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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

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dark academia

Note: This's from my "choose an aesthetic and I'll do a harry writing on it." challenge. It's still open. You can inbox me your favourite ones!!!

P.S: It's kinda sentimental and awfully soft full of fluff gave me a bit sinking feeling :(

TW MENTIONS OF DEATH.

💛

Blood-Rays of setting sun like a pearl shining upon the ocean slants through the slabs on the oak desk Y/N's sitting at studying for her mid-terms. It's Autumn. The library smells of dry lavenders and every often an aroma of biscuits pooled in butter whiffs under her nose as the librarian sitting infront of the stony fire-place relishing onto the treats petting her cat along.

She's drowned into a baggy london's fog grey coloured sweater tucked into taupe pleated skirts and her hair tressed back into a ribbon.

The world around seems cosy and warm to her as the voices billowed to mere soft hushes of rustling leaves, she almost forgot there are people around her when a pair of strong arms came wrapping around her shoulders hugging her ever tight she was never embraced this goodly before, "oof who're you?" She whispers comically akward as he has her face squished into his neck.

"Oops, wrong timeline, love." Meet Harry. He just came here to meet his girlfriend and just realized that they're not dating yet. He has time traveled to her first year of UNI and she might seems a bit off from all the bustle in her life.

He shies away when she doesn't get him and raises her brows in questioning. He's still in awe that in every era she looked beautiful.

"Mhm . . .uhm should go, take it as a free hug from me!" He spins around quickly to scramble away from her due to the embarrassment he caused to himself and not to let her show how flustered he's in her presence.

"Wait!!" She whisper yells following him and stopping him by putting her hand on his shoulder, "Would you like a cuppa of coffee, tea perhaps?" Books in her arms and a tote bag hanging at side.

"Then you could explain me your free hug policy too." His bunny nose twitched and he nods grinning. He looks so snuggly and warm — and all the words Y/N describes as a patchy cottage in the sandalwood forest.

"Ah! the chances of me not dying virgin seems less to me now." She jokes when Harry told her he's her boyfriend in future and her heart did a lil dance of having someone this gorgeous, "You're beautiful, candyeyed." He assures her when she thought there were faults in her that nobody seemed to be attracted to her.

Is it the pet name he calls her? She likes it.

"So . . .? You love me then, Harry?" She stirs the tea spoon not meeting his gaze and something hits her hard, swallowing her whole when his sincere voice melted in her ears.

"'Course, love you so much." She frowns taking in the tears at his bayline and it makes her stroke his knuckles, asking him in genuine concern.

"You alright?" He shakes his head sniffling the sentiments back and quickly speaks seeing his hand disappear from under her, "gotta go, bye -bye."

"Will you come to meet me, again?" She rushes and he smiles giving her a flying kiss with puckering lips, "Always candyeyed, always."

"You're telling me that my future self wrote letters to me present self?" She gasps with a slack jaw and Harry bobs his head happily, leaning away from the book shelf in her room to walk towards her flopping beside her.

"That's exciting and scary at the same time." She quips with a sigh snuggling to his side and when glances up he's already gazing down at her in utter fondness, "nope, you're gonna do so good." He runs his thumb over her shoulder blades and she almost melted into his touch.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Can I kiss you, my love?" She nods without taking her eyes away from him and they slip shut when Harry cupped the back of her neck bringing her closer to put his plushie mouth on her's and kiss her with reverent that nourishes in his heart everytime he sees her, it'll never die.

When she sees him vanishing she kisses him harder, "don't go this early, will miss you." He showers her in pecks promising her that he'll come to meet her to the day he's alive.

"What you mean to say's that I'll die? Is that soon?" Her voice wavers and Harry cuddles her closer to his chest to comfort her. Maybe, it was a bad idea telling her the truth. Indeed it was when soft sniffles and hiccups emitted from her.

"Don't cry baby. It hurts me awful." He sponges lil kisses to the dip of her neck, pinching his breath in his throat to stop himself from crying. He misses her terribly and the bed feels cold without her being in his arms.

"'M just frightened 'n, 'n I don't want to leave you." She sobs. She's a sensitive person. But, who wouldn't cry knowing they'll die early than their 60's or whatever. To divert her attention he shines light upon more beautiful moments.

"We've a gorgeous lil baby boy and he just said his first word! Wanna know what it's?" He chirps and she nods wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater, "Mama!!" It makes her inners bursts. She couldn't fathom in million years that she'd be this lucky.

"He's a mama boy then." She giggles but Harry's silence halts her and it all dawns upon her. Too late as Harry lets out ugly sobs from his lungs and it wells up her eyes too, "'m sure you're gonna a good daddy, Harry." He calms himself cupping her cheeks and tilts his chin to kiss her lips.

"I love you so much. Our baby bambi loves you so much." He lays them back under the blankets cuddling her to him and she smiles wet-ly cheek smushed over his chest as she admires him, "Guess his name?"

"Tove?" She asks with a glint of happiness, "Absolutely! I call him tovie-dovie." Their heartbeats in melancholy and sync.

"Tell him, I love him so much."

"Every day, baby. Every day."

She writes letters to their baby boy daily, not letting him think that he'll be forlorn of his mother's love. Special ones for his birthday's and flowers tucked in each envelope with a message of kindness and love.

She was bringing her tea from the kitchen to her room when she hears thump of footsteps outside it doesn't startle her anymore. Harry keeps on coming and going many times, his visits are frequent now even if they're for some hours. He teases her that she'll forget about him after meeting the one with her present timeline and she always kisses him affectionately with a murmur, "Doesn't matter all Harry's belongs to me."

The cup falls on the carpet and it leaves the stain but she doesn't care as harry stands infront of her with a boy who looks exactly like her and got mellowness of hazel in his irirses, he looks upto his father at the visible shock they influenced her and Harry just cooes at him.

"C'mon bubba mama's waiting to cuddle ye' up." He pats his head and urges him forward. His smile bright as Y/N hunches on her knees and opens her arms to embrace her darling, "Mama!" He toddles excitedly to her and it made her cry more.

The moment he was in her arms she knew nothing mattered anymore and it was worth dying for this bundle of joy in her arms, "Mama." He again babbles caressing his face against her cheek as she hugged him for dear life.

"Tovie turned two and he time travels too." Harry explains and god knows how much effort harry put in to teleport them together at the same timeline.

"Yes, my love, my dear life 'm your mama. I love you so much bubby." She smacks loud kisses all over his soft baby face and he giggles at the top of his chest stopping her. "Happy birthday, Tovis, how bout we celebrate!?" She just kept on kissing her baby knowing that she wouldn't be able to do it after he'll born.

"Love you mama." The poor bug wanted to say this loud for so long.

"Me to bubby, me too."

Harry swipes them two in a big blankety hug and anoggles them tightly to his chest making them laugh terribly loud, "Me too!!" He squeaks cheekily smothering them in kisses and they think they'll figure out how to find happiness.

#traveler harry x reader #travelthon #harry styles #cute harry #harry styles blurb #hsh #fluff #harry smut #harry angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry

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rrrawrf-writes · 5 years ago

Text

we march, we march

more of the gift for @kclenhartnovels, because i can’t shut up.

fodder for the earth || part one || part two || part three

tw: war, blood, un-explicit surgery

They didn’t stay much longer than that. Marles checked Banner and Brody both over, and finally grumbled that Reme’s work on them was “passable.”

Reme grinned over at Brody, slipping his arm across her shoulders and helping him to stand. “Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever had higher praise.”

Brody gave her a wan smile in return. “He’s gotta be growing soft.”

Marles growled at them both to shut up as he stuffed his supplies back into his kit. Banner looked over the letter in his hands, slipped from the dead Cordellan’s pocket. He’d scrubbed his hands in the river over and over, until his skin was raw and chafed, but he still felt sick to his stomach, and tired.

So tired.

He’d left bloody fingerprints on the envelope, as best as he’d tried to avoid it. Banner startled when Reme brushed his elbow.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked quietly. Banner nodded automatically. He didn’t want to stay here, anyway, at the edge of a battlefield that had been torn up by the Cords’ own out-of-control magic, where he’d killed a mage-soldier at their own request, needlessly.

