And it was worse than the pain of the wound.” He squeezed Jem's hand. “I'm sorry” he said.

“Don't you dare apologize.” Will smiled and dipped his head. “But don't ever do this again, please.”

Will's eyes met his and his parabatai’s smile grew bigger. He nodded firmly and pulled Jem in for another hug.

Jem knew that was a frail promise. Will would throw himself in front of any demon to shield Jem countless times again, if it meant he would save his life. And so would Jem. They would be in that room again, tending to wounds less serious, he hoped, but it would happen. It was the life they’d been given. it was the life they chose.

The words of the parabatai oath echoed in the back of his mind and he thought of how much of a gift and an honour it was to have, and to be, a parabatai, but how much strength it required, too.

And, as he watched the light shine in Will's eyes, he thought that Will had been his strength all along, when he couldn't fight for himself or find hope in the depth of his bones. Will was his heart, and he’d been too close to losing him.

tag list: @cordaisya @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @stxr-thxif @icycoolslushie @writeforjordelia @gabtapia @fair-childd @clarys-heosphoros (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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The General (part 9.5): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: it’s over. the ruse is up.

wc: 2.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Have you ever considered just not going to meet the Prince and remaining in your rooms?” Kaori wonders as you sharpen a blade with a rock. “I mean, I’m sure he wouldn't bother you if you assumed the appearance of an invalid. How about getting out of town for a week?”

She’s tried everything to get you to reconsider your stance on killing Prince Naoya. Any theory, any loophole, any cop-out; Kaori’s said it. But you have no choice. Geto has to be avenged, and the only way you can manage vengeance is killing the man who sent your lover to his death.

“Listen, we have only a couple of days left. We can use poison, strangulation, accidental drowning, and straight-up murder - which I think is the messier of the bunch.” Toji ticks off methods as he watches you work away at the blade with determination. “I vote we poison his food, and if that doesn’t work, smothering can go a long way.” Megumi peers into the little pond in front of him as his father discusses treason, entirely uninterested in anything but finding another frog to play with. You envy the child and wish that you could take his place, forgetting everything else except the current pursuit of a frog. But your frog is much more elusive, slippery, and well-guarded.

“We have to drug the guards first,” you note, and Toji grunts affirmatively, biting his lip as he stares past you, deep in thought. You look at the scar on his mouth and squint, wondering if you’re just now noticing the pink-ish raised mark or if you’d seen it before, but never noted the way it looks against his tanned skin in the sunlight. You look away before anyone can accuse you of staring, but make a note to ask about the injury later.

“How can you be assured that none of this will affect your parents?” Kaori wonders, and you look at her with a pensive stare.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t affect them. They know nothing of the plot and I--”

“If you’re dead, you can’t defend them,” she reminds you, and for a moment, you reconsider the plan altogether.

“Toji, do you think you could get my parents out of here safely?”

“I can’t guarantee shit,” he replies, resting his chin on his palm as his green eyes focus in on you again. “But I can sure as hell try.” He adds when you give him a defeated look. You respond to his addition with a half-smile, and he rolls his eyes at the sight, huffing out a short breath.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Try and hit me,” Toji encourages you, and you reach a hand out to slap him across the face. But you miss entirely and stumble forward, almost face-planting into the ground. “You can’t put all of your force in your upper body like that.” He chastises, stepping in front of you again.

“Give me a rake and we’ll see about that,” you counter, earning you a loud laugh. Toji takes his stance again, hands prepared for a fight.

“Come on, little girl, put up a serious fight. You don’t need a rake.” You inhale deeply, centering yourself with one foot placed behind you at an angle and one foot in front, planted firmly into the dirt. “Hit me.”

The roundhouse kick narrowly misses Toji’s tan face, and his eyes widen as your heel barely scrapes his nose.

“I said hit me, not kill me!” The bodyguard gripes, and you laugh at his overly-surprised expression and step back, holding your stomach as you bend over in a fit of giggles. When you stop and straighten back up, you catch Toji staring at you in wonder.

“What?”

“Your laugh… I’ve never heard you laugh like that before.” At the mention of your enjoyment, you hum thoughtfully, realizing, yes - you hadn’t laughed so heartily in a long time. But in his moment of unguardedness, you shoot your hand out - the fist making contact with his gut immediately. He grunts, holding his abs and wincing a little. “You… fucking... bi--” Before he can finish his sentence and grab you, you take off for the hill behind the house, laughing as you run with all of your might.

But Toji catches up to you easily, grabbing your elbow and making you tumble to the grass, then roll back down the hill in his arms. As you roll - and scream - grass and dirt and wildflowers are kicked up and tossed into your hair and clothes, dirtying your face as well. When you stop though, you’re on top of Toji, and his arms are crushing you against his chest protectively.

“You can let go now,” you groan, and he opens his emerald eyes, staring right into yours with an intensity you’ve only seen on one other person’s face. “Toji…” you whisper, and his face changes again, now softer and much more… relaxed, if that was even possible. He blinks, and you pause, recognizing the meaning behind his looks. “Fushiguro, I--” He lets you go immediately, clearing his throat and standing.

“We should get back before dinner. I’m fucking starving.” He saunters off with his hands in his pockets, not even offering to help you up off of the ground.

_______________________________________________________________________

The moon hovers precariously in the night sky, illuminating the garden directly below it and bathing you in moonlight. You’re only a few hours away from meeting Prince Naoya, and it’s the thought of seeing him face-to-face that keeps you up tonight. What would he look like? Would he know who you are? Would he ask you any questions about Geto?

Your eyes rest on the reflection of the moon in the fountain, Toji’s old dagger resting in your lap.

“It ain’t much,” he mumbled when he handed it to you. “But if something happens, whether it’s with the food or the smothering... You’ve got this dagger.” Then he showed you how to murder someone quickly by using a pillow and your dagger, aiming precisely for the open space between his ribcage. “Stab once, pull it out, and run like hell if you want.”

You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with fresh air.

“Cold out here,” Toji mumbles, rubbing his arms as he walks out of the house barefoot. “Can’t sleep, y/n?”

“No,” you admit, then jerk your chin at him. “You?”

“I don’t get much rest these days,” he replies, sitting beside you at the fountain. “Worried about tomorrow?” You look over at the green-eyed man and blink, your blank expression telling all. “Well, I’m not. You’re going to be fine.”

“And what will you do when you have to watch me be executed?” you tease, but Toji’s eyes fall to the fountain, eyeing the moon’s reflection.

“It’ll be sad. But I understand why you have to do what you’re doing.”

“Toji Fushiguro? Sad?” You laugh, but he gives you a withering look instead of laughing along with you.

“Listen, I’ve made a lot of off-color remarks, but I meant what I said. You’re a great person, and I would hate to see your life go to waste over some petty vendetta.” His mumbling catches you off guard, but you say nothing in response, opting to look down at the dagger instead. “But, you’re determined to pursue your lover into the afterlife; I get it. You must really be in love with him.”

“I am,” you reply, still not looking at Toji.

“Well, since you’re going to die tomorrow, I might as well be transparent with you,” Toji whispers. “You know, looking after you was a pain in the ass at first.” You frown at him, wondering what kind of comment that is, but he continues anyways. “But you grew on me. Shit, watching you for these months has become enjoyable, more exciting than the idiocy I used to do before. Y/n… I’m--” Toji swallows hard, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “I’m... going to miss you.” Toji leans in slowly, placing a rough hand on your right cheek before kissing the other cheek with a tenderness you always knew he held deep inside. Once he pulls away, he stands, raking his hands through his short hair and sighing before walking back into the house. But you’re left outside, wondering what could’ve been if you weren’t so hell-bent on bringing your dead lover justice.

_______________________________________________________________________

The sounds of horses, bells, cheering, chants, cacophony… too much noise.

You can hear it all from your position in the kitchen. The village is louder than it’s ever been before, and all the noise provides the perfect background noise to you and your mother’s preparing food for the six of you already living in the house and about thirteen guests- the seven guards, the four servants, a royal advisor, and finally, Prince Naoya. The resulting feast will outshine any feast your mother has cooked before, and you know that the village will speak of the honor bestowed upon your house and the cooking from it for at least a day.

The next day, they will be lamenting the loss of the eldest son of the Imperial Court, and rejoicing upon your execution. Just like they celebrated Geto’s death.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, Su, you pray as you peel a leek with precision. Only a few more hours and Naoya would be within your reach.

First, you’d drug him with a powder Toji had acquired in exchange for… something unmentionable that he wouldn’t divulge. Second, you would help the prince off to his bed as the drug took hold of him and tuck him in. Then, you’d smother him to death. If that didn’t work - “and there’s a chance that it might not”, Toji warned - you would stab him in the heart. Death would reach the Prince’s soul before the morning light. And you would be ready to die the next day, all to meet Geto in whatever world he had passed on to.

An icy hand grips your heart as the hours pass.

The thought of rejoining your lover - feeling his arms around you, touching his hair, looking into his black eyes - is more than enough for you to pretend everything is alright. All you’re doing is making the most of the last few hours you have with your family, Kaori, Toji, and Megumi. The small child is parading about in his newest outfit, displaying his hakama and haori for all to see and coo over. Toji wears a matching outfit, the clouds and animals drifting about his black haori reminding you of a zoo display and of the days you wish you could have.

You’re wearing your best kimono - the peach one Kaori dressed you in the day you left the camp; Suguru’s mother’s kimono. It’s all too beautiful, really. Everyone is dressed up like royalty, but you’re the only one who came dangerously close to that life and escaped by the grace of a certain General who had your heart. Now, you would murder royalty and die as much of an outcast that Suguru was.

After you wash your hands in the fountain, you place the dagger inside your kimono and look at yourself in the mirror for the last time. Color had returned to your cheeks over the past few days, and a certain look in your eye had become commonplace. You had something to live for, and these days would remain in your memory as the best days you’ve had since Geto died.

“They’re coming up the path,” Kaori hisses as she walks past you, ushering Megumi and Toji to the door behind your mother and father. “Come on.” You follow them obediently, standing behind your father and mother as the procession winds its way down the road. While soldiers, musicians, villagers, everyone is parading in front of the carriage carrying the murderer of your lover, you look to the ground and clench your fists. Your resolve steels itself in your spine as you hear the procession get even closer, the clanging making your jaw tighten and your knees tremble. Too much noise, too much noise, too much noise for a man who slaughtered innocents.

The music dies down when the carriage comes to a halt, but the sound of children excitedly squealing nearby. You keep your eyes downcast, not daring to look the spiteful man in the face or attract attention to yourself. The echo of children’s excited chatter stabs you in the heart even deeper - how could children be excited by this killer? - and you try to block out the memories of Itadori, Junpei, and Nobara, but to no avail.

