#(br-otp) under your wing

[leadingrebel]

A moment of warm and christmas-y happiness for Riv and Sky

Happy HEX day for you, @queen-of-the-wallflowers15!

[leadingrebel]

“Where I go you go, remember?”

Finally getting around to sending this prompt: I'd love to see a mash-up / fusion of Fate and The Shadowhunter Chronicles. Particularly in the context of Sky and Riven being parabatai and how that works in the Fate universe. 👀 (or any of the characters as parabatai would be v cool too- like, Bloom and Aisha maybe?)

There is nothing I love more than the complexities of a parabatai bond — and I could never pass up on a sky/riven moment, especially when I found these as inspiration..

It’s been three years since Sky laid eyes on an Elapid demon. Not since the portal to the dark realm had been closed for good.

Or so they thought.

For a few seconds, it’s the only thing that takes up his vision — a swarm of scaled creatures crawling around Alfea, neither serpent nor insect, their jagged claws buried into the spines of his fellow specialists and tearing them to pieces — before the rune on his neck tingles and the image fades.

Just in time for Sky to duck and roll away from the snap of its teeth.

Amber-colored venom drips to the ground, sizzling into the cobblestone where Sky had been frozen in place just seconds ago.

The demon’s cobra-shaped head turns in his direction, red eyes bleeding violence and hunger, only to stumble back with a piercing shriek when an arrow gets embedded into its neck.

“That sword in your hand? It’s to defend yourself from things like that,” a low voice taunts from behind him. Sky turns in time to see Riven aim another marked arrow, sending a shockwave of an angry yowl through the village when the sharp tip grazes the top of the demon’s head. “Would be bloody helpful if you used it right about now.”

The sardonic words make him smile despite himself, sending the unsettling flashback to the back of his mind. Shaking his head in amusement, he pulls the seraph blade from its scabbard, letting it illuminate his hand with a soft, divine glow.

Running toward the demonic creature, he arcs through the air, dodging a taloned arm, and slices through one of the demon’s legs — just in time to sidestep another one. Taking advantage of his crouched position, Sky pierces his blade through the underside of its belly. It explodes in a shower of burning ichor.

He turns to face his partner. “Two!” he calls out, breathless from the headiness of adrenaline.

“One and a half,” Riven shoots back with a smirk. He plants an arrow into the head of the third and final Elapid and doesn’t even stop to make sure it’s fully banished to the demon realm when he stows his bow away, strutting in Sky’s direction. Cocky bastard. “I helped you with the first one.”

The lightness in Riven’s voice, however, doesn’t match the intensity of his eyes as they absorb every detail about Sky. Gaze determined and evergreen. So intense it never fails to feel like Riven’s hands are slowly checking over every inch of him.

Like it always does, Sky’s heart pounds against the prison of his rib cage at the sight, sending a pulse of warmth down his spine.

It took years for Sky to understand that look. That unwavering stare. Intended to painstakingly ensure the soul bound to Riven’s was uninjured, unharmed. But once he did, once Sky allowed himself to feel the full weight of Riven’s attention, well, it’s been a steady descent since.

Sky does his best to shrug it away as they head back to the institute, tucked away behind a First World trinket shop in the middle of Blackbridge. “But I was the one to kill it.”

“I knew your hero complex would go to your head one day, I just didn’t expect it to be so soon,” Riven teases, bumping his bicep — inked with the rune identical to the one on his neck — into Sky.

“Weren’t you the one who told Silva we didn’t need a team for this patrol?”

Riven scoffs. “Like I could’ve predicted an Elapid nest? I know a higher level of demon activity has been reported, but where the fuck did those even come from?”

It’s a good question, actually. They weren’t even supposed to be on a mission today, just an ordinary patrol. One they’ve done countless times without encountering Elapid-level demons. It’s relatively uneventful most of the time, but today they stumbled upon a swarm of them for the first time in years and Sky—

He thinks of lifeless eyes, of blood-soaked grass squelching beneath his boots as he surveys the loss of his fellow warriors. Of the cries of pain and sorrow pervading through Alfea.

“Sky!” Riven warns urgently, pulling him out of his daze.

His body responds before his mind can even process the words, flattening to the ground as a demon flies through the air just a few feet above him. Sky’s palms sting from the cut of the cobblestones when he clambers to his feet, scanning the area around them for the nearest source of danger.

