#tw angry cole

[macheriee]

𝒜pocalypse ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

�� everyone knew the boy’s father was lord commander of the city watch, that much was apparent. to your mother he was another insult to the throne, to you he was just the bastard, until he wasn’t.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tags enemies to lovers, hate-fucking kinda, aunt-nephew incest, targaryen-hightower!reader, TW: dub-con (oc struggles w/ accepting she got the hots for jace) call it horny guilt lmao but the first encounter is very much dubious but she gives in, lust at first sight, domesticity, fingering, pussy-eating, jace is low-key a simp/sub, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, impact play(?), breeding kinks cause it’s HOTD, rough sex, oc is mean asf at first, happy but angsty ending, light to medium angst, pregnancy mention, kinda canon it lowkey follows ssn 2 n some of 1 but not by a lottt (ex. mentioned scenes/flashbacks), oc n jace have been aged up (20), tweaked a few things to make sense so not completely canon, slow-burn ish but then it’s just fast burn lmao, curly-headed!jace 4ever, TW: oc has a panic attack

ᯓᡣ𐭩 word count 10.7k

your lips my lips, apocalypse..

“Bastards,”

You’ve heard the strange term tumble from your mother and grandsire’s lips the day king Viserys brought forth princess Rhaenyra’s children. They each stood mockingly with their dark unruly curls and equally colored eyes, an uncanny resemblance to the city watch commander.

The truth of it was they were no true Velaryon, nor Targaryen—but a Strong. You wondered if Rhaenyra felt shame the way they came out with their plain features, mayhaps not as your mother said the princess was as stubborn as her dragon mount.

From the start Jacaerys was an aggravating little thing to look at as children when you both clung to your mother’s skirts. His eyes were filled with curiosity as were yours before Alicent found herself shielding you from his sight like she was afraid he’d sully you.

It was clear she had zero desire for her children to associate with Rhaenyra’s much to the king’s dismay (but when has father ever cared?) Your mother hardly kept you out of her sight and if it wasn’t her you were accompanied by your siblings, a handmaid, or Cole.

You never lacked in needing “friends” and grew fine without their company as you had Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena. Occasionally you saw Jacaerys and his brother running about like little savages in the halls but you’re pulled away by a Septa just short of crossing paths.

Jacaerys was the one who intrigued you the most. It might have been age but you didn’t understand why it was so bad? What had Jacaerys done for your mother to forbid you from speaking with him? He was a bastard, yes, but what did it exactly have to do with you?

Jace—Jacaerys, wasn’t a threat. You had no throne nor a title of some sorts to claim; there was nothing to your name, so why?

As children during joint lessons there were timid but not so secret glances exchanged. Mostly curiosity but it was something both Cole and your brothers disapproved of, especially Aemond who had come to Helaena’s chambers angry after a lesson in the dragon pits with Aegon and Rhaenyra’s sons.

Eventually they left for Dragonstone, never to be seen again until a day before your tenth name day when you’re called to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral. Why you were called upon such a thing you don’t know, nor care really as you hadn’t known the lady much.

The entire event was a waste—your brother was maimed, the king being the king chose his eldest’s side and the family further divided. Alicent wept and mourned Aemond as Rhaenyra’s bastards would have your brother’s eye. You looked at Jacaerys in anger, resentment, and frustration.

Who was responsible, you don’t care, what angered you was the fact that they paraded their entitlement so freely and shamelessly. Rhaenyra could have outright said she wanted Aemond’s head and your father would still find a way to make excuses for her. (Maybe even give her what she wanted.)

That was the last you ever saw of him before leaving for Kings Landing to resume life without them. You found it much more enjoyable without your half-sister and her family around, in fact you’d rather it stay that way forever.

On occasion you found yourself thinking of your nephew. The memories clung to the walls leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, one in particular haunting:

You and the king stood together atop the balcony watching as Ser Cole trained with the princes—including Rhaenyra’s sons. It was clear Cole favored your brothers evident in the way he praised one side but barked orders (or completely ignored) at the other.

“They’ll make fearsome knights, don’t you think?” Your father turns to you with a gentle smile, his tone warm but distant.

“Possibly, if Aegon ever decides to leave his cups.” You fall into silence shortly after.

You never knew what to say to your father having been so distant and neglected it felt like you didn’t know him at all. You tolerated him at best and affection was out of the question leaving you with nothing, just mere acquaintances.

The king chuckles quietly and his mouth parts to speak with his Hand but Jacaerys interrupts with his angry cry as he charges forward at Aegon. Your lips part in surprise and out of the corner of your eye you see Ser Harwin circling, watching.

Aegon uses the straw dummy to avoid Jacaerys. He’s quick to corner the smaller, kicking Jacaerys down in the process.

“Don’t let him get up.” Cole barks which spurs the commander into action.

You watch in amusement as Cole is beaten to a bloody pulp by the bastard’s father. The king turns with concern, given this was no sight for a lady, “Why don’t you go and see if your mother needs something, perhaps your sister?”

You bow in courtesy, escorted away by your sworn shield but your mother’s apartments aren’t the place you’ll be going, no, you want to watch this mess play out a little longer.

“I wish to see my brothers.” You command softly, already walking towards the training grounds even if your knight was willing or not.

They’re pulling Harwin off when you step foot outside, Jacaerys and his brother huddle close while your older brother in particular looks both amused and bored of the entire ordeal already. No doubt still pissy about being grabbed and promptly scolded by the king (‘Aegon!’) .

“Sister,” Aemond greets once you’ve joined him and Aegon.

“How were your lessons?” You quietly fuss over his messy tunic whilst checking for any bruising or cuts on his face, thankfully none.

Aemond responds in kind with Aegon loudly interrupting but you ignore him and his poor manners. You can’t help the way your eyes flit over him and his brother from across the yard, your gaze scrutinizing and judgemental like your queen mother often wore when she expressed her displeasure.

The little bastard actually rises to the challenge. “Jace!” You turn in time to see him advancing quickly, expression full of anger and accusation.

“Is there something you have to say?” Jacaerys glares.

You look over your shoulder with a cool expression, “I don’t have anything to say, what makes you think that?” It’s agitating having to explain yourself to him of all people.

“Because you look like you have something to say, so say it!” It’s comical the way his cheeks and entire face glow red from anger.

You slowly turned to Jacaerys with folded hands placed politely over your front (as the Septa and your mother taught you), “I was merely talking about how Strong the two of you were out here.”

This immediately draws the attention of Ser Harwin. His face easily betrays his emotions but you simply smile at the commander, “It’s a good thing they have the city watch commander to guide them, isn’t it?”

Challenging little cunt you were, Harwin forces a tight smile, “Indeed, princess.”

He doesn’t get to stay much longer as the guards begin pushing him in the direction of the castle, away from his two Strong boys. You were going to wipe the smug face off that bastard–

Aegon shoves Jacaerys first into the dirt, sending the poor boy flying back as Lucerys panics calling out for him. Lucerys charges with a wooden stick in hand, his face twisted in anger and fear as he swings for Aegon, “Let my brother go!”

You scoff and stick your foot out, tripping the boy as you swiftly place a foot over his back pressing down, “Dohaerās!”

You put more pressure with each passing second he squirmed and cried. “Get off of him!” Jacaerys shoves Aegon off and runs at you, pushing past Aemond knocking him down too in the process.

You turn in time to see a head full of dark curls charging, your father yelling for everyone to put an end to this nonsense. “Or what? You’re going to run to mommy and tell her what I said?”

He stops dead in his tracks when you stalk towards him with a predatory look in your eye, “What’s wrong? Not strong now are you?” You shove him harder, causing him to stumble over the wooden sword, “Better yet, why don’t you call for your father to come save you?”

Harwin stills by the doors and the entire yard grows silent. Jacaerys clenches his fists tightly, “Ser Laenor isn’t here.” He grits.

You lean closer, eyes meeting Ser Harwin’s over Jacaerys’ shoulder, “Is he?”

The ‘Velaryon’ stiffens and you can’t hide your grin, “I was merely joking, relax.” You finish softly pulling away.

Aemond is there holding his elbow out for you to take, the two of you (Aegon included) disappear into the castle passing by the commander. Aemond himself shoots Harwin a look before uttering loud and clear:

“Bastards.” No one corrects him.

You remember the outrage you and your brothers caused with Rhaenyra. She demanded justice—especially towards you after learning you pushed her Luke to the ground and commanded him like an animal. She pushed for a harsh punishment, hell-bent on it.

Alicent, who usually was spoken over by her husband and every other man in her life, for once refused. Your mother made sure of it that no one, not even the king, was to touch or harm you, fiercely defending you against your half-sister.

‘Over words? You wish to have my daughter flogged over an insult?’

Needless to say your mother had the last say after some unsavory words and threats were exchanged in the council room. As Rhaenyra passed you met her eyes briefly before Alicent covered you with her own body.

They left like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs. You, Aegon, and Aemond stood over a balcony watching the ships sail and dragons pass overhead. It was as if they were never there to begin with.

It wasn’t always unpleasant you suppose but with age you slowly begin caring and thinking less and less about those Strong boys.

༺ ──────────── ༻

“There’s to be a petition in court.” Your mother solemnly mumbles from her place by the open windows, she’s in one of her moods again and you wish no part of it. Was it Aegon who went and managed to piss her off for the umpteenth time?

You barely look up from the embroidery you’re working on (it’s a beetle for Helaena who has been feeling blue these days), “A petition for what?”

Alicent turns to you with a melancholic look on her face, she’s smiling but it falls short and her somber mood once again returns. “Nothing of importance my sweetling.” She lifts her skirts to take a seat beside you on the floor, “What are you working on?”

“A beetle, for Helaena.” As you’re showing her the doors to your rooms open and a handmaiden stands by with a soft ‘Prince Aemond, your grace,’

“Mother, y/n.” Aemond greets as he takes a seat in the chair next to you, leg crossed over his other. “For Helaena?” He murmurs, leaning down to get a better look.

You speak amongst quiet whispers while Alicent watches, content to see her two children together. “Mother, the petition does it have anything to do with Rhaenyra and her sons?”

Aemond, who had taken the embroidery to try for himself, stops in his tracks. Alicent feared she wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret, especially not with you two being so perceptive all the time. Her prolonged silence was enough answer anyway.

“Yes,” she finally relents, “Lord Corlys’ younger brother wishes to challenge Lucerys’ claim for Driftwood.”

Her tone is hesitant and careful, she looks at Aemond when she says his name. She’s treading carefully with her third born knowing he was particularly sensitive when he got angry.

“By extension the rest of her I presume?” You reach for a lemon cake mumbling to Aemond (‘Share one with me… I said to split it, not have it all.’—‘I did.’)

With the king bed-ridden nearing death and his first born off at Dragonstone, there was no need to hold your tongue. “Her claim will be questioned, as will her first born and second,” Aemond adds.

“I worry sometimes,” Alicent finally says, silence following, “for you, Helaena, Aegon—the children.” You know exactly what she means to tell.

“I do believe Helaena has been in need of some company. You may leave me, I have Aemond.” You reach for her hands and gently squeeze, “I will catch up with you two, yes?”

Alicent studies your face in worry before settling on brushing a few stray hairs out of your face, “Alright, I will see you.” She lays a gentle kiss over your head and rises to her feet.

Once the doors slam shut you finally release the sigh you’ve held in through the entire conversation with half a mind to ask for a bath to soothe your oncoming headache. “Seems our dear nephews will be arriving on the morrow.” He comments.

“Hm, seems so.” You’re not entirely sure how you feel, are you supposed to feel anything?

Things were different now you suppose, your hatred died down over the years without their insulting presence. You didn’t like them either, merely tolerated the idea of them.

Then there was the great Jacaerys Velaryon, future of the realm and heir to the throne, the same boy who plagued your dreams and memories all these years.

And he was to be here tomorrow, the first since Lady Laena’s funeral (which you had believed to be the last time you would ever have to see him).

“You’re free to speak plainly sister, we’re in private, we don't have to keep pretending.” Aemond mutters, head lolling in your direction as he stares at you.

You tilt your head, “And what would you have me say? That I’m looking forward to their little visit?”

“What excuse will it be this time? I don’t think she can easily sway the people with the evidence right there in plain sight,” he hums.

The more you think about her and her children coming here into your home tainting it all over again—you grow furious.

“Help me up will you? I think I’ll take a bath and meet you with mother.” You hope it will be enough to curb your anger for now.