You’re trying so hard that tears are streaming down your face, and mucus gathers in your nose as you begin to cry quietly. Megumi reaches up to grab your hand tenderly, holding it in his five little fingers as you hear the door to the carriage swing open slowly. You avoid looking, and sniff so hard you almost miss the first words out of a certain blue-eyed bastard’s mouth:

“Whoa; watch your step, Yuji! You don’t want to fall in front of Lady y/n, do you?”

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover @jotazinha @just4readingfics @mxhi @sammytamaki @brownskinnedgirll @keelyshayee @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something

#geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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itsmypeach13 · 3 years

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[Read only if you are okay with female &female relationships. Warning because of strong language, fighting scenes. Rating is +18]

[Hello my ravens! ❤️It's been an eternity but please welcome my second chapter of my Soma POV fanfic, things will get messy and entangled full of angst and more angst. I hope you'll like it, I spiced things up with flirty Valka and women fighting🤭 Let me know what you think in the comments any opinion/thought is welcome🥺❤️]

TALES OF THE BEAR-HEART: SOMA

CHAPTER II.

Battling Hearts

The soft crackling sound of fireflames embracing hardwood woke me up tenderly. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Revna sitting by the fire sharpening her dagger, preparing for the battle ahead of us. Her raven-black long hair was braided at the sides and neatly It must have been around dawn, but it was still pitch-black outside. Busy voices surrounded us, swords clinked, horses were running up and down impatiently, some people shouted over to the other with instructions. Valka's magical sleep potion put me so well to sleep, that I was surprised at myself how late I could join onboard the ship towards the brewing sea of bloodshed. I had to pull myself together and that only worked with some ice-cold river water and some excercise.

'Good morning Revna'-I greeted my warrior as I swiftly sat up and put on my stone-hard armor.

'To you as well.'-she wiked at me playfully and lifted up the pair of the iconic hammers fixating them on her sides. ' Now you slept well for sure, how is that you sleep the soundest when battle is so near?-she laughed a little and took a sip of water from the table.

'Valka's hand in that.-I raised my brows slightly. 'Sorry, I didn't plan to start like this Revna. I have to go now and freshen up. Shall we meet at the entrance of the longhouse?'

'You're such a womanizer you know that right?'-she held up her tusk. ' Valka is a fine woman, I am happy for you now. I will meet you there nevertheless.'

'Ha!..You're absolutely misunderstanding, but I have to rush now.'- After this conversation, the fine shilouette of Valka's back flashed through my mind from last night. I quickly stepped into reality once I was out of my hut. The Raven warriors painted their faces with red and white strokes, most of them were saddling the horses.

I hurried to the shores of the river nearby, finally allowing my flaming skin to meet with the freezing waves of water. I gathered some liquid in my palms so that I could splash it onto my face over and over again. It felt like a hit on my cheeks that put me into the right battling spirits, and imagining Randvi's head on the enemy's helped a lot also.

I did some stretching and sprinting in the shores, while sloppy waves embraced the land. I was sharpening my axe and asked for Thor's strength and blessing, when I heard cat-like footsteps from behind approaching me.

'Your blade is already sharp enough, Bear-heart'-said Valka smirking, while she walked up to me.

'I could cut down a village with it yes. I guess it's just my ritual before I actually do it.'

'I bought you some food, here, some died figs with bread and a slice of boar meat from last night.'- she kindly handed over the plate.

'Thank you Valka, the gods bless your kind spirit. This will help me to do my best today. For Ravensthorpe..and Eivor.' While I started eating quickly, we sat by the shore and Valka carried on.'

'Soma, you have to remember, whatever happens today, you can count on me, you know where to find me. I saw into your soul last night and found loneliness there. But you are not so alone.' -she stroked my arm then stood up and disappeared in the crowd of warriors.

I was startled a bit, the last piece of bread almost choked me. Was that a friendly invite to her hut? I mean, private hut? I guess she needs cleaning there if you know what I mean. Who would have thought.

***

When I rode to the longhouse, a massive crowd of warriors have gathered in front of the building. The golden locks of Eivor showed up with that deadly, stern smirk on her face. She was riding a snow-white mare with her armor glistening in the awakening morning sunrays. A huge hunnish bow spread on her broad back and two axes were fixated on her sides, one can never be so sure with just one, right? Randvi followed her closely, rumour has it that she is going in battle after long years spent in the map room. I was curious how she would perform outside these walls. Revna joined me swiftly and we quickly caught up with Eivor and other leaders riding in the front.

As if she sensed my closeness, the wolf-kissed greeted me with a wide smile.

'Morning Soma, I hope you are ready to spill some blood today with me.'

How could she know I was ready to do anything with her, my eyes wandered on those rosy lips talking to me. She looked stunning with freshly dried warpaint framing her ocean eyes.

'I will smash skulls today, as my father taught me'I assured her. ' You don't want to make it a contest, I am the champion in this.'

'We'll see, I will beat your ass.' Eivor uttering those words brought me to the depts of my wildest fantasies for a moment. Holy mother of.. A shiver went through my spine as I actually pictured this. 'Okay, whoever wins this beheading game will pay for the best ale in land for a week.'

'That's a deal, officially.'-Eivor agreed playfully.

As we left Ravensthorpe Randvi joined us to briefly go through our plans , and of course to keep an eye on her drengr.

'Hi Soma..I hope you haven't lacked the care and wealth of Ravensthorpe.'

'Thanks Randvi, I had everything I needed' except for Eivor in my bed last night, but I guess that's the VIP package. It’s good I didn’t say this out loud.

'Good. Now our plans are the following. Eivor and you will hide in the thick bushes of the main road on both sides with our archers. When Birna's army is well inside the trap, Eivor will sign you with her horn, then both of your teams will fire and wipe out as many as you can. I will wait for Eivor's horn and join with a group on horsebacks to push them back towards the hills where their camp is. We'll follow them and burn it down to force them out of mainland.

Cheolbert's army will be only used if necessary. They are stationed on the right side of the forest.'

'Smart plan Randvi, I am sure we can protect our people, which is the most important aim, I feel honoured to be here today and lead this army' -Eivor answered then we positioned our forces in the thick undergrowth of the main road. Some archers even hid high on the old oak trees to have a nice and deadly view on the road. Our eyes met with Eivor and I was once again stunned by those piercing blue eyes, radiating godlike power and trust in me. She made me weak with one stern look, this feeling was brand new for me..Soma trembling like a leaf in the autumn breeze? My eyes wandered lower, on Eivor’s bulging arms holding those big, heavy axes.

Revna positioned herself right beside me like a protective bastian ready to spill blood, her hands firmly gripping the two hammers.

’They will eat my hammer for breakfast.’-she whispered to me, keeping her voice down.

A medium group of soldiers were nearing our forces, all of them on horseback.

They were led by a young woman with blood red hair, riding on a pitch-black horse. Just before Eivor could use her horn to give the sign for us to attack them, the enemy started throwing flaming throving balls into the thick and completely dry undergrowth that caught on fire in no time. They knew exactly where we were hiding, forcing us to be distracted for a second and be stunned by their unexpected moves. Revna quickly brought me back to reality with her loud roar she jumped out of the bushes and ranted at our enemy. As if she were a deadly panther, she pulled a man down from his straddle , threw him on the ground finally smashing his face on both sides with her double hammers. What left off that head was forming an unrecognizable mixture of broken bones and flesh.

I joined her swiftly and shouted at all of my men:'Don't just stare, cut all of the bastards down and burn their flesh!' The archers could perform a swift attack from above before the flames got to the upper branches, then joined us from behind our shield wall Eivor was forming with the Ravens.

I quickly got on my horse and joined at the side of Revna, who was sandwiched between two twin shieldmaidens fighting with swords. Just before the bigger one could plunge her longsword into Revna's spine, I trapped her with my axe, agressively pulled her body to mine from behind holding her still for a moment shouting in her face: 'I will burn your whole village for this.' -then I slit her throat and pushed the body down to the dust. My face became sprayed with fresh blood, and I could see Revna kept herself busy, the other one joined her sister in death.

-Thanks Soma, I am glad you have my back, literally -Revna shouted at me with ave.

-I am never late, you know me.-I winked at her assuringly. -someone betrayed us Revna..we have to find that son of a bitch. -I shouted back while I saw a huge man charging at me with a poisoned axe.

-You will die bitch-his deep growl ecoed in my ears as I prepared for defense. I thought I would end him with my wit instead of my valuable strength, I slipped between his legs and cut right into his balls leaving him a suffering mess falling on his knees, and finally collapsing in the bloody pond forming underneath.

-Not today, bastard.-I stated. While we fought our way a little further with Revna I quickly looked behind my back to see how Eivor was holding up. Then I saw the blood-haired war-chief woman charging on her horse at full speed towards the wolf-kissed, she wanted to end Eivor. Her plan was to cut the head of the snake, I saw her green eyes burning with ambition, fury and wrath, she jumped off of her horse slamming Eivor to the ground. Unfortunately, the charging horse killed several men around Eivor failing to hold the shield wall.

I felt my heart beating in my throat , as both Eivor and that killer bitch disappeared from my sight behind the crowd of clashing soldiers.

-Revna, you have to hold this mess, I will be back!-I gave my clear orders to my right hand , and with that I ran into Eivor’s direction as if there was no tomorrow. Many men tried to stop me on my way, but I cut them all, roaring like a beast, both of my arms were drenched in blood. The inner bear has awoken. I saw Randvi charging on her horse towards the same spot, my worry mirrored in her desperate eyes. She fought like an amazon, a tiger let out of her cage , she was never really tamed behind that map table after all. I must admit she fought fiercely. Her long copper braid was dancing around in circles as she slain anyone who got near her. Unexpectedly, her horse got an arrow in the front leg, causing Randvi to fell foward harshly, she was flying several meters from the saddle. The killer-witch had supporter archers at the top of a nearby rock, they were backing their leader and her evil plans.

I didn't have time to care for Randvi, I slammed into the shield wall to see what was happening with Eivor behind it.

The blood-witch was strangling Eivor with her strong arm, Eivor had deep cuts on her own arms and her side. Fuck.. she really didn't see it coming.. oh that fucking bitch ! Eivor wanted to kick her in the face but her legs were entangled in strong hold by that serpent. She fought differently, wrestled her enemy, held the body in position to slowly end it with deadly cuts. I couldn't let her finish her work..my heart would break in two for an eternity..

I grabbed her hair pulling her upwards, while I watched her cry out from the pain.

-Hey, you blood whore, don't you dare to move or I will cut your pretty head off. Eivor broke free swiftly, but instinctively put her right hand on her ribs. I saw a considerable blood stain growing there, which felt like a punch in my stomach. It seemed I actually got one, as the redhead tried to break away. Just before I could end her, I felt a powerful but blunt hit on my back, an arrow's burning head fought it's way into my flesh. I instantly fell on my knees then I started to crawl on the ground ghasping the dust.