An Elapid demon comes at him seconds later, swooping with a visceral screech. Sky grunts as he blocks its leg with his seraph blade and pushes it back, his teeth gritting together with effort. From his periphery, he sees another leg loom over him, ready to spear through his body, only for it to get pierced with a marked arrow, exploding in a splash of ichor.

The demon howls and Sky strikes, swinging his sword through its neck. Black-green blood splatters onto him, biting at his exposed skin, but the thrill of killing the demon, of sending it back to the hell it came from, is much more powerful.

He turns to face Riven with a grimace. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Always,” Riven replies easily, and the smile he sends Sky is devastating, entirely out of place on a battlefield. “Except for when it’s Silva. Demons I can handle. Silva’s lectures? You’re on your own, mate.”

Sky’s about to tell him that Silva’s lectures are pretty much exclusively reserved for Riven when he hears an all-too-familiar scuttling sound. He barely has time to lift his sword when there’s a blur of movement, a sickening squelch, and—

Riven screams.

Sky’s body is hollow as he stares at the claw that’s run straight through Riven’s thigh, blood glistening on its black shell. It starts to shudder as though it’s about to jerk upwards – three, two, one, – and tear Riven in half.

Sky moves without thinking, spinning past his parabatai to sever the leg off at the back, thrusting his sword through the demon’s belly with an anguished, vengeful roar. He doesn’t even care to watch it be banished to the demon realm, and just turns to catch Riven as he collapses backwards, sinking to his knees. Two bound souls on the ground.

“Always the bloody white knight…” he gasps, sounding half out of it already. Sky fumbles for Riven’s hand, his fingers sliding in between his. “A lot of blood, Sky. It’s- my thigh. There’s too much blood.”

“I know,” he says, catching his voice before it cracks. “It’s okay, just- just let me get my stele, okay? We need a healing rune and-“

“N-no. Won’t work. Too much blood.” Riven exhales a short, mirthless laugh. “I don’t- it’s not going to work.”

“It will, okay? You’re going to be fine. Where I go you go, remember?”

“Sky don’t... I’m fine.”

But it’s not. It’s not fucking fine because Sky can feel their parabatai bond weakening by the second. Can feel the life-force that constantly exists within him, the axis of his whole world, fading away.

Riven just rests there on his chest. His breaths shallow, his fingers trembling against Sky’s neck, and his eyes trained on Sky’s face. He flinches when something wet drips onto his cheek, but he still doesn’t look away.

And Sky knows, he knows that a healing rune on Riven’s body isn’t going to be enough to fix him.

He knows that there are some wounds that are fatal wounds — heads crushed by stone, stomachs pierced by swords, hearts stopped with lightning — that are just too big, too permanent to heal. A femoral artery ripped apart by a demon is one of them.

But there’s nothing in this realm, nothing in this world or any world, that can stop him from reaching out with a bloodstained hand to draw one on anyway.

It’s not his best. He’s too shaky, too frenzied to make it his best. The lines aren’t sharp or precise and he can’t even breathe much magic into it like he usually would—

But then the rune glows. Steadily brighter and stronger than he’s ever seen. An iridescent blaze of light that beams through the village and nearly blinds everyone in it.

When it fades, any remaining demons are gone — expelled in a series of cataclysms that reverberate through Sky’s knees — and Riven has stopped bleeding. There’s a spiked claw on the ground next to his thigh and the skin where his wound should be is whole, unmarred. As if he wasn’t just on the brink of death. His puddle of blood is nothing more than a rusted stain that’s faded into his black gear.

Sky feels their parabatai bond flare against Riven’s palm on his neck, red-hot and electric. The rune on his bicep grows as hot on Sky’s chest as the liquid fire in his gaze. He breathes Sky’s name, hushed and reverent.

They haven’t looked away from each other.

Sky doesn’t say anything in reply. He just stares back at Riven, droplets of sweat and pain still caught in his lashes. His chest feels warm, his body heavy. Like he could stay here forever. Riven held close to chest, their feelings burning like heavenly fire through their bond, the rest of the world a universe away.

Sky and Riven. Just Sky and Riven.

There’s a sharp crunch of boots and Silva falls to a crouch beside Sky, startling them both out of their reverie.

“What,” he says in complete bewilderment, “the fuck was that?”

[leadingrebel]

Tears of rain by @claracivry

Summary: There's been a stabbing. Riven is losing a lot of blood. Sky's losing his mind.