Aemond holds you upright and levels you with a stare, “Something’s bothering you.”

“Well, yes–”

“Not them.” Aemond replies quietly and for a second you still.

You gently stroke the side of his face, watching as Aemond leans into your touch with a closed eye, “I’m fine,” you murmur, “now go.”

Luckily Aemond’s just as sweet on you and Helaena as he is stubborn and observant. He lets it go (thankfully) and you’re left alone to think about tomorrow. You could easily feign sickness or escape to the Sept (you were due for a prayer anyways) but mother would never let you as much as she would like to—your grandsire’s word evidently still strong over her.

You soak in the boiling hot tub, enjoying the steam delicate scents from the oils you regularly use. “That’s a problem for another day,” you find yourself murmuring to no one in particular as you sink further into the tub, eyes slipping shut.

༺ ──────────── ༻

You had done your best to carry on with your duties the following morning.

Nearly an hour had passed since you sat around staring at your reflection instead of allowing the handmaids to dress you. By this hour you’d be with your mother and Helaena in the gardens. Your absence however prompts the queen to come searching.

“What’s wrong?” Alicent whispers sitting beside you on the bed with worry etched on her brow as she gently moves your hair from your shoulder, “y/n?”

You place your hand over hers, “Braid my hair, like when I was child?” You hold the brush out for her to take.

She has you sit on the floor in front of her, gently combing the hair brush through your soft locks handling each strand of hair with care. The two of you fall into comfortable silence (save for her soft humming). All of your frustrations quickly lift off your shoulders the more you sink into her gentle caring touch.

“The dress is beautiful, when did you have this tailored?” Alicent comments softly, it was no secret to anyone that she saw herself in her youngest daughter—dutiful, composed, a good daughter.

The only difference was you had freedom she never did. While she had been made a child bride by her own father, you remained an unwed maiden at the age of twenty by choice. Alicent didn’t push for proposals and Otto knew better than to try and meddle with you like he had with Aegon and Helaena.

(‘Aemond had it made for me, Helaena has one in blue.’—‘The fabric, I don’t believe we have that around here do we?’) Your doors open and your drunken (maybe hungover) brother comes stumbling gracelessly.

“Well don’t you look darling.” He comments under his breath and saunters over to where you sit, falling flat on his back with his head in your lap.

“Aegon.” Alicent warns as she starts on another braid.

You look down and flick his forehead, “You smell of wine, and you're going to dirty my dress.” Despite the annoyance you still comb your fingers through his hair affectionately.

Aegon snorts unceremoniously, “Is it a crime to visit my sister now? My very beautiful sister—do say, when are you going to choose a husband? You’re past the age, and well nearly every lord in the realm’s been asking for your hand.” He smirks slyly knowing very well the topic of marriage angered the shit out of you.

“Aegon that’s enough, stop pestering your sister.” Alicent sighs heavily.

Your eyes flick over to the wine pitcher in your maid’s hands, the threat clear. A harmless grin forms on his face, one you can’t help but mirror teasingly as the two of you settle in silence as to not disturb your mother with children’s banter. You left that for your niece and nephew to do.

“There,” Alicent shows you through the mirror, “do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you.” You leaned back to lay in her lap.

Normally she would frown at receiving such affections but because it was you she held her tongue, never truly bothered by any of it. She allows it for a little longer before gently patting your shoulder.

“I must go and see to it that preparations for our guests are going well my sweetlings. I will see you in court later.” She departs hastily.

“Have you eaten?” You ask Aegon, who shakes his head as you rise to your feet together, “I haven’t either.”

Rhaenys and her granddaughter are the first to arrive on dragonback, and then your dear half-sister with her entourage of children and Daemon.

‘Ha, so they really did it,’ Lady Laena hadn’t been dead for a week and these two had already frolicked around (the night at Driftmark, you’re sure the two figures on the beach were them).

No one had been there to receive them—you certainly didn’t bother, you doubt any of your siblings would. You’re outside in the yard watching Criston Cole train with Aemond again, your brother much more swifter than the knight in comparison to when he was a child.

There’s a proud smile on your lips when Aemond emerges victorious, looking your way with a grin. “Come to watch me?” He tilts his head.

“What does it seem like?” You muse softly after seeing that Aemond has garnered attention from other knights and maids, making a spectacle of his sparring in a outstandish way.

“It seems you want to spar with me,” he smirks.

“Daor.”

Aemond snorts, “Fine,” he picks his sword back up and points it to Cole, “again, I wish to win this next round in my sister’s honor.”

A handmaid is quick to bring you a chair, the sound of swords colliding once again filling the yard. Aemond’s eager to prove he’s surpassed Ser Criston and judging by the small crowd forming he’s eating the attention right up. You hear distant murmurs and whispers but pay no mind, it must’ve been the women from court again who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.

“Just look at their hair..” One of them says.

Everyone knows, father, just look at them..

“Princess? Are you alright, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” you hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath in shock and anticipation the entire time.

The swords have stopped and everything goes still, Aemond stands with the tip of his blade pointed in your direction—not at you, but behind you. He had that crazed look in his eye again. You share a look and rise from your seat slowly.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” Your brother’s tone is cold with bitter hate.

Jacaerys stands dumbfounded and unable to form a response, you watch his (soft, plump) lips part but not a single sound comes.

“Nephews.” You quietly say with the tiniest of nods, “It’s been long hasn’t it? I take it the trip over was comfortable, was it not?”

Neither Lucerys nor Jacaerys answer at first with the younger curly-headed boy awkwardly muttering his response, very unbefitting of the next Lord of the Tides.

You barely spare him a look as you turn to Jacaerys, “Would you like me to show you your rooms? I’m sure they’ve been prepared already.”

“..We would appreciate it,” he finally replies, his voice no longer squeaky and high—rather low and suave, “seeing as there was no one to properly welcome us earlier.” His snarky response makes your skin crawl and your temper flare, but for appearances you reel yourself in.

“Apologies, nephews—it’s been a rather exhausting day preparing for the guests.” You force a polite smile.

He fixes you with a dark stare, his gaze dropping from your lips and then back up, “Mm.”

“Follow me,” you hum disappearing into the castle with the two Velaryon boys following close.

Neither one of you made an attempt to speak. What was there to talk about, they were practically strangers and you doubted Lucerys would’ve enjoyed recounting the last time the three of you had the pleasure of sharing the same roof. Jacaerys on the other hand must’ve believed you to be a fool if he thought you hadn't noticed him looking.

Annoyance runs hot through your veins as you finally reach the wing where their rooms sat, “I hope everything is to your liking, don’t hesitate to ask if you need something.”

‘Thank you.’ You hear Lucerys mumble but Jacaerys offers nothing but his heavy stare. “I’ll see you later,” your voice is soft and silky but the lingering (wanton) look you give speaks in volumes.

“Later.” You hear him faintly reply once you’re out of earshot, you can’t help the tiny smirk on your lips.

༺ ──────────── ༻

Court was as you expected—boring and another waste.

You stood by sweet Helaena, who was equally bored, listening as the second son of Driftmark cried over being replaced by a child. A bastard no less, you could only imagine the embarrassment he must have went through—or rather going through because it didn’t seem like he’d be getting a rest from it anytime soon.

During his speech you made eye contact a few times with Jacaerys. You don’t know why it felt natural, like gravity pulled your gaze to him over and over. When you would look he was already watching with the same hunger from before.

The whole fiasco ended in total failure because Vaemond’s killed leaving no challenger. You’re not surprised things worked out in Rhaenyra’s favor after your father wobbled his way to the throne and then had to be carried out because he overexerted himself.

Aemond shields both you and Helaena from the dead body lying on the floor, “That’s enough for today, you’re all dismissed. Someone dispose of the body.” Otto barks through the mess caused by Daemon.

You manage to sneak a last look before being ushered out by your mother and brothers. The walk back quiet and awkward, what was there to say?

“That was..something.” Aegon finally breaks the tense silence.

Your mother doesn’t reply and Aemond snorts, “It was another mess that’s what it was.” You murmur loud enough for them to hear, “Like always, they make a spectacle of themselves and father comes to save the day.”

“Should’ve known father would do that.” Aemond adds in, and it’s true.

You already knew the petition against Rhaenyra’s children of all people would be useless. It was as if the king had a sixth sense when it came to Rhaenyra. Funnily, he was sick enough to be bedridden these past years but well enough to come defend his first born one final time.

“Helaena, why don’t we take the children to the gardens? I’m sure we could both use some fresh air.” You find yourself asking, desperate to forget.

You end up spending the afternoon with Helaena in the gardens talking about everything and nothing. It was always a relaxing affair when it came to your sister and her children. You liked lounging around and watching the twins with a lazy eye. It felt nice having this small escape, kept you from ripping your own hair out over the family drama.

You’re in the middle of playing with Jaehaerys when your mother’s sworn shield interrupts, “Forgive me princesses but your mother has sent me to escort you to tonight's dinner with the king, he has requested all his children be present.”

Helaena’s smile fades and your mood is spoiled for the day, of course the king would pull a stunt like this.

“Hel.” You put a tentative hand on her shoulder, relieved she merely relaxes under your touch. The two of you hesitantly part from the children after promising sweets and more playtime.

Everyone’s barely arriving with your seat being between Aemond’s and grandsire. Aemond looks disinterested (as does everyone else) but you try to put up a farce for the dying old man being carried in. It was possibly his last dinner, might as well make it a memorable one you suppose.

No one wants to speak, Aegon’s got his hands cupped in front of him in exasperation like he’s itching to reach for his wine goblet. Helaena is mumbling to herself mostly and Rhaenyra’s other children stare at their plates.

“Father,” all eyes are on you, “forgive me as I know it was your wish for us to dine together but I’m feeling unwell and would like to rest if I may..” You trail off softly placing your hands on the table, ready to flee.

Jacaerys is still looking down at his plate with a deathly tight grip on his fork. The old croak waves his hand dismissively, smiling painfully, “Yes, go on that’s fine.” He offers a gentle nod at most, you don’t think he even remembers your name.

“Thank you, if you’ll excuse me.” You bow politely,

quickly moving for the exit without a spare glance.

You hear another voice but you can’t make out what they said other than the sound of a chair being pushed out. Something was telling you it was your Strong boy and the thought brings a mischievous smirk to your face as you look over at your sworn shield.

“Leave me, I’ll retire to my rooms alone; you’re dismissed.” You calmly begin walking away.

“But Princess—”

“Go Ser, I will be fine.” You leave no room for argument and hear him reluctantly let out a sigh before heading in the opposite direction.

With the guard handled you find your way through the halls humming in high valyrian until you reach your destination: the king’s council room. It’s dimly lit inside by candles, the windows are open with sounds of small folk singing and dancing heard below.

The slightest creak has you looking to the side without turning your head, “Unwell you said, you must like lying a lot..” He trails off in amusement as he plays with an ornament nearby.

“And what have I lied about nephew? Enlighten me.” You reply softly.

There’s no denying the thrill you’re getting out of this, Jacaerys was bold for following you like this, in a room all alone with no guards around. The secrecy excited you because if anyone were to find you two together—oh they’d think the worst.

An unwed maiden and the prince bastard of Dragonstone.

“You’re acting dense on purpose, putting up a farce—tell me does it make you feel better? Your words, actions—they’re insulting. I don’t think for a moment you’ve had a change of heart.” He scowls, stopping short of the king’s chair.

You spin around to face him with your hands behind your back, “Whatever do you mean?” You can’t help but bat your doe eyes.

Jacaerys hesitates for a second, “You know what I mean, do you take me for a fool.” He says low and threatening, ever so guarded with you.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know and if you’re just going to keep repeating yourself the door is right there.” You enjoy the look of anger on his face and part your lips to speak once more when he stops you with a hand on your forearm.

The touch is hot, scorching even as you feel the rush of arousal and excitement hit you all at once. No one has ever grabbed you this roughly, or been in the same proximity long enough to keep their head (you had your own way of dealing with unwanted advances).

Yet, Jacaerys still has his hand.

The audacity. “Let go you—” You move to slap him but he grabs your wrist just short of connecting to his face.

“You what? Go on, say it,” he eerily whispers as his hot breath fans over your lips.

Your calm demeanor slips and eyes narrow in anger, “You fucking bastard—unhand me right now!” Your yells are muffled when he seals his lips over yours.

