#they dont have the lightning in they bones yet

[rima-niki]

So I wrote a Fic there was no demand for but Ajax fic

[simp4konig]

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️����💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

                                        ...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

[genopaint]

Week 42 coming right at you!! LOOK OUT!!!!!!! OH MY GOD THEY HAVE THEIR EARBUDS IN THEY CAN'T HEAR US-

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #294 - Golem Dragon

Man made dragons designed to complete particularly difficult tasks like mining or guarding treasures. Just slip a command on a piece of paper in their mouth and watch them work! They're powered by magic crystal held inside the rocks!

Daily Dragon #295 - Dragourd

These small cursed Jack-o'-lanterns are actually tiny fire breathing dragons! People will carve their pumpkins to look like them, but doing this often will attract the real deal! You dont want a crowd of them at your house.

Here's the concept art for this fella! I knew for a bit that I wanted to draw doing something where I use the mouth + eye pieces to make horns. Originally I was gonna do an ogre, but of course... Yknow... Dragons...

Daily Dragon #296 - Feral Gobold

Small and viscous creatures that love biting and scratching anything they come across. Trees and rocks near their nests are often covered in claw and teeth marks from top to bottom!

This is another redraw! Called the "Small Beast" from 2016 at the latest. It wasn't originally a dragon, and frankly idk if it was even a reptile. But it was some sort of Nidorina inspired creature because that Pokemon has one of my favorite small beast designs :)

Daily Dragon #297 - Galathia the Famished One

Galathia appears in the form of a massive dragon, the only vessel that can contain her power we can comprehend. While she's nice, the food she demands can be... drastic. A soul here, an eternity there. Maybe a whole planet?

ANOTHER redraw, this time of this old eldritch horror girl! I tried to make her a little more visually coherent, and while she's maybe a little less bizarre I think she looks a little more clean? Idk. The original is also from 2016 at the latest!

Daily Dragon #298 - Ba'ul

And here's another dragon I knew I wanted to do from the start! I was put off though for a bit because he's a little complicated and hard to find refs for. But ultimately I think he came out fantastic!! Please play Vesperia

I've also done a dragon from some of GOAT JRPG series but hadn't done one from Tales of yet. And I just couldn't let the challenge end without doing at least ONE and there's no one better than my beautiful baby boy Ba'ul

ALSO ALSO I HAVE to give the biggest shoutout to this artist who did an amazing study on Ba'ul's design. It's genuinely the best reference of him online and I could not have drawn this without making heavy use of it!

Daily Dragon #299 - A Dragon

Is something there? Can you see it? Did you lock your door? What was that by the window? Can you see it? It sees you

Just to not keep anyone in suspense, cause I dont think these things work that well with the whole transparency effect. Here he is :) what a lovely smile

I wanted to do this concept for a dragon basically all October but I couldn't make anything I liked that was actually unnerving. I still don't think this dude is that scary lmao. But yes his joints go backwards so he can walk on the ceiling and scare you

Daily Dragon #300 - Gorodin

A massive set of ancient bones that lie dormant in a valley. They become charged with cursed lightning, and start to swim in the sky. As it lets out a horrible cry sounding like a static whale call, it blows towns to cinders with powerful electricity.

And just like the last 2 times, this milestone dragon was made by combining YOUR ideas together! Thank you all so much for giving so many good suggestions on shorter notice than usual! As always I adjusted them a touch to make it all work, but thanks for your ideas regardless!!

And just like before, if I didn't use your idea, I have it written down so I can maybe do something with it later!!

BUT YEAH!! DAY 300!!! WE'RE ALREADY HERE! The end of the Daily Dragon Challenge is coming up quicker than I'm ready to admit!!

There's only 66 dragons left and as we move forward I may start planning them out a little bit. There's still a lot I want to draw, and a lot I know I won't get to in this time frame. But that's okay. It's not like I'll ever stop drawing dragons lol.

Thank you all SO much for your continued support and sticking with this whole big challenge even when I miss like, whole weeks at a time lol. Lets enjoy the rest of the year with lots of cool dragons :)

And of course, here's how it looks powered down!

[godsofhumanity]

You should make some general Thor headcanons since Marvel helped him become a popular god

okie i have some ideas.

i'll be real. marvel is what got me into norse mythology, and i find it super difficult to separate chris hemsworth's Thor from mythology Thor. so my hc's are pretty similar to that portrayal.

personality wise, i think Thor is generally a friendly guy. i mean, i dont think he makes friends as quickly as say, Freyr and Bragi, but deep down, he has a heart of gold and anyone who knows him, knows that this is true.

Thor doesn't really have any filter. he says exactly what he is thinking. he's call things as they are.

i think this makes his relationship with Loki very interesting. marvel has Loki and Thor as brothers, but in myth, that dynamic works better between Loki and Odin instead. so, my hc is that after Odin, i think Thor might interact with Loki the most largely because Loki is a *bit* scared of Thor.

Thor is superrrr strong. maybe the strongest in Asgard after Odin. his lightning is feared by everyone, as it should be. AND he has a temper to match.

with Thor, it's a short temper, but quicker placation. you can easily defuse his anger by apologising, or telling a joke, or acknowledging the situation. i don't think he holds on to troubles. so that's why with Loki, who perpetually sets everyone off, Thor tolerates Loki a lot because he just doesn't get angry for a long time. and once Loki has served his punishment for the crime of the day, Thor is satisfied... UNTIL of course Baldr's death which is simply too tragic to deserve any redemption.

now. as it has been said before, Thor isn't that smart. i think he's a bit all brawn and no brains. and that's ok. Asgard wouldn't want it any other way.

Sif is the love of Thor's life. i think he's always showering her with compliments and gifts.

i find it SUPER interesting that Sif has a son (Ullr) who is not fathered by Thor, while Thor has children Magni and Modi who are not mothered by Sif.

in all likelihood, Magni and Modi are products of extramarital affairs but i'm sick of having to write about gods and goddesses who cheat, so i hc that Magni and Modi, like Ullr, are products of previous marriages.

being warriors, and gods who are susceptible to death, it's completely possible that Thor and Sif's previous spouses/partners fell in battle... or perhaps even simply that they amicably left those partners because the relationship didn't work. idk,, i haven't thought about those details too hard just yet.

Sif has a GREAT relationship with her stepsons, and Thor has a GREAT relationship with his stepson.

i like the idea of Ullr being the eldest son. and i think he has gotten along with Thor from the start. Thor seems like a guy who wants a huge family, so having four kids i think is pretty good and natural for him.

Thor is a dad-joke kinda guy. and he also laughs at absolutely anything.

as i have mentioned before in my hc's with Frigg,, i believe Thor gets along with his stepmum very well. i think he has a lot of respect for hierarchy and power, and being a stepdad himself, i cannot imagine that he has a bone to pick with Frigg. it helps that Thor's own mother Jörð is treated well by Frigg and looked after by Odin too.

with Odin, i don't think Thor is that close. i hc Odin to spend a bit more time with the children of his who will take up important roles in his kingdom; for example, Baldr who is his heir, or Tyr and Freyja who would take charge of defense and war strategies, etc.

because Thor isn't all that bright, i don't think he that much responsibility in terms of organisation or management... he is simply a powerhouse who lends his aid when it's requested.

that's not to say that Thor and Odin don't like each other. they just have a different relationship. they are similar in terms of their personality, and i think Odin definitely would have given Thor instruction in the art of war, etc.

anyhow. amongst the rest of the gods, Thor gets along very well with Bragi. Thor loves music a lot, even if he sings offkey when drunk (which is most of the time).

he also enjoys spending time with Heimdallr. i think Heimdallr would tell Thor stories when he was a child that Thor later still recalls to tell his own children (Heimdallr is the eldest child).

strangely enough, i think Thor is one of the few gods who manages to break the ice (haha) with Skadi when she first comes to Asgard. because she's a hothead and Thor's a hothead and they're both super strong, i think they can go toe-to-toe with each other.

so yeah. there u go :)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I Am Blackened Bones (Last Part)

Her re-coronation ceremony comes with a festival. The first one that she had attended in ages. The servants had made good on their promise, she had been buried under so much silk and fabric that it was almost suffocating. Her head was heavy with golden combes and elaborate, dangly hair sticks. And then beneath a crown. But she had looked beautiful. Felt beautiful. But it wasn’t exactly practical attire for a festival and so she has dressed herself down. Something simpler, more comfortable and breathable but with a nice touch of elegance.

She isn’t sure that she wants to stand out, but she seems to do so all the same. Looks and murmurs aren’t lost on her, although she can never quite make any of them out. She thinks that that might before the best, despite Katara’s reassurance that they are just curious to see how she is doing and what she is like.

Azula tucks her hands into her sleeves and pauses to look around. Zuko and Mai have yet to arrive with TyLee and that adds a whole level of anxiousness to her already edgy mood.

“It’s weird being back at home, isn’t it?” Katara asks softly. She already knows the answer.

Weird, she supposes, is one way to describe it. “I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.” She has been gone for long enough to have forgotten the do’s and dont’s. Long enough to make a fool of herself, trying to fit back into the standards that she had once upheld.

She laughs too loud. Her posture never seems to be as poised as it had been. She she talks too much when she gets into a conversation Her clothes seem far too elegant for her even when she is dressed down. She says the wrong things and at the wrong times.

And Katara seems to find it terribly endearing. She finds it rgayer humiliating.

“Of course you belong here, you're their princess. And they seemed pretty happy to have you back during your re-coronation ceremony.”

“Right…” Azula mumbles.

“They’re probably just curious to see your firebending performance tonight.”

Azula isn't sure if she is ready to give them something else to talk about. Isn't sure if she is ready to show off her white fire, everyone had made such a big deal of her blue fire. But she does enjoy feeling the heat of her flames on her face, had always enjoyed the thrill of a display well planned. Which, evidently, is the other problem; she usually plans her choreography at least a few months in advance. She says as much to Katara.

Katara who gives her one of those soft smiles and laughs. “I thought that you said that you wanted to be more spontaneous and whimsical like the spirit. Well here's your chance! These shows are all about creativity anyways.”

Azula bites her lower lip. “Yes. I suppose.” But it still makes her stomach flutter. It is quite a risk to make her first festival fire dance an impromptu act.

.oOo.

Azula worries too much. Overtones things that need not be over thought. Her firebening is nothing short of mesmerizing. Mesmerizing and masterful.

Everything is an art from her breathing to her hand gestures to her firebening itself. She has adorned her hands with elegant armor. The sort that makes her hands look like long silver claws. It was certainly a unique choice to dress in silvers, blues, and whites instead of a Fire Nation red and gold. But it suits her well. And it suits her fire well.

Each and every gesture is deliberate and elegant. The twist of her wrist, the quick flick and pulling back of her arms, the roll of her hips. It takes katara a moment to realize that she is mimicking the swish and sway of the north sky curtains. That her arm gestures wave like those lights and her fire fur also and unfurls just as the colors had weaved in and out of one another.

Sparks look like crystals of snow. And smoke rolls across the stage like seafoam crowning a wave. And Aaula stands at the center of it all, hair fluttering, forks of lightning crackling around her. She is in her own snowy, stormy sea.

She looks upon the crowd, fierce and focused. Her fire reflects in her eyes, putting a confident twinkle in them that almost fools Katara. If she hadn't heard it from Azula’s own lips, she wouldn't think her nervous in the slightest.

Her fire snuffs out and her hair settles over her shoulders. She ends with a graceful bow and closes her eyes as the crowd claps for her.

“Well she certainly hasn't lost her touch.” Mai comments.

“It comes naturally to her.” Zuko replies.

But Katara has a feeling that she will still complain about how rusty her skills have gotten because of disuse. Katara can't tell the difference. If anything, she seems better connected to her fire than ever.

.oOo.

She is more nervous to see TyLee again than she had been to perform. Perhaps more nervous than she had been to speak with Mai. But it is one last thing. One last thing that makes her feel jittery.

TyLee looks perfectly content just talking with Katara, Zuko, and Mai. It gives her the impression that she is intruding on something when she walks up and greets them.

“That was an amazing show.” Katara says.

“Thank you.”

“Sparkler?” Zuko offers.

“Those are for children.” Azula replies.

“I’m pretty sure that the label says not to give those to kids.” Sokka points out.

Azula shrugs. “Father let me use them all the time when I was a child.”

“He also let you go to war when you were a child.” Sokka quirks a brow.

She snatches a box of poppers and tosses one at his big toe. He gives a satisfying “yowch!” She takes another and tosses it at the pavement, watching it give flash it’s split-second spark. “Zuzu and I used to throw these at each other all the time. And when father told us to stop we would throw them at him.”

TyLee giggles. “Oh yeah! That was so funny!”

Azula nods.

“You two were little menaces.” Aang says as Toph cackles, “no wonder Ozai was so angry all the time.”

“He didn’t need our help.” Zuko grumbles. “We threw those poppers at each other and we turned out fine.”

“Did we?” Azula quirks a brow. “You have anger issues and a need to people please and I have…whatever it is that causes a person to see things that aren’t there now and then.”

“You’re also a people pleaser.” Mai shrugs.

