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karrhisarchonrising:

As he sprinted through the halls, the only thing on his mind was finding a medic, and getting help for his remaining children. But he was weak. Three short weeks in a cell had left him shockingly ill-feeling. Mixed with the grief he felt as he couldn’t help but mourn his three sons. It was hard to breathe past the inner agony, but he pushed onward, driven to save his daughter and son.

On the way, there had been a handful of stragglers that trailed behind their former archon. One captain, a couple vandals and four dregs, one of which was missing part of her left leg, but still she followed. The small and tired group weren’t too far behind when Karrhis was stopped, and his eyes met with the Kell’s, wide and almost frightened. Almost as if running into him was just as bad as running into a guardian.

He noticed that Kiltriks was alone, now. Karrhis briefly wondered where his guard was, but in all the chaos, he wouldn’t be shocked if Kiltriks left them behind. He gasped quietly for breath, feeling exhausted physically and emotionally. But even so, a new feeling rose into his chest: Rage. He didn’t realize his own teeth were beared until a hiss left him. He pulled away from the Kell, turning his body so that the whelps were out of his view and his eyes -though still riddled with tears- were narrowed dangerously.

He growled, although keeping his voice low so that even Kiltriks had to have strained to hear it. He didn’t have time to get emotional. Kritris’ and Brixas’ lives depended on him finding someone who could help. And judging from the dampness that seeped through the cloth around them, he would need it soon. “Get out of my way, I need to find a medic.”

His eyes on the whelps had distracted him only for a moment, noting that Karrhis didn't look like he was carrying all five of them -- the bundles were too few and too small. However, his thoughts didn't linger on that, hearing the hiss that came from his former mate as Karrhis moved away from him.

In that short second, even Kiltriks was shocked. Karrhis had always had a shred of defiance in him, defiance few others could get away with, but his time to be cute was over. Quickly, Kiltriks' face grew grim and serious once again and he grabbed hold of Karrhis with a threatening grip.

"This isn't time for you to be a stubborn, stupid dreg." Kiltriks hissed himself. The sounds of commotion began to rise suddenly, close by and in the direction that Kiltriks had come from (and the direction Karrhis had been trying to go). Gaze snapped back, and in that small second, a shred of panic could be seen on the face of the mighty Devil's kell.

"Going that way is suicide. The medics are dead or hiding." Kiltriks said, beginning to move past Karrhis, but his grip didn't leave him, tugging the other large eliksni in the same direction as him. “Come.” He knew in that moment that saving Karrhis was stupid and unnecessary -- after all, his ex-mate had betrayed him -- but yet he still found himself trying to bring him along anyway.

#karrhisarchonrising

karrhisarchonrising:

@kellofdevils

Three weeks. He only knew because the guard would not let him forget how many days. Each day was agony, with the weight of what he did weighing down on him more and more. His whelps wouldn’t know where he went, or what happened to him. Kiltriks could have told them he was dead for all he knew.

But worst of all, it was quiet. So damn quiet and it gave him time to think and thinking let to regretting. He didn’t see Kiltriks since his arms were docked. There was no word about his whelps, if they were safe from the impending attack.

He prayed it was just rumor, but he realized his prayers were unanswered when he heard it-the faint sounds of distant gunfire and screaming. Alarms began to blare through the halls and Karrhis, for the first time in a while, seemed like the life was restored to him.

With the alarms going off, the guard had given pause. Unfortunate for him, he happened to pause just outside the cell. Karrhis didn’t even think twice about reaching through and grabbing the smaller man and yanking him toward the bars with a hiss.

“Open the Cell.” He ordered, his tone leaving no room for arguing. “Now.”

Then he watched the man reach for the keys, looking hesitant as the battle raged on in the distance. Echoing screams. Gunfire.

“You have loved ones?” Karrhis suddenly asked, making the guard’s eyes widen. “Release me, so we can help ensure their safety.”

That seemed to get through to him, and seconds later, the doors of his cell slid open. A taste of freedom again. The guard was already fleeing, no doubt hoping that Kiltriks wouldn’t notice in all the chaos.