You violently flinch backwards, the kiss bruising as you try pushing him off. In response he merely tightens his hold reminding you he was much stronger than the brat he used to be. Where you move he moves and if you take a step back he takes one forward. Jacaerys slips his hand through your hair and tightly grips, yanking you forward to keep you in place whenever you squirm too much for his liking.

You somehow manage to sneak a hand below your skirts for a dagger you kept and without hesitating bring it up intending to puncture his side. He sees and quickly seizes your wrist, squeezing tight as the blade slips and lands with a clank on the ground.

“I can see the way you look at me,” he whispers all breathless and breathy, “and it kills you to know you want a bastard like me doesn’t it—I wonder if you picture the same things I do,” he briefly pauses as his eyes trail over your swollen lips.

He crowds you into the table with a hand dropping to your hip, “It’s only you and I,” his lips connect with your ear trailing downwards, “you don’t have to pretend; all you have to do is let go.”

Your spine involuntarily arches from his electrifying touch with goosebumps erupting all over. You can’t help the soft gasp when he tugs you towards him by the hip. The very large bulge in his slacks presses stubbornly into your pelvis, hot and throbbing.

“Jacaerys we can’t,” you begin quietly.

“We can’t or you won’t?” He questions dismissively like he doesn’t believe you.

Your lips part and a shaky sigh escapes when he begins leaving open mouthed kisses over your collarbone and shoulders. You pray he doesn’t leave any marks to the naked eye as you’d hate to have to explain the marks on top of your request for moon tea.

“I can’t.” You hope he’d reconsider but to your utter horror Jacaerys sucks harshly over the soft skin of your chest where your tits sit perfectly cupped and pushed together in your dress.

You cry out from the surprise and sensitivity as your hands came up to grip his shoulders tightly. He gives your other tit the same treatment before dropping to his knees with the same lustful look in his eye from earlier.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he pleads as if he desperately needed to hear it from your lips.

“I..” Do you really want him as much as he believes you do? The very thought of him defiling and tainting your purity caused a dark swirl of emotions within you—you want all of him.

Jacaerys licks his lips hungrily and pushes up your skirts until he’s settled in front of your soft thighs. His hot breath fans over them as he inches closer until he’s eye level with your moistened, throbbing cunt.

“..Yes,” you find yourself whispering after a few moments.

A pleased rumble leaves him and he closes the distance between him and your aching cunt. The first stroke of his hot tongue over your sticky folds has you keening in pleasure and your eyes rolling shut, head thrown back. You can’t help your lewd moan—all high and breathy.

Jacaerys works his tongue over your throbbing clit in firm strokes, hands greedily feeling every inch of your smooth skin. You choke when he throws one of your thighs over his shoulder, the angle shattering as he gains more access to your soft virginal pussy; ripe for the taking.

His lips part over it and he takes your aching bud into his mouth, vigorously sucking and lapping. “Jacaerys–” You choke out as his fingers tread over your folds dipping in to press against your soppy hole, the digits gliding rather easily aided by your dripping wetness.

His middle finger slips through—poking and prodding—until he breaches and pushes past the resisting barrier. There’s a sharp whine as your cunt flutters, greedily swallowing up his fingers, “Mmn..”

You notice how he gets when he hears you make those filthy little noises, the flick of his tongue sharp and his grip growing just a bit tighter. You can’t help eagerly rolling your hips on his face, shuddering as your bare cunt slides over his hot mouth and the tip of his nose dips between your folds brushing over your clit.

“Oh gods,” you gasp breathlessly, hips baring down faster and your grip on the table getting tighter.

There’s a filthy moan below your skirts, the vibrations against your pussy have you mewling needily. With little strength you manage to smother your cunt over his face again until he decides to stop teasing and seals his mouth over your throbbing clit once again.

You whimper out a garbled version of his name as the pleasure simmers hot in your lower belly. Your release hurdles towards you fast, almost knocking the breath out of you from how intense.

“Fuck Jacaerys..!” You gasp as the coil finally snaps; leaving you with legs spread wide and hips angled down with your clit in his mouth and his fingers curled up inside you.

You’re blinded by the hot white pleasure and the slick dribbling down your thighs (to which he greedily licks it up with loud unabashed slurps and moans). You shakily push his head away from your sore spent pussy, whining when he lands one last lick over your throbbing clit before letting up.

Jacaerys stands before you in a disheveled state with his swollen, glossed over lips. His tunic’s slightly rumpled and hair clearly out of place from being buried under your skirts for so long.

“Jacaerys,” you quietly start but he quickly silences you with another kiss, this one sweeter than the last.

You can’t help your sigh leaning into his touch, he treats you much more delicately than his harsh bruising kisses from before. He handles you like you’re meant to be—gentle, pampering, soft. The sentiment leaves you eager but disappointingly he pulls away and just..leaves? If you hadn’t been so out of breath you’d call out to him.

You lay your hand over your chest shuddering at the cool sensation of drying slick between your thighs. A rational side of you argues it’s for the best things ended before escalating but another wants to seek him out.

“Princess?” You hear one of your ladies in waiting from the other side of the door.

You shove your skirts down and fix your hair in an attempt to look modest. “Princess,” her face relaxes and she approaches you with open arms, “your mother sent me, are you still feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine, I’d like to have a bath now,” you take her arm biting your inner cheek to fight the fierce heat blossoming over them from embarrassment, “you shall speak nothing of this to my mother, yes?”

“Yes, my lady.”

No one comments on your troubled look while they bathed and dressed you. They knew better than to poke at the dragon; especially one that was upset.

You’re dressed in a white dainty dress you’d gotten as a gift from Aegon (though you suspected he had other intentions when he gifted it to you). You’re left sitting prettily over soft comforters and cushions, skin still smelling like rich oils and softer than a fox's fur.

“That will be all, thank you.” You bid your ladies good night and see them out just as your sworn shield takes his place in front of your chambers.

༺ ──────────── ༻

Sleep does not come as quickly as you had hoped. You’ve lost count of the hour, too entranced by the crackling firewood and waves hitting the cliffs. The candles have long died out and the moonlight took its place as your source of lighting.

You were tempted to escape to Helaena’s room using the secret tunnels but your sister could either be with Aegon or asleep. Your mother was out of question as she would chastise you about how unbecoming it is of a lady to be sneaking around during the hour of the owl.

(You’d never hear the end of it you’re afraid.)

As you roll over onto your stomach your breath hitches when the soft material glides against your swollen cunt. You quietly hiss and rub your thighs to ease the tension but it only worsens. Your clit pulses wildly, simmering heat boiling in your belly.

“Fuck.” You mutter rolling onto your back with your knees knocked apart, Jacaerys had really done a number on you.

You swallowed harshly thinking about his thick fingers and how your pussy was stretched to the brim. Your cunt flutters as you gasp softly, gods how you wanted to finish what he started earlier in the council room.

Would he lay you down tenderly and fuck you sweet or would he have you like one of those women from the streets of silk? Like a whore bent over and mounted like a bitch where he’d fuck years of hate and anger into you. Anger for what you had done and said about him and his brothers.

The thought does not bother you in the slightest, rather you’re aroused. You don’t have to pretend; all you have to do is let go..

You set your pride aside and slip into slippers sneaking into the secret tunnels. You walk with haste recalling where every room was after Aegon first showed you and Aemond the tunnels. You stand before his door waiting anxiously after giving three hard knocks.

The tunnel floods with light and Jacaerys stands over you, his own body casting a shadow. You stare up at him with parted lips and a dreamy glaze in your eyes. He doesn’t hesitate to bring you closer until your cheek is pressed against his chest.

“Jace,” your voice is nothing more than a whisper yet the grip you have on his robes says otherwise.

He hauls you into his arms leaving you no time to gasp before he’s pinning you onto the silken sheets. He stares down at you intensely, his grip around your wrists tight and secure. Both arms encase you on either side of your head leaving you to marvel up at the Strong Velaryon boy.

Jacaerys says nothing when he tugs his own tunic and robes off with one hand. Each article of clothing falls one by one onto the ground, the bed creaking in protest under his weight as he comes to kneel over you once again.

Throughout this whole ordeal you’ve held intense eye-contact with him, a challenge you most certainly welcomed as he still possessed those flames of desire and anger from before. With a clenched jaw he brings both your wrists to one hand and reaches below with his free to grasp his hard cock.

You can’t help but look, having to bite down on your tongue to hold in the whine that threatened to escape. The weeping head dripped pearly white seed over your soft mound from where he stroked himself. The pulsing heat between your thighs quickly becoming unbearable.

He lowers his hips until his pelvis is smushed into yours, his hard dripping cock trapped between the two of you pressed into your inner thigh. The contact is scalding with the way it throbs, how you yearn for him to take it and fuck you silly with it.

“Jacaerys,” you quietly choke, voice raspy and thick with want & need.

“This will hurt.” He carefully gauges your reaction for any discomfort or hesitance.

“Show me then, my lord Strong. Claim me as you would if I were yours, your ‘plain’ appearance is not of importance to me sweet nephew,” you purr sweetly, “we share blood of the dragon, you and I..”

You decide he needs one last push.

“Imagine a babe just like us…he wouldn’t look like a bastard, no,” his nose flares and grip tightens, “but everyone will know when they see his strong curls—”

A cry spills from your lips as Jacaerys slams his cock into you, buried to the hilt where his soft balls meet your pert cheeks. The pain burns but it’s laced with pleasure in a bittersweet way, still you can’t help the soft hisses that slip through clenched teeth each time he shifts around.

You struggle to house all of him inside, what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth; fat and thick with swollen pussy lips stretched around him wrapped tight and snug. To your utter surprise however, he’s not upset at your small jab—he looks as if he were actually picturing a child with you.

“And yet you still lie beneath me, speared on a bastard’s cock,” he grunts.

Jacaerys rolls his hips, not giving you any time to adjust, “You’ll bear my children fearing they won’t come out like their father—brown hair,” thrust, “brown eyes,” thrust, “every bit of me.” He whispers low and menacing in your ear, his speed relentless and punishing.

The stinging pleasure worsens and your eyes water, it’s a sort of bone deep pleasure balanced out by the pain that was beginning to dull. You were powerless under the Velaryon Prince as you could only helplessly toss your head back from the sweet pain.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? To have my bastards?” He licks his lips and switches his pace to a more smoother one, still jabbing nonetheless but albeit more calmer.

You grit your teeth in refusal to answer, but he didn’t need your answer as he descended upon your lips hungrily and fucked into you faster. Your moans get swallowed up by both him and the slick accompanying his wet thrusts causing you to burn with embarrassment over your filthy coupling.

Your traitorous gaze drops downwards again, the sight leaving you in breathless awe. He has specks of blood smeared against his skin, his cock faring no better as it’s covered in creamy pink. You experimentally squeeze around him just to watch his mouth drop open in a small ‘o’ shuddering through the pleasure.

“Again,” he groans softly, “fuck, more.” He gasps while desperately grinding into you.

You wrap your shaking thighs around his waist and tug him closer until he’s trapped against you unable to pull out. He huffs and kisses your sweaty skin, his hips tilting to bump and grind into that sensitive spot from before.

“Oh Jacaerys,” your back arches and toes curl.

Throaty little moans spill from his lips over each rhythmic squeeze around his swollen cock. He fucks into that soft sticky heat just listening to the filthy wet sounds your cunt makes. He enjoys the soft thwacks of his balls slapping against your taint, splattering creamy slick over the sheets.

“Oh,” you shudder, peak hitting harder than ever

You feel the warmth and utter bliss/satisfaction when you come down from your high. Dollops of wet slick spill from the sides of your stuffed pussy, a phantom pulsing sensation most likely from the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna–” He bites back his needy moan, pressing deeply to ensure every drop gets buried in your cunt. It seemed like you were going to pay a visit to the maestar soon for moon tea.

However you were far more concerned about your ability to walk, you could barely even feel the space between your legs much less your cunt and knees.

༺ ──────────── ༻

Peace never really lasts long in the Red Keep, not with the never ending feud between both your families.

From what you heard, shortly after Jacaerys left you the first time he joined dinner again only to find himself punching Aemond while Aegon slammed Lucerys into his plate. Aemond had done it again with his taunts over your nephew’s legitimacy.

Rhaenyra was leaving again after those years gone, which meant Jacaerys would be gone too. You hadn’t voiced your displeasure nor let it show when the boys were seen off to their dragons at the pit. You hid by a column, peeking out watching them saddle up for their journey home.