Eivor didn't give a fuck about her serious wound on her side she ran towards that sly whore to avenge this mess. Randvi arrived just in time her huge smash with her shield put the escaping rat onto the ground. The blood-witch was cornered and there was no way out. My sight became blurry and I wanted to vomit from the pain that radiated into my chest and my back.

'Tie this one up quickly, we'll inerrogate her at Ravensthorpe. Randvi instructed two soldiers. -Oh God..Eivor you're bleeding-she mumbled with care as she stepped to the wolf-kissed, her eyes wandered on the huge blood stain. Randvi's bottom lip was craked and bleeding, probably from a huge stroke.

'I am fine Randvi, bring our forces left to safety, we have to retreat, now' Eivor's raspy voice echoed, turning to Randvi. 'I can only thank my life to Soma' Eivor hurried to me while Randvi called a retreat to Ravensthorpe, we could defend the way from the woods but it was clearly a trap. Somebody gave valuable information to the enemy, Birna and Ivarr could attack any moment.Both sides lost countless men, the woods was in flames around us.

'My poor bird..' Eivor whispered calmly, holding me in her arms in a second sitting on her knees on the ground. She turned my body really slowly to spare me from the additional pain, I could have screamed out loud in my despair, but I couldn't show the slightest sign of weakness while she was around me.

'I m have to get this out now' she said apologetically, furrowing her brows.

I couldn't speak as I felt my power leaving me, I was close to fainting, so I just nodded and let myself concentrate on those strong arms being folded around me. This was the closest Eivor ever got to me.. my heart was burning and beating fast both from the trauma I endured and the excitement that was ruling over me inside.

'I will be as quick and gentle as possible'Eivor promised with a light smile.

I held onto her arm and mumbled a few words:'Just do it, please..' I closed my eyes knowing what will come.

Eivor clearly had pratice in this, as she firmly held onto the arrow, turned it slightly in my flesh, then pulled it out with a powerful move.

It felt as if a burning blade was turned inside me ripping out my flesh. The pain was undescribable with words, I cried out, my eyes became blurry with tears.

'Fucking GOD' I shouted.

'The worst is over Soma, I promise. I can thank my life to you, so I am in your debt, I will help you through this and bring you to Valka.' Eivor lifted me up, placed one of my arms around her neck and holding my weight with her arms below my knees. ' 'I got you now -she gently stroked my arm and carried me to her horse, we headed back to Ravensthorpe with our forces left , following Randvi's soldiers.

As we rode along those old oak trees I could feel the sweet scent of Eivor's skin around her collarbone as I laid my head on her broad chest. Small sweatdrops were glistening on her perfect face while her ice-blue eyes stayed focused on the road, I could watch this living statue of perfection all day.

Spring breeze played on my cheeks while I closed my eyes to just feel the bumps and turns of the road.

I couldn't get a peaceful monent as my thoughts caused me an inner turmoil. Where the hell was Revna? Did she join to Randvi and her forces? How am I supposed to fight like this? The hardest part of this battle is still ahead of us..I came here to defend Ravensthorpe, not to behave like a whining child. And who was that blood-haired shieldmaiden?

***

#ac eivor #eivor #eivor wolfkissed #female eivor #lady eivor #assassin's creed valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #ac soma #somabearheart #soma jarlskona #eivor x soma #randvi #ac valhalla fanfic

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

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Another One Bites the (Star)Dust pt2

Hey guys! Welcome to the next part of the newest installment of the Space and Everything In It series! Buckle up; its a fun one!

If you need a refresher, here’s the [previous chapter!]

Summary: Late at night, Virgil has a run in with the ship’s unfavored guest and Remus is rather insistent to turn it into a game of life and death.

Words: 8016

TW: Blood, Non-con drugging, Mentions of murder, forced attempted suicide

Quick Taglist: @alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

“Certainty” wasn’t something that Virgil had in excess of all the way out in Space. There were always so many things he didn’t know, didn’t understand, didn't think to think of. He was constantly having to rework his understanding of planets and governmental structures and alien niceties because he just didn’t know what he was doing. Roman, Patton, and Logan sometimes forgot that he didn’t grow up learning about interplanetary wars and peace treaties and trading policies and it always came as a shock to them when he had to ask what the hell they were talking about. Virgil lived and breathed by trial and error and tried his very hardest not to do the error part.

So certainty was hard to come by these days.

However, he was certain that if Remus didn’t let him go in the next five minsannu Virgil’s lungs were going to implode and his neck was going to snap and he was going to be a very unhappy ghost.

The dust was not grey, Virgil thought, even as he saw the flutters of it flash on the back of his eyelids, imprinted like scars on his brain that just wouldn’t heal over. The dust was not grey and it wasn’t real because there was no dust on Roman’s ship and-- oh god he was going to die and they weren’t going to find his body.

Remus’s tail jerked and Virgil felt where the muscle tightened and the half regrown bone plates rotated in return, like knives all on their own. Virgil was pretty sure that his hands were bloody messes from trying to get between the mass and his throat, trying to loosen it a bit, trying to get air to his lungs and his feet back to the ground and his body somewhere that wasn’t there.

His head felt like it was full of fuzz, full of buzzing and screeching and alarms. Even in the darkness he could make out Remus’s face watching him with deep dark eyes that were twisted paradies of Roman’s, because Virgil had seen Roman’s so often, so much and associated them with the driven determination that bordered on self sacrifice and these weren’t those eyes.

Despite them being the same murky brown, Remus’s eyes different; there was something in them that Virgil’s panicking brain was screaming about, something that made his grin sinister where Roman’s was always charming, something that told Virgil Remus would enjoy watching the light leave his eyes. Something that told Virgil his own dull reflection in those eyes would be the last thing he saw before he passed on.

And Virgil did not come all this way to die because of Remus-- fucking-- Prince.

Really! At this point it would be a fucking insult to die becuase of an Erefren in the middle of space because he was too stupid to just go back to sleep and pretend like he didn’t need to see a space therapist for the traumatic-borderline-stupid nightmares he kept having.

He’d survived the accusation of murdering his best-friend-maybe-more, survived the humiliation of being stripped of everything that he owned by aliens, survived the Welsor Fighting Rings six fucking times, survived the mercanaries, the bounty hunters, the government agents-- everything that had come after him and his family in the past two years. He survived the Pol’turs and he survived getting Janus back.

He survived that, and no one was ever going to know about it because in the end Remus was going to send his lifeless corpse out the airlock because it was that easy to get rid of the evidence when you lived in Space. No wonder the space police went around trying to catch them with illegal merchandise. It wasn’t like they could prove or solve murder--

He gasped for air that couldn’t fit in his fiery lungs, and his eyes felt a bit like they were going to pop right out of his head with the pounding pressure building up from a heartbeat that he couldn’t keep going. His vision blurred, bubbled and popped until all he could see were blobs in the darkness. Unrecognizable blobs. His legs kicked, jerked, swung...fell... and... his... hands…drop...pe...d….

Virgil gasped for air like a drowning man-- or a suffocated one. His lungs burned hotter than any star he’d ever had the pleasure of hearing Logan ramble about. His head swam in the agony, in the stimuli that screamed from so many places that he couldn’t even see what was in front of him. He was faintly aware of his shuddering chest, of his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and the raspy feeling of oxygen tearing through his esophagus like a pair of dull scissors through felt, handled by a second grader who’s fingers weren’t big enough to grip them properly.

His limbs were moving-- or rather being moved, but the moment the thought came to him was the moment he was also pressing his cheek against the cold polyfurnish flooring to alleviate at least one of the alerts in his brain. He thought he was crying, too. Crying over air that he didn’t think had ever been so sweet.

“Deathworlder, huh?” A voice said from over him, and Virgil tried to kick at it, only to find his legs weren’t moving quite right when the action jerked at his wrists and nearly dislodged his arms from their sockets and that was not good. “I used to think you guys were cool as fuck. Then I met one.”

Virgil coughed and curled in on himself, but his arms were trapped behind his back, and his shoulders cried weakly at the movement while his bloody fingers twitched. He shoved his face into the floor again, in a move that he thought probably looked really pitiful-- like if he couldn’t see the blob towering over him with a too-sharp-too-many-teeth grin, then Remus would just stop being there altogether.

Instead Remus’s foot came out and nudged his face. And then he kicked at Virgil’s knees and forced his body to twist until he was mostly facing upwards with his soft insides ready for plucking straight out of his stomach. His chest shuddered again, and his wrists yanked against whatever it was that Remus had bound him up with-- Virgil didn’t recognize the feeling of the material, but he was only used to being bound by polyfurnish chains that could absorb heat from an imploding star itself and metal handcuffs rom when the police wanted to pick him up for questioning for the second time in a week for something like jaywalking and ended up asking what he did to Janus Ekans anyway.

Whatever this was, it felt more like… like… fabric. Roman’s sash, or a T-shirt, but strong enough that there was no give, or knotted enough that Virgil’s stupid monkey brain couldn’t figure out how to undo it before Remus decided how to undo him.

Remus for his part just watched him for a minsannu, quisannu, phisannu-- Long enough that Virgil’s breath didn’t get any stronger and he couldn’t scream for help because of it. Remus crouched at his knees, draping his arms over his kneecaps, watched Virgil’s chest shake with a fascination while his fucking tail wagged in the background. Virgil caught sight of a dark liquid on one of the bone plates when it crossed into the line of red light and his entire body wracked with attempts to put distance between himself and Remus.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Remus said.

“Pl...eas…” Virgil gasped. “Fu..ck…Remus…”

Remus smiled wider, his lips cracking apart his face to show off all three rows of teeth that encircled his mouth and throat, sharpened like daggers. There was a chasm where his face should have been and Virgil tried to shove with his feet again, but they just yanked on his hands and forced his shoulders farther back like some type of back-fucking-bend.

“Roman loved hearing tales about creatures like you,” Remus said casually, like his voice alone wasn’t causing complete terror to crawl up Virgil’s throat and yank out his tongue. “They always made you guys sound like juggernauts. Unkillable beasts. Gods. When Roman was ten revolutions old he said he was going to exterminate all the Deathworlders so that no one else would be scared anymore.”

Remus looked down at Virgil and his eyes were empty abysses larger than black holes and colder than them too.

“Doesn’t look like he did too well on that front,” Remus said. “Guess I oughta help him with that.”

Remus’s hand reached out suddenly-- but Virgil’s brain saw it in slow motion, like Remus was reaching through a bowl of Shishdouble to wrap his claws around Virgil’s throat again. Virgil babbled out something, begging, pleading, and his bruised and sore body writhed against his bonds and the floor in desperate, hopeless movements.