His stomach clenched, and he leaned forward a little, but he’d already thrown up everything he had in him. Marles eyed him, then wordlessly passed a flask to Banner. “We’ve fallen behind. They’ll be marching through most of the night, and we don’t know when they’ll send the carrion crows out here.”

Both armies would have people returning to the field, to take care of their dead and scavenge weapons and armor. At least, from what was left after bandits and the like picked the corpses over. Banner hoped they’d be too frightened to come here before the death crews did.

He took a drink from the flask, and grimaced as layek burned down his throat. Banner blinked once, twice, hard, then passed it to Brody. The poor scout probably needed it more than him, especially with his twisted ankle. In a few minutes, the energy from the layek would crash into them, and judging by how strong the taste was, it would carry them through the morning.

“You always pack the strong stuff,” Banner muttered, as Brody took a swallow and grimaced. Marles gave him a dry smirk as he took the flask back; Reme refused it with a shake of her head.

“I ain’t lumping you on my back,” Marles huffed. “So keep up, or join the rest of ‘em.” He gestured towards the battlefield. Reme rolled her eyes.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered.

“Don’t call me sir,” Marles huffed, and Reme made a childish face at him.

“If you insist, your lordship,” she said instead. Marles shot her a dirty look.

Banner put himself between the two of them. His clothes, singed ragged from the rough night, chafed against the burns on his skin, and he quietly ushered the small group along. They moved slowly, picking their way between the dead and recent gouges in the ground. He wondered if they had been from the earth mage, and then firmly turned his thoughts from that, his stomach churning.

Still, his tears didn’t dry until they had reached the shelter of the trees half a mile away. The going was just as slow through here, but for different reasons: instead of corpses and pitfalls impeding their path, they had to struggle through brush and over thick, tangled roots, until Marles found a game trail that headed the same way they were.

They didn’t talk much, and had to rest frequently. Banner insisted it was for Brody’s sake, and the scout’s ankle, but he felt a weary relief with each stop. The soothing from the burn ointment earlier had long faded, but he didn’t ask Marles for more. He knew the medic’s kit was running low.

The rest of Marles’ extremely strong layek had the four of them going well past sunset. Banner knew they would be late to muster back up with the original force, but he didn’t want to take any longer than they needed to. Still, as the moon crept above the trees, he stumbled over rocks and tree roots, and could hear the others cursing or grunting whenever they did the same. Tovi would be ashamed of the lot of them, he thought, too weary to care about the noise they were making when he tripped right over the Cord soldiers.

Literally - Banner pushed through a pair of bushes and his foot caught on someone’s outstretched ankle. That someone let out a cry of pain, and a second later, someone else bulled into Banner from the side, the two of them crashing to the ground.

The Cordellan soldier was much bigger than him, but Banner instinctively grabbed onto his shirt and threw a knee into the man’s stomach, prompting a grunted curse. Banner heaved him off, struggling to his feet. He couldn’t get up any further than his knees when the metal swatches of his brigandine jerked and pulled him backwards, slamming him against a broad tree. Banner grabbed for his sword, but it bucked in his scabbard, and he looked up as the Cordellan picked himself up, drawing his own weapon.

Marles stumbled between them before the Cord could get any closer; over the medic’s shoulder, Banner could see another pair of Cordellan soldiers, a dark-haired man kneeling over a woman lying on the ground.

“Stop!” Marles snapped at the bigger of the three soldiers, and to Banner’s surprise, the man backed down immediately, clearly recognizing the cut of a medic’s uniform, or maybe the gold ring on Marles’ middle right finger.

Banner tugged at his sword anyway, but it remained stuck in the sheath, and the patches of metal on his armor kept pressing backwards, keeping him pinned against the tree. Out of the corner of Banner’s eye, he could see Reme and Brody, wide-eyed; she reached down for her knife, and Banner quickly shook his head.

“Get out of the way, medic,” the first soldier spat, his hair a dusty blonde and his sword in his hand. He was nearly twice Marles’ size, but the medic just glared him down. The wind picked up and howled around them - it hadn’t been windy earlier.

“Stand down,” Marles snarled back, as much to Reme and Brody as the Cords; the other man stood up, now, placing himself between the Eolans and his comrade on the ground. “I call medic’s peace.”

That made the dark-haired Cordellan pause, and Banner’s breath came a little easier when the pressure on him from his armor eased. The blond one frowned. “What?”

“Marles,” Reme hissed, her eyes widening.

“It means, we’re not fighting tonight,” Marles said sharply. “And if they attack you, any harm they do to you, you do to me in turn.”

Banner shoved away from the tree, and this time, his armor allowed him, though his sword remained firmly in his scabbard. He grabbed Marles by the arm, pulling him back, and hissed, “The metal mage’s here.”

“Quiet, Lieutenant,” Marles said curtly, while the two Cordellan soldiers watched them carefully. Reme left Brody supported against a tree, and came to join Banner and Marles.

The woman on the ground groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her face was so pale it nearly glowed in the darkness, puckered by a scar down the side of her face. “Here’s the problem,” she said, her voice shaky but hostile. “We might want to kill your friends, instead.”

“You really think you could?” Reme warned.

“I told you all to shut up,” Marles said flatly. He looked past the soldiers, and Banner followed his gaze; a weary pony snatched at ferns and bits of grass poking up from the roots around them. “You have food.”

The big soldier shifted his weight, eyes narrow. The wind kicked up around them. “You gonna take it?”

“Don’t see any medical supplies.” Marles waited a beat, then stepped forward. Banner opened his mouth to give a warning, but closed it at the dark look Marles sent him. Rumors had been running through the ranks: the Cords had taken a medic captive a month ago, beaten her, killed her, broken every convention surrounding medics and healers.

Marles, when he’d heard, had scoffed. “People say that every time,” he’d said, bandaging up a shallow, but long and bloody gash down Banner’s side. “We can’t believe it, Tadsson, else we’ll break the same rules, and then no medic would be safe.”

Maybe it was just a rumor, just an excuse to dishonor themselves. But Banner eyed the Cords and stepped closer to Marles anyway.

The big soldier eyed Marles suspiciously, then sighed. “What are you saying?”

“Medic’s peace,” Marles said curtly. “Truce.” He jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating Banner and the two others. “Feed them. I’ll look at your friend.”

“Marles,” Banner protested, at the same time the female Cord said, “Not a chance in hell.”

The blond man exchanged a look with the dark-haired soldier, then sighed. “Fine.”

“Boar!” the woman hissed. He looked down at her and snapped, “Sergeant, you’re bleeding out. You’re hurt, and I’m hungry -”

“You’re always hungry,” murmured the other soldier with a slight smile.

“ - and I’m fucking tired of fighting!” Boar might have thrown down his sword in frustration, except looked down and realized he’d stab his sergeant through the leg if he did. He looked extremely disgusted that he couldn’t throw anything to make his point.

"Lieutenant," Reme said plaintively. Banner looked over his shoulder at her. He couldn't tell if she disagreed, or if she wanted the relief of not having to cut these people down.

Banner sighed through his nose. He was tired of fighting, too.

His hands went to his belt again. The soldier by the pony and the Cord sergeant gave him a sharp look, and Banner's sword started to slide out of its sheath under its own volition - until Banner undid his belt, and passed it and the sword over to Marles. "Truce, then?"

Despite his outburst, Boar looked hesitant. It was the metal mage who finally sighed, and undid his own sword belt. "Truce," he agreed, albeit warily, as he passed the sword over to Marles.

"I object to this," the female sergeant fumed. Boar gave a crooked grin as he reached down to help her to her feet.

"Sorry, Sarge," he told her, supporting her with a strong arm. "C'mon, there's a clear area over here, we can set up a fire and - and whatever."

He looked to the metal mage, and asked, "Mind grabbing my sword?"

"That's your wife's job, Boar."

Banner stopped listening to them, glancing back to check on the rest of his group. He didn't want to hear the Cords banter with each other, or Marles chastising Boar for his improper handling of the wounded sergeant, or Boar's soothing words to his officer. He didn't want to think of these people as - as people.

He and Reme helped Brody to the clearing Boar had found. With the pony’s bulk, and the sergeant needing to lie down, it was cramped, but it was better than trying to sort themselves out among the thickly-crowded trees and brambles. He helped to clear the space a little more, while Reme started a fire and settled Brody down next to it; he'd been shivering all day, probably from the dunk in the river.

