#celestial john

[jaeyleo]

(based of my most recent reblog)

tws: violence, blood, mentions of death, fire

———

There is hell here.

There is hell here now, with a furious Knight, trained to be wild. There is hell here, when the ground around him has burst into flames and his hands glow with that awful fire. Scarlet glowing eyes, filled with vengeance and wrath, bring hell to the monster they bore into.

There is hell here.

"Calm down, Jonathan." Anti says, from across the Denmark field. He glances to Jameson, who sits with his back pressed against the old house, bleeding and exhausted from the torture in just three days with Anti. "We don't want to make Uncle Jamie upset, do we?"

"Shut up." Johnny spits. He knows this game. He knows Anti wants him to attack. Be a wild dog. His wild dog. "I'll rip your fucking heart out for what you've done, Anti."

Anti laughs at this, his blue eyes darkening at the thought. "Oh?" he taunts, and steps closer. "You want to kill me, is that it? Like you killed that man two years ago? Like you'll kill Jameson when I take over your mind?"

Be careful, King.

Silent wind takes the fire from Jonathan's hands, rushing it into the monsters chest. It takes hold of him, burning him, making him scream and shoving his disgusting words down his throat as it crawls down his esophagus. How does it feel to taste your own medicine, King?

Black snakes of tendrils come bleeding from Anti's body, rushing toward Jonathan. They yank his wrists and hands down, forcing him to the ground, but are soon buried by the fire they forced themselves into. In a fit of agony, Anti sends them toward Jameson, wrapping around his neck and wrists and climbing into his bones to lift him up, up up into the air, silently wailing.

Be careful, King.

The Knight screams, sending the fire to devour the tendrils which torture his Uncle. Jameson falls back to the ground, and the hell which is held within the Knight, the boy, Jonathan, is set free.

He screams and his voice comes as thunder. He charges and his body has turned into fire. He runs, and his body is carried by a pair of wings, jagged and armored in a Knight's sleeping blood awoken.

His tongue spits a language he does not recognize, and Anti is on the ground, wailing like a child cries for its mother. The fire eats the monster alive, devouring his very body and soul, stinging and eating and using his bones as a vessel for the fire which needs containment.

"I'll rip you apart!!" Jonathan screams, tears rolling down his cheeks with a kiss of the sun within the drops. "I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you!!!!!"

Jonathan screams once more, and fire erupts in the grass around him. It tears the Earth's ground, and voices belonging to the sky sing and sing, to calm the Knight.

But the Knight does not listen.

Anti's blood covers the ground, and he lays half dead against the Earth. He stares up at the boy, his boy, his wild dog, and smiles. "Then kill me," he whispers in Danish.

Jonathan raises his hands, fueled with fire and hatred, ready to finish it. To kill the King, once and for all.

He sobs, and flinches as a pair of shaking hands find his shoulders. Jonathan whips his body round, finding his Uncle, on his knees reaching up from the fire, which burned his legs as he crawled through it. "Come down," he signs, and tugs on Jonathan's shirt. "Come here."

Jonathan lets out a sob, and sinks down to the ground. The fire on his hands dies out, and the fire on the ground slowly fades, ceasing to lick and lap at Jameson's body. His clothes are burnt and his body has stopped bleeding from it all.

Jameson holds his nephew, tight, tight, tight and safe. Warm, loving, gentle, he rocks him, he hushes his sobs, he rubs his back and his hair. He holds the boy, his nephew, his Jonathan, and doesn't let him go.

Anti's body lay unconscious on the ground, still and silent. Recover. Recover. He must recover, for there is hell here.

There is hell in the boy, who sobs his heart into his Uncle's arms. There is hell in the boy, who turns away the Knight's power in its moment of hunger. Kill the corruption, it says to him. But the boy does not listen.

There is hell here now, in this moment of grief. But Jameson stays, holding his nephew, hushing his nephew, saving his nephew from the guilt of blood stained forever on his hands.

There is hell here.

But heaven is coming.