[Read on AO3]

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Amor Vincit Omnia by @queen-of-the-wallflowers15 

Summary: It all happens in a matter of seconds- seeing Riven on the other side of the battlefield to seeing Riven crumpling on the ground, a knife in his chest. But falling in love with him? That had taken what felt like a lifetime.

[Read on AO3]

A/N: We loved working on these collabs together for FTWS RBB and hope you like it!

[leadingrebel]

A/N: Skyriv I wrote for FTWS Kink Meme (which means kinky E rating)

Breathe From Me

Word count: 3523

Summary:

“I want to try,” he said quietly, but all firm words. Cuffing Riven’s hands back around his throat. “I need to get over it, Riv.”

Riven’s eyes fixated on the image of his fingers curling over the shape of his neck. His chest hurt.

He breathed in deeply.

“You think... this would help?” His thumb drew a crescent moon over his Adam’s apple.

[Read on AO3]

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Something to Prove

Word count: 1172

Summary:

“C’mon, say it,” he taunted, voice smooth and dripping intoxicating sweetness. “Better than you.”

A hand slid up to his neck before Sky looked at him in the eye. Thumb running up and down a tendon, palm spanning from side to side, pressing down while they shared the same breath, lips brushing.

“Are you?” Sky whispered; that lower, deeper colour tainting his voice, making adrenaline bolt through his veins. “Prove it.”

[Read on AO3]

[leadingrebel]

by sb edits

[leadingrebel]

Riven doesn’t say anything the first time nor the second one, the tenth or the fifteenth. He bites his tongue from twentieth to thirtieth. He claws silently at the wall when he hears Sky throwing up four days in a row.

Riven thinks he’s doing a fine job of playing the lenient, understanding friend — simply palming Sky’s shoulder when he reeks of vomit and can barely stand straight — and he’s skinning his knuckles raw trying to keep still the terrified brother inside of him.

But even he has a limit. And it’s the moment when Silva’s gaze steels away from empathy when Sky spits at his feet, when he breaks Dane’s nose and Luke dislocates his shoulder in return, when Musa bolts from the cafeteria the moment Sky enters and doesn’t come near Riven as long as they’re together, when not even Terra wants to play the understanding defender anymore and Stella stops trying to pull him up because he’s dragging her down and down.

The tears in Stella’s eyes make Riven realise Sky might be too heavy to pull up just by sheer force. He might need someone that goes down with him and stays there, drowning placidly.

He realises all those words fit well enough to be a poem for his epitaph.

His own epitaph.

So, he jumps and goes down.

The next time he catches Sky drinking, he joins him. They share the bottle while he says some idiot remarks. Riven ends up drunk — and Sky doesn’t vomit.

He starts to drink faster than Sky after a couple of weeks. Riven wakes up with horrible headaches and snaps at everyone and makes Musa ditch training with him for a whole week — and Sky sleeps five entire hours each day without pills to pass out.

He drinks in larger gulps when he thinks Sky is annoyed by him grabbing the bottle so much. Riven throws up in the bathroom at the end of their hall and tastes bile in his throat every morning after breakfast — and Sky looks at him with lucid eyes and eats a whole plate of food at lunch.

Days are confusing and he can’t remember the luxury of fresh breath or a clear mind when Sky fights back.

Their room is a mess. Riven didn’t want to let it become this but his head is constantly split open and just the thought of moving his muscles even more after training makes him sick to his stomach. He thought he could handle drowning with Sky while also drawing some oxygen from the surface so they don’t suffocate, but it seems he thought too much of himself.

He can bear the awful feeling of his body with some smokes but he can’t fight it all, he can’t keep his head afloat while actively trying to drown.

But he’s definitely going to try.

Sky looks at him from under his eyelashes when he takes a gulp so big his cheeks flood, and he has to swallow three times to empty his mouth.

“Hey,” he protests. “I have to get drunk, too.”

Riven knows Sky’s had a bad day — one of Bloom’s rings was under their sofa and he pushed Silva off a training platform to throw it to the pond with a ragged scream — but Riven is feeling very, very tired of being the less shit of the two.

“I can get drunk for both of us, mate” Riven puts a smirk in place and shakes the bottle in the air. “I’ve been doing it since we met.”

Something in the light of Sky’s eyes hesitates for a second but his brow furrow with a blink and it’s gone.

“Well, I have a lot of catching up to do so give it here.” He reaches for the bottle but it flies through the air, and he misses it.