The campfire smoke drifted up, getting caught in the thick foliage overhead. Now and then, a small breeze filtered it away, and Banner started to think that either Boar or the sergeant was controlling that. It didn't make him feel much better. Reme and Brody watched the Cordellans warily, who watched them back just as carefully, while the metal mage warmed some of the promised food from the pack pony over the fire. Boar finally settled down by the metal mage, and smiled over at them. "You guys are, what, a patrol?"

Marles shook his head, but it was impossible to tell if he was answering the question, or disgusted at the poor bandaging wrapped around the sergeant's abdomen.

"We got split away from the battalion," Brody piped up, when no one else answered. "After the last battle, and - and the fires." His eyes hadn't left the bright, crackling campfire since it started, except for the split second whenever he had to sneeze. He shivered and pressed closer to Reme. Banner, rather than settle with them next to the fire, dropped down by a tree, leaning back against the trunk.

"Oh, same here," Boar said. "Pretty rough one this time, huh?"

"Boar," the metal mage muttered, but with a sense of resignation that suggested the man was irrepressible.

Brody glanced over to where Marles crouched over the sergeant. "What happened to her?"

"Ah, one of your lot stabbed her in the gut," Boar said, rolling his broad shoulders in a shrug. "Wasn't too bad, except she took a nasty spill earlier, down a hill, and we think it tore up the wound a bit more."

"You shouldn't have been moving her in the first place," Marles huffed, and when the sergeant opened her mouth, he cut her off by pressing down on her stomach as he tended to her, washing the wound out with what was left of their precious water. She gave a strangled squeak instead.

"We couldn't just stay there," Boar pointed out. He grinned. "Not with crazy Eolans still running around looking to start another fight."

"Let's not talk about the war," Reme put in. With a grim smile, she added, "Might remind a few of us what we're doin' here."

That managed to shut Boar up, at least for a moment; he looked at Reme with a slight frown, eyeing her brown skin patched with white. "Are you -"

"I'm not sick."

"...Wasn't gonna ask that," Boar mumbled, with the tone of voice that suggested that that was exactly what he had been about to ask. Reme scoffed.

Along with the food supplies on their little pack pony, the Cords had a few bits of cookware. When Reme noticed a small kettle, she asked for it. The mage, barely looking up, twitched his fingers. and it lifted itself and floated over. Brody stared at it for a moment, before Reme sighed and picked it up.

"What are you making?" Boar asked.

"Layek. The good kind," Reme added, digging a flask from her pack, as well as a small bag of spices. "The keeps-you-going kind."

"Don't wanna keep going," Boar stuffed into his beard.

"Maybe not, but your sergeant does," Marles gruffed right back. Reme hadn't been making it for the sergeant, but she didn't protest as she heated some water. The small camp fell into an awkward silence as they all waited for the food and the layek to be done. Banner, slouched against the tree, preferred it over the attempts at idle chatter. He glanced up at the sky, though he couldn’t see much in between the crowded leaves and pines. Far off, they all heard a single wolf raise its voice.

Brody looked up from the fire at long last, and Reme hummed slightly under her breath. The Cord sergeant eyed them narrowly as Marles wiped blood from her stomach, then asked snidely, “Listening to your people?”

Reme’s gaze darted straight for her, her expression jumping to cutthroat. She opened her mouth, but then Banner caught her eye, and shook his head. They didn’t need to respond to jibes like that, as much as it put his own back up.

“You do have that mutt patch,” Boar pointed out, albeit his tone was a bit more careful, as he nodded to the emblem the Eolan soldiers all wore on their jackets - a red dog, leaping. “Don't think I’ve actually seen any of your soldiers wearing that before.”

“Please don’t call us that,” Brody said, timidly.

“What, mutt?” the sergeant said, and flinched when Marles pressed a bit too hard on her wound. She dropped her head back against the ground and grumbled under her breath.

“If you don’t like being called dogs, then why do you wear ‘em?” Boar asked.

“Listen, pig,” Reme snapped in Brody’s defense, when the scout frowned and ducked his head, “you know exactly why it’s an insult, coming from you bastards.”

Boar bristled. “Don’t call me pig -”

“Rilsama’s Deeps,” Reme scoffed, “do you hear yourself?” Brody looked anxiously between the two of them; the fire flared a little, but no one noticed.

“Look, it was an innocent question -”

Banner cupped his hands around his mouth and howled back to the wolf, interrupting the conversation. He did an eerily realistic job; even Marles got a shiver down his spine, and glared over at Banner. The Cordellans shifted uncomfortably as, all around them, somewhere deep in the forest, half a dozen other wolves joined the song.

Reme smiled to herself and stirred the fire.

After a moment, Boar muttered, “Still don’t see why we can’t -”

“Shut up, pig,” the metal mage said pointedly.

The wounded Cordellan sergeant cried out, and Marles swore, his hands covered up to the wrists in her blood. “Reme,” he snapped over his shoulder, as the woman writhed beneath him. Reme got to her feet.

Boar stood up to intervene, alarmed by the sudden crying of his sergeant. “Wait -”

“Get the fuck out of her way,” Marles snarled over his shoulder. Reme pushed past Boar to kneel down, pressing her hands gently on the sergeant’s shoulders as she struggled.

“You’re killing her,” Boar protested. The wind howled around them, nearly drowning out the wolves’ cries. The metal mage got up, too, and hovered anxiously over the medic, Reme, and their patient.

“What happened?”

“Stop talking,” Marles snarled. “Sit down, you fat bastard, you’re in my light.”

“Something’s stuck in her wound,” Reme said.

“I could help -” started Boar, but Marles interrupted.

“Help by getting out of my light.”

Boar frowned deeply, but he backed away, eyebrows creasing, when the metal mage touched his arm. Banner was on his own feet by now, still watching the Cords intently. It didn’t matter that Marles had taken all their weapons, stacking them off to the side. He didn’t trust these people - especially when he suspected that either Boar or the sergeant were a mage, too.

“You,” Marles snapped over his shoulder, looking at the metal mage. “C’mere. How good are you with your magic?”

“Marles,” Banner started anxiously.

“Sit down, Lieutenant,” Marles said curtly. The metal mage stepped over, careful not to get between Marles and the campfire, and Reme made room to allow him to kneel down next to her. “Looks like a bit of a sword got stuck in there, and I can’t get it out without hurting her more,” Marles went on.

“You’re hurting her plenty,” Boar groused with a scowl, watching the way the sergeant moaned and writhed in pain. The metal mage frowned, looking over the wound as Marles held it open.

Banner fretted, twisting one of his rings around his finger, before moving towards Marles, too. Boar intercepted him, putting a hand on Banner’s arm. Banner glared up at him.

Marles didn’t even look up. “The two of you, go have your pissing contest somewhere else. There, in the bone,” he told the metal mage, carefully holding the bloody wound open. Reme did her best to keep the sergeant still, but the woman sobbed quietly, squirming nonetheless.

Banner didn’t see what happened, but he heard the sergeant cry out again, and Marles make an approving noise; he assumed they’d gotten the bit of metal out.

“Quit your crying,” Marles groused. “I don’t have anything to give you for the pain. Used it up already. We have to stitch, now, so it’s gonna hurt a hell of a lot more.”

Boar looked to Banner. “Your medic doesn’t know how to make people feel better.”

Banner snorted. “Trust me,” he muttered, “I know. But at least she’s not gonna die any time soon.”

When the metal mage stepped away, Banner relaxed, and went back to sit against his tree. Brody hadn’t said much this entire time, just watching the fire instead, and tending to the layek Reme had left behind. Marles threaded a needle. Reme shifted the woman’s head into her lap, brushing her sweat-soaked hair out of her face. She sang quietly, her words in Padrunni, and slipped a bit of leather from Marles’ kit into the sergeant’s mouth as he began stitching her together again.

The Cord woman whimpered around the leather, but - either through exhaustion, or Reme’s firm, but soothing, motions - kept still enough for Marles to sew the gash together again. It didn’t take long. Marles may not have had any sense of bedside manner, but his motions were quick, efficient, and effective.