Jacaerys doesn’t notice you at first but when he does he stops and his gaze softens with pity. “Aunt.” He greets striding over with his arms behind his back.

“Jacaerys.” You greet quietly, refusing to meet his eyes in a stubborn act of defiance.

He tilts your chin up gently and forces you to look, “This doesn’t have to be the end you know,” he brushes a stray hair from your face, “unless you want to stop?”

“I don’t,” you find yourself snapping quicker than he can finish which makes him smile, “you know I don’t. I just don’t see how it’s possible to continue..this, if you’re so far away on Dragonstone.” You mumble and cup his cheek.

Jacaerys leans into your touch with a hum, “I’m a dragon ride away my love,” your cheeks burn at the endearment, “I’ll send ravens if I have to—you don’t need to worry about a single thing.”

You gently peck his lips and sigh, “..If you don't write to me, I will..” You trail in high valyrian whilst squeezing his hand until it pops threateningly. He laughs low and brings your hand up to kiss, instantly quelling your temper.

“I swear it,” he replies, kissing your knuckles once more despite Luke calling out to him in the background, his dragon calling out for him.

You allow a soft smile as you whisper ‘go’, no doubt your mother would be looking for you as well. You watch him leave your side once again only this time you knew he’d be returning sometime soon as the king neared the hour of death.

No one knew of your little letters you exchanged with Jacaerys over the course of weeks. He would send you flowers and other things he’d find around Dragonstone while you sent perfumed handkerchiefs or oil scented letters.

You knew he particularly loved when the paper smelled like you. (You’d be rewarded with vulgar responses.)

‘My beloved, everything reminds me of you and how you might enjoy this if you were here. I’d give anything to have you here by my side dressed in Targaryen colors. I personally think red suits you best my love, don’t you think? I’ll have a dress tailored to fit in all the right places, perhaps we can arrange a slit for easy access? You’d enjoy that wouldn’t you?’

If your mother noticed your odd behavior, she didn’t comment. Alicent knew very well what a lovestruck girl looked like as she had been one herself not too long ago. No one comments on the frequent visits to the dragon pit where you’d disappear for hours on end returning once the moon had risen.

The illusion shatters however when Viserys dies.

Right away your mother and grandsire crown Aegon as king. You should feel indifferent about the throne but you can’t help the ugly feeling you get upon seeing Aegon the conqueror's crown over your brother’s head. He was no king. He was not made to be king.

War was coming. With Aegon usurping Rhaenyra, as if that wasn’t enough, Aemond goes and fucking kills your nephew in some petty child’s game.

You heard the boy sunk into the waters after Vhagar mauled his tinier dragon. When you were flying over you heard Vermax’s loud cries of anguish, no doubt feeling his riders emotions as Jacaerys mourned Lucerys.

Your own dragon cried out in return as you swiftly landed and hopped off, stumbling through the sand as Jacaerys quickened his pace. You meet each other halfway with him falling into your arms, brokenly sobbing.

His loud cries are drowned out by the harsh waves hitting shore and seagulls flying around. At that very moment it’s only you and him standing on that beach wrapped up in each other’s arms. You press a series of kisses against his temple, tightening your hold when you feel him tremble.

“Shh.. sh, my love. I’m here.” You murmur soothingly.

Jacaerys swallows harshly, “He…he killed him,” he croaks out, “he’s gone.” It physically hurts seeing him unable to speak, just choking up over his words like a little boy crying for his mother.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

You hold him until he grows tired of sobbing, resorting to softer sniffles as he cowers in your hold. Jacaerys has a death grip around your waist where his fingers dig into you unknowingly. “I can’t lose you.” He mutters.

You will never forget the haunting look in his eye. Jacaerys had already lost his brother, he would not be losing you either..

༺ ──────────── ༻

..A son for a son they said after the ratcatchers beheaded Jaehaerys in his sleep.

You were up for days unable to process the grief and horror, moreso you felt for Helaena (beautiful Helaena who hadn’t deserved any of this). The way your mother had allowed the death of a child—her own blood—to be handled was despicable.

You saw Otto Hightower for what he was: a power hungry cunt. Your own brothers were strangers to you, Aemond having killed his own nephew in cold blood and Aegon a bloodthirsty idiot who didn’t know what he was doing.

You understand why Viserys favored Rhaenyra now.

“He’s a fool, mother was right to tell him he would be more useful doing nothing,” you sharply reply.

You’re in Jacaerys’ room after a sneaky endeavor in his bed all afternoon, complaining about your stupid brothers. Your lover lays on his side with a hand supporting his head listening attentively with a loving gaze.

“What was it you said that he told Aemond—I can have to make a war?” Jacaerys snorts in amusement brushing his fingers through your hair.

“He’s an idiot. It’s a wonder anyone can actually stand being in the same room as him, if he’s not crying about Aemond making plans behind his back then he’s crying that no one respects him.” You shake your head.

“Hm, my mother still thinks we can avoid war,” he sighs deeply, “if only it were easy, right?” He slides your hand in his, holding it tightly while stroking over your knuckles with his thumb.

You can’t help but squeeze back, “Patience my love, everyone already sees how incompetent Aegon is. He’s already the usurper in their eyes and nobody really listens to him so to speak.”

“Suppose you're right about a few things.” Jacaerys’ gaze drops to your plush lips, still swollen and bitten-raw from his punishing little nips and aggressive kissing.

Your stomach swoops with excitement as a playful grin forms over your lips, “Only a few things?” You lean down to whisper, lips inches away from his.

He smiles lazily and cups your cheeks, “Of course not you know I trust your judgment, my love.” He mumbles soothingly while brushing over your loose curls.

He looks beautiful like this—the sheets hung low around his bare hips and the love bites littered across his shoulders and neck. You’d like to stay forever like this with him, all tangled up and the only sounds being your soft voices and the waves hitting the cliffs by his open window.

“Do you? Or is my prince only saying that because he desires a kiss?”

It’s comical the way Jacaerys lights up like a child faced with a fresh batch of lemon cakes. He eagerly slots his lips over yours and draws your naked body closer to him until his stirring cock is pressed flush against your hip—still coated in wet slick and oils from earlier.

You reach with one hand to tangle it through his soft curls, yanking his head back, “That isn’t an answer my love; does my prince want a kiss or not?” You ask firmer this time.

His eyes hollow darkly as he licks his lips, “May I? Your prince desires it.” He whispers low and breathy. When he says it like that you simply can’t deny as you eagerly press into him.

Jacaerys wraps his arms around your back and hauls you under him pinning you down against the soft sheets. You moan into his mouth reaching below to grasp his heavy cock in your soft palm and squeezing the head.

“Seems he desires more than a kiss,” you husk, tugging at his cock and enjoying the way he chases your touch.

“I want to claim every inch of you until you’re filled with my cum, maybe this time you will catch,” He finishes with a growl in high valyrian.

His cock slides between your sticky folds bumping and slipping against your clit. You angle the tip downward until it catches against your rim with a hitch, “Jace,” you sigh.

You feel every inch until he’s fed your cunt his cock. The stretch is mouthwateringly good, you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone else who could come this close to pleasuring as Jacaerys did. He wastes no time in rocking into you with long forceful thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” you thread your fingers through his hair turning your head away.

Jacaerys messily mouths along your neck and shoulder with muffled groans while desperately covering every inch of your skin with his mouth. You catch him off guard when you wrap your limbs around him and roll the two of you over.

“Lie back my love,” you seductively whisper.

He watches, entranced as you set your hands over his bare chest and push. The delicious weight combined with the heavenly warmth around his cock has his head rearing back and a long moan escaping.

You bite down on your lip taking in his every reaction. From this angle he strikes deep leaving you with a pleasant ache you’d be feeling the coming days. “Oh fuck.” You gasp, hips stuttering in their movements.

Jacaerys gets his hands over your hips and tugs you back down over his lap causing a groan to bubble out of your throat. He uses his newfound grip to bounce you in his lap until a low fopping sound from his thighs smacking into your cheeks fills the room.

Your gasps come out in short stuttered breaths with the occasional ‘mm’ thrown in there. Mid-roll you manage to firmly plant yourself in his lap trapping his fat cock in your wet cunt. You feel it twitching inside, desperate for another release.

Soft ‘ah, ah, ah’s fill the room alongside the sounds of sheets shuffling and seagulls in the distance. You’re lost in the moment basking in sunny rays and hot bubbling pleasure. His grip not once loosening nor slipping.

“Seven hells, you’re going to be the death of me.” He breathlessly groans.

His cock pulses faintly and then you’re being filled with thick spurts of white. He lazily squeezes your soft cheeks, watching with a blissed out expression. While you had yet to reach your own peak, you also didn’t mind just this.

Your hips came to a stop and you found yourself laying over his chest staring out at the orange-pink sky as you mumble, “I love you.”

༺ ──────────── ༻

Helaena hasn’t spoken much about your nephew since the funeral. She says she’s fine but you doubt that’s any true, you supposed she grieved differently. Helaena has always been a special case (in a positive light).

“Aegon left to battle,” you find yourself saying after an hour of silence, “Aemond too.”

Helaena can offer no insight as she kneels before her caged insects, speaking in soft whispers like she usually did, only this time her tone accompanied by her soft hums.

“How is Jaehaera?”

“..Fine.” More humming.

“And what have you embroidered as of lately–”

“You can go,” she softly interrupts, “everything is fine.” You’re stunned, maybe you overstepped and she wasn’t in need of visitors. That was fine, Helaena’s doing fine—

Your sister reaches over to grasp your hands tightly, staring into your eyes, “Everything will be fine. You must leave or else it will be too late,” a pained smile forms over her lips, “you will be one soon, and then two.”

“..what about you?” Your eyes watered, you dread the thought of leaving her here to suffer alone at the hands of Aegon.

Helaena lays a sweet kiss over your head, “There’s a storm coming, it makes flying harder.”

You wipe your tears and shakily nod, embracing her one last time before rushing through the hidden tunnels to your room. In a satchel you threw a few items of importance along with jewelry you doubt you’d need but something in your gut told you otherwise.

It’s easy to slip unnoticed through the tunnels and keep, the city proves much harder. You manage to pass through the small folk using alleys and hidden paths until you’re outside of the dragon pit. None of the dragon keepers question you and simply bring out Melaxes.

She senses your anxiety and begins to whine, “Shh, lykirī.” You’re quick to soothe her by leaning your forehead against her side.

When she calms down you guide her out of the pit, “Soves,” you murmur and Melaxes roars into the sky disappearing into the thick clouds.

You will be one soon, and then two.

Realization dawns: you haven’t bled for two moons now. Your hand immediately comes up to cover the swell of your stomach. Of course, what were you expecting?

You didn’t drink fucking moon tea and Jacaerys never cared to pull off. Your throat tightens up and tears spring to your eyes, “No,” you claw at your collar heaving.

Rook’s Rest. Rook’s Rest. Rook’s Rest. Your eyes widened—Larys Strong had heard talks of Princess Rhaenys and Prince Jacaerys going to battle together..

“Naejot!” You plunge forward until Melaxes zips above the sea, you pray to whatever god listening that Jacaerys is there safe and sound waiting for you.

You leave her not too far from the castle as you run up the hill towards the one place you knew he’d have to be. It’s a miracle no one notices Alicent Hightower’s youngest daughter storming through the halls until you reach Rhaenyra’s council room.

No one’s there.

“Oh fuck..” You whisper with a hand over your stomach, “No, no, no, no.” (There’s a loud ringing in your ear and it won’t stop.)

The tears come before you can even stop them as your vision quickly blurs. There’s something in your throat but it won’t come out no matter how much you heave and gag on your saliva.

“Mmn,” you whimper in discomfort and pain while curling away, refusing to believe Jacaerys was gone. You want your mother.

Your arm shakily shoots out to grab onto the stone for balance, “..please,” it comes out as a wheeze.

“y/n?” Was this a cruel dream? Jacaerys frowns and immediately starts walking to your side, “What’s wrong?”

He’s met with your lips and a tight crushing grip when you bury your fingers through his hair. You fiercely smother him in a desperate kiss which draws out a hiss from him when you bite his bottom lip.

“..We have to leave,” you mumble.

“Leave?” He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Jacaerys, please trust me—we need to go,” you desperately plead.

Jacaerys shakes his head, “y/n you’re not making sense right now, leave where? And what of my mother? What of Baela, Rhaena, Joffrey? What of my duty as heir to the throne? You say it as if it’s so simple.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Why won’t you just tell me?!” He slams his hand over the table.