((Virgil never wondered what worms felt like when they were plucked out of the ground and suspended in the air. He wasn’t pleased to know.))

Remus’s fingers were cold-- cold like ice that Janus had once shoved down his back in the middle of the night while they were sneaking food from the kitchen, cold like the metal chair he’d been forced to sit in while police officers and detectives asked him the same questions over and over and over again, cold like the endless expanse of space that surrounded their very tiny ship in the perfect graveyard for souls no one would remember to miss.

Virgil could feel each of Remus’s fingers pressing over his heaving throat. His claws were close to breaking Virgil’s tissue paper skin and his thumb sat right on Virgil’s pulse feeling for the way his hummingbird heart struggled to keep Virgil functioning. Just a squeeze and Virgil would be gone, just a curl of fingers and his blood would be all over the floor, just a twitch and Virgil would never have to think about the difference between grey and blue or what the last thing he said to Janus was.

“But you know,” Remus said. “I’m a pretty generous guy! I’ll give you one chance to convince me not to!”

“Fu..ck…” Virgil managed. “You.”

Remus brought up his other hand, and Virgil reactively squeezed his eyes closed. His heart stuttered, stuttered, stopped in his frantic chest, holding and waiting for the pain from whatever Remus was going to do to him for that; his claws were sharp enough to drag down Virgil’s cheeks, to cut out his tongue, to carve out his eyes--

But in the end all he did was use a finger to lift one of Virgil strands of hair off his sweat drenched forehead.

“That’s not very convincing at all.”

Virgil wanted to hiss at him, something threatening and violent like the Deathworlders of all the tales Remus was thinking of. But his mouth was dry, and all he could see was the last row of teeth in Remus’s mouth. He had never wished so badly that he was bad at math: because surely if he wasn’t able to count every inch between Remus’s pointed teeth and his own throat, then it wouldn’t be happening, right?

“Hmmm,” Remus said, possibly delightedly when Virgil’s voice failed him and his lungs begged for a mercy that Virgil couldn’t provide, because breathing means movement and the dumb rabbit part of his brain kept insisting that if he didn’t move, Remus wouldn’t see him. “Maybe I’ll just leave you here, Cikeriy-tied. Can you squeal, little Cikeriy? Squeal for me?”

Virgil didn’t make a sound, and honestly he wasn’t sure if that was the best move or not: angring Remus when he was already so close to death by not playing along with his sick-as-fuck game verses keeping what little diginity he had managed to retain after the Welsor Fighting Rings. Virgil’s throat tasted like blood coated dust and the bonds around his wrists and ankles dug into his skin the same way the chains at the Rings would, before Logan had come and freed him.

Instead he squeezed his eyes closed, counted to a frantic, unprovable five, and then he lunged straight up with all of his might. Remus didn’t have time to drop him, or move back and Virgil gladly took the blossoming pain in his forehead as payment for at least wiping that smug grin off the alien’s face as he hit the floor again.

Remus cursed in Erefreian, sounding a lot like Virgil’s Spanish Teacher when she saw the results after her quizzes and realized that bar Perfect Janus Ekans, no one was going to be passing her class that year. Remus pulled away and the red dulled light from the hall painted him in an astonishingly terrifying light. Virgil snarled at him the best he could when his heart was pounding in his ears and all he wanted was to scream for help but the words choked in his throat.

((Because if he screams, he thinks someone might come. And that would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? Patton or Logan or Roman throwing open the door just in time to see Remus slice his throat open and spray his blood all over the Computer console? Virgil could forgive himself for a lot of things, but causing his family to think “if they had only been a little faster” was where he drew every single line every single time.))

Remus’s claws came back from his forehead, shamefully lacking any blood, though there might have been some type of bruising. Not that it would matter much considering the thickness of Erefreian skin; Remus wouldn’t even feel it in a few quisannu and no one else would ever know. He laughed, short, quick, and breathy and Virgil almost thought that he might be surprised.

“Oh,” Remus said and Virgil didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t think he wanted to find out.

He twisted his fingers and grabbed a hold of the knot tying his feet to his arms with the little give that there was. His hamstrings whined at the pull but Virgil only needed a minasunnu to create the 3D model in his head so that he knew where to wriggle and where to pull and where to curl-- like the worst kind of interactive puzzle and if he failed, he was going to die.

No pressure.

Virgil yanked his arms free just as Remus lunged for him again. He rolled and the alien hit the floor heavily where he’d been, with his tail already swinging at where Virgil was going, which was hilarious on some level because not even Virgil knew where he was going, but Remus seemed to predict it anyway. The bone plates on the edge of his tail were sharpened and they carved violent arcs into the wall in front of Virgil forcing him deeper into the room and farther from any sort of help.

He blocked the way to the only exit and Virgil scrambled backwards until he felt the floor vent that circled about two feet from the escape pods under his shoes. His chest heaved, and his vision danced between being hyper focused on every detail about Remus and being blurred so badly Virgil couldn’t have seen his own hand in front of his face. Distantly his fingers were aching with the cuts from the bone plates already, his blood made it hard to concentrate on the here-and-now and not the there-and-then.

((The Dust is not real. The blood is his own. There were no screaming crowds, no beaming sun, no grit under his nails--))

The floor was clear, he was empty handed, and while Virgil’s handprint, however bloody, could probably open the doors to an escape pod behind him, he didn’t think he’d be able to close them before Remus could follow after. Virgil’s head rang from the earlier impact, turning his carefully cultivated plans to fragments in his head with nothing to do. He was cornered in the worst part of the ship, with the worst person to be cornered with.

Remus was grinning again, crouching on the floor like a lion about to pounce, but wanted to have his fun first.

“What’s your plan here?” Remus asked. “Gonna call for help, little Cikeriy? Go on! I’d love to see the look on your face when you realize no one is going to come for you.”

“What… did… you do?” Virgil said between gasps. The chill of the ship cut through his thin sleep shirt, and made his skin feel too small, too little, not enough. Roman had been okay at dinner earlier, he knew-- a little more tired than normal, a little more snappish but he’d been that way since he had taken to keeping Remus away from anything important around the ship all day every day, because he didn’t trust Remus around any of the rest of them. Patton had made ten puns, which was one less than usual but Virgil had thought it was just because Logan had been excitedly telling them about--something fuck, a star? A research paper? Janus had kissed him like a nebula exploding and wished him a good night.

They’d been fine. Virgil had made sure of it. There was nothing that Remus could have--

And yet Remus’s grin etched wider, crueler, violenter. “Do you know the main difference between me and your lovely little Prince of the Stars? Other than the fact that I’m just the sexier twin, of course. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know. Roman doesn’t like to talk about the family disappointment.”

Virgil took a step back and Remus took one forward, like a game of tag. His tail swayed behind him looking deceivingly lackadaisical for a murder weapon.

“You see little Crikeriy--” Remus said with his eyes glinting at the nickname. “Erefrens like to fight, and your little Princey over there is the perfect little soldier! A killing machine when he isn’t so concerned about messing up his hair! Those toxins of his? Wowza! They’ve always packed a punch. Even when we were kids!”

Virgil didn’t like how he said punch. He didn’t like the way that Remus talked about Roman. He didn’t like the implication that Roman used those toxins on Remus before. He didn’t like the idea of anyone screaming the way that Orlen thief had back when he’d first seen Roman use it effectively.

He didn’t like the way Remus’s head tilted, like he was remembering the feeling of all his atoms igniting on fire and wanted to see if Virgil could feel that way, too.

“The pack was so proud the first time his toxins came in,” Remus said. “Much less proud when mine came in; after all what is causing immeasurable pain to your enemies compared to simply putting them to fucking sleep?”

Virgil jerked back another step and Remus took a generous one forward.

“It’s not glamorous enough,” Remus said, something slipping into his tone, dark and heavy and bloody. “That’s what they told me, my pack. There’s no honor in killing someone who’s asleep. No honor gained from resisting the pain when there’s no pain at all. It didn’t matter who I could knock out with just a drop of my toxins; I was always going to be nothing compared to Roman. He took my pack from me-- so I told myself I’d take his from him too. And I’d use my toxins to do it.”

“You…put them…?” Virgil dug his nails into his palms, his fingers sticking together in the excess of blood. “When... ?”

Remus laughed, “What, you think that anyone on this ship pays attention to what they’re eating? Roman is so wrapped up in his little fantasy that nothing can go wrong for him that he never notices when I put things in his drinks. Patton and Logan were child’s play. The only hard one was Janus-- ya never know with you Deathworlders what’s gonna work and what’s just gonna make you drowsy.”

“You drugged them,” Virgil said, and fought not to think about Janus on the Pol’tur ship struggling to keep his mind focused and so out of it that he nearly knifed Patton when the Reytin was trying to help him, about Janus’s disbelieving eyes when he saw Virgil there and thought it was more likely he was a figment than real, about Janus clinging to him afterwards when they were back on their own ship and Janus didn’t want to fall asleep lest Virgil disappear before he woke back up. “You-- You--!”

Remus looked immensely pleased with the fact, with his wording, with his anger, which made Virgil’s stomach roll all over again. Remus drugged his friends, his family, Janus. He drugged them and didn’t seem to look in any way sorry about it.

“Why not me?” Virgil choked out around the way his head was ringing, the way his blood was singing, the way that his fingers were curling and imagining the thump of a pulse under his thumbs, preferably Remus’s.

Remus flexed his fingers, his claws clinking together in a way that made the hair on the back of Virgil’s neck stand on end, even more than before. “Weren’t you listening? It’s not very fun talking to someone who’s dead asleep, now is it? Asleep people don’t scream the way awake people do.”

Wasn’t that ironic? Virgil’s heart thundered and he took solace in the idea that at least Remus had never been near him when he slept.

“I’m not going to scream,” Virgil said.

“That’s what they all think,” Remus said back.

“I’m not going to scream,” Virgil said, this time with more confidence than he thought he’d ever had before in his life. Stronger than when he’d told Janus that they were going to be friends regardless of what their parents thought, stronger than when he told the police that Janus was not dead, stronger than when he swore to Logan that he was happy here, with them. He wasn’t certain of a lot in space but he was certain of this.

“I’m not going to scream, and you’re not going to get away with whatever the fuck it is you think you’re doing right now.”

He planted his feet on the ground and squared his trembling fists into something that resembled a fighting stance-- not that it was anything official, not that it was anything good, but it was the stance that he had picked up from the Fighting Rings and if he survived that, he was going to survive Remus Prince with it, too, regardless of what his lungs and throat and brain were telling him.

Remus didn’t say anything for a quisannu. In the ruby light and the surplus of shadows it was hard to make out exactly what expression he was holding in his eyes, but Virgil hated how eerily similar it looked to Roman when he was trying to outsmart Logan with wordplay.