[jaeyleo]

"i'll never let anyone else hurt you" with anti and johnny? 👀👀 (sorry johnny in advance askgdhjgfgj)

tws: fire, those creepy tendrils anti has

also i’m tagging @beerecordings just this once cos i feel like you might appreciate some strong boy johhny so. yeah!

aLSO i changes the quote a little i hope that’s ok!!

———

There’s a fire in him somewhere.

It burns bright and loud, raging through forest and eating the dead leaves and branches, licking at the dirt it crawls upon and screaming as its light clashes with the light of the moon and stars.

It burns thick and horrible, leaving havoc in its path. It burns, forever dangerous, seeking the corrupted blood of a fallen star the skies once called King.

Jonathan races through the trees and forest, scraping his skin against the barks as he rushes past them. His hands burn with a crimson light, and those scarlet glowing eyes cast warm shadows against his blue mask. He can feel the fire trailing behind him, and the fingertips of the smokey tendrils kiss his clothes as try to grasp at his limbs.

Horrible laughter fills the space around him and he bares his teeth, running faster. It echoes in his brain, bouncing off the walls of his mind like a rubber ball against cement.

Eventually one of the tendrils grasps his ankle, pulling hard against his leg and dragging him to the ground. His body hits the dirt with a loud thud as the air is let out of his lungs. It’s even harder to breathe now.

The tendril scrambles up his leg with spider fingers, calling more to grab his wrists and drag him down into the fire he himself created. Jonathan screams and screams, feeling the frost bitten touch of this awful magic. One comes sneaking up his stomach and chest, crawling inside his mouth and hushing him immediately. He stops thrashing, stops screaming, stops fighting, even as the flames he summoned in his wake crackle and wail as they eat the dead things around them. They do not hurt his skin when he goes through them.

He shakes as he is dragged through the woods, trying to breathe deep with the tendril lodged inside his throat. He knows that if he fights Pseudo’s magic, it will move up inside his head. Make a home. Use his veins as a space for slumber. He doesn’t want the parasite.

Once through the flames, he comes out the other side of the forest. Here Pseudo stands, with those tendrils coming out of his body like legs of a spider. Everywhere. Bending and twisting and shifting, whispering little lies and loves to the world around them.

“Haven’t I taught you not to run, Skat?” Pseudo says, as the boy is slowly brought to him. He still shakes, whimpering here and there as he feels the little tendrils move and giggle.

The one in his mouth his withdrawn, allowing John to scream in anger and pain from the freezing grips of the magic against his skin. “I fucking hate you!!” he cries. “Why are you here! What do you want from me, Anti?!!”

Antavriel smiles looking up at the forest flames. “That.” he replies. “I want that.”

Jonathan thrashes against the tendril hands, with their freakish long arms and their wrists made of twig. He summons more fire to fill his space.

Anti screams, dropping to his knees and the hands begin to shake as the fire eats them alive. He sends the tendril back to the boy’s throat, this time, letting it suffocate him. The fire stops, and Jonathan begins to trash and convulse and wail as he feels it reach all the way through his esophagus, like a million spiders inside his throat, all making a web. Just threading, threading, threading. Suffocating, sufffering. Shh.

“You’re mine, Jonathan.” Anti seethes, standing up and staring at his prey as it fights. “You’re mine! Nothing else will hurt you but me. Nothing.”

Jonathan explodes with power, screaming with a voice once trapped, bursting with flames all around him. They turn the tendrils into nothing, and begin to feast upon their attacker. Their Pseudo.

Slowly the Knight stands, watching the flames draw ebony blood. Anti screams and screams, thrashing as he is held down by a Knight’s magic. A Knight’s magic, made to defend, made to honor, made to kill the corrupted stars the skies once called King.

“You, will leave me the fuck alone.” the Knight spits. “You’ll leave my Uncles alone, you’ll leave my friends alone, you’ll leave the fucking dirt on my shoes alone.”

Jonathan sees a hole in Anti’s chest, where the fire has drawn what little light the King has left. It waits for the command to kill. To kill the King. The corruption. The parasite. The monster.

It waits, but Jonathan calls it back. Silent, the fire obeys.

“I’ll kill you, Anti. I’ll fucking kill you. Don’t you ever doubt that.”