Riven’s teeth clench and his nostrils flare before drinking the largest swig of the night.

“What the fuck, Riv?!” Sky’s shove makes whisky run down his neck and him, fall on his side over the duvet.

The alcohol in his veins forces something embarrassingly soft escape from his lips and he burrows his face in the bed, hoping Sky can’t hear him.

Taking deep breaths of sheets that haven’t smelt clean in a month, Riven tries to clear his thoughts and find strength in the deepest part of a dark corner to try to pull Sky up. Just a little. Please. Just a little.

He leaves the bottle balancing precariously against a pillow and straightens his back to look at the other side of the bed. His hands are now free to hold Sky’s neck from both sides and bring him closer until their foreheads touch.

His shoulders sink with a sudden weight and his fingers tangle in blond hair to avoid falling down.

His entire body sags against that single point of connection.

“Sky,” his voice leaves him in a whine, like the last sounds of a wounded animal. “I’m here.”

There’s bile under his tongue and he no longer can tell the difference between emotional and physical.

“I’m here,” he repeats, pupils drilling into Sky’s to make him understand — make him see.

Sky’s jaw moves, but his lips don’t. He remains silent, but a hand fists Riven’s shirt tight enough to leave a mark. His head becomes heavier and his breaths, shorter.

Riven blinks repeatedly to avoid the sickness growing in his stomach from looking at something so closely.

“You— you don’t have to,” Sky murmurs after a while.

Air rushes through the veins in Riven’s body and leaves in a deep sigh, the tip of his nose sliding until it bumps with another.

“I’m gonna be here until we can be somewhere else.”

Silence envelopes them again.

The fist in his shirt unclenches and runs up his chest to join the other one in holding the back of his shirt’s collar. He hears Sky’s teeth grind and the bones of his jaw moving and the sound of his throat working.

He feels timid fingers brushing the hair at his nape.

“We can start looking for somewhere else tomorrow,” Sky whispers, voice cracking twice in a sentence.

Riven knows better than to believe such an easy-looking path, but he believes in the trembling, scared self-distrust lacing Sky’s words.

He grabs the neck of the bottle with one hand and weaves the tip of his fingers through Sky’s.

“Tomorrow.”

i wanna know what they were gonna actually do with Sky’s relationship with alcohol plotline that got dropped along with everything else. In s1, Sky not drinking before the kegger because he’s worried about Silva. criticizing Riven for drinking too much. drinking at the party anyway because Bloom, chasing the burned one because he was drunk and angry. in s2, drinking for fun in Blackbridge and drinking secretly while on guard duty. Andreas telling him to get drunk to cope. Saul telling him not to and just fucking deal with it. 

was he drunk when Sebastian found him? does he turn back to alcohol after Bloom leaves for the shadow realm? does Riven, notorious substance user Riven, manage to get through to him in a way Saul can’t?

[leadingrebel]

You can’t get married on your own

Word count: 1549

A/N: This post with Jo’s tags is at fault. Much fluff, very silly.

Summary: 

“But we need to find the very important people,” he said, ignoring Sky was still running after the last wagon. “Like, not Blackbridge mayor level. Higher. Much higher. Solarian elite only. Billionaires of the Otherworld.”

Riven was typing furiously on his phone, when a hand pushed his head down.

“Stop.” Sky said, tapping his neck. “You can’t get married on your own, Riv. That’s not how it works.”

[The one where they send fake wedding invitations to billionaires so they get the expensive things they can't buy as gifts.]

[Read on AO3]

[leadingrebel]

To Outrun a Fire

Word count: 2045

A/N: The S2 trailer scene with Sky and Dane fighting + all the talk about a “love triangle” = SkyRiv angst.

Summary:

Sky felt like Riven was slipping through his fingers.

He woke up every day to one more piece in their bond missing.

A deep, constantly growing dark abyss between them.  

Everything was cold and empty inside their room. Outside, it was hot with anger and unrest.

[Read on AO3]

[leadingrebel]

Riven had always reserved the edge of his peripheral vision to locating Sky in the battlefield.  

Since the first time they’ve been sent on a mission as a team, where he had learned his brain functioned much better if he compartmentalised where Sky was and how to beat the opponent.

That was why he noticed that when Kat approached Sky and rested a hand on his arm, he didn’t move an inch.

Riven looked around one last time to ensure there was nothing else that wanted them dead near and then turned towards where Sky kept looking at the ground, motionless. There was something wrong in the way Kat kept trying to get him to react.