Karrhis wasn’t too far behind, taking off to the nursery first. Unaware that it was already under siege. Unaware that he would be too late. The smoke and smell of blood was strong when he arrived, finally. And it seemed that most of the battle had moved on judging by the corpses that lay scattered across the floor. The sight made his heart freeze and his blood run cold. His eyes searched the hall, blood pounding. He stepped over them as carefully as he could and made his way into the nursery itself. Was it the first thing to be hit? Where were his children?

He paused, hearing a sound. Crying. He knew the sound from days of hearing it before.

“Brixas?” He kept his voice low, listening for his son, and the whimpering grew louder.

“P..Papa…” The call was soft, but he pinned it to some fallen rubble and approached, quickly tossing it away and uncovering a horrid sight.

It was Brixas, and next to him was Kirtris. She wasn’t moving, but it seemed she was still breathing. They were bloodied up, bruised, cut and scared it seemed.

“Primes… It’s okay. I’m here.” Was all that was said as he scooped the two into his arms. He pressed his mouth to their heads and looked around through the smoke again. “Where are your brothers..?”

He trailed off when Brixas began crying again, clutching to his shirt. He was confused for a moment, but not shocked that his son was so frightened, and hurt. Karrhis made out a single bullet wound in the boy’s side and he was suddenly filled with worry.

Then his eyes landed on a dreadful sight. Three bodies, laying nearby each other and unmoving, filled with bullets. His other three boys, one half-covered in rubble, all of them in pools of blood and silent. He felt tears already stinging his eyes when he realized the truth. Three of his whelps were dead.

A sob from his son broke his thoughts and he suddenly realized that he still had two left to save. He clutched them close to him, and then scooped up a cloak from a nearby dead vandal. He used it to wrap around his children, hoping that they would hold on.

Then he was off, searching for any sign of where the others had fled to, and praying he didn’t run into any guardians on the way.

Even with planning, even knowing that this was probably going to happen -- they weren't prepared. It always seemed to be that way when the Guardians attacked with their light powers.

Kiltriks watched as his men began to fall around him, and he fought, too. Bullets pelted his armor, a couple lodging their way into his enormous body -- but the Kell fought on for as long as he could. He'd managed to kill one of the Guardians of the team, crushing their Ghost in his bare hands out of fury, but it only seemed to make the others angry.

He had no choice but to flee, ordering the remaining men to cover him. Sacrificing them. Kiltriks knew as he left the fight behind that he was being a coward -- but he was selfish. The Kell would rather live to rule the rubble of Devils than die at the hands of those small, stupid light-bearing creatures!

He weaved through the halls of the ketch, his mind racing. Avoiding the areas where the fight remained. Devils would live on as long as he survived, he told himself. He had to survive!

And then, he turned a corner, and he saw him. Karrhis. Instantly, Kiltriks came to a stop, eyes widening at first and then quickly narrowing in anger. While not nearly as battered as their children, he was still quite a sight. Bloody from both himself, his men, and the guardian he'd killed, breathing in heavy huffs from the pain and the adrenaline.

He lunged forward, grabbing Karrhis by his cloak and yanking him forward. "What are you doing out?!” He hissed, but his eyes quickly moved down, noticing the small bundles his former mate carried. Then, he realized.

He hadn't even thought about the children.

#karrhisarchonrising

karrhisarchonrising

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kellofdevils

#nsfw //#karrhisarchonrising

I JUST STUBBED MY TOE AND DIDN'T CRY, I'M READY TO TAKE YOU DOWN. FITE ME

“Yeah? Do you think you’d cry when I took off the whole foot?”

#Anonymous

karrhisarchonrising

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kellofdevils

#karrhisarchonrising #nsfw //

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bruce-bayne

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Song Of The Week: Emperor’s New Clothes | Panic! At The Disco

If it feels good, tastes good It must be mine

#(a)#[ this cliche ass song is still kiltriks' ]

karrhisarchonrising

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#karrhisarchonrising #nsfw //

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#karrhisarchonrising #nsfw //

karrhisarchonrising

For some reason, when Kiltriks confirmed that he was indeed ready, Karrhis felt that surge of excitement rush through his chest. His heart was racing even before the Kell pushed him back toward the wall and his breath hitched when he was pinned to it. A good reminder to everyone that he belonged to Kiltriks made sense. And the thought of being marked again sent chills down his spine.