“Speaking of which…” She turns to TyLee. “It’s good to see you again, TyLee. Katara and I were going to go get some tea and kebabs. Do you want me to bring anything back for you?”

“I’d like to go with you guys. I can never decide which kind of kebab to get.”

“But the fireworks display is about to start.”

“As it does every hour.” Mai reminds her. “The main event isn’t until midnight so…”

“But we’ve never missed an hourly show.” Azula replies. “Except, of course, for the past few years when we didn’t attend the festival.”

“Well then I guess the three of you better hurry back.” Mai shrugs. “We’ll go set up the picnic blanket and what not.”

“Top of the hill, under the maple tree?” Zuko asks.

“Top of the hill, under the maple tree.”

And so they split off. She, Katara, and TyLee follow the scent of sizzling meat and chili pepper and the others follow the blinking of the fireflies towards the hill.

“How have you been, Azula. I heard that things have been really…strange for you.”

“Yes, a little bit.” She finds herself toying with the excess fabric of her kimono’s sleeve. “I…I got to see a few new places. The Spirit Oasis was nice—I was unconscious or freezing while I was there though so I didn’t get to take in the scenery all that well. But the Water Tribes have these lights that dance in the sky. Have you ever seen them? I think that you would like them!” Maybe she should give TyLee a turn to speak. But TyLee seems perfectly content to listen to her talk about the lights. “I based my performance off of that. Maybe we can all go one day. Me, you, and Mai. Like old times.” She would quite like that.

“That sounds nice, Azula. But I would like to…get used to talking to you again.”

It is TyLee’s kind way of saying that she needs to build trust again. And Azula can’t blame her. She feels somewhat the same. They have to get used to each other again. She has to get used to the Fire Nation again. She also has to get used to herself. She likes to think that she will keep good company on that journey.

“What about you, TyLee? What have you been up to these days?”

“Oh! All sorts of things! I was with the Kyoshi Warriors for a while, as you know, but then I saw this traveling circus and I just couldn’t resist. I kind of missed that, you know?”

Azula nods. “That suits you much better than being a Kyoshi Warrior…or someone who just follows me around. You’re a skilled combatant, but you aren’t a soldier.”

“None of us were.” Katara adds and Azula nods her agreement.

“I’m so much happier with that traveling circus. We go everywhere and see everything and they are such a fun bunch!” TyLee declares.

Truly it sounds like the perfect path for her. Azula hopes that she can find her own now that she has the time and mental fortitude to do so. “Have you ever played any Caldera City festival games, Katara?”

“I did once about a year after the war. Turns out that you need to be a firebender to win most of them.”

“Hmm. Yes. That’s right. Our games are fire based. However, I imagine that, now that we have more waterbenders and earthbenders who attend, we probably have more diverse gaming options.”

“Is that your way of asking if I can win you one of those?” She points at a fluffy pile of plush toys.

“It might be, yes.” She pauses. “It, of course, is also an opportunity to prove that I am better than you at a game of flaming hoops.”

“That’s a firebending game.”

“The hoops don’t necessarily have to be on fire.” TyLee smiles.

“But then it is not a game of flaming hoops. It is just regular hoops.” Azula frowns. She clears her throat, “not that I particularly care what kind of hoops they are, so long as I get a prize.”

“She cares a lot.” TyLee whispers. “It’s going to bother her all night if you play flaming hoops with hoops that aren’t flaming.”

Katara smirks. “Well I guess I know what I’m doing tonight.”

Does Azula win their game of hoops? Only three out of five times. It would seem that Katara is quite better at it than she had anticipated. Has she acquired one large komodo-rhino plushie, three smaller ones, and a sky bison plushie? Most certainly. She gives the sky bison to TyLee who snuggles the thing all the way back to their spot on the hill.

Did they forget the tea? Yes. Did they also forget the kebabs? Also yes. Are the others quite disappointed? Quite. Is that humorous? Indeed.

Sokka loses their game of drawing straws so he has to walk down the hill and fetch their tea and kebabs. At least he does not have to wait in line. At least there are going to be at least three more shows before the main event.

Azula leans herself against Katara. Lets the waterbender wrap her arms around her the way that she had back when she was just some confused and curious fire spirit. It is comfortable. A nice welcome home. A promising welcome.

There is noise all around; booms, crackles and pops. Sizzles, drum beats, and laughter. Chatter, chimes, whistles, and smokey hisses.

Azula had missed home so terribly and it doesn’t truly hit until now. She is thankful for that. Thankful, also, for the realization that her yearning for home means that she still belongs here. That her flame is still strong. She isn’t entirely certain of where she will go from here, but wherever she goes, she will travel whole and hopeful. Authentic and cherished.

She looks at Katara. The fireworks twinkle in those pretty blue eyes, bathe her soft skin in flashes of pink, green, and gold. It is not unlike the sky curtains. Azula turns her own gaze back to the fireworks.

She stares up at them with Katara’s hand in one of her hands and several komodo-rhino plushies in the other.

She used to know all about komodo-rhinos. She still knows all about komodo-rhinos.

20 to 55 inches. 4 tons. Black or white komodo rhino. 59 inches. 7 tons. White or black komodo rhino. 39 inches. 7 tons. Greater one horned komodo rhino. 60 inches. 10,000 pounds. Caldera ash komodo rhino.

[bright-and-burning]

holup what's the shadow and bone meets x-men fic ???

ok so this is almost entirely stuck in voice notes to @mecachrome while i was literally cooking but i was also metaphorically cooking...

basically there's these demon creature things (a la the shadow and bone shadow creature fuckery in the. rift? i only read soc. and dont remember the name from my single season of watching the show. okdsajlfk sorry) that are fucking life up for everyone. full on militarized culture like. was it x-men days of future past where the future is this like. red skied steel fortress constant defense thing? never seen pacific rim (i know) but also maybe slightly those vibes?

anyways. everybody gets put into like. military school. academy whatever. but also there's powers. so there's training that everyone goes through but like. to advance to the actual military bits as something more than a glorified meat shield you need to a) develop powers and b) pass the training. like some people just don't develop powers. more explanation of the set up below the cut!

the demon creature things have been significantly worse since 2016 (hehe...). lando's not got powers so he's older than everyone in his classes since he's literally as far up as you can get without "graduating" (developing powers and getting shipped off to die fight) and kind of wanders the academy like a ghost. has watched all his peers and friends one by one pair off and get real assignments and disappear from his life. knows his ways thru the vents, knows how to get into all sorts of files, is besties w the instructor (jenson), etc. the only reason he hasn't been booted to be somebody important's secretary is bc they have a massive shortage of bodies at this point. like lando might not be able to shoot fuckin lightning out of his hands but he Does have the training down PERFECTLY.

so he keeps getting sent out w newbies on these training missions that are becoming more and more real with each week. and they come back and get paired off permanently w someone else w powers and go move up in the world and lando stays right where he is, getting older and older as his partners stay the same age.

oscar on the other hand (yeah it's landoscar are we surprised) has FLOWN through training (in a diff academy.) but has struggled to find a partnership that Works and is basically ruled a danger in the field bc of it. so he's sent to the academy lando's at until he gets his shit together, and they pair him w lando bc like. can't have a clash of powers w an unpowered guy. can't fuck up too badly w the only unpowered guy to survive x number of missions. and if things do go tits up. well. theyre only losing a 20 something w no powers. also oscar's thing is he's telepathic. important.

two guys annoyed as hell at being paired together. oscar is so mad he's been sent back to running glorified training missions and on top of that gotten paired w some powerless dude who he thinks is probably this world's version of a nepo baby cuz how else has he not gotten kicked out of school yet. lando is so mad he's babysitting a guy who can't handle having a fucking partner, that all anyone thinks he's good for is getting overpowered egos to be more stable partners, that he's literally being put to this because his life is worth less. but there's government secrets piling up around them and things are getting worse and worse and they're getting sent out on like actual missions bc there's not enough healthy people in the field and theyre the oldest and most experienced--

and then things evolve from there... lots of things not quite as they seem... hehehe. i am like. not terribly certain of my ability to write this. but there is LORE. 2016 is IMPORTANT. i WANT to write it. so bad. i just have to learn how to plot things. lol

[lumenflowered]

Haunter Mail!

A nightmare, borrowed and yet your own:

You find yourself on hard, bare, natural stone. As you get up from kneeling on your elbows, you see you are standing on a plateau in a mesa. A place of islands of stone between deep chasms, a plain shattered like a broken mirror.

As you stand there in awe, you see it on the horizon front of you. A wall of cloud and wind and rain. Dark, but crackling with lightning. Rumbling with thunder. Getting closer with each second. A Great Storm unlike any you have seen before. You turn to the side of the towering collection of plateaus behind you, running into a hollow in the structure, carved out cleanly into a shelter, facing away from the storm. In mere moments, a great rushing of air and rain and wind crashes into the rock like a ravenous beast, howling and clawing as if it wants to eat you alive. It seems like the storm takes hours to pass, before all the noise stops and it grows dark. It feels as if time has stopped. You walk out of the shelter.

Only to look up. There. Above you. Around you. Stretching into eternity: A face. The Father of The Storm. It speaks:

CHILD OF BLOOD. CHILD OF REBIRTH.

Its voice thunders, rattles your very bones. And then…

You awake.

...Well I suppose there is something to be said for variety.

i am

so sorry

i dont think i can get rid of these ones with dream eater >:(

I will survive.

[hypergryph]

So if the raw magic inside of eggs comes from the deities what would happen if someone,say , drank one of the deities blood? (Assuimg they dont die instantly)(and that deities have blood)

Talosian Researcher Aurashira:

Your question is an unusual one indeed, and required quite a bit of digging in the Talosian Archives! After scouring and scouring, I managed to find these texts hidden within a false page of Sol'Aurii's private journal...

{"The gods aren't merely flesh and bone,

The gods aren't blood, nor bane, nor stone,

Nor fire, water, lightning, air,

nor light nor shade, nor nature's fare.

Not even magic doth compare...

To forces vast and cosmic.

Yet should a bug-like paltry thing,

from cosmic layline latch and cling,

and thus indulge in hubris deep,

and taste from blood forbade to seep,

impossible a drink to keep...

To forces,

vast and cosmic..."

-So'lAurii, the Aurum Poet}

Aurashira: Well, that's ominous... That last line almost seemed like part of a toast...The next one's not so frightening, if you don't think about it too much.

{In terms of the sheer power held by the Eleven, what could be attributed and what could be described isn't something dragon language is equipped to do. They are majestic living black holes who, through the sheer inexplicable weight of their existence, warp the universe itself.

What can be described-magic, blood & flesh, the elements, ect- are merely byproducts. Specks of dust in a shockwave hardly aware of their mother supernova. Dragons, life, magic, it's all mortal fallout from the never-ending blast-event that IS the Eleven. However, should a piece of this fallout try returning to its point of origin, should a being decide to indulge in insanity and sip from the vein of god...well... The consequences can only be described as eldritch...

-Sol'Aurii}

Aurashira: Hmm...this is a mystery we'll have to solve quietly. The public-not to mention the gods* shivers*- might not take kindly to the nature of this research. A few trusted friends of mine are looking into our oldest & most protected tomes, and will meet with you soon to discuss our findings. Hopefully the results aren't as terrifying as these texts imply.

[thegeminisage]

ok we are SO back 1 hour yet again let's get these redeads

EWWWW the weird tree from before is like...birthing them. so gross

ZELDA?????????????? omg evil zelda time!!!

lol how buliara in these voiced cutscenes just grunts. cmon just dont have her here

....................

i saw something flying that looked like a giant dragonfly? but it had limbs? glowing eyes????

and im like: no way. no way no way no way. but i shot it down. killed it with fire. gibdo bones. THEY HAVE INSECT WINGS AND THEY FLYYYYYY

cathy did say "wait for it" when i asked if they were scary. kill it WITH FIRE those bitches are NOT gonna get the jump on me i'm a seasoned veteran

oh wow. theyre called gibdo HIVES. whats worse than redeads? making them BUGS!!!

oooh am i gonna build town defenses...that's really cool

ok. ive prepped!!!! im nervous!!! but we are doing it!!!!!!!!!

absolutely WICKED thunder and lightning happening outside rn. totally rainless. the ambience.......

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THEY CAN CRAWL FAST WHAT THE FUCK

THEYRE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FAST! THE ONLY THING THEY ARENT IS FAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god i did it. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

that was really. really scary

lol and immediately a blood moon. rip.

awww barta let me fire the canon and got scolded lol

EWWWW gibdo WING!!! gross loot

oh man going thru the sand shroud and getting beset upon by redeads...bad. they were shambling slowly and i got em fast but i don't like not being able to see them from a distance

oh my god this light puzzle 🥺 it really IS like the spirit temple...i LOVE that throwback weh

um.......idk what to do at this second pillar lol. do i like turn it? hit it?

sidetracked by a shrine. monsters around it, quicksand, the works. walking in quicksand is CRAZY i just noticed how fast it drains your stamina......

found a travel korok lol. sorry buddy you're gonna have to wait. i cannot see shit

i'm just gonna look up this pillar thing. rip.