“She’ll live, long as you can keep it from getting infected,” he grunted, tying off the thread. “I wouldn’t move her for a couple days.”

The metal mage frowned. “We have to. We can’t stay here. The Eolans -”

He cut himself off, frowning over his shoulder at the Eolans they were cooking dinner for. Marles glanced over at Banner, who sighed.

“We’re not regrouping near here,” he said, finally, looking away. “We’ve been straggling behind. You shouldn’t have to worry.” They shouldn’t have to worry about a real patrol of Eolan soldiers finding them. Able-bodied soldiers who wouldn’t think twice about taking them prisoner - or simply cutting them down.

Boar frowned slightly, glancing over at his dark-haired friend. Banner closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the tree. He flipped the letter from the Cordellan soldier over and over in his hands. Blood from the soldier still smeared the edges, as much as he’d tried wiping it away earlier. He knew he shouldn’t risk falling asleep, but dragons, he was so exhausted -

He startled from a light, unwitting doze when someone settled next to him. Banner reflexively reached for his hip, before realizing that he’d given his sword to Marles, and that they weren’t fighting. The metal mage arched his eyebrows and shifted a touch further back.

“Soup’s ready,” he said. He eyed Banner, before offering him a bowl. “We were introducing ourselves while you were napping. My name’s -”

“Don’t.” Banner took the bowl automatically, but looked away from the other man.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t,” Banner repeated. He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to know this man’s name. He didn’t want to know any of their names; he wished he could forget Boar’s ridiculous nickname, or the fact that the two men were simply protecting each other and their wounded sergeant. He didn’t want to look and see a friendly man offering him dinner. He didn’t want to know these people.

Because then he wouldn’t want to kill them.

The mage hesitated, then merely nodded and moved back to the fire. Branner cradled the bowl, letting it warm his hands. Reme offered the mage a dry smile, then offered, “He got a few lungfuls of smoke earlier. His throat probably still hurts.”

“Didn’t seem to be hurtin’ when he was howlin’ for the wolves earlier,” Boar muttered under his breath. Reme’s smile slid into a smirk.

She sat with the Cord sergeant’s head still in her lap; the woman seemed to have finally relaxed, her eyes glassy. Most likely from the layek, which was the only respite any of them would get from their pain and weariness.

Reme hummed idly as they ate, careful not to drop any of the soup on the sergeant. Besides her tune, the camp was quiet. Marles had moved on from the sergeant, and captured Boar’s arm, rucking up the man’s sleeve to inspect a gash on the inside of his forearm with a scowl. The big Cordellan looked both amused and irritated, but at least he knew better than to try and get Marles to leave him alone.

“What is that song?” the sergeant finally asked, her voice weak and her eyes drifting close. “I feel like I’ve heard it before.”

Reme stopped humming. She glanced over at Marles, then to Banner. “The old soldier’s song,” she said, finally. “You don’t look old enough to know it.”

The sergeant gave a soft scoff, cracking her eyes open to look up at Reme. “Speak for yourself. How old are you, sixteen?”

“And a half,” Reme said, grinning.

“Don’t think I’ve heard that one,” Boar said, leaning back on his free hand. Marles glared at him until he sighed and straightened back up. “It’s an Eolan one, right? Sarge, I thought you grew up too far west to hear anything from Eola.”

“It’s a soldier’s song,” Marles corrected. He eyed the three Cordellans. “From both sides. This your first war?”

Boar exchanged a look with the metal mage, before nodding. Marles grunted. “You probably wouldn’t know it, then, but you may as well hear it now.”

“Are you going to sing it for us, Marles?” Brody asked with a pain smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

Marles gave him a withering look. “And with who your father is? Can’t say as I’m surprised,” he grumbled. “Best turn that question to the arrow fodder. And best not tell any of your noble friends you’ve heard them singing it.”

Reme bit back a smile, looking over at Banner. His face reddened a touch as he looked into his bowl, still half-full of soup, and cooling rapidly. He didn’t feel much like singing.

He felt a lot like arrow fodder.

“Lieutenant,” Reme said quietly. When he didn’t look up, she said, “Banner,” to get his attention. “Songs help the healing.”

He knew she wasn’t talking about the wounded sergeant. “Don’t think this song does much healing,” he muttered. He set his bowl aside, unfinished, and found himself playing with the earth mage’s letter again. He looked down at the bloody thumbprints he’d left on the edges. Banner had washed his hands in the river afterwards, scrubbing them over and over - but in the firelight, they were red with blood again.

“You’re too young, Lieutenant, you shouldn’t know it either,” Marles muttered. Boar hissed between his teeth when Marles tightened the bandaging on his arm. Banner shrugged.

“My mother taught me,” he said quietly. “When she knew I was staying in after my conscription ended.”

Boar frowned a little. “Why’s that?”

Banner wished they could go back to pretending the others didn’t exist. “She said that, sooner or later, I’d get caught up in another war, and I better know what I was signing myself up for. She was in the navy,” he added belatedly. “Lost her arm fighting the Aabastroans.”

“Rotten luck,” murmured the sergeant. Banner shrugged again and looked away. “What’s the big deal about this? Isn’t it just a song?”

Marles, for the first time Banner could remember, gave them a crooked grin. Like most of his smiles, it wasn’t a happy or comforting one. “Should be. But it’s not good for morale when your footsoldiers realize that this - none of this - matters. That this war we’re fighting will never matter. All these lives lost will have been for nothing, except the pride of those who wear the crowns.”

Boar winced again, and Banner doubted it was from Marles’ tending.

“Gods, you’re one of those,” the sergeant grumbled, dropping her head back into Reme’s lap. “Of course it matters.”

“If it mattered,” Marles shot back, “then why are we fighting again? Wouldn’t’ve this been solved after the first conflict?” He didn’t give the sergeant a chance to answer, before surging on. “If it mattered, then why are we just sitting here, dogs and hawks, sharing a meal, instead of killing each other?”

The silence that followed was brittle and telling. Boar shifted uncomfortably, looking at the fire. The sergeant opened her mouth, then shut it again into a thin line. After a long moment, the metal mage said, “Let’s hear it, then.”

It was a moment before Banner realized the mage was staring at him. “What?”

“The song,” the metal mage said patiently. Banner’s face reddened slightly, and he looked down. A few seconds later, Reme began humming again, the same tune. He glanced at her, and she offered him a little smile.

He sighed, then straightened a little, looking upwards, past the smoke, past the leaves, to wherever the stars hid behind the foliage and the haze of the last day’s wildfires and battles. He’d never had any illusions that he had a good voice, but Reme had always liked it, coaxing him to sing more often for her.

He ran a hand through his hair. When he started to sing, quietly, Reme joined him, a much smoother counterpart to his smoke-roughened voice.

Over fields of blood Through a forest of graves We march, we march And pray we make it back home And pray we make it back home

We march to war We march to fight We march to save What we thought was right And pray we make it back home And pray we make it back home

Our swords are stained with blood Our hands, our hearts are too We fight, we kill We’ve learned nought else to do But pray we make it back home But pray we make it back home

We’ve served the crown We’ve paid our dues We’ve stained our souls with honor And suffered our king’s abuse And still we march, we march And pray we make it back home And pray we make it back home

Tell my love I miss her so But I cannot find the way back home My soul is weighed with blood This battlefield is all I know For I marched and marched And did not make it back home I did not make it back home

Banner couldn’t finish the last verse. His voice dropped, leaving Reme to finish the last notes on her own, her voice hovering in the air much the same way the smoke caught against the foliage overhead. Banner’s hands clenched, crinkling the paper in one fist, and he closed his eyes, seeing nothing but the Cordellan earth mage, smiling as Banner slit their throat.

He wanted to throw up.

“Marles, are you done?” Banner almost didn’t recognize himself speaking, his words sharp as he stood. Marles looked up, then shoved Boar’s arm away and nodded. “Good. We’re leaving.”

Brody blinked, startling out of his daze. He finally dragged his gaze from the fire. “We’re leaving?”

Glancing down, Banner flipped the letter over one more time, before rounding the fire. The metal mage stood, albeit a bit warily, when Banner held out the paper.

“Can you send that on to Finns?” he asked the mage quietly.

“What is it?”