“I think we should remind them, then.” Came the response as he stared the Kell in the eyes.

In that moment, Karrhis shifted his body, letting his hips grind against the larger male’s before bringing one of his legs up and around the Kell’s backside, using that movement to pull his mate that much closer and the only thing between them was their clothing and armor. He almost desperately wanted it gone, craving the contact of their skin. The desire left him gasping just a little and a low whine came from him. An instant later, he leaned forward, pressing his mouth to his mate’s and kissing him deeply.

kellofdevils

#karrhisarchonrising #nsfw //#[ dusts off thread and whistles ]

Kiltriks chuckled, "You mean the chaos emeralds?"

#not serious #delete later probably

filthycraftything

The pain throbbing throughout her entire body all blends together into a strong ache that resonates from her head to the tip of every finger and every toe. It feels as if her own bones themselves protest against every movement, her limbs shaky from lack of sustinance; the only thing driving her right now is adrenaline. Pure, sweet adrenaline that only heightens as his blood crawls down her throat. So powerful that even the pain of the hard strike can go ignored– at least for a few moments. A few moments is good enough. Long enough to hurt him– really hurt him.

The seconds he spends beating his fist against the side of her head pass so quickly, she doesn’t even remember it or too much else about their first encounter by the time she wakes up.

A day and a half later, her eyelids twitch. Her body shifts, though just barely, fingers curling. Her mouth feels dry, her throat stings with every breath and she groans at the horrible ache in her head. The floor is cold against body; the fatigue is so strong it feels like heavy weights were placed upon every limb of her body, even lifting her head feels like a strenuous task. With a soft growl, the Kell picks herself up, every hand placed flat upon the ground, weary muscles straining as she pushes herself upwards, bringing herself into a cross-legged sit. Her shoulders roll, head lolling back and spine arching until she hears a satisfying pop.

She realizes her situation before she remembers what had happened prior. Prisoner, clearly, judging by the dirty, cold cell and the bars. She feels… Angry. Angry, more so at herself. But as high as her anger spikes, she closes her eyes, inhaling through her notrils and exhaling through her mouth. Slow, steady breaths until her glower simmers down into an emotionless stare. A reaction is what they’ll want, after all. Boil it all down into apathy and keep the rage within.

As she calms herself, the memories come back to her, mostly fuzzy and missing. Fought with another Kell. And lost. That’s really all there is she has to think about, she thinks, as she glances at the Devils insignia on the wall across from her.

She isn’t sure, really, how much time passes until Kiltriks pays her a visit at least. She only stirs from her near meditive stance once she hears his heavy steps, opening her eyes half-lidded, flicking up at his face… then down to his hand.

Perhaps if she were anybody else, she’d cower. Instead, she laughs.

"Your hand…“ Laksiris nods her head just barely, a sardonic grin of sorts tugging at the corners of her mouth. Ah. So many bandages. "Holding up, I see.”

kellofdevils

It had been quite an adventure, getting the large eliksni to the Devil's lair and into his prison. More of a struggle than he'd like to admit, even with the help of a skiff he'd called to bring her back. But once the prison door was sealed, and her form was behind bars, he'd felt nothing but satisfaction.

Since then, he'd come down to see if she'd awoken multiple times, but until now, she hadn't been. Now, as he turns the corner to check on her once more, he's almost startled when he sees that she is awake finally, sitting up. Her eyes were dim, but still visible as she looks at him, but her eyes quickly move down.

When she laughs, he feels a rush of rage towards her. He tries to clench his fist, but his bandages make it impossible. The medics had insisted the excess bandaging was necessary, despite his irritation. The damage had been bad, and it was obvious just by looking at it. He could almost feel her satisfaction as she looked at it.

But no. He tries to force himself to relax, then. Kiltriks reminds himself that despite her laugh, Laksiris is still his prisoner now. He was in control, and it was going to stay that way for a long while, if he had any say in it.

He moves forward, then, speaking for the first time. "Better than you are, and much better than you will be."

Kiltriks inhales, exhales, makes sure that it's obvious to her as he breathes the ether from his mask. "I bet you're starving." He says, alluding to the lack of ether. "It probably doesn't help that headache, I'm sure you have one, of course.'