“Boorrringgg,” the Erefren decided suddenly, drawing out the syllables until they grated around Virgil’s brain and didn’t sound like actual Common at all.

“What?”

“You’re boring,” Remus said, flicking his tail. “I’m bored.”

“It’s the worst when he’s bored,” Roman had said once upon a time so long ago when Virgil had first asked what the hell a Remus was and why they seemed to like sending waves of assassins and bounty hunters and pirates after them. “Things tend to get… bloody when he’s bored.”

Virgil whose fingers were pulsing from cuts, who’s throat was aching, who could taste copper in his mouth and see specs of scarlet in the dim hall light whether they were real or not, thought that maybe things were already a little bloody. And if that was what it was like before Remus was bored, Virgil really wasn’t going to like whatever was coming.

“I’m not here for your entertainment,” Virgil spat.

“Aren’t you?” Remus grinned again and Virgil flinched at the sight of it. His head screamed at him to get away, get out, get help. But the exit was blocked and Virgil didn’t want to know what Remus would do to anyone who came running to help him, if they came at all. “I can’t think of another reason to keep a little Deathworlder around, you know. You’re all like dangerous little pets no one else wants to get close to. I was thinking when I go off again, I’m gonna take Janus with me-- he’s pretty funny you know, especially when that Sblorp bit him and he was begging us to get it off him.”

((“It was my fault,” Janus had said in a medical bay on the floor, trusting Virgil’s shaking hands to touch when he had no logical reason to. “I didn’t even see the thing until it was two inches from tearing out my large intestine.”))

And Remus was saying that was funny? That he let that happen? That if Remus hadn’t taken pity and helped get it off of Janus Virgil would have never found him again because he’d be dead on some forgotten planet?

Virgil’s nails dug into his palms, just to keep his brain focused on the present and keep himself from doing something extremely stupid, like lauching himself across the room at the smug Erefren and removing each and every bone from his body as painfully as possible.

“No,” Virgil said.

“No?”

“No!” He said again, “I’m not letting you take Janus.”

Not Janus who still smiled like Virgil hung the stars in the sky, who kissed like he wanted the whole cosmos to know Virgil was his, who had always been the strongest person Virgil had ever known. He didn’t care who Remus thought he was, didn’t care if Janus had been coerced to be part of Remus’s crew before, didn’t care at all. That was Janus and Virgil would not let Remus do anything else to him.

He was certain of that.

“Oh? And what if he wants to go with me?” Remus asked, like there was dimension out there where Janus might say yes anyway, where Janus had lost all his sense of self preservation among the nebulas, where Virgil wasn’t ready to claw through the fabrics of space and time and life and death just to make sure Janus didn’t have to.

Virgil tasted blood in the back of his throat, felt the grit in his teeth, smelled the burning of flesh in the air.

“Why would he ever want to go with you? If this is the shit you pull on him? If you’re going to get him killed just because you’re not being entertained? His life is worth more than that and I won’t let you convince him otherwise.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed: dark and dangerous and Virgil’s chest ached with the need to breathe but he ignored it. Alarms rang in the back of Virgil’s mind, singing out warnings that Virgil himself couldn’t even make out because if he took any of his concentration from Remus for a minsannu, everything around him would implode.

“Oh? Well, what about this, little Cikeriy,” the alien said, speaking deliberately slowly so that Virgil couldn’t misunderstand him even if he wanted to. “Let’s play a game, just you and me. I’ll leave Janus all alone, I’ll leave Roman and Patton and Logan all alone, too! When we touch down on TS-625, I’ll take my lovely bag of tricks that you just found and I’ll disappear completely and none of them will have to see me again! Your perfect little pack here can sleep safely knowing that I’m not going to send anymore mercenaries or bounty hunters or government agents after all of you! Doesn’t that sound nice, Cikeriy? I’ll even swear to the great god Disney to never bother them again-- on one condition.”

Virgil’s heart thudded so loudly in his chest he almost couldn't see. Remus’s smile was sharper than a knife, sharper than any of his bone plates, sharper than anything that Virgil had even felt and it cut right through his flesh like it was made of melted butter.

Remus splayed out his hands and wiggled his claws in the darkness.

“You just turn right around, get into that escape pod, and eject yourself into space.”

His lungs screamed as he became violently aware of the presence of the silent escape pods bearing witness to all this behind him. The pods that weren’t furnished with any provisions, that didn’t have any of his stuff because it was all in a bag that was behind Remus, that Virgil suspected weren’t made for humans at all and wouldn’t be capable of regulating the right amount of oxygen for his body for an extended period of time. The pods that Virgil had practiced piloting on a million times but had always flown right back here within the phisannu, because this was where he belonged. This was home.

Remus wanted him to purposely leave that? He wanted to watch Virgil cast himself into the empty expanse because it would be entertaining somehow? Virgil’s knees felt weak, his stomach offered up hints of the dinner they had all eaten together phisannus ago.

He’d have no food. He’d have no water. He’d barely have oxygen if he went.

And if he didn’t starve out there, or dehydrate, or run out of oxygen, and if the SOS system worked, then he’d be found by someone out there. If they weren’t pirates or smugglers that would sell him without a second thought, they’d be with the Universal Space Police Force and humans were illegal on this side of the universe.

If he did this it would be a suicide trip.

“It should be an easy decision for you, right? You or the others,” Remus said. “You or Janus?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Virgil hissed, and it felt like he was choking again, like Remus’s tail was hoisting in him to the air by his neck, like there was something in his throat that was blocking all the oxygen from making it to his chest. His hands were shaking and there was no hiding that.

Remus stood at his full height, and he looked like he was having the time of his life all of a sudden. The red light made his smile look insane.

And for the first time, Virgil thought that maybe that wasn’t entirely wrong.

Virgil didn’t know what growing up as an Erefren was like-- Roman was staunchy with the details and Logan and Patton were insistent that it was only Roman’s story to tell, despite them knowing it entirely. Virgil had wondered quietly, why someone whose species was supposed to travel in packs--teams-- families-- why Roman was floating out in space as a swashbuckling starlit hero without anyone else of his kind. Virgil had wondered.

He thought maybe he understood now, if Remus was the type to play this kind of sick game with people close to Roman, that Roman had left those people behind on a planet that Remus probably wouldn’t go back to. He understood why Roman had nearly begged them not to uphold the Oath of Brothers that Remus had enacted to get himself saved. He understood now, if it had been someone else with their backs to the escape pods being asked to make a decision like this.

He understood Roman not wanting to talk about Remus when Remus was asking him to choose between the people he loved and himself like the answer was something he had to even think about in the first place.

“Come on, Virgie,” Remus said. “Entertain me a bit. You know not even I will risk going back on an oath to the Great God. Unless, of course, you really don't care about your friends all that much after all.”

“Make the oath first,” Virgil said.

“Open the pod first,” Remus countered, like he was waiting for it. His tail twitched, flicked and danced in the air like a creature all of its own. Remus tilted his head to the side, letting some of his wavy hair fall over his eyes, and once upon a time Virgil might have thought that made him look a bit like Roman.

Instead it made Virgil’s stomach clench and twist and crawl up his throat real slow like it’s own little horror movie. It was deceptive, it was cruel; he didn’t look like someone who would kill anyone and everyone for his own entertainment, who took joy in making Virgil bleed late at night when there was no one but them to see.

He didn’t look like that guy they saved on the Pol’tur ship who could barely keep his eyes open, but demanded that they also save what was left of his crew. Virgil didn’t know where that person went, or if he’d been real at all. But the terror in his chest and the bruises on his neck told him the Erefren in front of him was as authentic as it got.

Virgil took the last step back and his shoulder blades hit the outer door to escape pod Alfie-- Alpha. Virgil vaguely remembered that first time that he and Roman had done their driving practices out there in the middle of an empty quadrant, in the middle of nowhere and nothing. It had been just like Janus and him picking out some empty parking lot at two AM for Janus to go through teaching him how to drive because his own parents couldn’t have been bothered. Patton had affectionately named the little pod Alfie, and gone through the trouble of renaming the pod in the computer system with an alien-like flower emoji to make Virgil smile. Logan had rolled his eyes, but had yet to change it back.

The memory tasted like his own stomach acids now, burning its way up his throat, and making his whole body feel feverish. He thought that if he closed his eyes and took a break from staring at Remus, he’d see Patton and his bug eyes staring up at him with a question on his lips and “Oh kiddo how could you?”

Virgil reached up and crossed his body to slam his palm on the palm reader without giving Remus access to his spine, without trusting Remus enough not to slam his tail into Virgil’s lower back when he was already complying, without letting his eyes close because he wasn’t going to cry after all this.

He survived the fighting rings. He survived Earth. He survived to find Janus again and see that smile that Virgil breathed every breath for. He survived this much.

He’d survive Remus too and he wouldn’t let Remus think otherwise for a quisannu.

The scanner was warm under his palm. For a moment there, Virgil was afraid that it wouldn’t recognize his human shaped hand amidst all the blood. ((He remembered when Logan first dragged him to the room to get his hand put into the system, an induction to the crew, back before Roman trusted him and Patton was still skittish and Virgil’s grasp of Common was barely more than the basics of conversation and necessity. Logan had been blinking lights a million ways, shining like a star all on his own, and it had taken Virgil too long to realize the dancing of his lower arms was because he was excited and happy and thrilled and that Virgil had made him that way. So different from the yesterday morning when Logan’s voice had dripped with an emptiness and “Did we make you unhappy?” ))

The scanner beeped. The doors slid open. Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat like it was a chunk of a meteor and the edges were carving into his esophagus.

Remus didn’t take the step forward to push him into the pod with his aura like Virgil expected. His tail froze motionless in the air beside him, more like a cardboard cut out prop than the weapon that shredded the wall to his right. The alien raised his left hand slowly, in something that looked so normal, so familiar, so human, that Virgil had to swallow the hysteria before it gained a hold on his tongue.

“I, Remus Prince, Denounced of the Prince Pack, Leader of None and Follower of Less,” Remus said, and the air in the room rang with his voice. Virgil willed back the weakness in his knees that threatened to send him to the ground at the rumbling of his tone. “I invoke the Great God Disney, Beholder of Oaths and Judge of Heroes, to witness here and now this vow: I swear to abandon my pledge to destroy all that my brother, Roman Prince, holds dear and resolve not to take human Janus Ekans with me when I leave, should human Virgil Storm press the eject button on the escape pod while inside it.”

Remus turned his palm upwards and tilted his head ever so slightly with a smug expression, nearly hidden in the shadows. “Does that work for you, Cikeriy?”