“It’s from one of your own.” Banner didn’t say any more than that. He didn’t think he could. He turned away as soon as the mage took it with a slight frown, looking at the handwriting across the outside of the letter.

“Sir,” Brody said quietly. Banner came over to help him up. Brody exchanged an anxious look with Reme, and started to protest, but it died when he got a better look at Banner’s expression. Carefully, Reme eased herself out from underneath the Cordellan sergeant. Boar glanced to the metal mage, and then to their stack of weapons. The mage shook his head.

Reme went to retrieve their weapons. Marles pulled his coat off, and picked up Boar’s from where he’d dropped it on the ground earlier. He was in the middle of showing them how to put together a stretcher for the sergeant when Boar stiffened.

“Someone’s coming,” he said, quietly, mere seconds before the faint whicker of a horse could be heard. They all froze, Reme in the middle of buckling her sword belt on.

A thousand thoughts crashed through Banner’s head, all at once. Reme had given him and Brody their blades already, and even Marles looked to him, slowly distancing himself from the Cordellans. The wind picked up around them, and with it came voices - Eolan voices.

"Quiet the horse," Banner snapped over his shoulder; the metal mage went to it immediately, soothing the pony before it could whicker back. Banner kept Brody steady, his shoulders tense - though there was no reason that Banner should be tense. Those were his people, just out of sight. He shouldn’t be afraid. His stomach shouldn’t be so knotted.

He started to move with Brody, when he felt a familiar pressure return, the metal of his armor pressing against him. Banner turned to stare across the coals of a hastily snuffed fire at the metal mage. His free hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“What are you going to do?” the metal mage asked, his voice quiet. Banner didn’t answer, just looking at him, even while he felt Marles and Reme’s eyes on him. The wind picked up again.

Banner looked away. “Get her ready to move,” he told them curtly.

“We’re not going with you,” Boar hissed.

“I said, get her ready to move,” Banner snapped back, glaring right back at the other two men. “Reme, Marles, go meet them.”

He stared the metal mage down, though some small, quiet part of him was relieved when neither of the Cords made a move to stop Reme or Marles. After another long moment, Banner turned away to follow. Brody hissed when his injured foot bumped over a tree root, and Banner tightened his grip on the younger man.

They had to struggle through more brush, but when they finally caught up to the others, Banner glanced over his shoulder. He could see no sign of their little camp, or the three Cordellans (and one pack pony) they’d left behind. Reme and Marles spoke with a patrol of six Eolans, all mounted, all dressed in the blue and black of the cavalry. Banner propped Brody up against a tree, before saluting the patrol.

“Lieutenant Tadsson, Third Cohort, Seventh Battalion,” he said, shortening the usual introductions out of weariness.

“Lieutenant Delaney, Fourth Cohort, Fourth Battalion,” the leader of the patrol returned. She frowned down at them. “Everything all right? Your medic here was just telling us you came from the battlefield. You’re very far behind, Lieutenant.”

“We know.” Banner hesitated. Reme looked at him, then beyond him, towards the dark forest. “We had to stop and rest. What are you doing out here?”

“Patrolling.” Delaney grinned, leaning forward in her saddle. “Looking for stragglers, like you. Or like the other kind.”

“Got lucky,” one of the other horsemen piped up. “Found a coupla Cords, took care of ‘em quick enough. Looks like they’re more scattered than we are. Those fucking fires.”

“Those fires,” Banner repeated in a murmur. He and Delaney were the same rank, but he was sure he could stop them from dispatching the Cords they’d found. They could take them prisoner, instead, march them back to their mustering point.

“We’re on our way back,” Delaney added. “We can take your scout, there, put him on a horse and walk you all back. We just need to check a little bit further. You see anything, where you came from?”

He paused at the question. Reme stared at Banner, her eyes weary and pleading. Duty and obedience demanded that Banner tell the patrol about Boar and the others, just behind him, hiding in the trees, but something held him back.

He had to tell them. The metal mage was back there. If Banner kept silent, he would fight the Eolans again. He would cause havoc and death. More people would die, by their own swords and armor. More of Banner's people.

The next time Banner saw them, he would have to fight them. He would have to kill them.

The next time.

But not tonight.

Banner looked up to the officer and said, "We saw no one."

And as he said it, a cold weight settled in his stomach, at the same time a weight was lifted from his shoulders. A breeze filtered through their group, chilling the back of his neck.

"All right, then," the patrol officer said. She drummed her fingers against her thigh. “All right,” she repeated, and ran a hand down her face. “I’m exhausted, and we’re running behind. Get your scout up behind Albur, and let’s head back.” She turned their horse around, gesturing for the others to follow. Banner didn't move for a long moment. His hand curled around the hilt of his sword, as Marles moved to help Brody limp to one of the cavalrymen’s horses, Reme there to boost him into the saddle.

A brush of wind curled against the nape of Banner’s neck; a quiet voice murmured, Good dog. Banner shivered and slapped a hand to his neck, like a fly had bit him, and glared over his shoulder.

There was nothing there.

What had he done?

#iwrite #violetvineyard #banner #bannerworld #kclenhartnovels #reme #marles #brody #boar #tw blood #tw violence #tw war crimes #tw surgery

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squirrelacorngliterfarts · 7 years ago

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When It All Becomes Real. Part 14 Of “When He’s Not Around” Series.

“come on, they will love you” hvitserk said, kissing your forehead softly, his hands interlacing with yours.

you stood outside the magnificent hall you’d never truly had a chance to go into.....until today.

“hvitserk.....i-”.

“(y/n), trust me, please?” hvitserk pleaded, his eyes wide, staring hopefully into yours. you sighed, letting a small smile grace your lips.

“all right, all right. let me meet your family” you said, making hvitserk grin happily, kissing you quickly on the lips.

hvitserk opened the door for you, letting you walk in first, keeping his hand embraced with yours the entire time.

“mother! brothers! come here!” hvitserk called out, making your chest tighten with nerves and excitement.

you hoped they liked you.

suddenly, a very beautiful woman caught your eye. she smiled at her son, allowing the smile to drift to you.

“hello, hvitserk. who is this beautiful young woman you have brought into my hall?” hse asked, her voice careful yet commanding.

behind her, you seen two very tall boys standing in the doorway by the dining table.

hvitserk had mentioned his brothers before, even his half brother, bjorn, but at the moment you could only see the two of them.....

“this, mother, is (y/n). she is the woman i have been seeing for many months now. (y/n), this is my mother, queen aslaug” hvitserk said, gently nudging you towards his mother.

you went to bow in respect, until she placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“no need for that. it is lovely to meet you, (Y/n)” aslaug smiled, brushing her hand through your hair, showing off more of your face.

“(y/n), these are my brothers, ubbe, and sigurd. but.....where is ivar?” hvitserk asked, looking around him, mostly at the floor.

it was then you heard loud, dragging noises erupt through the hall.

“i am right here, brother” a soothing, dark, bone chilling voice said.

you turned and seen a black haired man pulling himself into a chair at the dining table.

he finally got settled and looked up, his dark, enticing blue eyes meeting yours instantly.

they softened the longer they stared into yours.

“this, love, is my youngest brother, ivar” hvitserk said, kissing your cheek.

so this was the younger brother hvitserk had warned you so greatly about. you could see why he had warned you, but on another level, not.

you could almost see right through him, how much he was suffering, how angry he was, how he had put a thick crust around his heart and soul.

ubbe and sigurd walked over and shook your hand, giving you kind smiles while doing so.

then, you walked over to ivar.

he met your eyes once more the closer you got.

you held your hand out to him.

“nice to meet you officially, ivar” you spoke gently, making ivar’s lips twitch just slightly.

he grabbed your hand, giving it a quick shake before pressing his lips to your knuckles.

“nice to meet you, (y/n)”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ivar moved closer, wincing as he lowered himself to his knees.

he tried to return your smile, but he just couldn’t.

you looked.....so sick.

torvi stood, looking at her shaking bloody hands.

“torvi, i am here, now, go clean yourself” ivar said, making torvi nod, walking away.

ivar could see tears spilling over her eyes, falling down her cheeks. ivar turned to his lover, brushing the hair from your sweaty face, his palm pressing against your hot skin.