“I’m expecting a child,” you choke up, “and I don’t want my baby to die, Jacaerys. I want our baby to live.” You cry softly.

Jacaerys goes eerily still, silently watching you weep all you’ve held in until now. His eyes cast downward over the Targaryen pin on his tunic, glistening under the light shining proudly as a reminder of where he came from.

He says nothing and reaches up to unpin the dragon sigil resting over his shoulder. He reaches over to silently do the same with your own before neatly placing both over the table, releasing his sharp breath.

There’s no other way around this regardless if you stayed or not your child was in danger simply by living and breathing. The Greens would come after you, maybe Aemond would be the one to kill you or perhaps even Daemon. Your child would be dead either way as the king made it obvious how he felt about bastard children.

Jacaerys turns to you with a gentle but pained smile, and in that moment you knew what he chose. Your lip curls sadly and with an outstretched hand you accept him. He squeezes tightly like he’s afraid you’ll vanish into thin air.

“I love you.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours, his hand manages to sneak between the two of you to press into your stomach where your child would soon grow.

Neither one of you says anything while Jacaerys packs what he plans to take. He writes to Rhaenyra and leaves the letter in plain sight over his desk. It’s quiet but comforting as he leads you to Melaxes and Vermax.

When she finds the letter Rhaenyra weeps. She can’t find it in her to be upset with him and while yes you had been another insolent brat as a child; you were still her half-sister who was now carrying her grandchild.

“If we fly out now we might catch up to them.” Daemon seethes as he paces back and forth before the queen, “This is just absurd, has the boy officially gone mad? A Hightower cunt no less.” He scoffs.

“Leave them, they’ve made their choice and we will make ours.” Rhaenyra shoots a pointed look at anyone who dares protest. She knows she’s vulnerable now that she’s lost two heirs.

..and if she hears the small folk speaking of two dragon riders traveling across the narrow sea, months later after reclaiming Kings Landing; she turns a blind eye and prays.

+ translations:

dohaerās (serve)

daor (no)

lykirī (be calm)

soves (fly)

naejot (forward)

[yanderelegoninjago]

Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: You're not too keen on this Princess Harumi Tw: Jealousy

[It's my younger brother's birthday 🤮]

You glared at the two at the end of the table. Lloyd and 'Princess' Harumi. She wasn't a real princess, so you didn't know why Lloyd was acting so enamored by her. You felt a hand on your shoulder, nearly causing you to jump. When looking back, you saw that it was only Cole, which caused you to frown.

"You trying to put a hole through her head, Y/n?"

You roll your eyes, ignoring his remark. You decide to stand up and stretch. "You want to get something to drink?"

He looks over to Lloyd and the princess, before smirking. "Yeah, I can get drink."

You both walk down to the kitchen area of the castle. You toss him a drink, before chugging yours own down.

---

Lloyd's eyes are drawn to your empty seat. His brows scrunch together wondering where you had gone- Until he realized that Cole was gone too.

He starts to stand up, but Harumi grabs his hand. "Where are you going?"

"Uh... the bathroom. I'll be back."

Lloyd moves out of her grasp, before exploring the castle. He peaked into the kitchen where he heard voices, only to frown when seeing you and Cole talking. What the hell where you doing with Cole?

"Yeah, he's such an idiot. I doubt he's noticed we've left, all over that girl."

Cole laughs and Lloyd debates stepping in, but he decides to leave. You wanted to be alone with Cole? Fine! You can be alone. He won't stop you.

Lloyd goes back to the seating area, taking his seat angrily, catching Harumi's attention, but he pays her no mind.

When you and Cole come back, Lloyd's attention is instantly drawn to you and his anger only increases tenfold when seeing you giggle to each other. He decides to speak up.

"What's so funny, N/n?"

You look towards the voice, surprised to see Lloyd was talking to you and he did not look happy. "Nothing. You just had to be there."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Lloyd rolls his eyes, grabbing his drink and chugging it down.

---

Night rolls around faster than the day had gone by. You lay down your blankets, ignoring Nya who was gushing about the beautiful rooms. Sure, they were nice, but what the hell was Lloyd's problem? He had no reason to be upset with you. He was chatting it up with some random girl, but you were talking to a mutual friend.

"So, what's up with you and Lloyd?"

You turn around, confused by Nya's words. "What?"

"Oh, don't play stupid. Everyone could feel the tension. Is something going on between you and Lloyd?"

"With the way he was talking to the princess, I sure hope not. It seems like he's more interested in her than anyone else."

"If you say so," She says, not believing you, but turns in her bed, but is stopped when there's a knock at the door. "Who is it?" She sing songs, giggling to herself, probably hoping it was Jay.

"Uh, Lloyd?"

You and Nya look at each other, but she was giving you a knowing look, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Come in, Lloyd." You tuck in the last corner, before sitting on your bed and looking at Lloyd who was now standing before you.

Lloyd coughs in his hand, looking between you and Nya. He sighs, before setting his eyes on your roomie. "Uh, can I maybe have a minute... alone?"

"Oh," She pops up, looking between the two of you, "Of course." She then leaves making you wish she would have stayed. You didn't want to be alone with him... Not now.

He takes a seat besides you, avoiding eye contact. He lets out a sigh, before finally making eye contact with you. "Can we talk?"

"About?" You look down at your hands, feeling the eye contact was to intense... to personal.

"You know... The Cole thing," There's a venom to his tone, causing your eyebrows to scrunch and you to look at him angrily.

"The Cole thing?" You laugh, standing up and crossing your arms. "What about you and that- that princess?"

"What about it?"

"You were all over her!"

"All over her?" He was now looking at you angry and confused. "No I wasn't! I was just being nice."

"Being nice?" You huff, looking away from him, "Yeah... A little to nice. You two were practically humping each other."

"You're being dramatic. Besides, what about you and Cole? You were alone together in the kitchen and then you come back all giddy?"

"Did you follow me into the kitchen?" You asked in an accusing manner.

"Of course not! I noticed you were gone and went looking for you."

"So what if me and Cole were hanging out. We're friends."

"Me and Harumi are friends!"

"She's a girl!"

"Cole's a dude!"

"Yeah, but you're friends with Cole. It's different!"

"How is it different?" He's now standing up and you are nearly chest to chest.

"Because I don't like him! I like you!" You blush when the words leave your mouth and silence overtakes the room.

"You.... like me?"

Your blush deepens and you avoid looking at him. "It doesn't matter."

"Wait- yes it does... Because," He scratches the back of his head. "I... like you, too. I always have."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

---

You ignore Nya's knowing look when she comes back into the room. She had to have heard everything, because you doubt she even took 5 steps away from the door. You decided to just go to sleep and take your relationship with Lloyd to the official step after having a night to rest it over... Relationship... With Lloyd... The thought made you smile. You should thank Harumi, because without her, you would never have confessed... But you still didn't like her, so probably not. Though, your thoughts went back to Lloyd one last time, before falling asleep.

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

haunted monastery drabbles

I know I said this would be a oneshot, but I decided it's a bit too short to count as one. so instead it's just a bunch of drabbles that are very, very loosely connected.

tws for death, blood mentions, and injuries

~

The new one — Jay, his name is Jay — was sitting on the couch playing video games. Cole flopped down next to him and stretched.

Jay had just arrived at the Monastery a few weeks ago and was still settling in. It was interesting, to have a new person around. Nice to have someone to talk to, but annoying that he didn’t have the space to himself anymore. Cole watched the little characters on screen jump and kick and fight each other. Jay was winning, it appeared. Cole wasn’t sure. He should probably ask, if Jay even knew he was here.

“Are you winning?”

Cole knew what he looked like. He’d looked in a mirror, before, after all. Pure black eyes, bloody skin, constantly glitching and flickering like a bad TV screen. It wasn’t surprising that Jay screamed at the unknown voice and dropped his controller.

It still kind of hurt, though. Cole had always wanted a big brother.

~

Zane was in the kitchen chopping up vegetables. Cole sat on the counter, grinning in amusement whenever the knife went through his leg, or poking at the flames on the stove. It tickled. He didn’t knock anything over, though it might have been fun. It would have been mean to ruin all of Zane’s hard work.

“That looks good,” Cole chirped. He avoided the water that sprayed out from the sink, hissing in pain when it hit him. It stung like acid. But there was worse pain in the world, so he ignored it and focused on his big brother. His big brother who had just touched a red-hot pan without any problem.

Zane wasn’t human. Obviously. Humans had heartbeats and blood and flesh. Zane had none of those things. Cole wasn’t sure he knew it, though. Zane always pretended to eat and sleep like everyone else. Hopefully he’d figure it out. Then they could bond over being not-humans together, which would be nice. Except Zane had to know he existed for that to happen.

Zane would have to figure out two things, then. 

~

Cole didn’t like Kai. Kai was brash and angry and didn’t listen to orders. He was worried about someone, his sister, but he didn’t care about Jay or Zane. He didn’t want to help stop Garmadon. He just wanted to go back to his parents’ shop and make weapons.

Which was fine by Cole, really. Three was a perfectly good number. Zane, Jay, and Cole. They were a good team. Even if two of them didn’t realise there was a third member.

Maybe there was a reason for Kai to stay. Cole didn’t really want his brothers to get killed because they didn’t have the master of fire. And Kai didn’t like Wu, at least not very much, which was a win. They could team up to hide his incense and mess up his ugly teapot collection. If Kai knew he existed. Cole kept forgetting that no one knew about him.

“If you join the team, we’ll have to think of a new name. Four musketeers isn’t very catchy,” Cole told Kai. “You should ask Jay for ideas.”

Kai blinked and turned his head like he’d heard. He rubbed his eyes when he spotted Cole’s silhouette. “Huh. Could have sworn I heard something,” he muttered.

“You did hear something! Me!” Cole said, exasperated. Kai didn’t react that time.

~

Cole wasn’t sure why he tended to avoid Nya. She was nice, if a bit short tempered, and Jay liked her a lot. But something about her made him uneasy. Being too close to her or even spending a long time in the same room together made his skin itch.

It was like warning bells going off in his head every time she stepped close. Danger, do not approach.As if some deep part of him thought of her as a threat.

Yes, Nya could be scary towards her enemies. She was formidable — Samurai X was proof of that. But she wasn’t dangerous to those she cared about. Cole was pretty sure he’d count as one of those people.

That was why he sucked it up and spent the night watching movies with her. All their brothers were out, so it was just the two of them. Cole didn’t pay attention to the movie, mostly because it wasn’t really a movie, more of a documentary. He just wanted to spend time with his sister.

“Can I choose the next movie?” Cole asked. Nya didn’t respond, of course, but it had been worth a try. 

~

Lloyd was the best thing to have happened to Cole since Nya and Kai’s arrival. He was about the same age as Cole, which meant that they got along great. Not that Cole didn’t get along with the others, but it was nice to have someone his age. And it meant that he got a little brother, something he’d never had before. Because Cole had been born first, which meant that he was technically older, which meant that Lloyd was his little brother. 

Well, it had been nice to have someone his age. The tomorrow’s tea had aged Lloyd up to being a teenager.

Nobody was happy with that development. Everyone felt that Lloyd had been robbed of his childhood. And Lloyd himself didn’t want to have grown up so fast, to be forced to fight his dad so soon.

Cole didn’t really understand why Lloyd didn’t want to fight Garmadon. Garmadon was going to destroy the world, after all. Yes, he was Lloyd’s father, but he hadn’t exactly been a good father.

He’d still try to support Lloyd. Lloyd was his little brother.

~

His lungs felt like they were being stabbed repeatedly. He couldn’t feel his right leg, or both of his arms. They must have been crushed in the rockslide. His head was pounding — must be a concussion — and his nose was definitely broken. He couldn’t see out of his right eye, and what the other eye could see was all rocks and dirt.

Cole lay there for what felt like hours, and it might have been. He tried to call for help, but his voice failed him. No one knew where he was. He hadn’t told anyone, hadn’t left any notes.

Would Wu look for him? Was he looking right now? Maybe he was using that all-seeing incense, or whatever it was called. Or maybe he wasn’t looking at all, couldn’t be bothered to. Wu certainly hadn’t cared before. He was probably glad that the little brat he’d picked up was gone.

Cole coughed. He tasted metallic blood in his mouth. “Dad,” he croaked. “Master Wu. Please.”

He slipped into darkness.