YES ok theres a pushing wheel thingy i missed bc of the shroud. ok

tbh thank fuck for my sandboots i could never do this with having to walk slowly

AAAAAA i found more redeads. a trail of arrows stuck in the sand leading up to them...spooky

this puzzle being a triangle <3 triforce iconography

ZELDA?????

it's fake zelda........................................

i gotta admit, it's less shocking once you know she's really flying around up in the sky lol

oh my god oh my god oh my god THIS IS ITTTTT this is the thing from the trailer!!!!

oh. gibdo hives bad

lightning temple! i knew it would be lightning

weh the music.

my god it's HUGE...i guess i just have to get to the top?

remind me of the pyramid from alttp lol. like The one yk

every time i think i'm at the top i find more layers!! am i even doing this right? if there's a cool way to do it i don't want to miss that...

i made it, but nothing up here...there must be a way inside i'm missing

omg you can blow away sand with tulin's ability lol

ok i went back down and...nothing. i guess i gotta look it up :/

THE GUIDE SAYS ATTACK THE GIBDO HIVES I LITERALLY DID THAT...smh..........

ok, maybe i did it wrong

What The Fuck Is That.

QUEEN GIBDO? BOSS THIS EARLY????

SHE LOOKS NOTHING LIKE A GIBDO OR A REDEAD WHY IS SHE A BUGGGGGGG

i don't have this desert armor upgraded like at all <3 i'm getting my ass beat <3

lol and now i'm supposed to get to the roof from INSIDE...girl i already did that from OUTSIDE

i wanna see the temple tho so i'm going

oh wow this is AMAZING...this feels like a proper dungeon

there's bones in the hole below this bridge. like, gibdo bones. like loots. feels like a trap

only one way to find out i guess

and a keese wing. no trap. that's so weird has someone been fighting here or something

eugh a redead in this room. as creepy as it is when they shamble just watching them lie there is somehow worse

this bobby trap just scared the SHIT out of me. wtf

just checked my map. this shit has SEVEN FLOORS and a basement??? no wonder the climb took so long.......truly a proper dungeon...........................

A TRAP!!!!! there was a hive in a hole and TREASURE in the hole but i couldn't attack the hive until i got the treasure!!! when i was in the hole!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok, im getting ym ass kicked. gotta change back into real armor. much as i love dressing to match the set

this construct did scare the shit out of me btw

OHHHH the mirrors :( just like the spirit temple...

ok, i made it to the temple proper. gotta quit here bc i have an early morning, rip :( i cant waaaait to sink my teeth into this one!!!

[itismissswann]

@conjurerandking || Continued from here

As they trekked through the jungle, Loki followed the fading path of the clones he had sent out. Currently the clones were in a ditch, with other very real bodies in various states of decomposition, lined up as if they were aging slabs of beef across palms and banana leaves, letting the sun slowly cook them. The thought made him shudder and he quickly came back from his clone at the same time Elizabeth spoke.

“I’m following a breadcrumb trail, more or less. But where the clones are, is not where the tribesmen reside.” He said, “stay close.”

Eventually the smell of a burning fire hung in the air, and as they continued Loki could start to hear drumming get louder and the noise of rituals near. Abruptly he came to a stop when his eyes landed on the crew. His eyes met with Mister Gibbs’ and he could see the rest fall in line ready to fall into hysterics. Loki quickly motioned with a finger pressed to his lips, shushing the crew and placing a protective arm around Elizabeth, behind him. They almost blended in with the dense surrounding jungle.

Mister Gibbs was staring intently at him, tense and unmoving. “How did you play dead for that long?” He whispered, keeping his head on a swivel after he spoke, making sure the Pelegostos didn’t hear him.

“I’m just that good.” Loki grinned, “I’ll come back, just dont ma--” Loki’s voice faded quickly at the sight he could see through the trees. And just like that, all of his caution was swept away by the harsh breeze that rustled the palms above them. The trunks of coconut trees groaned with the high winds above that didn’t quite make it past the canopy. The thought crossed his mind, time and time again to just say to hell with blending in. But for him to stay hidden by the TVA, he had to do his best not to. The sight of the six infinity stones made his blood boil and his entire body go tense. Although just before his breaking point, he saw movement in his foreground, and he realized they were suddenly surrounded again. The group much more docile than before. But that didn’t calm Loki at all. In fact, he barely bat an eyelash in any other direction other than rage. His logical mind fighting to surface.

Loki’s patience was running terribly thin by now. he turned his head slightly when she said his name, a moment of concern entered his mind before one of the cannibals reached out and touched his hair. Like lightning he stopped them, grabbing the wrist of the cannibal with a strength that made him shriek in pain as Loki felt the bones shifting against his palm. “Enough!” He roared. The Loki (controlled by Thanos all those years ago) was coming to the surface, much like his trip in Germany. He was not having much more of this. For a moment, he thought that would have erupted the cannibals into attacking them, as this could have been seen as an aggressive gesture. But the group was frozen, staring at him with wide eyes, and some lips trembled at the sight before them.

Loki knew thousands of languages. Their language held some familiarity to him, even though this was an Earthly language, there were elements he could understand and he began to speak to them in a language similar to their own. His tone was dark yet powerful even if he was being very soft spoken. A voice of a true king, a god, who had very little patience left for this situation. As he spoke, the attitudes around them changed to something more willing and docile even more in nature. Even making them retreat back to camp, quickly fetching Jack from his throne to set him free.

Loki watched, but avoided Elizabeth’s gaze, and the crew’s. He was digging this hole further and further for himself, and he feared he was getting past the point of no return.

“We should return to the ship.. at once.”

There was a notable change in his behaviour. She could see the anger bubble up inside him, his eyes darkening. So lost in that moment and the torment his brain was in. His muscles tensed, an inability to think would soon follow. The rational Loki seemed to loose the battle. 

Her brows furrowed, watching how the grip around the cannibal’s wrist grew. She could almost hear his bones crack underneath the pressure. His other hand stayed firmly by his side, yet his words had more impact than they ever could. His voice startled her and the Pelegostos, and she followed their lead when they took a step backwards; alarmed by the potential danger that lingered around him. His demeanor was so high and mighty, like everything and everyone was all so far beneath him. 

He had managed to persuade the tribe to let them go, not through violence, this time communication lead to their freedom. Soon she would run out of fingers to count the amount of times Loki had saved them. This made her wonder, was this the reason why he despised Jack so much. His reckless adventurous a ticket to the grave.

The first half of their journey back to the Pearl Elizabeth had strolled next to Loki. He seemed conscious of her presence, although he was distant from her, so she decided to hold her tongue and not overwhelm him with questions. The other half, she spend on Mr. Gibbs side. He took it upon him to inform her about what happened with theatrical words. 

The weather remained ominous with dark clouds rolling in, pushed by an ever-increasing wind that churned the sky in threatening waves. The absence of thunder informed them it would most likely be nothing more than a possible downpour. 

The sight of black sails blending in with the dark clouds behind, managed to lighten up the exhausted faces of the crew. The tide returning, the wind favorable. Elizabeth rushed after Jack when he was aboard his beloved ship. “Jack!’ she said, grabbing his arm, forcing him to face her. His expression harsh as if he was upset about something. “You,” his gaze shifted to Loki only to return to her again, “certainly took your time to come and rescue us.” Bitterness crept through her as she dwelt on his words. “Ow Jack, don’t be absurd. We came as fast as we could.” A mocking laugh escaped his lips; pushing her backwards with two soft pushes. “Besides, aren’t you the one that got us into this situation in the first place?” Eyes on his back again when he turned, determined footsteps leading him to the safety of his cabin. Elizabeth had chased after him angrily calling his name. “You have not been entirely honest with us, have you! What is it you are running from?!”  Elizabeth reached for the door when she realized what he was about to do. “Don’t” she warned. There was a loud bang as the door slammed close in front of her, ending their conversation. Her hand on the doorknob, pulling it rather desperately. “Mr Sparrow, you can’t be serious!” she said through clenched teeth, making another attempt to open the door, but it seemed pointless. 

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. When she turned around, she noticed him, his back turned towards her, watching the sea. His hair waved in the breeze, those gentle waves that defied rules and gravity with equal contempt. Something or someone had triggered something deep inside him. It couldn’t possibly just be Jack, could it? Yes, he didn’t trust him nor like him, but she was fairly certain something so trivial wouldn’t get the better of him. The jewels. She recalled how those gems had temporarily bewitched her body and soul as well. 

“We could steal them, you know” she whispered, leaning her arms on the railing of the ship when she stood beside him, eyes on the blackened horizon. “I have no intention of interfering in your affairs, but I couldn’t help but notice the impact those gems inflicted upon you.”  She let her gaze fall on Loki’s face, black hair blanketed his cheeks hiding his high cheekbones “So perhaps, this time, I can return a favor? I’ll distract him and you steal what I believe to be rightfully yours.” 

[smoliboops]

I posted 1,381 times in 2022

84 posts created (6%)

1,297 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fear-is-nameless

@isa-ghost

@ultranerdygirl

@artistic-nightowl

@turquoisemagpie

I tagged 1,194 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#fanart - 507 posts

#jacksepticeye - 376 posts

#dream smp - 192 posts

#antisepticeye - 134 posts

#markiplier - 132 posts

#jse iris - 118 posts

#fav - 113 posts

#doctor who - 100 posts

#chase brody - 95 posts

#nf - 89 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#op does this mean slimecicle is cas cos they were both nonhuman beings who were shown how to be human only for them to die cos of it and com

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

"The computer's aid" some thoughts:

1. The earliest computers started as basically calculators/algorithm solvers (they helped "compute" them) so the arithmetic part fits this as well

2. Despite major AI advances, our brains are basically still the fastest computer we have (literally AI tries to reach the speed our neurons fire when poblem solving/calculating and still havent done so yet), so "computer's aid" something to supplement our already fast problem solving speed also makes sense. the theory discord I'm in pointed out that some of the first computers were actually people hired to compute too!

3. This is the first of IRIS's earliest prototypes meaning that they have definitely invented a more advanced version of this.

So, what if this is one of the earliest versions of Anti? Going from a a compueter aid thru your head/bones ->a more advanced version of an AI helper-> said ai helper advances too much maybe that it corrupts and creates Anti, taking control over the user?

313 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

#4

“Lightning-fast notification whenever motion or emotion is detected”

beeping alarm noise and red lights

now when have we seen red and emotional distress

See the full post

350 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

Idk if anyone pointed this out, but the integration setup reminded me heavily of the interview setup in part 4 of stories untold like

472 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#2

i dont know if anyone mentioned this, but thinking about that last scene of Anti finally coming thru the camera, passing all of the bodies of the iris workers he literally just killed and introducing himself to chase and like. if that was the point where anti was corporeal/chase finally saw him in person, like can you just imagine how terrified  Chase must’ve been to see all those people drop like flies basically out of nowhere beforehand? 

Something you can’t see just decimating everyone around you as you remain the last person alive somehow. only to have the thing you had just tried to warn them about,  very thing that has been haunting you for so long, that feeling of absolute dread and horror personified literally looming over you. greeting you with a simple hello and a smile.

522 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

summary of bad’s lore today

533 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[descendantofthesparrow]

Wishful thinking - Walter Deville x reader - Oneshot smut request

requested by  Hufflepuff1701 on wattpad~!

Walter Deville x reader. Walter ends up in our world & reader takes care of him despite having seen the movie because she is like every other girl who watched the movie & would’ve been all for being the third bride. Spicy please!! My damn vampire kink…lol

Warning; mention of suicide, description of suicide. bloodplay, intended manipulation, manipulation, sex. MINORS DNI FOR UR OWN GOOD, U DONT NEED TO BE READING SMUT MY GODS(good lord knows i didn't need to) also practice safe sex even if ur with a immortal dude whos infertile, still good to practice safe sex my guys

Fem reader; she/her used. 

=

The gardens were ready, the art studio was set up, and the Alexander suite was furnished and decorated accordingly. Walter smirked to himself, rolling his neck with a satisfying crack. In just less than a week, Evelyn Alexander and he would be wed, and once more he would be at full power.

It had only been a few years since Emmaline, his most recent Alexander bride; had chosen to depart from this world.

-A piano wire around the neck, and a short drop from the 2nd floor. She had beheaded herself, a sight; not even he had been immune to.-

And yet-in such a small amount of time(at least to the immortal beings of the estate)-he and everyone else within the three families had felt the stain of the third bride's absence. He felt weaker, if only just so-but neither Viktoria nor Lucy were allowed to leave the grounds, in fear of any remaining vampire hunters. He feared with them not being complete-not being at full power-none of them would have the ability to survive an encounter with someone who knew exactly how to kill them

Though they were only seen as myths, legend, nowadays; vampires. Hunters were only seen in books, or made to be a legend as well; even around all hallows eve, some mortals would dress up as hunters, and some as vampires.

They looked like those ones in the black and white movies Lucy had shown him so many years ago, dorky and cheap. Though some, of the new modern age; looked-quite interesting, gothic and bloody.  Walter sighed at the thought, running his hands through his slicked-back hair, and wandering through the darkened halls of his manor.