((“Does that work for you, Virgil?” Roman had said, when Virgil was frantically trying to wash blood off his hands in the bathroom and not crawl out of his skin. Virgil hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than getting the alien fluids off of himself, getting the feeling of a pulse dying under his fingers to fade, getting his breath to stop hitching at every inhale. There were a million other things that Roman should have been doing at the moment: helping Patton from where he was nearly shish kabobed, checking on Logan who they had to forcibly put to sleep because he couldn’t stop screaming at the brightness of the world around them once his visor broke, getting the blood off himself, getting rid of the bodies in the hall… but Roman was here talking to Virgil about everything and nothing and reaching out to turn off the water when Virgil wouldn’t stop scrubbing at his hands. “Listen to me Virgil. You’re okay here. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen.”))

Virgil was shaking so much he wasn’t sure that he actually nodded at Remus’s non-rhetorical question. It felt barbed, it felt cold and vicious of him to ask, and Virgil thought that maybe that was the point of it. Remus’s teeth bared in a parody of something comforting.

It was the same smile that Mayor Ekans had been holding when he had Virgil forcibly ejected from the mansion the first time, the same smile that his teachers had when they gave him yet another detention, the same smile that the police officers gave him when they thought they had caught him in a lie about what had happened to Beloved Perfect Janus Ekans.

There were less than two halls between him and Janus’s bedroom, less two quisannu to get from here to that room where Janus was sleeping unaware of anything that was happening, less than eighteen days that he got to spend with Janus in the grand scheme of things.

It felt like a blink, like a mirage, like a dream that Virgil just woke up from and was feeling the blissfulness dissipate like he’d faced so many times before. The Hope had always been the worst thing about those first eight months: the hope that Janus would appear somewhere unconscious but alive, the hope that Janus would show up to clear his name, the hope that Janus would come back just to fix everything that had gone wrong with Virgil’s life when he was gone.

Virgil, ever the fool, had fallen into the trap that was Hope again and let himself get comfy with the idea that this time he couldn’t lose Janus again.

“Tick Tock,” Remus said.

“You know, Remus,” Virgil spit out, “I feel sorry for you.”

“That’s nice.”

“You clearly never learned what the fuck it was like to care about anyone other than yourself, and I as much as I would like to hate ever fiber of your being, the only thing I can feel is pity that you--”

“Really, these are gonna be your last words?” Remus cut in with an undertone of something far less entertained.

“There are a billion civilizations out there!” Virgil said over him. “And you couldn’t find one person in there that you could care about? You couldn’t let go of such a stupid hatred of your brother-- for a pack that didn’t deserve you-- for a life that you don’t even know if you would have liked! You had all of Space for yourself and you chained yourself up just to get a chance to get back at Roman? How the fuck are you so stupid? Do you know what I would have given to be you?”

Remus wasn’t smiling.

Virgil thought that he was. Grinning full of adrenaline and shaking with rage and wondering if he would ever taste Janus’s lips again because certainty in Space was a fickle thing.

“You had a spaceship. You had a crew. You could have gone anywhere and done anything with your life,” Virgil said. “And yet you chose to constantly come back to Roman. Dumbass.”

Remus made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a grumbling, a rumbling, a growling. Virgil flinched back into the pod, and he could already feel the artificial gravity loosening its hold. It took him another blink to realize that Remus was laughing at him, something darker and more dangerous than before.

He was insane and having fun before. Virgil thought that he might have just taken out the “having fun” and substituted in the “pissed off”.

“You know how long I’ve been thinking about this, Virgil?” Remus asked. “I went over a hundred different ways that I could have done this: I could have had you hang yourself, snapping your own neck. Could have given you the knife and told you to slit your own throat. Could have tossed you a Kochfas and told you to blow your brains out. I thought about making the others watch. And I wanted to see you do it so badly. Do you know what a pain it was to walk around these past disannu and see you with your guard completely down? To think of all the ways I would have killed you myself? I could have slit your throat and laughed as Patton screamed. But you know those rumors about Deathworlds say that you might have gotten up from that and I don’t ever want to see your stupid face again.”

Virgil’s chest heaved. He couldn’t tell if it was the thinner oxygen concentration in the pod, or just the rapid fire words in Remus’s mouth. The words that confirmed a suspicion that Virgil hadn’t realized he’d had this whole time. That this whole thing was too complex, too focused, too targeted.

“Oh? Nothing else to say?” Remus asked. “You were almost entertaining there for a moment.”

“This wasn’t about Roman, was it?” Virgil said. “This was about me. You hate me.”

Remus stuck out his tongue and pressed a claw to it-- some type of motion that Virgil only recognized from the number of times that Roman had done it to Logan’s back after he stated something incredibly obvious and Patton had batted his thigh over.

“Oh, is the little deathworlder getting the hint?” Remus asked. “What tipped you off? The drugging of all your friends or when I told you to eject yourself from the ship?”

“What…” Virgil shivered with his whole body. “Why…?”

“Don’t chicken out now, Virgie,” The alien said. “I’d simply hate to have to go through the trouble of stabbing out each of Patton’s hearts because you got cracked bone plates.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, a fake expression that made Virgil’s stomach twist in on itself. “Or maybe I’ll just start with Janus, and see how much pain a human can actually take.”

“Don’t,” Virgil’s voice comes out as its own growl, sounding damn near inhuman.

Virgil didn’t think about the Pol’turs, didn’t think about Janus on that table knowing that no one is coming for him, didn’t think about the scars on the side of his face that Janus pretended didn’t bother him, but Virgil had caught him pointedly not looking in the mirror so many times-- He didn’t think about it, but his brain screamed at him anyway.

“I don’t know what I did to you,” Virgil said. “But leave him out of this. All of them. Roman included. Look I… I’m sorr--”

The Erefren’s tail struck through the air and before Virgil knew what he was doing he slammed the button on the door lock and forced them shut. He stumbled deeper into the pod, nearly falling to the ground as the sound of Remus’s barbed tail spikes carved into the thick heavy metal separating them. The ship was so cold that Virgil could see his breath in the air, but all he felt was a feverish as he stared through the foggy window at where Remus was standing with an expression that was possibly more murderous than anything Virgil had ever seen before.

Janus’s mother had been vile and sadistic when she thought that Virgil had killed her perfect son, the police had been cold and merciless when they called him a suspect, the people Virgil hadn’t even known had become ruthless and brutal when they glared at him doing anything out in public. His own parents had looked at him with hatred when they realized that the rest of the world would shun them just because Virgil was their son, but even that had been nothing compared to the look in Remus’s dark eyes.

It was bloodlust. And it was directed at Virgil with no regard for anything else.

Remus sneered, almost loud enough for Virgil to hear through both the sets of doors and the static screaming in his ears. His mouth tasted like Dust, his skin prickled with a heat that wasn’t real, his fingers dripped with blood and ached in all the ways that his hands always did after he killed someone with them. He felt like if he took a single step he’d float right off into Space with or without the walls around him

Remus’s mouth moved, words or curses or whatever, but Virgil couldn’t hear them and cared even less.

“I don’t know what I did to you,” Virgil said with his hands shaking over the square red eject button. Last words for only him to know and no one else to ever find out. He thought of Janus asleep in his bed, safe and sound and not knowing anything that was going on. He thought of the feel of Janus’s lips on his, the featherlight touch and sweet honey-eyed look he reserved just for Virgil. He thought of those words he last said to him, “Later Loser, Sleep well” and thought it was ever so poetic that they mirrored those last things that Janus had said to him before he disappeared off the Earth three years ago.

Virgil hoped that Janus wouldn’t take them to heart too much-- not like Virgil had when he agonized over them and wouldn’t believe that Janus had run away without telling him and the rumors had first started their rounds. He hoped that Janus would forgive him for being stupid in the middle of the night. He hoped that Janus would wait for him to find a way back to them.

Out in Space, he wasn’t certain of much, but he was certain that he meant it when he gritted his teeth together, and said, “Remus, I hope you rot in Hell.”

Virgil slammed his bleeding fingers down on the eject button, and at the same moment blinding white light filled the Transport Room from the hall.

He got just enough time to recognize Roman’s unmistakable form stumbling into the room behind Remus, and then the entire pod lurched backwards.

[Part Three]

#Aliens #Space and Everything In It #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #anxceit #Remus what the fuck are you doing #Virgil needs a hug. desperately #tw: blood #tw mentions of murder #tw: mentions of forced suicide #Virgil would really do anything for Janus #and thats the core of this tragedy #humans are space orcs #the fluff has died and I'm sorry

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sirfluffig · 4 years

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS CHALLENGE

I wasnt exactly tagged but I wanted to do this so, here we are I suppose 😅 I would have done this one for my HPHL Character but its not done yet so please, take a Flavio

Flavio Ceccere | Lord of Mind and Memory

(Art by @kuzmich-isterich )

#flavio ceccere #hphm #Ravenclaw #Olympian Aesthetic challenge #Close call between Zeus and Athena apparently #but im glad it got Athena in the end #Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery #Hogwarts Mystery #I literally just try to fill the tags #Please send help

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 1 year

Note

Song Ask Hollis & Snow?

(no I will not ignore this I'm so here for this actually)

10. Their worst enemy — I Want My Innocence Back, Emilie Autumn

I want my innocence back / And if you can't give it to me / I will cut you down / And I will run you through / With the dagger you sharpened / On my body and soul

Send me an OC + a number

#ask #answered #the witching ash #about hollis #hollis everdeen

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danceworshipper · 4 years

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Olympian Aesthetics

I meant to do this a few days ago but after I had it done tumblr said "no ❤️" and deleted the whole thing and I couldn't bring myself to redo it until now

Tagged by @carewyncromwell and @amerrymystery thank you!! Tagging @weirdcursedvaultkid @weasleysandwheezes (idk if either of you like these sorts of things but hey) and anyone else who would like to do this! I'm going to do all of my Hogwarts Legacy kids (Ann/Lynn, Ida, Sebastien, and Dorian) since I need to develop them more

Ann/Lynn Smith

(As there are technically two of them, Ann will be bold and Lynn will be italics)

Ida Sommer

Sebastien Parr

Dorian Lenards

#hogwarts legacy #hphl #ann smith #lynn smith #ida sommer #sebastien parr #dorian lenards #olympian aesthetics

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iragin · 4 years

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1/2

TW: gore, body horror, torture, death

Unfortunately, as the video starts, the action has already begun. Were it planned under better terms, the viewer would have context behind the squirming and screaming of a desperate Rahzel. He is strapped to a slab made of stained marble and though his face isn't on the frame, he is panicked.

The hand that holds the camera is steady but far too low to capture the scene properly, that is, until the image shakes as if they're turning around and climbing onto something. Amidst the shuffling of the equipment, a conversation can be heard in the background.