[dylan-duke]

Was going thru Nora’s tag and I want to see petey when he comes to beat up Trevor for making fun of Nora while potty training

tw for aggression (i get angry so I'm projecting)

"WHERE IS THE LITTLE SHITHOLE!" elias yells as soon as luke opens the door,

"uh petey's here!" luke calls out causing all the boys to come running,

"YOU!" the canucks forward yells beginning to move towards the anaheim duck,

"fuck," trevor breaths out running out of the room.

elias begins to set after him but cole, jack, quinn and luke hold him back,

"LET ME GO! IM GOING TO RIP HIS HEART OUT THROUGH HIS MOUTH THEN SHOVE IT UP HIS ASS! HE HURT NORA!"

"ELIAS!" quinn yells, "ELIAS STOP!" the swede freezes looking at his teammate,

"i want to kill him," he grits out, quinn nods,

"i know, me too. i want to kill him too, but its ok. he made a mistake its ok. plus nora hates him so shes avoiding him, and i think that's punishment enough,"

[col-e7]

Ninjago headcanons again but my high school with no powers AU (post 2/5)

/!\ TW : traumas, mention of SA, bulliyin, racism, struggling with mental health, panic attacks...

Note : If you're dealing with any of those, please seek help, you're not alone you can do this, you are stronger than you think and my DM are always open if you need to talk :3

Jay Walker

• is 16 y/o

• is in 10th grade

• uses he/him and is a trans guyyy

• BISEXUAL ICON

• is Korean by his biological parents but raised as Irish by his adoptive parents

• can speaks Korean perfectly well and an old Irish dialect

• has heterochromia eyes

• is a freckles head and has ginger/blond mixed hair

• is between 5’6 and 5’7 (1m68) but used to be smaller than Lloyd

• is the 2nd youngest after Lloyd

• he’s born on the 1st April

• has ADHD

• has a collection of rubik’s cubs and always have one in his bag and a key ring with a tiny one and use the big one in class to stay focus

• is a genius in mathematics and P.E. class but just for running

• has hyperfixations are video games, dinosaurs, sharks and spider-man

• is very clumsy

• once tried skateboarding like Kai, Cole and Lloyd but failed miserably

• is a bad loser

• never does his homework, the ultimate procrastinator

• was a gacha/nightcore phase

• listening to all genders of musics but hyper pop>>>

• has an overload room but clean because he has cleaning pulsions at 3am and reorganise his all room during his calls with Cole. His parents had to create their own headphones for the noises during the night

• is a HUGE lover of Christmas and Halloween

• is an anime weeb

• Gave his WII U and all his games with to Lloyd because he knew Kai couldn’t afford it at this time

• Helped Lloyd to bind their chest for the first time with tape and for his birthday he gave him his own binder bcz he didn’t need it anymore

• Make fun of Kai’s height since he get taller than him

• Nobody knows it but him and Cole dated once for a couple months in 9th grade before they decided to broke up because they feel they were just friends

• To him he only had two relationships : one with Cole and one with an another boy named Felix in primary school where they couldn’t stop holding hands, kissing each other on the cheek and helping each other

• Has also a panic disorder which causes him to stress a lot and for the most tiny things. He got medication for it so he doesn’t have like a panic attack a day but he still can feel extremely stressed

• Because of his panic disorder and some bullying things in primary school he did his all middle school plus 9th grade at home

• Can play electric bass thanks to one of his old hyperfixation and sometimes plays songs to Nya even if he makes mistakes because it’s been a long time he didn’t play

• Is a dog person and has a dog call Flash

• Loves his adoptive parents with his all heart

• When he’s angry he cursed in the Irish dialect he learned from his adoptive parents and the others are either dying of laughter or being extremely concerned

• Is in love with Nya for ages and ages but didn’t how to approach her and all so she’s the one who did the first step and talk to him for the first time

• He has testosterone treatment so his voice is still in break and sometimes it is absolutely low and other times it’s high-pitched

• He builds a lot of stuff and knows how to repair cars and often helps Cole with his motorcycle

• His hands are always dirty and dust is often under his nails because of all the stuff he builds

• He has a hate (but he wishes love) relationship with cats since he’s allergic to them

• He’s nyctophobic (extreme fear of dark) and so he always has a little candle or the night light that his parents made for him so he can sleeps

• Used to have horrible panic attacks at night when he has nightmares or because of his nyctophobia and even have to go to the emergency once because of it

• Before getting his driver license he always go to places with his bike

• Before meeting all the friend group members, he always had to pretend he was « normal » because people used to mock him because of his ADHD, his anxiety tics and where he lived (the junkyard)

• He’s the nice and energetic guy of his village, every old ladies thinks he’s really nice while old men thinks he’s too noisy (they’re just jealous-)

• Always make little gifts to Nya that he made himself and love to do big surprises that he took months to prepare just to see her smile on her face

• Was, is and will always #1 Nya’s supporter with Kai ofc

• Is best friend with Cole since he’s been adopted bcz the Walker and the Hence Brookstone families are good friends

• he knows what Cole’s been through and knows to help him

• Nya is his biggest support when he has breakdown she knows what to do, how to deal with it and make him feel better and always listening to him

• Nya and him rarely fight because they work hard on communication and Jay is just freaking happy about that

• Jay will never admit it but he always admired how cool is Kai and even if they fight a lot he knows he can count on them and they know they can count on him if there’s anything

• Zane, Pixal, Nya and him plan every month a weekend to the junkyard to make a new invention together

• Loves to help people he cares about so when he learned that Zane was being bullied by some racists, he managed to always be with him if they go alone somewhere and felt extremely shitty when they got physically assaulted bcz he couldn’t help and even get hit too

• Sometimes he wished he was like Kai, confident and brave enough to fight for his friends

• Always say ily to Cole because he’s THE best friend he ever had and he’s always here when he needs help

• When he helps Kai with their maths homework, he become as strict as a math teacher can be (even worse) and it makes Kai just questionning his whole life

• Made the worse foolishness possible with Cole as a kid

• has arachnophobia

• dance and scream-singing at 3am with Cole on Timber

• is a BIG fan of Fairy Tail (has a plushie of Happy)

Nya Smith

• Is 16

• Is in 10th grade

• Uses the pronouns She/her and identifies as a cis girl

• Bisexual girl

• Mexican/japanese like Kai

• Speaks Spanish

• Is between 5’10/5’11

• Is the 3rd youngest after Jay and Lloyd (she’s older than Jay yes)

• Born on 27 March

• She’s an extreme perfectionist like it already made her sick at some point

• Drive an old but incredible motorcycle she repair with Jay two years ago and loves it, it’s literally her baby

• Is an amazing student in everything except art and literature because she struggles to express her feelings and to words on emotions

• Loves metal music and listening some with Cole

• Is extremely good at sport and even more at swimming

• She's not into dresses but she wouldn't mind wearing a skirt even though she prefers wearing trousers and shorts

• Is definitely not a morning person like she needs coffee to be awake, is addicted to caffeine

• she's been assaulted sexually when she was younger like 11-12 a day Kai has to work late again and couldn’t get Nya in time so she had to go back home alone

• Lloyd and her would definitely have the best sleepover/gossiping together when Kai isn't here for the all night and doing karaoke all night long

• has matching bracelets with Kai that they did when they were young. Her is red and his red

• due to her assault, she’s extremely afraid to be alone outside at night. She hated herself and feels so vulnerable so she build herself a shell and since now she rarely talks about her feelings and emotions, she sees it as weakness, but thanks to Jay she understands that talking and showing her emotions wasn’t about being weak but having the courage to open up to others and face her problems

• used to go in a boxe club with Skylor in middle school

• has undiagnosed ADHD and learned she has some symptoms by Jay who noticed them before they even started dating

• she can skate with rollers but not with a skateboard

• is very passionate about space and love talking about stars, planets and all

• wish Kai let her help him at home and open up more to her

• dated a girl in 7th grade but didn’t tell to anyone because she was worried to disappoint her brothers or friends

• when she has big breakdowns or she’s too angry to talk or see anyone, she takes her motorcycle and goes to the sea, to a secret spot. Sometimes she just watches the waves and put her feet in the water or sometimes she just swim all dressed up until she’s not angry anymore, usually she stayed until the night falls to watch the stars and moon, thinking about her parents until Kai comes and picks her up, worry asf but happy to find her and comfort her on the way home

• didn’t used to sleep without any cuddly toys until Jay offers her one of his favourite and ever since she only sleeps with it and can’t sleep without it

• hates TV shows about love but loves reading old books about impossible relationships

• loves gossiping with Pixal, Vania, Skylor and Cole when they do a sleepover

• she’s BUFF and can easily take her brother and Jay on her back

• get a tattoo of orcas, her favourite animal, on her left arm

• she wants to be a marine biologist and learn all she can about faune and flora of oceans, buy or emprunte books and hold a looot of notebooks where she writes down informations

• she wears bracelets made of leather and the one that Lloyd made her when he was a child

• often make fun of Kai when she sees they doing a whole skincare routine coz he got acne and black spot very easily while she never had a single spot on her face

• did have a crush on Cole when she was 14 and was hurt when he told her he was crushing on Kai and started realising her feelings for Jay (she always considered him as a brother) a year later

• always wanted a cat but she doesn’t know why they’re always scared of her and that’s kinda hurt her in some ways

Zane Julien

• is 17 soon 18

• they’re in 12th grade

• uses they/them/it pronouns and see themselves as non-binary

• they’re demi-panromantic and graysexual

• Russian

• can speak like 10 languages : French, Russian, Italian, Latino Spanish, Chinese, Polish, Creole, Indonesian, Greek and German

• They’re between 6’4 and 6’5 (1m95), which make them the tallest in the group

• It’s the second oldest after Cole

• is born on December, 17th

• has autism

• their longest hyper fixations since they’re little are literature and language study

• have a bionic arm (they're born without their left arm) and they don't like to talk about it, it's kind of a trigger

• has always kind of a loner since they're little, so when they started to befriend with Cole during middle school, they were hella scared

• Cole is their most close friend and the one they trust the most, with their girlfriend, Pixal, of course

• is dating Pixal since 10th grade

• they never feel in love with anyone before Pixal and used to don't understand the concept of love for years

• they always been bullied for either their skin tone or their autism, and developed trust issues and anxiety disorder

• are easily overwhelmed by noise or public places, so they never stay at school too long, only in the morning then they go back home

• are a HUGEEE fan of romantic/dramatic mangas

• has lost its mother when it was only a child and so lived with its father

• are often complimented by their friends about how beautiful their eyes are (they're blue but like a mix of ocean and ice blue)

• can do crochet

• wish that their friends's life could be better and always try to help them

• feel bad when anyone is standing up for them when they get bullied or victim of racism

• feel like a burden

• is active a lot in volunteering actions and associations for example homeless people or victims of any sort of abuse

• even though their hyperfixations are more inclined in the litterature domain, their dream job is to be a doctor or a surgeon

• loves flowers and often gather some when it's walking its way home or anywhre and put them in its herbarium

• don't really like sport but love hiking, they find it really relaxing

• wish their skin were white pretty often

• even if a lot of negative things happened or are happening to them, they always try to stay positive and enthuastic

• is always the first person to listen Cole's music before the other since it was the first to know Cole made music and never make fun of him for that

• their favourite kind of music are indie, classic and ethereal

• has earrings since it is in 8th grade and always has them on (they were its mom's)

• have a EXTREMELY well clean room and hate when people get in and touch things without their permission, it literally can triggers them

• drinks nothing except water and apple juice

• has a budgerigar called Icy because of its white feathers

• their therapist is often bring their conversation oh them getting diagnosed to approve, yes or no, if they're HPI

• are working everyday a bit on being able to go in publics places alone which makes their dad and friends very proud of them

• try as much as they can to give some money or medecine for Kai's IED since they know he doesn't/can't take his pills

• already has a colder body temperature but having its bionic arm makes it a little bit even colder somehow

• love ice cream (fav flavour is vanilla)

• its style of clothes fits in light academia and has a comfort jumper (the only one they have from their mother)

• loves rainbows and has an entire album of pictures of them in its phone

And that's it for the Headcanons of the "main" characters of ninjago, I know I took ages to post it but school has been pretty hard and other personnal problems had been on my mind but i'm really happy to finally show you this post ! As always, you can always put your own HC in the comments or discuss if you disagree with mine, as long it's done with respect ofc ! I want to thank @en0laa who often motivated me to continue this serie so I dedicate this post to her :D

Anyway, I hope y'all doing great and having a great day/night/afternoon ! See ya in the next post !!