Thunder and lightning decorated the grounds, rain crashing against the blue tiles of the roof and windows. Walter let out a slow breath, rubbing his hands on his pants as he made his way downstairs towards his study, pausing as his vision flashed a blinding white, thunder immediately following the flash.

“Never seen it this intense before,” Walter said to himself, even the night of Emmaline’s death hadn’t been this-stormy. More lightning coursed across his vision, and he swore he saw things within the white.

Another blinding flash of white and Walter had to close his eyes to protect his vision, thunder crowding his hearing as he clenched his jaw, his entire body humming painfully.

“Fuck” Walter panted as the white finally faded, and suddenly, rain began to soak his form. “What?” he opened his eyes, gasping at what he saw. He was no longer in his manor, but in a random alleyway, rain crashing down on him and the same thunder rumbling above. “how did i-” Walter flinched at the rolling cry of thunder and he shook his head, his hair already soaked along with his clothes.”…get here?”

If he was human, he would’ve been freezing, but even then he felt the nip of the cold rain at his fingertips. No matter, he needed to get somewhere dry, and hopefully warm. He didn’t feel the cold but he didn’t really like it either, at least in this way.

He let out a harsh breath as a car flew past as he stumbled out of the alleyway, hitting a large puddle and soaking Walter even further to the bone “…fucking cars” Walter groaned, flicking his hands about in a futile way to rid them of water; he cringed at the mess on his shirt, half of that water was fucking mud, and now he was filthy.

“Where the fuck am I?” he asked himself, turning on his heels for any sign of where he was, he didn’t see anything so far, but he wasn’t in Whitby that was for sure. He attempted to find the main road or something because as far as he could tell, he was on some sort of back road or closed neighborhood or…something.

Walter sighed, for once-he wished he had some sort of-device, that would allow him to pin-point his location. Oliver time and time again had attempted to convince him ‘phones’ weren’t all that bad, but time and time again, Walter refused; he hated technology. (though he did have to admit, movies were fun)

But now-damn a phone would’ve been useful.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he found the main road, and he was in some sort of city, surrounded by tall buildings and hundreds of screens and lights.

….

How in the hell did he get to New York city?!?!?!

Walter groaned, rubbing his head, rain still falling like there was no tomorrow. He was in fucking New York city, how he got there? He had no clue. How he was going to get home? That he also didn’t know.

He didn’t have any money, or his passport, or anything else on him. (yes he had a passport, even as a vampire he did still have to be a visible ‘human’ otherwise someone would get suspicious). He was fucked to put it plainly.

Walter grunted as someone pushed into his back, sending him slightly towards the busy road. “hey-“ he snapped, forgetting his manners since-it was likely no one would know him here…though Evelyn Alexander did live within new York city, so he should probably be a bit careful in how he acted.

He glared at the passing stranger, their hands above their head in an attempt to protect themselves from the weather; they probably didn’t even realize he was there. Walter huffed, shaking his head again and brushing his hair back out of his eyes, squinting as he tried to look around through the sheets of rain.

He knew some of the extended family of the 3 great families lived in New York, he could possibly get in contact with one of them, most likely the Alexander’s at best. But also he knew the Alexander’s here weren't really involved with the pact-they knew about it and kept quiet, but they weren’t…into it to say the least.

But still, it would be the best option. He just had to figure out where the hell to go to find one.

He went to turn and find some sort of-map, when he was shoved again, this time very harshly as a hand attempted to sneak his non-existent wallet off him. Walter fell back towards the road, his eyes widening as fear stuck into his chest-two large beams of light was heading right for him, and while he had incredible speed and reaction times-he really had no time to react.

Walter snapped his eyes shut, he knew he would survive the hit, but damn it wouldn’t hurt any less. Time seemed to slow down as he fell towards the street and a truck sped towards him, honking all the while as people passing by gasped in fright.

He felt a hand grab his soaked button-up and tug him back towards the sidewalk, he could feel the rush of air as the truck zoomed by-just moments after his head passed the threshold. “holy shit!” whoever it was grabbed him yelped, having used so much force he and the voice stumbled back to the ground, Walter ending up on top. “WATCH WHERE YOU PUSH YOU FUCKER!” the voice yelled, and Walter winced as it cracked through the pouring rain, he looked up, seeing whoever had pushed him was booking it down the street-though they did trip and face plant thanks to the rain.

Walter pushed himself off whoever had saved him, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “Are-are you okay?” The voice asked, resting their hand on his shoulder, the rain suddenly no longer crashing on his head. He looked up, an umbrella, he looked at the voice, seeing a pair of striking (e/c) eyes staring back at him, concerned and….surprised? as if they didn’t expect to see…him. specifically.

“I’m fine, thank you” he muttered, slowly standing up with the girl as she grasped his arm and helped him up, keeping the umbrella over the both of them. “you don’t look, fine” the girl muttered, scanning over his soaked visage “you got somewhere to stay? I assume you do but-“ she shrugged, pursing her lips slightly.

Walter huffed, slicking back his hair again. He did have a plan, but-with how this rain was-he wouldn’t be able to execute it until it stopped “no-no I don’t, are you offering?” Walter laughed, he knew he had a-charm to him, and was quite the vision-but for a random girl to invite him into her home? Just because he was soaking wet and almost ‘died’?

“yes, I’m just downtown-I called an uber actually. Promise you’re not a serial killer?” the girl joked, laughing as Walter nodded, holding up his hands to show he had no weapons. He didn’t know why, but he felt such-ease-at acting so human with this girl, it gave him hope that he could easily fool Evelyn when the time came. “Awesome, shit-there it is, let's go” she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the black car that had pulled up to the curb, the driver inside calling out the girl's name.

“For (y/n)!?” the male called, his dark brows furrowing as he squinted through the rain “yep! Joseph I presume?” the girl, (y/n), called back, nodding as the driver nodded and unlocked the door. (y/n) tugged Walter into the car with her and closed the umbrella before they settled in, towels lining the leather seats. “Thank you so much”

Joseph nodded, keeping his eyes peeled as he attempted to move back into the main road, sighing as a car sped right by him. Walter sighed at the warmth of the car, grabbing a dry towel from the middle seat and rubbing his hair with it, noting there was a little sign on the back of the seats to tell the riders to toss the towels in the back after being used.

“you just let a complete stranger into your-” Walter struggled to remember the word this, (y/n), had used a moment before “uber, and planning to let him into your house” he turned to her, furrowing his brows as (y/n) just snorted “how do you know I wasn’t lying about being a serial killer?”

(y/n) grinned, leaning towards him “I like to believe in people, plus; what are the chances that we're both, serial killers” Walter couldn’t help it, he laughed, his nose scrunching as (y/n) nodded, happy she had eased the slight tension as Joseph finally pulled out into the road and began making his way downtown.

“I’m (y/n), by the way” (y/n) introduced herself, holding out her hand to Walter, he nodded with a polite smile and a tense jaw; reminding himself that he needed to keep calm as (y/n)’s scent floated towards him. “I’m Walter, Walter Deville.”

Surprise flooded (y/n)’s eyes, and her hand twitched in his “As in-Lord Deville?” (y/n) asked, her voice quiet, but calm. Walter nodded, so it did seem he was a bit more…known, than he thought he was. “yes, that would be me.” (y/n) stared at him for a moment, then nodded; squeezing his hand lightly before pulling back “Nice to meet you, Walter.”

“Same to you, (y/n).” Walter muttered back, keeping his eyes on (y/n) as she huddled in her corner of the car, a slight flush growing on her cheeks. He could hear her heart speed up, her blood flowing rapidly to her face and…oh~oh well, this was interesting ~

-

Walter slid off his shoes as he stepped into (y/n)’s apartment, sniffing as he glanced around the two-bedroom apartment. “it’s not much I know, but-pretty much the best a college dropout can afford on a three-job paycheck” Walter hummed, taking the towel (y/n) handed him and starting to dry off, keeping near the doorway as (y/n) went about turning on her heating and starting a small pot of water.

(y/n) sighed, clapping her hands together then taking off her large coat and shoving it in her closet “Well uh, make yourself at home, if you need to call anyone, I do have a landline” Walter hummed again, whatever the hell a landline was. “I dunno how you clean your clothes but I do have a washer n dryer set in the other room, so-if you need to, you can get your stuff dry”

Walter nodded again, shaking his head as he pulled the towel away from his head; sighing as he watched (y/n) move about her apartment, pulling out the couch until it was a full bed “uh, you can take my bed for the night, if you want-I’ll just” she gestured to the bed, and Walter felt a bit…honored? Yes he was a lord and she apparently knew who he was, but she still offered her actual bed over just having him sleep on the couch.

“Thank you, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Walter said with a smooth smile, showing his teeth slightly. He heard (y/n)’s heart rate speed up again and he had to hold back a chuckle, watching as (y/n) turned away from his eyes, her hands tight at her side as she practically rushed back to the kitchen; taking off the top from her pot of now boiling water and tossing in some pasta she had pre-prepared.

“Are you hungry at all? I-I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a bit, but-I do have” she pulled open her fridge, clicking her tongue “…food?” it sounded like a question, as if whatever was in her fridge wasn’t actually food. Walter hummed taking off his button-up and setting it on the towel he had laid out on the edge of the couch. (y/n) glanced back at him, and he heard her breath catch as her eyes caught onto his now exposed arms, a tank top covering his torso. “I could eat”

Which yes, yes he very much could.

“c-cool, uh, is spaghetti and garlic bread okay?” Walter had to hold back a snort at the mention of garlic bread, to this day-he still didn’t know who had started that ‘vampires are deathly allergic to garlic’ thing, in fact-it was one of the few human foods he genuinely enjoyed nowadays.

But still-he nodded to her stuttered question, taking off his belt and setting it with his shirt “do you have any extra clothes I could borrow? I’d rather not stand in a towel for an hour while my clothes dry” Walter hummed out, very much enjoying the flush that appeared on (y/n)’s ears as her shoulders tensed at the idea of him being in nothing but a towel.

“I uh-yes-yes I do, I’ll be right back-could-could you stir the pasta while I do that? Thanks!” she ran to her bedroom before Walter could answer and Walter hummed, walking into the kitchen and stirring the pot of boiling water and spaghetti. He heard a small squeal from (y/n)’s room, to him almost sounding as if it had come from right behind him, chuckling to himself as he heard (y/n) fumble and trip over whatever was in her room-most likely cleaning it up and gathering clothes.

Soon the timer went up and Walter turned the stove off, his hands on his hips as he waited, and hoped, (y/n) would be back out soon and do whatever she needed to do with the pasta. A minute went by, and Walter huffed, taking the pot and pouring it into a strainer, leaving the pasta in the strainer as he went to lean against the kitchen doorway.

“Okay! Okay, took me a minute but-here” (y/n) finally came bounding back into the room, huffing slightly from whatever effort she had put into cleaning her room and finding some clothes; handing him a pair of black sweat pants, and a black t-shirt, along with an unopened pack of boxers. “uh, hopefully, those fit, you-you can either change in the bathroom or the bedroom” (y/n) danced around him and finished up making her pasta, taking the garlic bread out of the oven and starting the sauce.

Walter watched her for a moment, then smirked, he could easily use her little…interest in him, to his advantage. But first, he should change. He went into the bedroom like (y/n) offered, taking off his tank top and pants, sniffing as he peeled the soaked fabric away from his legs. He noticed a towel sitting on the end of the bed and grabbed it, quickly drying his skin before he put the offered clothes on.

As he shoved on the t-shirt, his eyes caught onto a large plastic picture that sat on the inside of (y/n)’s door, and…it…it was-him?? but it wasn’t him, but that was clearly him. “What the fuck?” Walter grumbled, studying the picture closer, narrowing his eyes at the branding in the corner of the picture.

BTB

His eyes drew back up to his face. That was him, or at least-someone who looked exactly like him. something told him, he wasn’t supposed to see this right now; that (y/n) had meant to hide this. His eyes narrowed, (y/n) knew more than she let on; he was going to find out what exactly she knew.

And he knew exactly how he could do that; her attraction was going to be very…helpful, to him.

-

It had been a week since Walter’s arrival, and-you still didn’t know how to explain to yourself; how he got here. Because-in all realities, he shouldn’t. He was a fictional fucking character, played by your favorite male actor Thomas Doherty. Who was in fucking Cincinnati at the moment, and had a beard.

So-Walter fucking Deville, was in your apartment, and you had a feeling; he was onto you knowing more than what you told him. He had been non-stop watching you for the past week, like a hungry tiger waiting for its meal to grow tired, waiting for you to weaken.

Like a vampire waiting for its meal to just-give up.

And it both made you want to shiver in fear, and want. It was no secret to any of your friends, online or otherwise; that you had it bad for the Scottish actor and his characters, and damn there was something about the sadisticness of Walter Deville that Thomas had portrayed, that just made you want to-fuck there your mind went again, right into the gutter.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your head, you had tried to play it cool this last week, attempting to help Walter find the non-existent families that resided in New York. In his world, they probably did very much exist, but here? he was nothing but a character on a screen, with his actor several states away. But the further along he waited for any Alexander, Billington, or Klopstock-to help him get back to England; the more impatient he got. It had only been a week and yet you could see the demon within slowly begin to creep out, his eyes getting darker and darker by the day.