“I didn't do shit to spite you!” It’s obviously not Wrath’s voice but Rahzel’s, trying to bargain. “This," he stammers. "This, this shit with Kurloz was so fuckin' recent. I been keepin' my distance all this time before-HH. HAND! N-ever stayed in a room w- he! With him for longer than five minutes. I don't know w-GH, why I did it. Fuck!“

A thud cuts part of what Wrath says in response, more shuffling causes an obnoxious grainy sound to lower the quality of the audio until the camera is picked up again. It shows Wrath, from the chin below, going around the slab, strapping the restraints tighter around Rahzel. "-- to fuck up as hard as ya can on all that ya be told not to fuck up." Iron clinks and bends as Wrath wrings the material. "Most folks would be ectastic to know they aren't allowed to die, and what's one motherfucker to avoid in multiverses fulla the same of 'em?" He bends down to look into Rahzel's eyes, his voice is a distant whisper. Luckily not so much it's incomprehensible to the audience. "You're a disgrace, and don't get to keep mine soul for that. I'm takin' back what's mine."

Wrath's movements are silent, save for the way he sifts through a wooden box seated by the person filming everything and his raspy words too close to the camera. "Brought everythin'?" And he receives a soft mmhm as answer. "Good."

The dagger in view is white, and if it looks like it isn't suitable for cutting, that's because it isn't. Thin golden veins run across the edge, Wrath holds it up in front of the camera as he polishes and sharpens the edge. He does the same thing in front of Rahzel, a decision that stirs the lower demon’s personal uproar.

"Wait, wait, WAIT. FUCK! WAIT! I'll. I'll st-stop going to Gram's! FUCK, HOLD ON. NO GOING THERE, NO KURLOZ!" As if on cue, the tip of the dagger is brought down to touch the side of Rahzel’s neck, right under his chin, alongside one of Wrath’s hands pressing down his chest.

"Yeah, I know ya will. I'll make sure of that." Wrath rips the fabric covering Rahzel’s torso, the loud noise is insufferable on the audio and it fades as quickly as it starts. He brings a hand up to the chained demon’s cheek, patting lightly. “Were mine rules not clear enough? Too strict, huh?" He runs a finger over Rahzel's chest, simulating patterns until he decides on one to use in any future incisions, also taking a moment to feel the heart beat under his palm. "I don't understand where it went wrong. Simon thinks it's Gram's fault, for influencin’ ya somethin’ hardcore. What're yo thoughts on that?”

An answer doesn’t come straight away, but Wrath waits. He stands still, his hand following the raising and falling of Rahzel’s sharp and quick breath.

As he’s about to give up waiting for an explanation, it comes. "I think...Y- yeah, kinda? Foo-fool, I was, my- fu-fuck. Fool I was myself. B-but even Zzzo thinks I should stay 'way from his place. Gram's." Rahzel’s sincere about it, Wrath wished that wouldn’t be the case. His hand tightens into a fist; his face, into a frown. “Wrath, please.“

“Please, what?”

"Please, don't kill me..."

> Part 2

#status.#jovialecho #long post -

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faeofheart · 3 years

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bold is for “ what is on the surface ”, italic is for “ applies only sometimes / is below the surface “

APHRODITE

laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO

glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled wrath, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

ARES

armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fists raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS

keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA

discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER

soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS

drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers,theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS

sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls,fascination with robotics,pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA

resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES

devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON

storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS

thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends they don’t have (certain) feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano,maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy calendar with ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch

tagged by: I stole this when going back through my old blog tagging: whoever wants to

#it's funny how little things hav changed #some things needed unbolding and some things needed bolding #others needed to switch from italic to bold or from bold to italic #but for the most part its still the same #🍀 | we taste and feel and see the truth ❞ ( headcanons. )

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puppy-the-mask · 4 years

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Poly? Morph

A Friends to lovers post-dnd-transportation fic focusing on our boys Rant and Rus (debating on adding Edge aswell)

There’s like 4 POV changes so let me know if I should re-write? this was more for fun than anything, It doesn’t get to romance yet but I hope to continue in my free time. Let me know any errors or anything, I’ll put it on AO3 after a bit more editing and input. I’ve just re-read it so much its all bleh to me so i’m getting second opinions/input here

tw/Blood and Death- not graphic but y’know -/(Owo)\-

It’s been 5 years since we began, just a couple of students playing a game of DnD. Mere hours after wrapping up session zero us players arrived home and as a collective felt a foreign wave of exhaustion, falling asleep one by one.

The city's air was damp and the pathways were dim with the light of half dead lanterns. The party was shuffling through the empty streets to the gates bound for our next assignment when a figure appeared out of the shadows, the glint of metal and we found ourselves face to face with a hostage situation.

You had once been the closest we had to a tank, a perk of having been a dragonborn with high strength- even if you were a druid bard- but after being cursed for the upteenth time you’d been separated from your avatar- Blackjack- and rendered a low level support for our high level party.

Without you taking lead your roll was delegated to other, more impulsive members. The next moments are a flurry of movement as a loud burst sends the assailant back along with you- the dagger at your neck drawing blood.

Everything blended together as I flew to the front lines, rage getting the best of me as the look on your face burned itself into my mind. The shock and pain in your eyes drove me forward as the streets were painted red.

The cleric could heal you, I had a life to take.

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Sans woke up panting, eyelights materializing and analyzing his surroundings. WHAT?

He couldn’t believe it, there was no way… He was back in his room, back in his world- well the one he’d been in before. There was so much to process, his new surroundings aside- their last foe had been someone they’d trusted. And yet she almost killed y/n… had she even known who she was attacking? There were so many questions rattling around his skull as his magic buzzed in his bones. He needed to check on them, he needed to make sure they made it back. Normally he’d shortcut straight to their room but his magic was sluggish and unresponsive. He’d just have to run.

He managed to make it down the stairs without falling and stumble a few more steps before he heard voices. NO NONONO FUCK! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!

“AH RANT, YOU’RE AWAKE! RANT?” He had to brace himself on the couch, his center of gravity was much different than his avatar’s “RANT ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Paps knelt to his level and looked him over

“I’m Fine, Let Me Go-!” The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip as he tried to get past to the door “I SAID LET ME GO! I NEED TO CHECK ON THEM!”

“WHO? RANT TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG.” He just kept struggling, but everything was getting fuzzy as his soul was settling back in his proper body. “Can You Tell Me Where You Are?” More people were walking in, having been drawn from the dining room by their voices.

“WHERE!? I'M HERE WITH YOU AT THE HOUSE- NOW LET ME GO!” more voices joined the conversation but they all started to run together.

“rant? dude what’s wrong!?”

“THE HELL IS HIS PROBLEM?”

“huh, so the shortstack does have eyelights”

“bro?” his eyelights sharpened and shrank on his brother and he felt tears prick his sockets.

“Papyrus?” The soft copy let him go as he stumbled into his brother’s arms. Stars he really hoped this wasn’t an illusion, but the comfort of his brother’s magic reassured him. “It’s Really You…”

“sans? sans what happened?” Rant just shook his head, his voice leaving him. Had that all just been a dream? It didn’t feel like it, there was no way a dream could be that real. He could remember with clarity how vivid it all was, the blood- the pain- the party that was just so full of life despite their situation- their bard. His gaze hardened.

He may not be able to do anything in his current state but there was one other person who was close enough to y/n to have a shortcut straight to them. Rant forced his voice to settle and pinned his friend with his stare

“RUS.” The skeleton stiffened “YOU NEED TO GET TO Y/N, THEY SHOULD BE IN THEIR ROOM”

“bro, sans you need to breathe with me you’re friend is fine.” He ignored his brother, not looking away from Rus.

“RUS I CAN’T USE MY MAGIC” The room stilled around him but he persisted, dragging the younger skeleton closer and dropping his volume “You’re All They Have Right Now.

Seeing his hesitance Rant quickly amended his plea. “If I'm Wrong And They’re Fine I’ll Owe You- I Don’t Care- Just please…”

Rus swallowed, settled his frantic magic, and nodded before stepping out of Rant’s slackened grip into nowhere.

“sans i know you like bein dramatic but yer really startin to worry me- what happened, what’s wrong with yer magic.” Rant took a deep breath before looking up at Mutt and muttering into his brother’s hoodie

“I’ll Tell You Tonight” Shifting he let his tears fall and grabbed at the fabric in front of him “ I-I DON’T KNOW I JUST- I WOKE UP BUT WHAT I SAW- IT WAS TOO GRAPHIC TO NOT BE REAL AND I...” Rant took a shuddering breath “ IN IT Y/N- THEY GOT HURT BUT I CAN’T CALM DOWN ENOUGH TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.” He looked away from the crowd to the ground and flinched at the annoyed responses of some of them- mad at him for interrupting dinner over a nightmare and unaware of the satisfaction each rude comment brought him.

He couldn’t help but thank his old reputation as an attention seeking drama queen, this was his easiest coverup yet. Rant wiped his tears and started the process of evening out his breathing

Stars, it felt so good to be back in his own body. He settled into his brother’s embrace, hugging him back. He’d missed him so much.

-------------------

Blackjack hadn’t exactly been thrilled when you had showed up, he was quite the opposite if he was being honest. He didn’t like taking a back seat while a teenager piloted his body, sue him. But unlike you’d think he didn’t despise you, It was obvious that neither you nor your friends had been expecting a body switch to happen by the end of the first day. But then nearly 5 years later you’d made a deal with good old gertrude, accepted yet another experimental curse, and next thing the dragonborn knew he had his body back.

The next few months were interesting to say the least, he stuck with the party and quietly delighted in how your companions turned to him when they meant to talk to you and expected him to do things he’d never do. You were different then him, kinder, a total bard, and frankly he’s just glad that all those curses you’d brought onto the two of you had transferred. He could deal with a few extra scars if that was the trade off.

You did have a couple similarities though, your shared love of gambling, ale, and women.

The two of you were talking about just that, naming your favorite flirtatious endeavors over the years you’d spent as him- of which there were many, including lady victoria. It wasn’t exactly hard for him to pick up where you had left off but something told him there was something more to the parties’ friend in high places. As good of a rogue as you were you were oblivious to the lady’s growing infatuation, one of the many reasons why the other rogue became the king of thieves rather than you… or him??? Regardless the look on Victoria’s face when he’d introduced you stuck with him, he decided to keep you close for now just in case

You were at the back of the group, his steps slowed drastically to match yours, though you still had to fast walk to keep up with his much longer legs. You were going on about a tiefling academic you’d hit it off with a while back, the one who’d inspired and helped you develop a spell of your own. It was cheesy, a healing spell for those with ‘high charisma’ as you put it that utilized the castor’s kiss. It was effective and Blackjack won’t deny using it on his own to woo the occasional maiden.

You went on and on and he could envision the tiefling in question, commenting about other features as you raved about her cute freckles, when he felt a prickle in his scales. Before anyone could react you were in a figure’s hold with a blade to your throat.