#filthycraftything

theynameusfallen-a

There’s an unseen satisfied smile that is followed by a soft growl of that same satisfaction when Kiltriks does exactly what he wanted him to do. Slowly, but still given. But there is no other form that he expresses his pleasure in, instead leaving the true extent to himself.

That is when Riksis steps away, moving to the various containers of ether. None of it is really enough to make Kiltriks grow. He’ll need more than just emergency sups taken from the seeds. He narrows his eyes in thought as he looks through his things in silence, searching for what is left of the supply he kept for Solkis.

He continues to say nothing when he finds it, distracted now by the quick check of its contents before rising to his feet again and taking away the amount of sups which he estimated he would need to make up for what was last used of the supply.

“I don’t recommend you try to take it all at once.” Riksis says, gesturing for Kiltriks to come over. “Trying to grow too quickly will result nausea or other serious side effects that could cause permanent damage to your tissue, weak bones and weak muscles, among other things. It’s important for you to work into the amount a Kell needs.” He turns to face his new Kell, holding out a rusted, fairly large container to him in his secondary hands. “This is a weeks supply. Take the average amount of ether for your size and then one sup extra in the first three days of the week, then two extra after.”

Riksis gestures towards the rest of the supply with a primary, “You will come back next week. And when you do I will check your progress and give you more. This will result in physical contact that could be considered uncomfortable, so I ask permission to the examination of your form to ensure you are growing correctly and at a healthy rate so I can manage the supply with ease.”

kellofdevils

There's a heaviness in Kiltriks' chest for the long few seconds he has to wait after his words are spoken. There was always a chance that despite Riksis' words, the Archon might reject his request. And... well, honestly, Kiltriks isn't sure what he'd do if that turns out to be the case. Getting on the bad site, or worse, in a fight with the Archon... that wouldn't be a good start to his reign at all.

Luckily, though, Riksis starts to move soon and begin to look through things. The new Kell's eyes followed carefully, greed filling his gaze when Riksis finally retrieves the correct sups for him. He approaches, sizing up the amount. It was a significant amount, even for only a week's supply. He reached out and took the container when it was offered to him, and once it was in his clutches, he spoke.

"Understood." He says, trying to gather all of the information. Of course, the thought of an examination was... unfavorable. The idea of being poked and prodded or whatever Riksis had in mind. And yet, it probably wasn't much different than the sorts of examinations that soldiers had to go through with medics, throughout their lives.

The only difference was that he was the Kell now, and if it was the only way to gain his full size, he would suck it up.

"I give you permission." He says then, lowering the container but clutching it tightly in his primary hands, as if for dear life. "I will come the same time, a week from now."

He stands there, quietly, for a few seconds before he speaks again. "Your generosity is taken note of." He tells Riksis. Not only did the Archon help him, but he seemed very keen on making sure it went as planned, and Kiltriks grew. Perhaps he did have loyalty in this one yet. Then, nodding his head -- it's almost hard not to bow to Riksis' large form, but he resists -- he begins to back away. "Have a good evening, Archon Riksis."

#theynameusfallen

sevoriks-blog

Velxas patiently waited for what Kiltriks had to say next, knowing that he didn’t really need any kind of reward to do the Kell a favor. It wasn’t a secret that he was deeply fond of Kiltriks, and apparently it was obvious to the Kell as well. Asking if he’d like to be one of his mates, Velxas’ mouth opened slightly in surprise. Being his mate, well, he couldn’t think of any reward better than that. To say it hadn’t been a dream of his would be a complete lie. “It would be the biggest honor.” He said, words barely making it out, almost unable to believe what he had heard. Gathering more strength to continue speaking was difficult. “I refuse to let you down, Kiltriks. Scars will fall to Devils.”

kellofdevils

Hearing the reaction he recieved, Kiltriks let a deep, satisfied sound roll from his throat. He was content in Velxas at that moment, the perfect little pawn for what he had planned. "When Scars falls, then you will get your full reward." He told the smaller eliksni.

Of course, whether or not that promise would be kept... he wasn't entirely sure. He had many mates, and it wouldn't technically hurt to take another if he had to. But as much as he appreciated Velxas' loyalty, he had never been attracted to him.