Should you be scared for your life? Probably. Were you? No. were you horny as all fuckin hell for the actual blood-sucking vampire that was taking residence in your apartment? Yes, yes you were, and you were lowkey beating yourself up over it.

You just hoped he hadn’t seen that one Thomas Doherty poster you had forgotten to take down when cleaning up your room; you really only had two others than that one-sexy-ass black-and-white one. Both of them being Harry Hook since-I mean why the hell not?

You sighed, cracking your neck and rolling your shoulders, unlocking the door to your apartment and stepping inside “Walter?” you called out gently, a hint of nervousness seeping into your voice at the darkness that had taken over your living room “I’m home, I brought dinner”

You kneeled down to take off your shoes, setting down your takeout on the couch as you did. When you stood up, there he was, eyes gleaming like the devil. You gasped, choking a bit as his clawed hand took your throat and pushed you against the door.

“W-Walt-“ your voice was cut off at the press of his palm, his fangs gleaming in the dim light that came from your dropped phone. “You,” Walter started, his voice smooth and alluring, but no longer hiding the danger that lurked within “are going to tell me, everything. I’ve gotten tired of playing this little-game, of yours. Now,” he squeezed your throat and you coughed, grabbing his wrist; hoping he would let you go just a little bit. “Talk.”

You just stared at him, his palm still pressed against your throat, keeping your voice from presenting itself. You then patted his hand twice as he glared at you, he sighed “right, you mortals need air” Walter grumbled out, removing his palm but not his hand, keeping his eyes on yours.

You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath before you sighed “what-what exactly do you want to know?” Walter almost looked surprised you were willing to talk, enough to take his hand off your neck and move it to simply press against your collarbone. “you know who I am, How?”

You pursed your lips, how in the fuck were you going to explain multi-dimensional travel to someone who was from the 15th century at the best? When you didn’t know how to even explain it to yourself? “I….you had the ask the toughest question first?” you groaned, letting your head drop slightly, your chin grazing against his hand.

Walter blinked, how would that be the toughest question? “could-could you let me go for a second, I need to grab something” you muttered, and Walter narrowed his eyes, but did as asked, watching you like…well like a hungry vampire as you walked further into the living room and grabbed a particular movie case.

You walked back over to Walter and handed him the case, sighing as he slowly took it; his eyes going wide. “The Invitation?” he muttered, looking down at Evelyn Alexander's face, and his own; two fingers resting against his lips as Evie looked to be mid-transformation, dressed in her soon-to-be wedding attire. “you-you’re from a movie, for me at least” you jumped into explanation, tapping the case, and then going down to the starring description, where his actor’s name sat with Evie’s. “a character from a fictional story inspired by Dracula ‘n all that. It's why you can't find any of the families, they don’t exist here…you’re technically not supposed to exist.”

You pulled out your phone, taking the chance of Walter’s shocked form to look up Thomas Doherty’s Instagram, showing Walter his own actor, and he recognized him as the man from the black and white poster he saw earlier that week before you took it down. “nothing but a character eh?” Walter muttered, looking back down at the movie case, flipping it over in his hands a few times “well….fuck”

His claws and fangs retracted, for once-he felt…helpless, he wasn’t just in New York, he was in a separate dimension from his own; New York. But his questions now changed, because now he knew how you knew him…but the question now was; “Why did you let me into your home? You know what I am” he took a step closer to you, nearly trapping you against the couch, lifting the case into your vision, both sets of his eyes dark “Why would you take such a risk? Hmm?” he knew exactly why you did it now, but he wanted to hear it from your lips.

“i-i-um” you stuttered, your face heating up as Walter got closer, dropping the case as he did so, his arms caging your sides. Walter smirked, tilting his head, his fangs starting to peek out. You stared into his eyes, that ocean blue nearly overtaken by a void of black. You looked away, tucking your chin into your shoulder; your breath shuddering as his clawed fingers took your jaw and gently pulled you back to look you in the eyes “Could it be?” Walter purred, getting even closer, enough to where you could feel his breath on your face “That you have some-feelings, for me? Feelings one shouldn’t have for someone like…me”

He smirked, his fangs fully visible now, he could hear the blood rushing through your body, accumulating in your face and between your thighs. He stuck his knee between your legs, his thigh pressing against your pulsing core. Walter chuckled, tilting his head the other way as he watched your breath stutter and your eyes flicker to his lips “I suppose I should thank you, for giving me such hospitality; taking me in when you knew exactly what I have done, or will do” he leaned even closer, his lips moving towards your ear, fangs grazing your skin.

You huffed, hands reaching up to grab his biceps, squeaking as he rubbed his thigh against you. “Fuck” you huffed, letting your head fall back as Walter trailed his lips against your jaw and upper neck. His teeth grazed your skin and you whimpered, clutching onto his arms. He smirked against you, and hummed before his fangs punctured your skin; his arms wrapping around you as your blood flooded into his mouth, his body humming wonderfully as he ate for the first time since before his arrival.

He could tell you were enjoying this, your body humming with painful pleasure, your hips rocking against his thigh as he drank your blood, satisfying his own need while giving you a taste of your darkest desires. “you like this, you want this, don’t you?” Walter huffed as he pulled away from your neck, everything within him screaming to dive back in, to give you what you both wanted.

You just huffed, eyes closed as your head lugged to the side, a small bit of drool accumulating in the corner of your lips. Walter smirked, releasing your body and stepping back, watching as you caught yourself on the couch. “wh-wha-“ you couldn’t think of any words, your mind a haze of lust and confusion.

Walter just smirked, reaching forward and delicately taking your chin, rubbing his thumb against your skin “just say the words, and I’ll do as you wish~” you huffed, looking into his eyes, and he smirked at yours; fully dilated. You lunged forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you, stopping just before his lips could meet yours “fuck me up, please”

Walter chuckled darkly and kissed you, hard. You could feel his fangs against your bottom lip, gasping as he bit into it gently and pulled, slowly pushing you away from the couch and towards your bedroom. You gasped as he picked you up and tossed you on your bed, on top of you within a blink, his hands exploring your body as his mouth went on your neck, drawing more of your blood into his mouth.

He groaned at the taste; it was nothing like he had before; it felt like when he had tried a raspberry Danish for the first time. Delightful and full of sin, begging him to devour every last morsel. Your hands twitched around his shoulders, wanting to run your fingers through his soft-looking hair; gasping as his hips pressed into yours, a hardness making itself known in his pants.

Gods, it felt like you were dreaming, you were going to fuck one of your fictional crushes, who was a vampire; who was feeding off your blood as he felt you up.

It felt like one of your fanfictions come to life, which-to you-fuck yeah.

Watler pulled away from your neck, getting to work on taking off his top, smirking as you rushed to take off yours, getting caught on your earrings for a moment before it joined Walter's button-up on the floor.

Walter licked his lips, wiping his chin clean of your blood and smearing it on the skin of your breasts, leaning down and sucking the stained skin into his mouth, rolling his hips into yours. He smirked as you moaned softly, his hands easily sneaking around your back and slipping off your bra.

He took a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes and biting the hardened nub softly, his hands explored your thighs, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down, his mouth attached to your breasts all the while.

“you’re fucking delicious” Walter grumbled, his mind starting to haze over with lust and bloodlust, for you. He wouldn’t deny himself; he had been attracted to you upon your sudden introduction; and he was all too happy to oblige to his desires when they met yours all too easily.

“Good to know” you huffed back, finally giving in to that voice in the back of your head and threading your fingers through Walter's hair. Your breath stuttered as he smeared more of your blood on your breasts and lower tummy, sucking and licking it clean as he stuck his clean hand into your underwear, his finger teasing your clit; chuckling as he felt how soaked you already were.

“So fucking wet for me, how long have you imagined this? Imagined me taking you, drinking your blood as I fucked you” his hand stained with your blood closed around your neck, pressing just enough for you to feel it but not to cut off your airflow. You stared up at him, your face feeling hotter than it ever had with any other dude or woman you had been with. “With how warm your body is, how fast your heart is, with each catch of your breath” his hand trailed down your body, the other still playing with your clit, slowly dragging down till they mean your dripping entrance. “you’ve been wanting this since you first saw me~ am I right? Naughty girl~”

You scrunched your face a bit, covering it with your arm and holding back a scream of cringe. It definitely sent butterflies through your tummy but also-damn did that sound so fucking weird. Walter couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction, he noted that you had less of a wanted reaction to that and more of a ‘please never say that again’ reaction.

Walter took your now bare leg, leaning down and kissing your thigh, pressing his lips against it, his fangs grazing your skin before he bit in; moaning as your taste flooded his mouth again. You groaned, sparks of pained pleasure running down your spine. “fuck” you grumbled, leaning up on your elbows as you watched Walter indulge himself on you with half-lidded eyes.

He pulled away with a near struggled gasp, licking your new wound clean and then kissing the curve of your knee, grinning down at you as you watched him with blown pupils. Faster than you could blink, he was on your cunt, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard; you bucked your hips with a loud curse, your legs locking around his back as his fingers slipped inside with no resistance. His nails were normal thank the gods, the pads of his fingers finding that spot and curling into it as he dutifully licked and sucked your clit, sending shocks through your navel and spine.

You tried to cover your mouth to hide the noises that were coming from you, but Walter grabbed your wrist and moved it back to his hair; pulling away from your clit to growl out a few words “no hiding” he huffed out, chin and mouth soaked with you.

His hands grabbed your hips, diving back into your cunt and eating you out as if you were going to be his final meal. You let your moans flow freely now, your hands threading through Walter's dark hair as if he was your anchor; feeling that coil in your gut tighten with each flick on your clit, every press against your g-spot, warmth flooding your body and face until everything snapped.

Your stomach contracted, legs pressing against either side of Walter’s head as you came; vision going white and hearing going out. “FUCK!” you breathed out loudly, panting as Walter gave a final few flicks on your clit with his tongue to guide you through your orgasm, sitting up with a proud smirk.

Your legs were moved to sit on either side of his hips as he moved up your body, his hands tracing your sides as he snuck up to your face, kissing your neck bite before he kissed you, forcing you to taste your cum and blood.

A bit gross, but gods with how fucked your head was right now, it was hot. You watched through half-lidded eyes as Walter stripped his pants, choking on your breath as his long and thick cock made itself known, a bead of precum trailing down the veined shaft. He chuckled at your reaction, stroking himself as he enjoyed your eyes trailing every bit of his body.

He sat back on his heels as you reached back towards your nightstand, pulling the drawer out with some difficulty and grabbing a handful of condoms “i-uh-size?” you squeaked out, holding up several different sizes of condoms; Walter chuckled, he had become infertile upon his transformation but it was better safe than sorry. He took the appropriate condom and ripped the packaging open with his teeth, sliding the condom on and then grabbing your legs.

“Let's get into the good stuff, shall we?” Walter purred, his fangs and lips stained with your blood. You huffed, biting your lip as Walter took himself and aligned his cock with your cunt, groaning as he pushed into your heated and soaking entrance. “Fuck!“ you gasped, your hands reaching out and grabbing his shoulders, cheeks blazing hot as Walter slowly pulled back out, chuckling as your cunt clenched tightly around him; as if trying to keep him inside.

“Fuck, you’re so warm” Walter grumbled, setting one hand on your hip and the other on your tummy, beginning a slow and sensual pace, his hips meeting yours every few seconds. You gasped and moaned with each push and pull of his hips, he felt so big inside you; another painful pleasure that soon bleed into wonderful pleasure.

His pace picked up slightly, his eyes on your chest as it bounced with his hips, your blood had dried along your skin by now, though it shimmered with his spit and your sweat. Your hands grabbed his wrist that connected to his hand on your tummy, your body so warm underneath him. “ah-ah-fuck-shit-fuck-ah-ahhh!”

Walter hummed, a low growl in his voice, leaning down to press his body against yours, taking your earlier bite wound in his mouth and sucking hard, reopening the marks and letting your sinfully delicious blood into his mouth. You moaned loudly, clearly enjoying the feeling of being fucked and fed on at the same time. Walter chuckled, rutting his hips into you, licking his lips as he pulled away from your neck.

“so fucking warm, and wet-so fucking delicious,” Walter growled, his claws pressing into your soft skin, not puncturing but it would leave a mark. “I think I’ll keep you,” Walter muttered, enjoying the whimper that came from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust. “doll you up, make you my little plaything, give you all you desire~” he was rambling now, just letting his mouth(more like his dick) speak its mind.

He took your breast into his mouth, his fangs breaking the skin and allowing more of your blood to flow into his mouth. You felt that coil snap, a loud and broken moan spilling from your lips as you came from his words and bite; clenching down on his cock as you did. Walter groaned at the feeling, his hips stuttering as he felt himself get to that peak, your hands running through his hair and scratching his scalp sending him over the edge.

His hips pressed firmly into yours, coming into the condom, a small string of old-world curse words spilling from his lips that were still attached to your bloodied breast. You both laid there for a few moments, one breathing heavily as the other took a few deep breaths then sat themselves up, Walter chuckling at the mess he made; with not just your blood, but of you in general.