“i am sorry it took me so long to come, love” ivar whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you shuttered lightly, shaking your head at him.

“you are here now, ivar, that is all that matters” you said, teeth chattering.

ivar looked at all the blood surrounding you.

“what.....what happened?” ivar croaked out, his eyes searching your pain filled ones.

“i was in the hall.....talking to h-hvitserk”.

ivars jaw clenched hearing the person he hated mosts name fall from her lips.

“we were talking and then.....then i felt a horrible p-pain” you whimpered, your hands clenching the white sheet you were sat on.

“t-torvi was not sure if i los-st the ch-child or not. i was so sc-scared” you cried, making ivar move closer, his one leg caging you in, allowing you to lay back on his chest.

ivar squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to even understand the pain she was in at this moment.

he rocked you back and forth gently, kissing your head over and over, whispering words of love and encouragement.

“i am sorry, ivar” you sobbed quietly, pressing your face into his chest.

“there is nothing to be sorry about, (Y/n)” ivar said, his throat tight and thick. he wanted to cry, but he needed to be strong for her.

“i am sorry for putting you through all th-this pain. i should have left hvitserk s-sooner” you cried.

ivar shook his head, placing a hand under your jaw to make you look at him.

“none of this is your fault, do not blame yourself, do you hear me?” ivar asked, but was quickly cut off as (y/n) screamed once more, her hands grabbing ivars.

he watched as another stream of blood poured from her.

“torvi!” ivar yelled, and in an instant tovi was back, blood still caking under her nails.

torvi got low and looked under your dress, her eyes widening.

“she is dilating slowly, it is almost time, she’s losing too much blood” torvi said to ivar over your screams of pain.

torvi pressed her hands on your belly, feeling around.

“the baby is fine.....” torvi muttered, looking to ivar with pain filled eyes.

“d-do, what you h-have to.....to s-save m-my child” you seethed, hands gripping ivars with steel force.

you didn’t care what it took, this child meant more than your life, and if sacrificing your life would save your baby, you’d do it a million times over.

“we will do what it takes to save the both of you” torvi said, giving you a teary smile.

torvi looked down under your skirts and nodded to you.

“all right, start pushing” torvi said. you sucked in a large gulp of air and lurched forwards.

ivar moved closer behind you, laying his hands on your waist as you pushed.

you screamed towards the end, falling back against ivar.

“it hurts!” you wailed, tears falling down your cheeks, mixing with your perspiration.

ivar seen torvi pull her hands back and notcied just how much blood poured from you.

“torvi, she can’t keep losing blood like this” ivar said over your harsh panting. the blood loss would kill you before you’d even be able to hold your child.

torvi looked so lost and scared, she had two options, allow you to keep trying to push and do it yourself, or cut the baby out of you and risk your life even more so.

you pushed once again, but screamed and gasped as blood poured out from under you.

torvi grasped her knife, going in to cut at your tummy, until you stopped her.

“d-don’t, it c-could harm the baby. i can do this” you whimpered, making her back the knife away.

ivar looked from the blood, to torvi, unsure of what to do, he couldn’t force you no matter how hard he tried. he rubbed at your shoulders, feeling a tear escape his eye.

“push” torvi shakily commanded, you followed in suit, releasing another blood curdling scream.

torvi looked under your skirts and nodded.

“it is coming. i see the head. you have to push harder, (y/n)”.

@cbouvier23 @siren-queen03en03 @venusloviing@aaqilahtequilahttp://ubbesgirl.tumblr.com/@loneranger-blog @starfox-92@jasonmccannsgirl8699@dobchenski @atequila @applesaucers @sea-phoam-goddess @perseny-blog

#ivars heathen army #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader x hvitserk #ivar x reader #hvitserk x reader #vikings #imagine #vikings imagine

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vb-fantrolls-et-all · 8 years ago

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Tovani: Greet the last customer ==>

Tovani: The evening sky is in it's last hours of darkness, and the side street of the East Alternia district was quiet. Most trolls were already hive, or heading that way. The dawning hours never filled Tovani with the kind of fear though. She had always chalked it up to a subtle side effect of her caste. Somnel was out, since the shop was near closing hours, and Tovani was just taking the time to sterilize tools, even though the lights were on and the door unlocked to passers by. Quick tempo dance music was playing, and the bird troll shuffled her feet and swung her hips in time, dancing for an audience of no one as she worked.

???: Footsteps echoed through the empty streets as Nemiri made his way towards Tovani's ink shop. He thumbed the small camera stowed away in the pocket of his loose jacket. He was back in the saddle, and ready to shake things up again. A small grin stretched his face as he thought of the repercussions that wouldn't come. He was un-fucking-touchable now. And if Glates wants a show, he was gonna give it to her. Nemiri stepped up to the door and got into character, timidly opening the entrance to her shop. "Hello? Sorry, are you open right now?"

Tovani: She stopped in place, turning to face the new voice. A new customer? Well, it was still dark out. "Hellohello! Yeah, I'm open. Come on in!" She chirped happily, setting the steel tools of her trade on the sterile towel to air dry from the disinfectants. "Though depending on what work you want done, there might not be enough time for much past a consultation. What are you in for?" She crossed the distance and stood behind the reception counter, extending a hand to him. "Name's Tovani. Nice to meet you."

???: He let out a sigh of relief and entered the shop, letting the door shut behind him. "Thank you so much, I've been looking all over for this place. You must be the great Tovani Paccai I've heard so much about! It's so great to finally meet you. I live a few towns to the south, and a few friends of mine got their ink here. You're basically a legend over there! So, I figured, why not get some body mods of my own done here? Though, I admit, i'm not too familiar with the process."

Tovani: She smiled warmly, graciously nodding affirmation to the praise. "Well, I wouldn't put "The Great" in front of my name, but I have had a good share of happy and repeat customers, so that speaks to itself, I suppose." She pulled out a notebook and a few sketch pencils from the front desks' center drawer. "If you are wanting a tattoo, then we'll probably have to set a follow on appointment, especially if you want me to craft custom ink for you. If you want piercings, that we should still be able to do tonight." She slide the pencils in hemospectrum order, left to right high to low, so the rust pencil was against her pinky. "What did you have in mind?"

???: "Well..." He started, a small frown breaking his previously-held demeanor. "I'm looking to get a portrait on my back. A dear friend of mine passed away recently, and i'd like to sort of...pay tribute to him. He meant a lot to me. That being said, would it at all be possible to use my own blood for the ink? I think that's probably the best way to remember him, right? I don't know, i'm still sort of on the fence about this whole thing..."

Tovani: "Oh, of. of course." She stammered, a bit of genuine guilt from dampening his mood. She reached over to an binder, flipping open about two-thirds of the way in, art of trolls and lusii in photographs now displayed. It was her art, her portfolio, to show her capability for that style. "We can definitely talk through a concept. And... as much as I love doing what I do, if you aren't sold on it, don't make a rash decision. This is permanent." She took up a black pencil, and leaned on her elbows. "What..." She paused, looking up at him. "I am sorry, I never got your name. That was rude of me."

???: "Oh gosh, where are my manners? I'm Mirien, though just Miri is fine." He said, looking down into the binder. "Wow! These are...really really good. Do you think if I gave you a picture you could do a quick sketch of him for me? I don't know how well his image is gonna transfer to paper. Or skin, for that matter."

Tovani: "Miri." She repeated, scrawling his name on the top edge of the paper. She responded to the compliment first, then continued. "Thank you. Once we get the concept ironed, out, I'll take a look at where you want it on you and make sure it's a good fit. It's my job to make it transfer to skin, don't worry."

???: "Oh, I have no doubt. I know i'm in very good hands." He slid his hand into his back pocket as he spoke, digging his wallet out and flipping it open. He looked through it for a few moments before pulling a folded up polaroid out of the transparent slot where his ID would be. "This is him. Please forgive the state of the photograph, this was taken a long, long time ago." He said, setting the photo down onto the counter face-down. The photo, when turned over, would be a picture of Nemiri's original form, before he was killed the first time.

Tovani: She put the black pencil down and lifted the olive one, reaching for the photo with her other hand. "No worries." Tovani flipped the photo over... and almost dropped the pencil. she managed to catch it before it hit the counter. "Were you wanting his face as the focus, or a full to shoulders bust?" It was a testament to her professionalism that she didn't flinch... much.