[finn-m-corvex]

Lightning in a Cubicle Pt. 4

And here it is! At long last! The fourth part of Lightning in a Cubicle! We have finally crossed the halfway marker and are on our way to the finale, which is looking like two more parts away (5 and 6) and that'll be a relief for me, honestly. I know this is quite late, but I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

Words: 3.4k

Slight TWs for very very very small wanting to rot in hell instead of the Administration! Taglist @rainofthetwilight @lightning-chicken @i-love-jay-walker and @sir-robyn! Enjoy! Remember if you want to be on future taglists, please tell me explicitly!

Sora was seriously growing on Jay, and it was a problem.

A couple of weeks had passed since the girl first became his intern, and she was probably the best thing that he could’ve ever asked for. She was efficient, on time, productive, and always managed to make him laugh on a day day. Plus, she was always on his side whenever Shitty Sharon decided to try and start shit, as her name implied. Overall, the past two weeks were probably the best that Jay ever experienced while working with the Administration, and he couldn’t think of anything else that would make it even better.

Well, there was one thing, but he already knew that there was no way he was ever getting those memories back.

“...so I told the guy to shove off if he didn’t want pictures of his ass hanging around the office,” Sora said between bites of food that the two picked up from the cafeteria, “because you know that I would’ve put his ass on the copier.”

“Oh, I know,” Jay said, looking at the girl fondly as she stuck her feet up on his desk. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry about it, especially when his cubicle was as tiny as it was. “Then what happened?”

She continued to regale him with tales of her adventures in the mailroom three floors down, and Jay did his best to listen, but he was distracted.

Every night since Sora had shown up he would have dreams. Weird dreams of things that he couldn’t place, people that he couldn’t remember, and in the morning he would do his best to sketch whatever remnants he could pick out from the haze of his mind. The pictures were hanging up all around his apartment with push pins and thumbtacks, and Jay hoped that his inspection would be delayed. Otherwise he might get sent off to the psychiatric ward, and fined for all of the new drywall that would have to be installed.

Did the Administration even have a psychiatric ward? With how often upper management drives the lower classes crazy, they better have one. And it better not be coming out of Jay’s paycheck.

“Hey,” Sora said, snapping her fingers in front of his face, “are you even listening? Geez, don’t tell me we’ve gotta get you hearing aids now.”

“I’m listening,” Jay protested, “just thinking at the same time. You were saying something about one of the guys sticking his hand up the pneumatic tube?”

Jay’s brain kept working while Sora talked. All of his searches for someone named Lloyd turned up with nothing, unless he was somehow dreaming about the legendary Green Ninja, but there was no way that someone as ordinary as him would have any association with a ninja. Jay didn’t even know that Ninjago had ninja! Which you would think would be something that he would remember considering he was from Ninjago!

And yet, faint memories tugged at the farthest corners of his mind, there but just barely out of his reach. Most of them were of Cole in his black gi, great green scar on his forehead and eyes of charcoal brown, but there were some of a younger man in green next to a taller man in red, a harsh scar over the latter’s eye and irises a molten brown. One in white, with shiny metallic skin that gleamed in the sunlight and eyes glowing icy blue, but the one that twisted the knife is his gut the most was the one woman in his memories. She had beauty greater than the depths of the sea, with eyes that floated between blues and greens that he had only seen in pictures of ocean waves.

They were the Ninja.

He found things about all five of the Ninja: green, red, black, white, and gray or cyan since the articles couldn’t decide what color she officially was. She was the most gorgeous woman that Jay ever laid eyes on, and he knew that he would be thrilled if she ever became his manager—

“Jay!”

“What?” he said, annoyed.

The girl sighed. “Alright, now I know you’re not listening. What’s got you so distracted? I know you don’t like working overtime, but I thought the pay was good enough to help you at least pretend to be doing something.”

Usually it was, but even that sweet overtime couldn’t push his thoughts out of his head. “You said you lived in the Crossroads for a while, right? Did you learn anything about the Ninja?”

Sora looked surprised, and Jay knew how much of a risk this was. “I may have heard some things, why?”

“I-I was looking at some stuff about them to try and learn what they were like,” Jay said, but he decided to backtrack. “You know what? It’s nothing. We should probably just be heading home.”

“Wait,” Sora said, springing up after him as he stood and started grabbing up his things, “you can talk to me, Jay. What’s wrong?”

And he wanted to so badly; Jay trusted her more than he trusted anyone else in this place. Their trip to the aquarium had only strengthened their bond into something that Jay never knew he would have. Before she came into his life he probably would’ve said that he trusted Luke the most, but ever since he first met Sora he started acting more and more cagey whenever the two would walk by. He would only talk in short sentences to her, sometimes not at all, and it rubbed Jay the wrong way. “It’s nothing, really. Do you need me to walk you home?”

“Uh,” Sora paused, “I don’t think so. I should be okay.”

The two of them started walking out of the office, Jay bidding goodbye to the rest of his exhausted coworkers as they went. Luke was nowhere to be found, and the man standing there in the security uniform instead of Luke instantly brought a smile to Jay’s face. The shaggy hair was achingly familiar, and the man looked up to see who was exiting. A smile split Jay’s face in response to the man’s, and for some reason it just felt right to drop his briefcase and sprint to the man.

“Cole!” Jay exclaimed, jumping into the bigger man’s arms and hugging him tight. Cole laughed, reciprocating, and a rush of familiarity made him light-headed even though Jay only met this guy once before. Jay stayed there for a minute or two before realizing how weird it probably was to be hugging your security guard, and pulled back after a minute; Cole’s grip made it a little difficult, almost as if the ravenette didn’t want to let Jay go.

His head started throbbing, trying to conjure up all of the fragments that he could remember about Cole, but the only things that came to his mind were the drawings hanging up on his walls. They couldn’t be everything that Jay had from Cole, not when his arms made him feel safer than the Administration security forces ever did.

Smile still on his face, Cole put his hands on his hips. “Guess who got the job?”

“You did?” Jay guessed, and Cole flexed his large muscles as confirmation. Someone coughed from behind them and Jay belatedly realized that Sora was still standing there, looking very confused. Her eyes were wide as they looked at Cole, and Cole’s eyes widened in response.

“Oh! Sora, this is Cole. Cole, this is my intern Sora. She’s great,” Jay babbled, not noticing the tension starting to leak into the air. Instead, all he could focus on was that now he had his two favorite people in the entirety of the Administration in the same hallway. You would be surprised at how hard that was to accomplish in a building with over 300 floors.

“Yeah, we’ve met before,” Sora said stiffly, and Jay caught a brief glimpse of Cole making a shushing motion before he turned to look at his intern.

“Oh shit, really?”

“I saw her in the elevator the other day,” Cole said quickly, and Sora’s face scrunched in confusion before clearing. “We had a good talk about, uh, the printers and everything! Right Sora?”

“Printers?” Jay asked.

“Right! Printers!” Sora said, picking up Jay’s briefcase and handing it to him. “Pesky little things, right? C’mon, we should get going. We still have to get to your apartment.”

Jay sighed, patting Cole’s arm as he faced the now fixed elevator. “She’s right. Sorry man, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“I can walk with you,” Cole blurted, and Jay paused.

“Don’t you have to stay here and keep watch?”

“With all due respect, Jay, I don’t think anyone’s going to be breaking into the accounting department after 8 P.M. I can walk you to your house and come back. I’ll even walk Sora to wherever she needs to be so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Well, what did he have to lose? His job? Maybe that would be a free excuse to finally get out of this damn place.

“If you’re sure,” Jay said, walking to the elevator. He tried to hide the pep in his step, shoving his lightning down as far as it would go. There had already been way too many close calls with Sora, he couldn’t slip up now. “I’m on floor 275, so it might take a couple minutes.”

“Totally fine,” Cole assured, watching as Jay drew out his keycard and swiped it. The elevator dinged not even a minute later, and the three of them stepped inside as the doors closed behind them with their signature soft woosh. Cole was standing abnormally close to Jay, something that the man would’ve normally minded if it was anyone but Cole. Somehow it just felt right when it was Cole.

Some strange feeling of dread started to creep over him, but he knew it wasn’t from Cole and Sora. Memories tugged at his senses, and his sight started to blur with colors that Jay wasn’t familiar with as sounds pinged off of the elevator walls. What was happening?

Jay started babbling about random nonsense to pass the time, a nervous habit of his, but neither Cole nor Sora tried to stop him. If anything, Cole looked like he was hanging on every one of Jay’s words, and it was a nice change from the constant ignoring or fake interest from Jay’s coworkers. Now that Jay was looking at Cole properly, trying to focus on something he could see and process, he did kinda look like the black ninja from the pictures. His hair was a bit longer, and his face was a bit more weathered, but there was definitely a resemblance.

“Say, Cole,” Jay started, cutting his rant about the horrors of cardstock paper short, “would you happen to know anything about a group called the Ninja?”

Cole choked on air. Sora looked slightly alarmed and quickly whacked him on the back, Cole finally catching his breath and looking at Jay with wide eyes. “What?”

“If you’re from Ninjago, then you should know who the Ninja are, right?” Jay continued. His mouth felt weird from saying the word.

“O-Oh yeah,” Cole scratched the back of his head, “I guess you could say that. I, uh, actually knew them before the Merge happened?”

“What was the girl like?” Jay asked, fiddling with his sleeves. He couldn’t shake the feeling of deja vu, even though he knew for a fact that he had never been in this kind of situation before. “She’s really pretty, you know.”

The elevator whirred as it went up, and Jay noticed that Cole didn’t seem to be feeling any of the normal motion sickness effects. Maybe he was already accustomed to it. “I know,” Cole said, “I think you and her would’ve gotten along really well, Jay.”

“Seriously?” Jay’s face brightened, and Sora made a fake gagging sound in the background. “Shut it, Sora. What did she like? What did she eat? Is she still here? Is she nice?”

He grabbed the front of Cole’s shirt, reeling with sensory input from the memories, preparing himself to ask the most important question of all. “Is her favorite color blue?!”

The security guard looked a little startled at how close Jay had gotten in the past minute, but then he relaxed, chuckling. “Yeah, buddy, her favorite color is blue.”

Buddy. The word awakened something in Jay, and suddenly he was clutching onto Cole for a reason other than to be dramatic. 

Lightning flashed in his head, blisteringly hot and turning his vision white as he gripped onto Cole’s shirt. Cole was saying his name but Jay couldn’t speak, his tongue feeling like a wad of cotton in his mouth as he was gasping for air. The elevator kept going up and up and up, but all Jay felt was falling down-

Crashing onto his knees, Jay kept heaving, feeling Sora’s hand on his back and Cole’s on his chest as his vision blurred with tears. Finally, the elevator came to a stop, and Jay couldn’t help the relief that came over him when he realized that he was finally going to be able to go home. But no matter how much he tried his knees wouldn’t move, and more tears came to his eyes when he realized that the others were going to have to help him get home. They were going to see what was in the apartment.

They were going to abandon him. Who wants to be friends with someone who was losing his fucking mind?

“Get him up,” Cole ordered, and Sora came up on Jay’s other side. She draped his arm across her shoulders and lifted, and the two of them dragged him out of the elevator and down the hallway. Jay was still getting his bearings back, head spinning out of control as the carpeted floor suddenly looked very inviting yet again. Anything was better than having to face them after something like this.

Sora scanned the hallway, looking at each of the numbered plates. “I don’t know which one is his!”

“64,” Jay croaked, and Cole found it almost immediately. The poor office worker tried to give the security guard his keycard, and Cole refused it at first, instead taking up a stance that indicated that he was going to kick Jay’s door down. Jay did not feel like explaining that to the house inspection team on top of everything else. “You break my door down and I’ll break your spine.”

“You could definitely try,” Cole grunted, but he heeded Jay’s warning, instead taking the keycard and swiping it.

A soft click, and the larger man pushed the door open. Sora brought Jay in and set him down on his ratty old couch, the man sinking into the cushions and slamming his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look around his apartment. Sora rubbed his shoulder, asking if he was okay, and then she noticed the drawings.

“Jay, what the hell is all of this?” she said, reaching out and touching one of the many pieces of paper. It was the first one he did back in his office, before he ever met her, of the Black Ninja in all of his glory and bearing a striking resemblance to the new security guard. Cole was also examining them, biting his lip as his fingers brushed across the one with the Black Ninja falling into the dark cloud. Jay never did manage to find any information on something like that happening in Ninjago. “Are-are you going crazy?”