Oh well. He wasn't even sure if Velxas would survive long enough for that point. He may be one of Kiltriks' most loyal, but this mission was very long term, and he could deal with his promises when they came. He had no problem doing whatever it took to keep Velxas interested over time, either.

"You will take a skiff that I have picked out, in the back northeast corner of our loading bay. If anyone asks what you're doing, tell them you are scouting alone. No more details." Kiltriks grew serious all of a sudden, speaking to him about the terms of his mission now that it had been accepted.

"You will take the skiff to the assigned coordinates and allow yourself to be captured. In a few months, assuming you survive, I will find a way to contact you." He let the words sink in then. "Do you understand?"

#sevoriks

houseofblades

THE KELL SQUAD

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@kellofdevils

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kellofdevils

[ kiltriks tries to push sevoriks ] "No wait you're not supposed to like it--"

sevoriks-blog

Velxas nodded without hesitation. “Of course. They could never break my loyalty. Those that were swayed were… weak.” He’d known some of the soldiers that switched sides, even those he would have considered friends. They meant nothing to him now, and he was not looking forward to having to interact with traitorous scum. “I will always remain loyal to you, Kiltriks. You and this House. I’ve lived a Devil and I will die a Devil.” There wasn’t anything for him in Scars. Honestly he wasn’t even sure how Sevoriks kept the House together. He had always seemed to go too easy on his followers.

The Captain’s attention spiked when Kiltriks mentioned the reward. He would have done it for nothing in return at all. “That is certainly generous of you, my Kell.” His gaze flicked up to meet Kiltriks’. “I’m interested.”

kellofdevils

While deep down, Kiltriks knew that he could probably send Velxas away without any reward. However, this wasn't just any mission. Having something to look forward to would keep the Captain grounded, the Kell hoped. He wouldn't dare let his mind be tainted by the Scars' ways if there was a possibility of reward at the end, especially...

He shifted just barely. Kiltriks wasn't one to be nervous, even as he spoke. "I have reasons to believe that you're quite fond of me." He said, a glitter of cockiness in his eyes. "Am I wrong?" But of course, considering he was pretty sure he wasn't, he continued before even getting an answer. "Would you like to be one of my mates, Velxas?"

#sevoriks

sevoriks-blog

Velxas wasn’t one bit surprised when the next words that came out of Kiltriks’ mouth were about Scars. They had been a thorn in Devils’ side ever since Sevoriks had emerged alive and well, and they just couldn’t ever seem to get rid of them as much as they tried. It was only because they were cowards, Velxas was sure of that, always running and hiding instead of fighting. That stupid, unbearable House.

And yet he still felt his heart sink when Kiltriks explained the rest of the plan, wanting him to join Scars. Devils were where he belonged. This was his home.

But–

He could not let the Kell down. Kiltriks could order him to do anything, and he would do it. The House was the priority. He was nothing more than a tool for Kiltriks to use at his discretion. “A spy inside of Scars.” He nodded. The Kell was right, it would be difficult, but not impossible. “You don’t even have to ask, sir. I would most definitely satisfy your request.” Velxas pressed his teeth together for a long second, dreading the thought of being among Scars, mingling with those that betrayed Devils to join them.

kellofdevils

Kiltriks felt like he caught the tiny flicker of disappointment, but perhaps he was just imagining it. It wasn't a mission that many would want to go on, probably, something so serious and long-term. Living among the enemy could take a toll on someone's mind, after all -- hearing all the words spoken against the Devils.

Which is exactly why he needed Velxas.

"They will say things that would break most Devils, do you understand? They've already swayed some of our men to their side." More, honestly, than Kiltriks ever wanted to admit. Traitors. "But you. I know you are a true Devil. You are loyal, to the House, to me."

He leaned forward again, just barely. Kiltriks' tone dropped, the hint of something almost teasing in his bright eyes as he adds in the lowered voice. "I don't intend on sending you in without reward." He told the Captain. "I will make it worth your while."

The Kell wasn't a fool. He could see the glimmer in Velxas' eyes when the smaller eliksni looked at him. He was more than willing to take advantage of someone holding desire for him.

#sevoriks

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