Riven’s heart jumped to his throat.

He sheathed his swords and rushed to them. Sky’s trembling hands made him skip a heartbeat.

“Kat, regroup everyone and check injuries,” he said as soon as he was close enough.

Kat’s eyes were worried and fatigue made her shoulders drop, but she nodded and left them alone.

Because they were alone. Silva was not with them. They had lost him along way or perhaps they had been the ones that got lost.  

A wave of darkness had engulfed them and they had fought their way through blindly. When the darkness receded, they were far away from the rickety trees they had been around before and it was only them. Just a handful of specialists around, and most of the initial group nowhere to be found. It had been a terrible blow to their resolve.

Riven knew the only reason he was still with Sky was because he had actively trailed after him during the fight. He didn’t know how the compartments of his mind would have worked if they had been separated.

He took Sky’s sword from his tight grip and let it fall to ground, leaving his fingers to shake in the air, and closed his hands around his wrists to make them stop.

“Sky?” he asked, swallowing the fear pooling in his chest. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes roamed Sky’s body up and down but couldn’t find an injury that could make him unresponsive.

Then, Sky’s shoulders trembled slightly, curving in on himself, and Riven felt warm drops hit his knuckles.

He tried to check but the moment his hands touched Sky’s cheeks he fell to ground on his knees. Riven’s thigh complained and the wound from their last fight reopened, but he let himself be dragged to his knees with him, hissing.

“Sky,” he said, urgently. “Sky, hey.”

He couldn’t give up now, he couldn’t. Riven didn’t have enough strength left inside of him to carry him. He was wounded, they all were. There was a plan, they had to follow the plan. They had to get up, they always had to get up. And if they didn’t know if they could get back up, they couldn't fall, in the first place.

Panic seized his ribs.

He tried to face him but Sky refused to lift his gaze off the ground. Riven took his face between his hands and shook his neck.

“Sky, please!”

Sky finally raised his head and Riven choked on air.

And ugly gash crossed his cheekbone and the blood running down mixed with the tears drowning his eyes.

“I’m so tired,” his voice croaked, a sob tearing from his throat.

Riven watched his broken expression through the blood dripping from his eyebrow. He had never seen Sky break down, not like this, not in this state. It felt like a punch to the stomach.

Sky’s ragged breaths clutched his heart in a tight grasp, pumping his blood at will.

As if he had infected him, Riven’s arms started trembling and he had to focus his mind and tear it away from the feelings threatening to drown him mercilessly.

His fingers brushed the blood and the tears from Sky’s cheeks and dragged his head to the hollow of his neck.

“Me too,” he rasped.

He held Sky there, fingers running through blond hair, while his own tears fell. He felt two fists close around his armour and something under his breastbone broke, spilling grief everywhere inside of his chest.

He cursed the universe to get rid of some of the rage and begged it for a break to gain some hope.

Sky held on to him and Riven felt anxiety grasp at his throat because he didn’t know how to be anyone’s steady pillar, much less Sky’s, even if he desperately wished he could pull Sky up every single time.

He let Sky rest on him until his breathing evened a little, but they couldn’t stay in the same place for much more time. Taking Sky’s face once again, he pushed him away gently.

“They’re counting on us,” he said firmly, his eyes boring into Sky’s. “We have a plan; we have to keep going, Sky.”

Sky’s expression pinched and a whimper surged up his chest.

Riven’s hands held him tighter, hoping to ground him. He blinked rapidly, the remains of his tears blurring the blue he was looking in — darkened, muted, far away.

He leaned softly until their foreheads touched.

“I’ll heal your wounds and we’ll...” He looked at the sky around them, unchanging in its colour, in its brightness. “We’ll rest for a while, okay?”

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed. This place was cursed to its very core, to its very atmosphere. Everywhere he looked, there were only grey skies and dark lands. There was no sun and it never grew dark unless a dark storm caught you in its claws.  

Riven didn’t know how to manage the resting sessions when there was no night and he could see how everyone was wearing thinner around him. He had to make another compartment for counting seconds.

“We’re gonna find everyone and then we’ll get the fuck out of this shithole,” he spoke with all the conviction that was left in him.

Riven wanted to promise him, but couldn’t find it in him to do so.

And still, Sky nodded against his forehead and leaned further into him.

feeling very deeply salty and tired of being positive for one night. send in what SPECIFIC SCENE you wanted to see in s3.