You were covered in blood and bite marks, your legs twitching as you came down from your high. “Fuck” you croaked out, slowly reaching up to your face to rub it as Walter pulled out, taking off the condom, tying it, and tossing it in the trash.

“So what do you say?” Walter asked gently, leaning down to clean the wounds he had made, his fangs and claws still fully visible. You furrowed your brows, opening your eyes to see Walter licking your chest clean, his eyes dark as a midnight ocean. You wondered what he meant before you remember his small ramble from only moments before; ‘I think I’ll keep you, doll you up, make you my little plaything, give you all you desire~’

“You-you were serious?” you asked quietly, feeling so very tired; most likely from him feeding, but also from the tiring activity. Walter hummed with a nod, cleaning your neck next, kissing the set of puncture wounds before he made his way down to your thigh. “why-why me? I mean-you-you’re probably waiting for-for Evie, right? I-“ Walter’s eyes flashed up to you, flickering dangerously.

You watched him for a moment, licking your swollen lips; before sighing “I’m just…some girl from New York, I don’t have special blood or anything I just….I’m just-normal-not special.” Walter laughed, as if you said something so preposterous! His head was thrown back, his fangs gleaming in the dim light of your room, your blood dripping down his chin and neck.

“not special?” Walter cooed, leaning down and softly biting your jaw, his hands curling up your arms; gently squeezing you “oh darling, you are far from that-foolish yes, you took in a man you knew to be a monster-but you are far from normal, for that same reason. And you must know; I do have a fondness for exquisite art pieces” Walter finished with a hum, leaning over you with enchanting eyes, hoping his words would sway you to accept his proposal.

He knew it wasn’t love, he hadn’t had the ability to since before his turn; but he did want to keep you, to give you pretty dresses, keep you fed, happy, warm, like a precious art piece to be admired and kept well. “You will be protected, you will never have to worry for anything ever again, food, money, anything; all you have to do-is say yes” Walter whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

You stared back at him, chest rising heavily as you took in his dark ocean eyes. “and-and what will you get in return?” you whispered, looking at his bloodstained lips for a moment, taking a sharp breath as Walter smirked dangerously “simple, you will keep me fed, and I get to fuck you as I wish-of course-when you are feeling the same; even demons need consent”

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering about your room; were you actually going to do this? Abandon your life to become a prized possession of the Walter Deville? A man named for the devil? A vampire?

“if I say yes” you whispered, feeling his lips brush against yours as you looked back at him “how-how are we even going to get back to your world?” Walter just hummed, he just-had a feeling-once you gave your answer, he would soon be returned home.

Something told him that’s why he had been sent there in the first place, a lesson of sorts-for what? he didn’t know, but he didn’t care. he just wanted you.

You pouted a bit at his non-answer, letting your head fall back into your pillow as Walter’s mouth explored your jaw and neck. You would be leaving behind…a lot, you would think. Three jobs, your nice coworkers that had become friends, your few family members you were still in contact with, the apartment you had worked so hard for; and your potential future.

…eh-fuck it-this world was going to shit anyway-might as well enjoy it with a devilishly handsome vampire who was gonna treat you like a fancy feast to enjoy over a long period of time. “okay” you finally whispered, smiling as Walter sat up quickly, his eyes almost surprised “I accept”

Walter grinned, dangerous yet excited, and kissed you; his hands cradling your jaw as he did. You huffed slightly as he pulled away, watching as he stood and nearly skipped into your bathroom, grabbing a few washcloths and getting them damp with warm water; returning with that same grin. You smiled back, letting him clean you up and attend to your multiple bite marks.

You had a feeling that this aftercare was only a preview for how you were to be treated within New Carfax Abbey. You swayed slightly as the blood loss started rearing its ugly head, watching with slightly blurred vision as Walter put his underwear and pants back on; leaving your room only to return with some apple juice and your takeout.

“drink, eat” he whispered, looking human once more as you obeyed his soft command. After you ate and drank, you felt much better-still tired-but better. “sleep, I’ll be here in the morning” Walter said, not a command-simply a suggestion, moving to lie next to you in your full bed, pulling you to lie halfway on his chest, his arm going under your pillow.

For a man who couldn’t feel love, he knew how to give illusion to it.

You hummed against him, letting your body relax and fall into the void of sleep. You wondered what would happen to your stuff when you went to leave this world with him.

Walter gazed down at you, his fingers caressing your cheek and jaw; he wondered how such a human-like you had somehow cracked his dead heart open and made her own little spot inside. Again, he knew he wasn’t in love, but in lust-but, he felt such a fondness for you. One he hadn’t felt since he was human.

His mind wandered back to that thought he had earlier, of him being in this world was a lesson for something. Maybe this was that lesson, learning to be human again. He smirked at the thought-why would he want to be human, when the human in his arms was happy enough with a monster?

As Walter closed his eyes to join you in sleep, thunder and lightning rolled in from the night sky, a flash of lightning overtaking his vision before everything faded out.

-

Your eyes opened to a much large bed; the spot next to you a faded warmth. You sat up, rubbing your eyes as the morning sun beamed through the almost closed curtains of the grand room. You were in the manor, you had to be-this room was nearly as big as your apartment kitchen and living room combined.

“He kept his word” you yawned out, stretching slightly, your arms plopping over your head as you noticed the very familiar items that sat around the room. All of which being items that had been in your room back in your apartment. “Cool” you muttered, so you got to keep your stuff, that was very much a plus.

You perked up as the door opened, Walter stepping in as quietly as he could, a silver tray in his hands. He smirked when he saw you were awake, his fangs visible. “Good morning, and before you ask; no, I don’t know how we got back or how your stuff is here, but, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth” Walter chuckled, walking over to your side of the queen-sized bed and resting the tray filled with breakfast food on the nightstand.

You hummed in agreement, looking up as his fingers grazed your chin, closing your eyes to accept his kiss “Eat, I will not feed from you again until you have regained what I have taken” you hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for Walter to step back slightly before eagerly digging into the food he had brought you.

“I have told Viktoria and Lucy about you, just so they don’t go after you thinking you’re a regular…feeder” Walter muttered, voice suddenly all business as he stood and went about making sure the suite you had ended up in was good enough. You hummed, pursing your lips at the thought of Viktoria. Lucy? Gods, you would be ecstatic to meet her. But Viktoria very much seemed like a woman who did not want to share, and even with a warning from Walter- she would kill you the first chance she got for you taking just a bit of Walter's time from her.

“If Viktoria does try anything, tell me immediately, she's been” Walter struggled to find the word, walking back over to you and taking your cheek, his eyes off into a random corner as his thumb caressed your skin. You looked up at him, still happily eating the food you had been given. “Getting too comfortable being defiant towards me. She has yet to realize she's easily replaceable compared to the Alexander brides, I’m pretty sure several of the Klopstock girls have offered their hand.”

You snorted at the thought, couching as a bit of food went down your windpipe but you easily cleared it as Walter glanced down at you “Don’t die on me now, you just got here” you laughed at his almost not a joke, making Walter smile as you shook your head and said; “don’t plan to, I’ll be here as long as you allow me”

Walter looked very happy at the notion and kissed the top of your head “Wonderful, now; what style of dress do you like?”

-end-

Okay-I had-so much fun with this request????? Like-I thought I was gonna have some trouble with it but DAMN the words just flowed after I got past the first quarter, im very happy with the spice and the after bit as well~~~~ onto the next one!

 taglist????? again-i dunno who wants to be perm tagged for smut-yall like-gotta tell me this shit okay?? not a mind reader

but @crazy4books1​ 

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[bloodycassian]

Az x reader. Part 3 of ‘tension’ fic where reader helps fight in the library. Azriel keeps trying to dig deeper on readers powers.

Rhysand moved pawns across the map on the table. Cassian watched, dread filling his gut with every new pawn his brother summoned. 

"Do you have any other insights?" Rhys muttered, not looking toward Azriel leaning on the wall. The lavender curtains billowed on the balcony of the war room, as if they sensed the turmoil in the room. There was a storm brewing, Az could feel it in his bones. The chill it brought to the wind. The way his shadows clung closer to his body like a protective layer. 

Az shook his head, wishing he had any clue what the new forces were doing. How they had even showed up on the northern border of the night court. His blood thrummed to protect, protect, protect his home.The shadows seemed irritated with him, whispering at him louder and louder. Growing restless. 

"If they take the Illyrian steppes they'll be in for quite the surprise. It may buy us time." Cassian said softly, dragging a finger down the edge of the map. Rhys blew out a long breath. 

"I know you're both doing your best. I need every piece of information possible. We need to know how they're taking the magic from those walls." He glanced to his shadowmaster. Azriel's heart sank. He was doing his cauldron's best to find out all he could. He didnt bother to put up the fight with Rhys. "Cassian we need the Illyrians to be ready. Have them stationed at the outposts as far north as they can go." His brother nodded. Rhys sighed deeply again. He looked tired. 

"The beast in the library turned to ash. Went north. Could be a coincidence... or not..." Azriel muttered, offering the only damned thing he knew. 

The rest of the night proceeded similarly, comparing information back and forth until they were tired.

+ "You look like shit." You said, part laughing but another half genuinely concerned. Azriel was slowly pulling his training sword from the rack. A small grin passed over his features. 

"A Valkyrie in training should know better than to insult a better opponent." He said, inspecting the nick marks on the edge of the sword. It was a hardwood, light enough to simulate a real blade but dull so it didnt cut. His eyes narrowed at the blade, then turned on you.

"I wanted to try it." You said guiltily. "Gwyn insisted!" You tried to defend from that prying stare. He shook his head menacingly. 

"This deserves a heavy punishment." His voice was low, almost a growl. It made your toes curl in your boots. Heat rise to your cheeks in the bright morning sun.  He struck your shield fast as lightning. And you set off into training. A dance of swords clashing and heavy breathing. Relentless, focused and  it would have been deadly if you used real blades. By the end you were exhausted, only able to weakly hold up your shield against his attacks.  + "Are you a habitual liar or is it just for fun?" Az asked, washing his sweaty face off in the drink station at the corner of the ring. Shame and anger panged in your stomach. "I told you I didnt lie."

"Sorry, omitted information - as you call it." He shook his hair out, sending droplets flying at you. You wiped your face and gave him a look. He shrugged and towled out his hair. His muscles shone in the afternoon light. He had been brutal the entire training session. Your hands stung with the new blisters forming from your sword and shield. 

You dunked your face and hair next, the cold water shocking you slightly. Waking you up from the slump you were feeling coming on. "Why would I tell a spy everything about me?" You sniped back at him, catching the towel he threw your way. It smelled like him, overwhelmingly. Your head spun. 

Azriel hid his amused smile when he saw Cassian's dark wings loomed above. He nodded at his brother when he landed in the center of the ring. "Ready for round two, Valkyrie?" Cassian picked up your sword from where you had abandoned it at the edge of the ring. 

You gave him a glare and he laughed. He flipped your sword in his hand like it was a toy. "Not a Valkyrie yet. I haven't cut the ribbon." You corrected him, trudging over and picking up your shield. It was definitely heavier than before. Your muscles begged you to put it down. 

"Who needs a ribbon when you have light powers?" Cassian laughed, swinging your sword in the ring. You felt your cheeks heat. You just couldnt get them off your back about it. Azriel crossed his arms over his chest, grinning smugly.  "I didnt ask for them. Give me my sword so I can go home." You growled, holding your hand out expectantly. 

Cassian's face was a mix of confusion and his usual amusement when he turned back to you, holding your sword out on both hands and lowering his head. Honorable. You wanted to hit him with it. 

Azriel seemed to appear from nowhere by the weapons rack. You didnt hear him approach. "Born with immense power, awful attitude...are you sure you're not Illyrian?" Cassian flicked your ear and you would have snatched it from him if you weren't so exhausted. Az held back a grin, knowing well that you were not in the mood. You leaned your weapon on the rack and held an arm out to Azriel. "Get me away from this war mongering beast please." You sighed, finally getting that full smile from him.

"Beast." Cassian laughed, "That's what Nes-" Azriel took off with you before you could hear the rest. You blocked what he was about to say from your memory. You groaned against the strain flying took. You arms felt like dead weight around Az's neck.

His scent was overpowering. Absolutely intoxicating. You tried to breath away from him, tried not to lean your head further on his shoulder to get to the core of that sweetness. His hair tickled your arm and you fought not to melt into him. It didnt help when he adjusted his grip to hold you closer. 

Azriel's thoughts were muddled. The training had been tough, even for him. He tried focusing on the information you'd revealed to Cassian, but your scent was overpowering to him. He noted the pointed effort you made to not look at him. How your arms shook slightly around his neck. He told himself it was from the effort of training. The exhaustion setting in. It did nothing to quell his adrenaline pumping at the thought of the reaction being from him. 

He landed with a grunt. His hands were stiff, but thankfully no cramping after the flight. The front door of your apartment had a bright red envelope on it. 

 "Guardian" scrawled out on the back of it made your mind spin. How had anyone beyond the library known? Did they actually know or was this just a new nickname? 