???: Miri was watching for a reaction, and he suppressed a grin when he got one. He tilted his head, frowning slightly. "Is there a problem, Tovi? I know, I know, he's very handsome, but you look like you...saw a ghost." He said, a small smile replacing his frown as he placed his hands on the counter. He laughed softly, leaning ever-so-slightly forward, his grin stretching his face as it widened. He stopped laughing and took a deep breath, leveling his gaze into Tovani's. "You have."

Tovani: She blinked twice at being called Tovi. Strangers and customers don't usually move to nicknames that quick... if ever. "I don't mean any..." The jadelood started to apologize, but the sound froze in her throat. Meeting his eyes, confusion mixed with the palpable 'something isn't right' icy prickles of fear. "Ok.. I guess." She back pedaled cautiously, moving towards the side wall, where she kept her revolver in a drawer under her work station.

???: "Good GOD, they do not keep you around because of your brains, honey!" He shouted, lifting his shirt to pull his glock from the waist of his pants before quickly leveling it at her. "It's me, baby. Like the new bod'? Get back over here. Now."

Tovani: She had made it to the counter, until the glint of steel made her stop cold. "Ne-" She choked on the word, freezing in place. "How?"

???: "Because i'm in love with a freaky sci-fi chick." He said, walking around the counter and making his way towards her. "I'm fucking invincible now, Tovi. If you kill me, there's a metric fuckton of bodies I can use to come back. And it's pretty fucking apparent that it works. You had no idea. And once you're gone, I can just drop this body and get a new one. I can hide in plain fucking sight, and there's nothing you can do about it." He said with a cackle, reaching out to grip her arm. "Lock the door."

Tovani: This was too much, and quickly turning into something that smelled like a nightmare. She pulled the drawer open and brought up the revolver her matesprit had taught her how to use. For once, she didn't hesitate. Once it was at Nemiri's center mass, she pulled the trigger, staggering back at the recoil's demands. "Get the fuck out of my shop!"

???: The bullet carved it's way into Nemiri, lodging itself into his abdomen. He let out a roar of pain as he fell, firing a shot into the ceiling when his body made contact with the floor. "Fuck you!" He screamed at her as he leveled his sights at her chest, pulling the trigger over and over, intending to empty the entire magazine into the Jadeblood.

Tovani: Tovani let out a shocked shrill scream as his shot lodging into the ceiling. Shock wouldn't let her legs work right. She wanted to turn and run. She had panic buttons and hidden escape routes just in in case things went bad. Why did they all see so far away? There was a burst of pain and a blossom of heat as the first shot sank into her flesh, leading the way for the rest of it's brothers as round after round tore jade holes through her chest. Her weapon clattered inert and heavy to the tile floor, and Tovani followed shortly after, crumpling into a pile. She gasped impotently, like a fish on the cutting board.

???: After a short while, the shots turned into clicks, a sound that was very soft in comparison to the volley of gunshots. Nemiri threw his gun to the floor beside him, cursing aloud to himself. He scrambled to his feet, nursing the bullet wound in his gut. "Fuck...Fuckin'...Shit..." He struggled to catch his breath as he made his way over to Tovani. He knelt down next to her and watched her grip onto life. "You know...I always kinda liked you...you had spunk, girl. I remember when you couldn't even hold a gun without looking like you were about to shit your pants, but look at you now! You tagged me good." He reached over to pick up her revolver, now stained with jade, and now olive, blood. "You chose the wrong side. You know that, right? Ah, who am I kiddin', you're in shock. I don't even know if you can hear me. Well, it's over now." He said, pressing the barrel of her own revolver against her forehead. "Thanks for playin'."

Those would be the last thing to cross through Tovani's mind before the bullet did, a fresh coat of jade splattering the floor under her. He placed the revolver on her chest, and lifted his hand to close her eyelids, leaving an olive streak down the front of her face. He stood, retrieving his own weapon, releasing the slide before replacing it in his waistband. He was trailing his own blood around the parlor as he searched around for a spot for the camera. Finally finding a decent hiding spot, he followed Ancill's instructions to set it up. Once it was on, he pulled out his phone to pester Glates. He started to walk out, but stopped at Tovani's body again, crouching down again next to her head. He brushed her blood-matted hair out of her face and chuckled. "What a waste. You had a lotta talent, you coulda been someone." He paused, frowned, and pressed his finger against the tip of her nose. "Boop." He laughed again, louder this time, then stood and exited the parlor, only a trail of his blood left behind.

Tovani: [Dead.]

#tw:guns #tw:blood #tw:character death #tw:gun violence #tw:murder #Tovani things

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centtaura · 7 years ago

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Day Two (adventure novel)

"And with a swish, slash, and slice, the hero felled the villain and stood proudly above the fallen, filled with righteous vigor, the adoring eyes of the disenfranchised gazing up at him in adoration and gratitude. As the savior of the common people, he became revered, almost sainted, loved by all even when the cheers died down and life continued as normal, albeit, with much less fear of an ever-looming threat-"

"Lyz, -please-."

Lyzander's narration halted with a slight scratch at the edge of his voice. Tovi certainly noticed, and she could quite easily tell that he was hurt, with the sharp hiss that escaped instead of whatever word was supposed to follow the last. She merely stared at him, the campfire between them flickering behind her glassy eyes. He almost lost himself in their glitter. Almost.

The offense was too strong to be washed out by mere -aesthetic-.

"I was almost finished! You couldn't hold out for just one more sentence? Where is your elven patience?"

"At home, with mother. Didn't stick." Tovi waved her hand dismissively at Lyzander's frowning face. "One more sentence could last an hour, with you. Haven't you heard that run-on sentences are out of style?"

"My writing is -impeccable-. You know nothing of the broad strokes of creativity. I cannot be bound by full stops. Have you no appreciation for the charm of a ramble, like a rose with its thorny vi-"

"Please. For the love of the stars. Shut up."

"Graceless! Tell yourself a bedtime story, then, if mine is too sophisticated for you!" This time, Lyzander was the one waving his hand, but with a good measure more irritation. Tovi shrugged, and kicked her legs out, dropping to her bedroll with a very unladylike thud. To add insult to injury, he watched her fall asleep within minutes, without even rolling over. The sound he made in the back of his throat would have been venomous if anyone was awake to hear it. Aiden had passed out well over an hour ago, hardly past the exposition stage of Lyzander's tale. This didn't surprise him, though. Aiden had less of an attention span than the fish they'd cooked for supper. And Meriah? She was out like a lantern before he'd even started! His audience was the problem, he concluded, and with that, he whipped out his weathered old journal. If they didn't want to listen to him, fine. He'd write it all down for someone who -would-.

His fingertips smudged the letters as they pushed against the pages, the piece of charcoal he'd been using to write having been worn down to almost nothing. He'd have to barter for a new one in the next town they were able to visit. Maybe he could snag two, even, if he had enough courage to sneak some of the party's spoils for himself...without Tovi noticing? Maybe not. He'd settle for one.

Soon, the fire would die out, and Lyzander would be left to scrawl his prose by the light of the moon alone.

Tovi opened her eyes to a glaring sun and chapped lips, her throat dry from sleep, and her eyes dark with grogginess. Aiden, despite being almost nothing like his sister in every other respect, woke up at the same time, almost like they shared an internal clock as far as starting the day was concerned. Meriah appeared to have been stirred earlier, and was already chewing absently on some jerky for breakfast. The trio nodded their greetings to one another, and silently began to pack their things for the day's travel.

Partway through their wordless gathering, Tovi perked up with the sudden realization that it was -never- this quiet.

"Where's the Dreamweaver?"

Her brother and the mer-girl shrugged. "'S gone when I woke up," said Meriah. "His stuff's gone. Guess he wandered off again." Tovi grunted. -Again- was a word, alright. She supposed she'd insulted him badly enough that he'd decided to travel ahead and meet them in the next town, as he often did when he became restless or otherwise provoked. By the time they'd get to civilization again, he'd have cooled off. He'd probably be on a crate in front of some poor unwitting fool's shop, narrating his stories for all to hear, whether they liked it or not.