Suddenly the air crackled with electricity as the trigger happy sorcerer unleashed a Thunder Wave. Blackjack braced himself for the impact, feeling something wet and warm splatter onto his tunic. He rushed towards your prone body, yelling for help from the cleric only to curse when they had run out of spell slots.

He sighed, his breath appearing a soft glowing yellow in front of him, he never thought he’d have to use your spell in a serious situation- especially not on you. As he pulled away from your cheek the words manifested on your skin, magic runes snaked down to your neck- glowing that same pale yellow. They ran over your wound until there was no more area to cover and slowly faded as your body repaired itself.

That wouldn’t be enough. The cleric took you from his hold and started pumping on your chest, trying to force air into your lungs in practiced motions. Your blood covered the pathway and the two of them as they tried to keep you from choking on it.

Looking back to the fight Blackjack saw the rogue known as Rumor- the one you called Sans- in the very heart of the battle. He sucked in a breath as he heard their foe cry out, Veronica. He was right, but he held no satisfaction in that. She tried to plead, to escape, but that rogue wouldn’t let her. Blow after blow he refused to stop.

Blackjack looked back to you as you spat up blood, finally breathing on your own, and he couldn’t help but pity any fool that tried to come between the two of you. Just friends my ass

Suddenly his attention was pulled from you to the cleric, who was outlined in a fading golden glow along with the rest of the party, who slowly came back to themselves

“Gods above that boy made a mess!” Rumor, the real one he assumed, looked on the body with disgust. Lady Veronica was unrecognizable.

“I assume y’all are back in control then?” Y/n sat up with help. Their voice was raspy, they were still glowing, and when they coughed into their hand their fingertips were fading away. They focused on their now bloody hand and chuckled “Must take bodies longer to transport than souls I guess. For what it’s worth it’s nice to meet you all.”

It couldn’t have taken more than 3 minutes of chatting before they were almost gone.

“It was nice knowin ya player”

“Heh yeah, I’ll miss getting my ass kicked at poker…” You surprised him with a look of sincerity and fondness, trapping his gaze onto you “Thanks for everything Blackjack.”

With one more smile and a farewell wish that we look out for ourselves they vanished back to where they came from. They really were kinder than they had any right to be

Blackjack stood with a sigh and without a word turned around to head back to the tavern they’d stayed in previously. He didn’t know about the others but he could use a drink, and it’d take many many more before he’d ever admit that he alread missed his stupid little protege.

---------------------------------------

Rus wasn’t sure what he was expecting, when Papyrus had gone to get Rant for dinner he figured his friend was just exhausted from participating in your club. The three of you had become fast friends after him and the other ‘undesirable’ skeletons were relocated away from the main house’s relationship issues.

From what he’d been told you didn’t run into Rant despite having had your face in your phone, doing a little twirl to avoid the other skeleton last second - who had noticed your inattention and been gunning for you from down the hall. Which was just like him, always looking to start something. You’d peaked his interest and after a little chat in the halls he’d let you go to your next class until lunch.

Rus remembered you had looked so nervous and anxious when Rant had dragged you over to their seats across the lunchroom,literally, but you’d engaged and chatted with the shorter skeleton regardless. And while it took a little time he’d started chatting with you as well, since- as it turned out- the two of you were in the same graphic design course.

It wasn’t hard to convince the two of them to tag along with you to the DnD club come second semester, Rant had come prepared with a binder full of paper for notes and a separate stack for his character sheet, he’d come up with lots of backstory for his character- meanwhile Rus had a singular almost empty character sheet and took all of the session getting set up while you had multitasked helping him and participating in the pre-game exposition.

That was only a little over 5 hours ago, so when Rant had come down in a panic with a look that had dread coursing through his bones Rus was a little skeptical something had happened to you. But something told him there was more to it, and the desperation on his friend’s face alone was enough to spur him into action. He wouldn’t take any chances, not with someone he cared about

The moment he opened his sockets his gaze was drawn to your bed and he felt any and all composure he’d mustered up leave him.

“Y/n!?” A faint glow dissipated as he rushed to your side, crawling onto the bed to get to you in your confined space as he gathered you into his arms. Fuck there’s so much blood, Why-What-How??? Fuck!

He hesitated to take your pulse, the blood around your neck still wet. He couldn’t tell where it all came from and he nearly screamed when your hand shot up and grabbed his, your other clamping around his teeth. Rus jerked back and the motion sent the both of you tumbling off the bed, but you managed to catch him and brace a hand against the wall just past him- effectively stopping the two of you.

The two of you sat like that for a second before you exhaled, the tension breaking Rus began to fuss over you.

“Y/n what the fuck happened to you- did Rant have something to do with this? are you okay? do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No! Nonono I’m fine-”

“You’re Covered In-!” You shushed him, almost covering his face again before he caught your hands. He turned one of your palms towards you, it was the one you’d previously been coughing into and shook the offending arm for emphasis “See!!!” You looked past the skeleton at the wall, there was a bloody handprint you’d have to clean off and you could spot some on one of Rus’ hands

You shook your head and got back on track, fixing your tall friend with a serious look

“Look Rus, I don’t need a hospital. I just need to get cleaned up and maybe get a bandaid or two. I’m okay, promise.” He only frowned, searching your face before sighing

“you owe me an explanation later.”

“You probably won’t believe me.” You said with a tired chuckle

You scooched off of your bed and slipped off your pack, letting it hit the floor with a thunk and various muted clinks and clangs from your supplies, kits, and other odds and ends.

“can i ask about the wardrobe change now or should i wait?” You snickered as you fiddled with the various buckles attaching your scabbards and pouches to your person before thinking better of it and reaching for the pin clasping the ends of your cloak together and removing the garment. “Is That A Fucking Sword Y/N What The Hell!?!?”

Your laughter only grew louder as you nodded wordlessly with a grin, looking back at your awestruck friend- who had moved to his knees at the end of the bed, leaning closer to get a better look.

“Yeah, It ties in with the explanation but yeah it’s real! All of it is- wanna hold?” You’d explained excitedly as you quickly got the straps undone and off your body, removing your shortsword and it’s scabbard from the ensemble and holding it out towards Rus. He took it tentatively before sitting back to admire it.

You watched on with a proud look on your face, your smile growing when he unsheathed the blade and you caught his eyelights expand before zoning in on the engraving along the blade. It was a simple enough sword but one of your friends had enchanted it for you way back at the beginning when you all were still discovering and learning your class’ skills and you’d kept it close ever since.

Switching gears you started taking off your armor, which thankfully had taken most of the blood as well as your cloak- leaving your tunic nearly spotless this time around. There was a little soaked in around the collar but it was manageable. In a stroke of genius you grabbed a pair of sweatpants, telling Rus to stay where he was you moved to the alcove in your room that didn’t have your bed and quickly changed pants, throwing your boots and pants into the pile of adventuring gear before smearing blood across your face from your nose.

A mischievous grin spread across your face when you turned towards your companion

“How do I look?” when you got a concerned look in response your grin only grew “Great! I’ll be right back!” Rushing down the stairs you covered your nose, raising your voice so the whole room could hear you

“Hey mom?! I don’t know what happened but I got a really bad nosebleed- can I wash some things?”

Your mother turned from the TV to look at you, eyes widening in surprise and concern “Of course, What happened?”

“I don’t know! I woke up and there was blood everywhere. I think It stopped but it got all over my bed.”

“Here, let me strip your sheets- you get cleaned up.”

“Oh no, you don’t gotta do that.! I can get it, just give me a sec.” You tried to wave her off but she insisted, already heading up your stairs. Aaaah fuck Rus isn’t supposed to be here he didn’t use the door!!!

You felt rather than heard the pop of magic in the air and sighed, You’d have to get with him later, but for now you had blood to clean. You absently wondered if rubbing alcohol worked on leather.

Getting back to your room you looked around and found that all your gear- which you had completely forgotten also shouldn’t have been there- was piled up in the same place you had previously changed, hidden from view of your mother. You also found your phone plugged up on your bed with messages on it’s screen

~Rus~

-text me after dinner

-i’ll come over w/ rant and you can explain

Rant? Who’s-OOOOOHHH!!!! Right multiverse shenanigans, Sans is Rant here. As you were going to unlock your phone you got another text from the aforementioned skeleton himself

~Rant~

-RUS SAID YOU WERE ALIVE. I’LL BE TELLING MY BROTHER WHAT HAPPENED TO US IF YOU WOULD…

The message cut off, which concerned you until you remembered that you’d have to enter the app to get the full message since it was so long. Inputting your passcode you re-read the full text

-RUS SAID YOU WERE ALIVE. I’LL BE TELLING MY BROTHER WHAT HAPPENED TO US IF YOU WOULD BE UP TO COMING OVER AND EXPLAINING IT TOGETHER? I’D BE NICE TO NOT LOOK INSANE IN FRONT OF MY ONLY FAMILY

-We’ll see if I can make it after dinner, I owe Rus an explanation too. He actually just texted and said he’d come over with you so /I/ can tell /y'all/ what happened

-You slipped up by the way, you live with your ~cousins~ remember?

-YOU’D BETTER COME OVER…

His bubble appeared and disappeared before he finally responded

- BITE ME PEASANT

-Kinky~

-But also sleep sounds great though

-I HOPE YOUR HANGOVER KILLS YOU

You pocketed your phone with a smirk as you hopped off your bed. Some reheated leftovers sounded amazing right about now, you feel like you could eat a whole feast. You glanced over at your things and considered your unending flask of honey mead before thinking better of it. Sans- fuck RANT- was right. That healing spell would give you a major hangover after you woke up, especially with how much it had to heal. You shivered as you felt your own mortality weigh down on you.

You’d almost died again, and there were no more resurrection scrolls- especially now that you were home. Your eyes drifted back to the flask…

It couldn’t hurt to celebrate a little could it? Not only are you alive but you’re home! Besides you’re already going to hate life in the morning, why not enjoy a few swigs before that cliff?

You took a long drink and closed the flask, burying it under your things before making your way down the stairs to get something to eat. It wasn’t long after that you were in your usual spot on the couch watching TV with your family and laughing together. You’d even gotten a hug from your mom during a sad scene, and if she noticed you crying a bit more than you meant to then she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t totally unheard of for you to shed a few tears for fiction after all.

#Poly? Morph #fanfic #Rant #purpfell!sans #Rus #sf!papyrus #Getting sucked into your DND game sucks but what about after?#next episode- Rant and Reader share screen time in their own fic #but first 'The Talk' tm #I called myself out in the last paragraph but i'm taking ya'll down with me #I hope this all pasted correctly cause I'm too lazy to check #it doesn't feel like 9 docs pages but oh well #thanks for reading! <3

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