"Someone was here it seems." Azriel said, folding his hands behind his back. His shadows dispatched to the area came back with nothing of use. No footprints, no scent, nothing left behind from whoever left the note. Concern grew when he watched as you flipped the envelope over. The wax seal was a dark purple, stamped with what looked to be a lion's head. "What is it?" He asked, trying to sound unconcerned. 

You seemed to snap out of a trance. You quickly pulled yourself together. He couldnt know, he couldnt suspect anything of it. You had to be sure he didn't think a thing of the formal letter waiting in that envelope. You knew your homeland well enough to know this wasn't a simple greeting card. 

"It's nothing, probably my landlord bitching again." You shrugged, turning your key in the deadbolt. He nodded, but still waited. As if waiting for an invitation inside. You heart sang to do so. The letter felt like a weight in your hand. You made your way inside as normal as you could. Trying to hide your shaking hands.

"Late training tomorrow?" You said with a sheepish grin, leaning in the doorway. He stepped back, understanding the body language. Smirking, he only shook his head. "We'll see. I'll be at your window if you dont answer the door though."  And with that he was gone. 

You were left alone with the deafening silence of your apartment. The letter smacked onto the table like a lead weight. You swore the sound echoed. 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part One

Nessian Modern AU

Summary: Nesta Archeron isn't good with change. When her car breaks down in the middle of a storm and her sister sends one of her friends to pick her up, Nesta thinks there could be nothing worse than having to spend the night with a total stranger. Until she suddenly finds herself without an apartment. Despite only a night of knowing Nesta, Cassian is quick to offer her a room in his cabin free of charge, and Nesta, broke and without many social contacts, has no choice but to accept.

A/N: This fic is loosely inspired by @lady-therion 's fic Close Quarters. I couldn't stop thinking about Nesta and Cassian sitting in front of a fire, slowly getting to know each other, so this fic is a whole lot of that :) There's no strict plot structure to this so I'm not sure how long it's gonna be, but expect warm and fuzzy content in the beginning. Enjoy!

Masterlist

***

Cassian is in bed when he gets the text.

Feyre: hey i know it's late but i need you to do a huuuge favor for me

Feyre: i really hope you're not asleep yet

Cassian furrows his brows in concern, immediately thumbing back a text.

Cass: what's wrong?

Feyre takes a long minute to type back; wind howls and rain thrashes against his window while he waits. A long message finally appears.

Feyre: you know the shortcut through the woods off of main st? my sister's car broke down there and there's no 24/7 towing around. im all the way in velaris and won't be able to get there for another two hours, but i dont want her waiting in the woods in the middle of the night like murder bait. she's too proud to ask for help, but if you could go and pick her up that would mean a lot to me, please.

At the last sentence, Cassian immediately knows which sister Feyre is talking about. He glances out his window and curses under his breath. It's storming hell outside, and Nesta Archeron is sitting in a broken car in the middle of the woods somewhere.

He's already grabbed his keys and stuffed his feet into shoes when he realizes he never answered Feyre's text. He types out a short on my way and heads out the front door of the cabin, assaulted by rain and wind before he's even fully outside.

Cassian follows the location Feyre sends him, what should be a five minute drive taking almost fifteen in the storm.

Cassian has interacted with the oldest Archeron sister maybe twice in his three years of knowing Feyre. Once for an initial family meeting, where she gave a terse hello upon introduction to Cassian and his friends, before ignoring everybody for the rest of the dinner, and another time when he accidentally bumped into her as she was leaving Feyre's apartment. He remembers apologizing profusely, only to be given a weird look before she turned and left.

In summary, Cassian knows enough about Nesta to know that this won't be the most fun task he's ever been given. Still, he isn’t about to leave any woman rotting on the side of an empty road at this hour, in this weather.

There’s so much rain that he almost misses the car. His headlights catch on a lump of metal, and he slowly brings the truck to a stop. Throwing the gear in park, Cassian flips his hood over his head and runs out into the rain.

She’s already waiting for him when he reaches the car, standing in the freezing rain in nothing but a drenched sweater and jeans.

His first real words to Nesta Archeron come out surprisingly easy: “What the hell are you doing here?” he yells over the torrent.

“Making sure you could see me,” she shouts back. “You drive like a blind dog!”

Whatever Cassian says back gets lost in the rain, but soon he's ushering Nesta over to his truck and slamming the passenger door shut behind her. He returns to the driver's seat, Nesta audibly shuddering beside him.

He flips the air vents blowing hot air towards her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

Even soaked and freezing, Nesta summons up the energy to glare. “So you could run me over with your truck? No, thanks.”

“That’s an overreaction.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to reply. Silence fills the truck for a couple of minutes as Cassian tries to maneuver them out of the small backroad, carefully turning back for his cabin. There’s no way he can get Nesta back to her place tonight, and he suspects his phone notifications are already full of flash flood warnings.

Finally, he says, “I’m Cassian, by the way.”

Nesta looks at him like he’s stupid. “I know who you are.”

That takes him a little by surprise, but he only murmurs, “Okay, then.” He wonders how much Feyre told her sister about how this was going to go.

“We’re getting my car picked up first thing tomorrow,” Nesta says into the silence, “and Feyre will take me home so you don’t have to bother yourself.”

“It’s not a bother,” he responds a little too quickly. She only gives him another weird look, like she’s judging him to hell and back, and Cassian decides to quit speaking forever.

By the grace of some higher power, the drive back is faster than the drive to. The pounding of rain only gets heavier as Cassian pulls up to the house, until it becomes an unmistakable thunk. Nesta’s eyes shoot to the roof of the car. “What’s that,” she says sharply. Everything she says is sharp; he wonders if she does it consciously or not.

Another thunk hits the car, this time the windshield. Cassian sighs deeply at the ice assaulting the truck from all sides. “Hail,” he says, resigned with this whole night.

He and Nesta end up making another mad dash to the door, trying not to get hit by increasingly larger chunks of ice as they go. Nesta has a backpack that she holds close to her chest instead of using for protection from the hail, as if it’s a baby.

Once safely inside the cabin, she doesn’t let go of her grip on her bag as she looks around his home. “Nice place,” she breathes, eyeing the exposed wooden beams and towering glass windows. An iron-wrought chandelier lights up the main living area they’re in, lightning occasionally casting twisted shadows across the walls.

Cassian almost apologizes for it, before deciding that apologizing for having too nice of a house is one of those things that would earn him another weird look from Nesta. “Bathrooms are that way,” he says instead, pointing down the main hall. “I can get you some dry clothes…”

She’s already nodding sharply and heading for the bathroom, leaving Cassian to stand awkwardly in the entryway, soaked to the bone in the same sweats he was about to go to sleep in just an hour ago.

Upstairs, after changing into blissfully dry clothes, it takes Cassian a good five minutes to decide which of his shirts will work best for Nesta’s slim figure.

When he finally returns downstairs with sweats four times Nesta’s size, she snatches them out of his hands without a word and slams the bathroom door shut on his face. He stands there a moment longer, nods resolutely, and heads for the kitchen to whip up a hot beverage. Cassian has a feeling he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

A couple of minutes later, Nesta appears in the kitchen doorway, looking hesitant and absolutely dwarfed in Cassian’s gray sweats. Somehow, she’s made the pants work, likely by rolling them up a hundred times.

Cassian’s eyes widen for a moment, realizing this is the longest look he’s gotten at Nesta since… well, since he first met her.

He remembers thinking she was stunning at that initial dinner at Feyre’s house all those years ago, but damn, he must have forgotten just how much. Because even messy and rumpled, Cassian can’t stop staring at her.

Nesta breaks the silence first. “Is that hot chocolate?” The hard edge has mostly left her voice, like the warm clothes have soothed her frayed nerves from the car ride.

“Um.” Cassian glances down at the steaming mug in his hands. “Yeah. You want some?” he offers before he can check himself.

Nesta further surprises him by nodding, tucking her sweater paws under her armpits. The position would look vulnerable and reserved on most people, but on her it’s just another fortification to her stiff demeanor. Cassian slides his mug over the marble island to her before starting on another drink for himself.

Feeling an urge to fill the silence while he works, Cassian babbles, “The guest rooms are upstairs. You can have your choice, but the master bedroom is mine, obviously.” He pours melted chocolate into a mug and grabs for cinnamon.

Nesta watches him move with her unnerving hawk eyes and nods slowly, taking careful sips from her mug. “I think I’m going to stay up and study for my midterms,” she finally responds. “You mind if I use your fancy living room?”

Cassian almost smiles at that. “The whole house is fancy,” he says. “But yeah, go for it.”

He’s surprised at how nice this feels. Not that having Feyre’s scary older sister over isn’t weird for him, but… having another presence in the cabin, especially at this late hour— it’s warm where Cassian’s nights are usually cold.

***

It’s past two in the morning when Nesta finally glances up from her laptop screen, eyes bleary and unable to take in another word of theoretical law. She’s rubbing her hands down her face when a sudden clap of thunder booms outside the cabin windows, making her nearly fall off the couch. “Christ,” she swears, unconsciously curling into herself.

“Scared of thunder?”

Nesta internalizes her surprise at the unexpected voice and glances up to see Cassian coming down the stairs, looking as awake as he did when he went to bed over an hour ago. Nesta becomes terribly aware of the state she’s in and has to fight to maintain her composure.

She peeled off Cassian’s oversized sweatpants as soon as he went upstairs, not having been able to take a step without almost tripping, and made up for the coldness of her bare legs by dragging the fur throw off the back of his leather couch and using it as a blanket.

“That's usually for decoration, you know.” Cassian gestures at the thick fur.

Embarrassment claws up her throat, for coming into this strange man’s house and taking his nice things and using them incorrectly. Her first instinct is to apologize, but the only thing she hates more than embarrassment is the word sorry. “I thought you were asleep,” she says instead.

Cassian only shakes his head as he takes a seat on the far end of the couch. “Sleep and I aren't friends tonight. I was thinking about watching a movie, but if you're still studying—”

Nesta quickly shuts her laptop, shaking her head. “I was just about to go upstairs,” she says, packing her things into her backpack. Despite the day she’s had and how heavy her eyelids are, she knows she won’t be able to sleep with the sporadic thunder still booming. She wants to ask Cassian if he has noise-canceling earplugs, but the last thing she wants is to inconvenience him further.

The fur throw slips off her as she stands, revealing her bare legs. She might be wearing the largest, least sexy sweater of all time, so she doesn’t know why she suddenly feels naked in front of Cassian. Risking a glance at the man himself, he only takes his eyes off the TV remote in his hand to say, “You can leave the pants behind if you don’t need them.”

Right. She neatly folded his sweats as soon as she took them off earlier, and now they sit patiently on the coffee table.

“It gets a little drafty at night,” Cassian adds, “but I stocked your room with blankets. It’s the second door on the left; I hope you don’t mind that I chose for you.”

Nesta distantly remembers him saying she could have her pick of bedroom. “I don’t care,” she says honestly. “But— thanks.” She clasps her bag to her chest and shuffles towards the stairs, only stopping at the foot of them when she remembers not to be rude. “Goodnight,” she calls out awkwardly, trying not to race up the stairs as she hears him say goodnight back.

Cassian’s cabin is without a doubt gorgeous, but Nesta still feels a little shock of surprise when she finds her designated room. Decked out with a four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows, it’s nicer than any place Nesta’s ever stayed in before.

A bright flash of lightning fills the room, and Nesta’s shoulders immediately bunch up to her ears— the preparation doesn’t make the ensuing clap of thunder any less heart-thumping. Withholding a weary sigh, she moves to draw the thick curtains over the windows, hoping to add a barrier between herself and the storm. It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Nesta dials Feyre’s number for the third time, growing more irritated by the second. It’s eight a.m., but Feyre is supposed to be picking Nesta up before noon so she can take her car in and return home to her shitty basement apartment.

Finally, the line clicks. “Hello?” a groggy voice drawls over the phone.

“When are you coming?” Nesta demands.

“Uh, what?” Feyre still sounds like she’s waking up. Nesta could hiss.

“You promised you’d be here first thing today, Feyre. I can’t hang around at your friend’s place all day. I want to wear my own clothes and use my own toothbrush.”

“Oh, that,” Feyre says. “Listen, can you just have Cassian take you home?”

“Feyre—”

“I know you hate interacting with strangers, but he’s one of my best friends. It’s a two-hour drive up to the mountains, Nesta,” she speaks as if she’s trying to reason with a kindergartener.

Frustration boils up in Nesta, feelings that she’s in too much disbelief to put words to right now. Her jaw works, and all she ends up spitting is, “You promised.”

“You’re being dramatic. I’m going back to sleep now, call me when you get home safe.” Over the line, Nesta can hear mumbling— probably Feyre’s boyfriend waking up.

Nesta has to hang up before she says something she’ll be made to regret. Her fingers are bone-white around her phone, and she releases a restrained shriek before flinging her phone at the bed.

Still pissed but just a little mollified after the release of energy, Nesta takes a deep breath and heads downstairs to get breakfast.