-Of course they'd like it-, a voice filtered through her morning haze, and she accepted that. He was a charming man, all told, no matter -what- she thought personally, even if she -was- right. He just always captivated the hearts and attention of those around him, naturally, and all the grouchiness in the world couldn't bring him down; she'd learned -that- the hard way.

So the three of them simply accepted that they'd meet with their fourth on the road somewhere, and without too much lollygagging, set out on another leg of their journey.

Not too far along the road - more of a well-traveled path in the dirt than anything - they were stopped by...an obstacle, if one could call it that. Surely, they could just step to the side and walk around it, avoiding conflict entirely, as they so often did with such trivial inconveniences. There was nothing to be gained from this thing. And yet, Tovi found herself drawing her weapons. With a glance to either side of her, she saw Aiden and Meriah doing the same. Were they to fight for nothing more than the glory of it? That -was- something Aiden would do if he didn't have such focused minds alongside him, but he'd have been outvoted...

Meriah drew her arm back, knocking an arrow. Her breath slowed to a glacial pace, and time froze as she released the taut string - then -whoosh! - the arrow pierced through the air with a whistle, and straight through the giant, sentient heap of slime that blocked their path.

This acted as the call to arms that sent Tovi and Aiden rushing forth, their blades slicing through the air and indeed through the viscous material that comprised their foe. Tovi's sickles flashed with a flurry of attacks, cutting through the slime so quickly, it hardly had time to recompose itself; Aiden's gladius came down upon the creature with such power and purpose that the smaller chunks splattered and melted into the dirt on contact with his blade. The trio made quick work of the monster, as was expected of such an experienced band of heroes, even without their magician by their side.

As they watched the pathetic creature disintegrate into the soil, they exchanged confused glances.

"Was that...entirely necessary?" Tovi ventured, and was met with shrugs. Meriah said nothing, but Aiden let out a short chuckle.

"Maybe not, but it was fun!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Finally, you two join me in my thirst for adventure!"

Meriah frowned. "Since when d'you talk like that?" Tovi's eyebrow raised sharply, thinking the same thing but with much more callousness. "You think you're some kinda storybook hero, now?

Aiden just grinned and bounced onward, while Tovi and Meriah slogged through the sticky dirt, grimacing at the way their shoes pulled with every step. Pointless. Monsters don't leave behind treasure, not like those drunk adventurers in the taverns boasted about in their exaggerated retellings of their experiences. And a slime, at that! It didn't even leave behind a hide, or teeth, or bones, or -anything- at all, much less anything useful!

The team trekked ever onward, barely speaking to one another, besides Aiden's constant rambling about gods know what, and which the women would never know since they refused to actually listen to the words that spewed so carelessly from his mouth. After several hours, they decided to rest - Aiden walked too fast, and Meriah was -starving-, and Tovi was just about ready to call it a day just to fast forward the weirdness away. Something felt so awkward, so unnatural about today.

Lost in thought, Tovi almost didn't even notice the shadows growing long over their day camp.

It was merely midday - the shadows shouldn't be covering the plains in such extremes, especially with so little in the way of trees or structures or even rocks to cast them. While Aiden hummed a tune idly, and Meriah gnawed on a piece of chewy, stale bread, Tovi bothered to look up.

"Is that a fucking dragon."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. The others looked up out of habit - if Tovi saw something, it was probably worth taking a peek. Sure enough, something dark and scaly and certainly quite ominous soared effortlessly overhead.

"That's...a fucking dragon," Meriah agreed. Aiden's face lit up like the sun glinting off of a fresh snowfall, all childlike wonder and youthful exuberance, having never had the opportunity to meet a dragon face-to-snout. Would it notice them and come swooping down for a battle? Aiden sure hoped so.

The women were not so excited. Meriah steeled herself, preparing her bow for a fight, and Tovi grit her teeth - could this day get any weirder? Wait, scratch that. Don't ever ask that. The gods took pleasure in the challenge.

Much to Aiden's delight, the dragon indeed took a sharp turn in the air, its glowing eyes trained quite acutely on its targets, three weathered adventurers bracing themselves for glorious battle. It took a dive, straight at them, and the air suddenly felt hot, and wavy, and -weird-, and Tovi knew exactly what was coming.

"Get down!" she cried out, yanking both of her comrades to the ground with her, covering her own head while hoping the others would follow suit. She couldn't tell, but once the roar of flames passed, and the only sound left was the ringing in her ears and the distant thunder of massive wings cutting through the air, she peered up, and saw both of her partners doing the same. Aiden's face was split by a gleaming smile, and he really did look the part of storybook hero, though she'd never, ever say so out loud. Meriah looked...bothered. She was not a fan of heat, as it were. Dried out her scales. She was only half-focused on the adversary at hand, the rest of her mind placed squarely in the marketplace of some future town, wondering if she could afford some decent lotions for her skin.

“We should just...run…” Tovi suggested, and Meriah nodded, though Aiden pouted.

“When will we ever get to fight a dragon again?”

“Hopefully never, if we’re lucky.”

“What kind of adventurer are you, anyway? How do you never have the desire to seek the thrill?”

Again, Tovi and Meriah both raised their brows at Aiden, speaking like a novel’s protagonist out of nowhere. If anything was weirdest about this day, this would be it. Dragons Tovi could understand. They were out in the middle of nowhere, it was bound to happen -someday-, and slimes? Well, maybe something came over her. It wasn’t unheard of. But hearing Aiden employ such diction was just unnatural.

They didn’t have much time to ponder Aiden’s sudden eloquence, though, with an entire dragon swooping back down through the air to redouble its efforts to cook them.

Without their magician, they had no way to magically bar the flames, but they had other tricks up their figurative sleeves. Aiden’s shield was enough to cover himself, and Tovi was quick enough on her feet to outdance the fire. Meriah simply flattened herself to the ground, mumbling into the dirt as if it would envelop her if she whispered sweetly enough to it.

As the dragon shot low past them, Aiden took a chance and threw all caution - and himself - to the wind, thrusting his sword upward without really looking, simply banking on luck and good timing to drive his blade forth. Tovi, taking notice of her brother’s movements, slipped backward and rolled under the fiery spray, using the split-second opportunity of distraction to rapidly slice at the dragon’s neck, expertly landing each cut in a criss-cross pattern along the tender flesh of its underside. Her blades were sharp enough to delay the rush of blood that flowed out from the wounds, allowing her to avoid the splash.

With their mark’s throat cut raw, and a deep stab through its chest, the trio had one last shot at felling the monstrous creature. As it stumbled and tripped, gurgling in an attempt to roar, Meriah pulled herself up to her knees and knocked an arrow, letting it fly without wasting any time with precision, instead allowing hope to take wing, and guided by faith alone, its aim was true. Piercing the dragon’s eye, half-blinding it, Meriah’s arrow brought the goliath to the ground once and for all.

Finishing the dragon was easy work, with it writhing in the dirt, unable to focus on the heroes that conquered it. Soon, with well-struck blows in all the vital places, the dragon fell silent and peaceful with its last gasp, a sigh of release, carried by the wind to the sky.

The heroes stood proudly over their trophy, unable to move it from its final resting place, but admiring the work they’d done to slay such a noble, yet terrifying beast. Tovi immediately set to work removing some of the most valuable bits - teeth, scales, some wing leather, talons...she butchered the animal quite cleanly, having done such work so often before. Meriah disappeared somewhere within the dragon’s coiled corpse, likely to grab a snack from the tenderest of flesh available to her. And Aiden - well, Aiden smiled brightly and cheered for them, as there were no adoring masses to do it. Surely, he would spend the nights penning a song to memorialize the feat, which would be sung in taverns across the lands…

Tovi opened her eyes to a rising sun and dew in her hair, her nose cold in the morning air, and her eyes dark with sleep. She was, as usual, the first awake, not including Lyzander, who never slept to begin with. Aiden snored lightly, and Meriah could pass for dead if one simply skimmed over her.

“What are you grinning about, Dreamweaver?” she demanded, already testy so soon after waking up. Lyzander closed his book, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh, nothing. Just finishing up another chapter in my novel, you see.” He looked her dead in the eyes, and without blinking, landed the killing blow:

“How did you like it, dragon-slayer?”

#centext

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