Cassian is in the kitchen when she enters, sipping from a cup of coffee and watching another one brew in the coffee maker. His eyes are ringed with tired circles, proving he got about as much sleep as Nesta did the night before, but he seems content. She doesn’t miss his quick glance at her still-bare legs before his eyes flick up to her. “Good morning,” he offers with a quiet smile.

Nesta didn’t know Cassian was capable of such quietness— it’s a stark difference from how he is with Feyre and his friends, and maybe the nicest surprise she’s received since this shitty weekend began.

She cuts straight to it. “Feyre’s not coming,” she says, trying to gauge how he’ll react to this new inconvenience. “She told me to let you take me home.”

“I know,” is all Cassian says. His brow furrows when he sees her obvious disappointment. “She called me last night. Didn’t she tell you?”

Nesta’s hands curl under the long sleeves of Cassian’s sweatshirt, but she only shakes her head once. She’s distantly aware that she’s overreacting about a simple car ride, but nothing can take away her discomfort at asking favors from people she barely knows.

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, she says stiffly, “I want to wear my own clothes again.” Is that a good addition to the discussion? She genuinely can’t remember the last time she interacted with a man for non-work related purposes.

Cassian’s eyes light up and he sets down his coffee. “That reminds me, I put your clothes through the laundry this morning. They might still be warm from the dryer.”

Nesta wants to sag in relief at the first good news she’s gotten all morning. She follows Cassian’s directions to the laundry room and almost hugs her neatly folded clothes. While she changes into her clothes from the night before, she makes a list of today’s activities in her head:

1) Eat breakfast. Keep it quick and keep interactions with Cassian to a minimum, but don’t seem ungrateful.

2) Drive to her ancient rustbucket of a car. Make sure it’s okay after the hail and call the towing company.

3) Let Cassian drop her home.

4) Return to her room and not leave for a week.

Nesta sighs as her blue sweater settles around her frame. Only four tasks; it’s achievable enough.

Her first task is relatively easy. She wishes Cassian wouldn’t talk so much, because sometimes she doesn’t know what to say in return, but she also finds that she likes what she has to say. His opinion on the horror movie he watched last night doesn’t make her want to crawl out of the nearest window.

Cassian keeps breakfast short and gets them in the car by nine. It’s only after they’ve dialed a tow truck and Cassian kindly withholds judgment at Nesta’s faded blue lump of metal she calls a car that she gets the call.

It’s from her tenant, or rather, the nice elderly lady who lets Nesta live in her basement-turned-apartment.

“Lorene?” Nesta answers, confused.

“Oh, hun,” the woman answers, and from the sympathy in her voice, Nesta tenses up. “I headed downstairs this morning to check for mold and the rain...the whole basement’s flooded. There must have been a leak or something wrong with the entrance door, but I tried to grab as many of your things before I left.”

Nesta closes her eyes. Presses a forceful hand to her chest and tries to take calming breaths. “O-okay,” she says. “What does that mean, what do I do next?”

Cassian gives her a concerned look from where he leans against his truck. She ignores him.

“I’m getting the basement cleaned out and fixed as soon as I can, but the water damage looks pretty bad. The floors are probably gonna have to be replaced, and I don't know if insurance will cover this.”

She thinks of all her books and valuables in that apartment, taken out by the storm last night.

“You're going to have to find a new place to stay, hun. Most likely for a while.”

Nesta is on the verge of full-out panicking, but the last thing she needs is to have a breakdown in front of Feyre’s best friend. She clenches her fist so hard it hurts, and the bite of her nails takes away the sharp edge of her panic.

She breathes deep, but finally says, “I can do that.” She doesn't know if she can.

After a few more apologies from Lorene, Nesta finally hangs up, only to turn and brace her hands against the roof of her car.

“Everything alright?” Cassian asks slowly.

She needs a place to stay. Her mind works rapidly, going through the short, short list of people she might be able to ask for a bed to sleep on. Coming up empty, she moves on to the next option: motels.

Does she even have the money—?

“Nesta?” Cassian repeats. “What's going on?”

“I’m fine,” she says out loud, still not facing him. “I just need to break the bank a little and find a new place to stay, but it’ll be fine.”

“Find a new place to stay? What do you mean?” A light hand touches her elbow, and she whirls around in alarm. Cassian holds his hands up in placation. “Sorry, sorry,” he says.

Red-hot embarrassment creeps up Nesta’s cheeks. She’s losing it in front of this completely nice stranger—

She reins herself in, tries to remember things like common sense and social etiquette. “It’s okay,” she breathes out. “It’s really nothing. My apartment got flooded during the storm and I need to find a place to stay, and I’m upset, but I’ll get over it.” She nods resolutely, like the grown adult she is. Like she can afford to fix her car and pay for lodging at the same time.

Cassian considers her silently for a long moment, and Nesta thinks he must still be freaked out by her near-breakdown, when he finally says, “Well, you can always stay at my place.”

Her eyes might pop out of her head. “What? No. No.”

“Why not?” He turns hesitant. “Unless you have somewhere else to stay?”

Nesta’s silence is answer enough. She sees his gaze flip from questioning to determined and rushes to change his mind. “I won’t do that to you— I hate asking for favors and I hate making people go out of their way for me even more.” She sounds so forceful it comes off as harsh, which is all the better for convincing Cassian not to make her stay at his cabin.

“I have a feeling you hate a lot of things, Nesta.” He doesn’t back down. “You’re Feyre’s sister; the least I can offer you is free lodging.” After a moment, he adds, “Please.”

Nesta wants to laugh; he’s pleading with her to let her invade his home life. All because she’s Feyre’s sister. The reasoning leaves a bitter taste in her throat, but she doesn’t have the energy to argue with it. Not as the tow truck finally appears at the end of the road, driving up towards them. Cassian only looks at her. Decide now, he says silently.

Nesta exhales deeply through her nose. “Fine,” she grits. So much for getting through the day with her sanity unscathed.

***

Part Two

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla

[lilyharvord]

OKAY WAIT I LOVE YOUR CORIANE THOUGHTS!! i never really put much thought into marecal kids besides reading the epilogue or fanfics and being like okay cute. but your headcannon about the political impact of calore children with red blood is so interesting and i 100% agree with you. if you have any further ideas or writing i would love to hear it! the way the world world and silver succession would adjust/react to cal’s abdication and marecal’s relationship post broken throne is so fascinating to me.

🥺 NONNIE, I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

First of all, Cal's abdication is the biggest slap in the face to the Silver Secession (particularly Larentia who I headcanon leads the whole thing like a shadow puppeteer. Her husband died trying to keep that Calore brat on the throne, you can bet she's got two bones to pick with him even though she wants him on that non-existent throne just so they can go back to the "old ways"). They took him abdicating personally. They send him letters almost weekly, and they are all super passive aggressive comments about his birthright, and how denying it is akin to spitting on his father's grave, and later akin to pissing on it when Cal just burns all the letters and refuses to reply.

Anyway, the political impact of Cal and Mare's marriage. Ho boi, that one is a dousy. There's a reason they have a small wedding with only their very close family and friends. They try to keep it hush hush, for a little while, but of course the Silver Secession finds out because they find out everything. They bother the living hell out of Anabel until she sends one very threatening letter back after which the letters come far and few between (she never tells Cal what she put in that letter but she always gets a wicked gleam in her eye when he asks). But the political impact of their marriage is heard round the continent. Lets be real here: Cal is no longer a prince, but he is still a very high profile figure in the Nortan government (now the States). Mare is both a prominent Scarlet Guard figure and Montfort one. There are very LOUD whispers saying that Montfort forced them to marry to create a permanent bridge between the two countries. That Montfort is using Mare as a leash on Cal and the States to dictate how they function etc. (Which may or may not be the actual truth)

They dont want kids at first. Cal's a little heartbroken about it of course. He wants kids, has always wanted them. But Mare is right, and their children would be in danger from the moment Mare conceives. Then Mare says fuck it, I want a baby. They try and she gets pregnant. The Silver Secession finds out. Those letters that stopped coming for a while come back, but with a fury from hell. It gets so bad (after Mare is actually almost kidnapped at one point) that they have to go underground and hide until the baby is born. Dane and Carmadon offer the cabin in Paradise valley because it's location is actually incredibly secret and isolated and safe. So they go there, and Coriane is born a few months later. Cal cries in relief because her blood is Red. There is no way the Silver Secession will come after her now, but they try and it is the most hellish three years of Mare and Cal's life. It puts them off from having any more children. There are eleven kidnapping attempts before Coriane is even a year old (one for every month she is alive and breathing air)

Then they just stop. The letters stop coming, the kidnappings stop. Mare and Cal walk on egg shells, Coriane toddles along, growing by leaps and bounds and making them proud every second of every day. She's loud and proud and walks around saying: My name is Coriane BARROW Calore. When people try to call her Coriane Calore. They find out that the Silver Secession is not happy with Coriane being Red. And People whisper when they go to the States. Some people who are not exactly part of the Silver Secession but who still whisper "Long Live Tiberias the Seventh" when Cal passes in the street with Coriane on his shoulders and Mare at his side are not happy either. They sneer at the giggling toddler at his side reaching to touch the pretty things in the market. They jeer at her Red blood when she laughs so hard her cheeks burn bright, cherry apple red. They frown when they see Mare nuzzle her neck and press kisses all over her face. They especially dont like when Cal glares at them until they pull back into their stalls or shops or go back to their coffees and newspapers. Around this time, (In my headcanons) Coriane meets Nikolas Samos (second born to Wren and Ptolemus) and they become instant friends. A dangerous thing of course... for obvious dynasty reasons, and this fuels the Silver Secession for a little while.

Then Mare gets pregnant again. Shade is the definition of a Whoopsie! Baby. They immediately go into hiding this time. They take Coriane, Cal takes a leave of absence, Mare takes one too, and they dont tell ANYONE where they are going. The reason? The nurse who did mare's check up told someone it was a boy, and that person had some nefarious connections to a certain Silver Political group that was running on fumes up until that moment. The first letter that arrives at their little house in Ascendant is written in beautiful court handwriting (Larentia's unmistakable tact in every word of that letter) and swears fealty to Tiberias Calore the Eighth who isn't even born yet. Cal torches that letter with his bare hand before Mare can even read it. Coriane doesn't like being taken away from her cousins and her grandma and grandpa and her aunt Farley, but they go in the dead of night and don't look back.

Shade is born in the middle of a storm like Clara, and Sara is the only person to see Mare or Cal in six months. They come back to Ascendant two months after Shade is born with a healthy baby boy, and everyone looses their minds. There are six kidnapping attempts in two months. Mare and Cal dont sleep for weeks, there is one dead Silver Secession member who got halfway down the street before Mare used Brain Lightning for the first time and liquified his insides. She is so horrified by it she cries herself to sleep for three nights because Coriane saw her do it, saw what her mother could do, and won't come near her out of fear.

But that too passes after a few years, because it gets around that Shade is a Red baby that looks more like Mare and her dead brother than Cal. Then it's back to Coriane, who by now is old enough to begin to understand what is going on around her. She starts to notice the whispers, the pointing, the stares when she goes out with her dad to train. (She accidentally set her bedsheet on fire after a nightmare, and that is where the trouble begins again). The letters start coming again, but they're addressed to her instead. She's only ten, so when she gets the first one with her name on it in pretty writing, she opens it before Mare or Cal notice, and is so confused by what is in it that she shows them it for clarification. Mare takes it and rips it to pieces, and Coriane cries about it, because that was HER letter. They have to sit her down with a very young Shade then and tell her a story about brothers, crowns, and mutations, death, war, and pain, and sorrow, and love. Then she understands. She's eleven when she does her first broadcast to denounce a throne that doesn't even exist anymore. She shakes with nerves in front of a camera, and has to hold a notecard with what she has to say on it. She mispronounces five words, and almost cries when she stumbles over a phrase she doesn't even understand, something about ever and always and crowns being broken. Cal stands behind her the whole time, squeezing her shoulders in reassurance. The nightmares begin after that for him, because there is a letter sent telling him of a distant Calore relative who is very interested in Coriane and would like to meet her. When Cal looks into him, he finds out he's 45 years old. And when I tell you he packed a bag the moment he finished that letter and drove to the airfield to take an air jet himself and kill the man, I tell you that Mare stopped him by standing in the middle of the runway and refusing to let him take off without going through her. "You give them what they want if you go after him." she tells him when he breaks down and kneels before her while she sits on their bed holding his head against her stomach. They NEVER tell Coriane about that, but there is two more letters that come like it.

Coriane and Nik becomes very close, dangerously close. There is one fic I will write at some point where both of them are taken and they actually get them away from Montfort and to a secondary location. There is man hunt led by Cal and Ptolemus and they do not keep those children for long. There is no record of what happened at that dilated mansion in the middle of the woods in the upper States, but Cal comes back with Silver blood under his nails and Coriane in his arms four days later.

When she gets older, much much older, into her later twenties, three different people send requests for her hand in marriage. She burns those letters and doesn't even deign them a response. Shade gets similar requests, and he throws the letters away. The Silver Secession goes out with a whimper, and eventually Coriane and Shade are safe. But inbetween their childhood and those years, people start whispering different things. "The word is changing, it's really changing" they whisper, and then say, "A Calore had two children, both Red, and they are kind."