“I…” Jay paused, “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Because he didn’t. He really, really didn’t.

And that scared him.

Looking away from the drawing, he watched as Cole’s hands tightened into fists, his face contorting into something that Jay didn’t recognize. Resignation? “There’s something that I should probably tell you,” Cole said softly, turning to look Jay in the eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here, Jay. You never were.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jay said bitterly, blunt with hurt. “You think that I don’t know that I wasn’t meant to be here?”

“How much do you remember?”

Jay’s shoulders hitched. “Nothing. I don’t remember anything before this stupid place. All of these, all of them, they’re from my dreams. I don’t know what they’re trying to tell me, and I-I don’t even know if they mean anything.”

There was a box of tissues placed down next to him, and Jay glanced up to see Sora giving him a soft smile. “Here, these might help. Just take a few minutes, we’re not going anywhere.”

Grabbing up one of the tissues, Jay began to try and clean himself up a little, but he felt just as shattered and broken as he did on the first day he woke up. He had woken up in a bed, the same bed in his apartment, with only a note on the nightstand about how he had been in a coma from a workplace accident and that he was expected to be in his office at the normal time.

He didn’t know where his office was. He didn’t know the normal time. All he knew was that nothing, nothing felt right when he woke up and it hadn’t gotten better in three years of working in the Administration. There was always some small voice inside of him, whispering that he was destined for something greater than fixing copy machines, but-but..

Jay was trapped. He didn’t even know what he could say to get him out of that place.

But..but maybe they could help him get out.

Sora picked something up out of the box with his gi, left open on his messy desk, and Jay’s heart sank when he saw the light gleaming off of it. It was something that he only had second-hand knowledge about from his parents, and even that was fuzzy, but it was the only explanation he had to go off of because the Administration did not consider information about Ninjago traditions very important.

His Ying-Yang medallion.

Cole sucked in a breath when he saw it, eyes watering. “You still have that?”

“You know what it is?” Jay asked, standing up and instantly having to sit back down from the dizziness. He motioned for Sora to come closer, and took the medallion when she offered it. “Please, Cole, you have to tell me everything you know about this.”

Please. Please. They—they had to know something he didn’t, something to get him out and to see her—

Silence.

Sora wouldn’t meet Jay’s eyes, but he wasn’t giving her much of his attention; most of his attention was on the security guard, whose eyes softened, and Jay was startled to see tears forming at the corners. Cole quickly wiped them away with his jacket sleeve, grunting, before looking back up at Jay. Earthen brown on electric blue. Jay had the sinking feeling that this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

Maybe it had something to do with the drawing of the two figures trapped deep in an arena pit, staring each other down from atop a pillar. It was dark, and there was a green blade gleaming in the corner of his vision when he was fighting for his spot on the pillar, but he could still hear the sounds of screaming applause echoing in his ears. Jay knew now who was the one in the black suit, but..he never managed to dream up who the second person could’ve possibly been. Whose eyes he was looking through.

“Her-her name is Nya,” Cole started, his hands clenched into fists. “She’s the Elemental Master of Water, and my-my sister. You’re my brother.”

“My parents didn’t have another kid,” Jay said. Something wasn’t right. “They were too old. Is your name even Cole? Or was that a lie too?” The idea of Cole lying to him about this was nauseating, and Jay wished that he was still sitting down in the elevator, hitting the bottom floor and wishing that the cable would’ve snapped so he would be plummeting straight down to hell. Maybe he was already there.

“I’m not Ed and Edna’s kid, and I wasn’t lying about my name. I’m not lying to you,” breathing out of his nose, Cole met Jay’s eyes, hardening with a resolve that sent tingles up Jay’s spine. “Jay, I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to tell you, okay? You cannot freak out on me.”

Jay nodded, struggling to swallow past the lump of anxiety and fear in his throat. What-what was he?

Cole sighed. “You’re a Ninja, Jay.”

Yeah, he was in hell. Maybe he would’ve preferred the high water.

[imdoingaokay]

R!Companions If The Inquisitor Dies

(A/N) I like angst. Sowwy.

I’m a Cullen girlie so I started thinking of what he would be like if his Inky died and… I made this.

Also, I want to say that, without The Inquisitor, I genuinely don’t think The Inquisition would last that long. And I don’t think it’s because The Inquisition would lack leadership or anything, I think it would lack the draw or the figurehead that would garner the support needed to maintain it. So it’s kind of implied that the Inquisition disbands. 

It is also implied that this all takes place a while after Corypheus is defeated… Except for Solas’ part (hehehehe)

TW: Death, descriptions of death, burning and burying (idk maybe you’re claustrophobic), and more sadness.

Major Spoilers

Sorry again, love you pookie bear

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Blackwall watches The Inquisitor fall, he tried to shield them, but it all happened too fast, far too fast for him to realize what was happening. He’s rushing over to his friend as fast as possible as if that’ll prevent them from dying, but once he sees how limp The Inquisitor is, even he knows that his friend is dead.

His only comfort is that their death was quick and hopefully, painless. He’ll throw himself into the drink for a little while. Just for the period of time right before and after The Inquisitor’s funeral. Afterward, he stays with The Inquisition for some time. He does what he can, making the adjustment.

He leaves much later, whether to the custody of the Grey Wardens or himself, but he never forgets his friend, never forgets what they did for him.

Romanced, he’s rushing over to his lover, scooping them up in his arms while he pulls them away. He begs them to open their eyes and pleads with the Maker to not take them away… not yet. But when the battle is over, and the rest of the party sees Rainer and The Inquisitor, it’s obvious that their friend and his lover his gone.

He drinks for a bit longer than he would if he was just a friend, and is less able to help around Skyhold. With what little he is doing, he feels like a coward, but he simply can’t will himself to get up and help. 

Eventually, he’ll leave like he would before, but as he watches them burn or bury his lover’s body, he realizes that a part of him will be locked away in his lover. He’ll still be him, but he’ll be unable to show the same love and devotion to anyone else.

Cassandra: Cassandra is immediately slicing the bastard who killed her friend, and with a quick swipe of her blade, the offender is gone. She still turns to her friend and attempts to wake them, but after feeling for their pulse, even she realizes that her friend is dead. She solemnly waits for the rest of the group to gather around and help her transport her friend's body back to Skyhold, as is most likely the one sending the letter to Leliana of the Inquisitor’s death. Initially, she thinks of taking the role of Inquisitor, only to immediately reject the idea. However, she continues to work tirelessly to help the rest of The Inquisition deal with the death of their leader, but it’s hard. She also tries to help the lover of The Inquisitor, but even though she tries, she can’t seem to find the right words to comfort them. She’s struggling too, The Inquisitor was her friend as well.

Romanced, she’s immediately dragging her lover away, crying out for them, but even she has to accept that she has lost another lover.

She does everything she would if the pair wasn’t together, but she officially swears off love. No one else can measure up to Regalyan or her Inquisitor. And with her focus now on the Seekers and The Inquisition, Cassandra finds herself unable to focus on things like love.

Cole: He knows immediately that The Inquisitor is gone. It doesn’t help, of course. All he does is shout for his friend, but once the battle dies down, Cole watches the rest of the group gather around the motionless Inquisitor. Cole whispers that their friend is dead, which potentially leads to some angry words being thrown at him, depending on who is present.

He stays around Skyhold, mostly helping those who grieve The Inquisitor. He spends most of his time with The Inquisitor’s love interest if they had one. He finds his efforts fruitful, as some of those he attempts to help accept it far easier than some. But the ones that don’t accept his help, Cole knows they need it the most. So he sends others to help instead, people willing to talk to them, and comfort them. Part of him feels The Inquisitor’s spirit from far away, and he hopes they aren’t too upset with his antics.

He’s just trying to help, after all. Kind of like The Inquisitor.

Cullen Rutherford: He hears about it right after Leliana, a letter attached to a bird flies through the hole in his roof and down the ladder right to his desk. He absentmindedly opens the letter, where he reads frantic, scrawled words that culminate in some of the most dreadful words he’d ever read.

“The Inquisitor is dead.”

He rushes over to Leliana, who is already speaking to Josephine, and all three retreat to the War Room where they begin to discuss what the next steps are. Cullen does his best to put on a brave face, he does what he can to provide some sense of stability, but he’d be a liar if he wasn’t struggling himself. The Inquisitor seemed so… invincible, so strong, how were they able to survive so much and then just… die? It didn’t make any sense.

The most Cullen is able to do is send a prayer to Andraste, asking her to give The Inquisitor a safe journey to The Golden City, they deserved that much.

Eventually, Cullen will head home, to his siblings in South Reach, where they will accept him with open arms. Cullen continues to live on, spending time with his family, teaching his nephew chess, and sending letters to his friends in The Inquisition. He sets up a clinic for former templars and even gets a Mabari down the line.

But most importantly, he keeps on living.

Romanced, he was just thinking about them. He was sitting at his desk, musing over some paperwork while his mind drifted to a few days ago. He was laying in bed with his lover, while they clung to his chest, asking for reasons not to leave on this trip. He had laughed, petting their hair gently as he said “You have to go, my love.”

He watched them sigh and get up, their hand still lingering on his arm, “I love you” they had whispered. 

“I love you t-”

“Cullen.” He heard, Leliana standing in front of his desk. He smiled for a moment, about to greet her, but her furrowed eyebrows and deepened frown told her there was nothing to smile about. Her next words were careful and gentle, but still, they got their point across. “I’m afraid that The Inquisitor perished in the ensuing battle.” She said, watching Cullen’s face morph into something unexplainable. He furrowed his own brown and opened his mouth as if he was about to ask what kind of joke this was, but as he saw the painfully sympathetic look on Leliana’s face, he knew.

He moved so suddenly his chair fell backward, he could barely look at the desk where he and his lover had-

“We need to discuss… the next steps…” Cullen shook his head, his breathing becoming rapid, all he could hear was his own heartbeat, that and the singing of…

“Perhaps we should-” Leliana began, only to watch Cullen pass by her. But with every step he took, he felt his legs slowly become heavier and heavier until he all but collapsed on the bridge that connected the battlements to the rotunda. Leliana quickly followed after him, attempting to comfort him. His head hurts, and he can’t seem to stop hearing the agonizing sound of the lyrium, calling out to him.

Somehow he gets into his bed, unable to work for the rest of the day. When his lover’s body comes back from wherever they were sent, he’s in a bit of a better place. Maker, it crushes him if he sees that they were still holding onto his coin. He prays that they won’t go too far, that they’ll wait for him on the other side, and that somehow, they’ll be there when he dies. He begs them not to go too far, that he’ll be with them soon, that he loves them, and he’ll never forget them. 

It takes more time, but eventually, he finds himself back in South Reach, where he opens a clinic for templars and lives his life. But even then, he waits for the day when he dies, the day he can finally see his lover again.

Until then, he’ll keep living.

Dorian Pavus: Shoots the bastard as soon as he sees his friend fall. Dorian surrounds The Inquisitor with a shield and tries to feel for a pulse. But their body is still and limp, Dorian knows what has happened. 

He attends the funeral, out of respect, and out of a sense of loyalty. But he can’t bear to watch the body be buried or burned, Maker he can’t watch. He’ll leave, deciding to focus his energy on Tevinter rather than The Inquisition, which is something he planned, but he had wished he would have more time before he had to return. He misses his friend every day and hopes that whatever afterlife they’re in, if they are in one, hopefully, they’ll save him a seat and a glass of wine for when he eventually kicks the bucket.

Romanced, he cries out, rushing over to his lover. He’s in denial as he tries to heal his Amatus, begging them to open their eyes. He pleads with the Maker, begging them to take him instead. He gets angry right after, angrily shouting at them “Why didn’t you get away? Why didn’t you run to me?” He has to be pulled off, has to be taken away from his lover’s body, as he begins to sob into his lover’s armor. It’s painful to watch, but nothing more painful than what Dorian feels.

As his lover’s funeral draw near, he throws himself into wine. And intends to drink himself to death, but then he gets sent a letter from another Magister, Maevaris.

He tells himself that he’ll keep living, at least, for The Inquisitor’s sake. But he’ll never love again, because he’s too busy, and because no other man will ever be the same as his Inquisitor.

Iron Bull: He shouts for his friend immediately, destroying the poor sod who killed The Inquisitor before they can desecrate the body further. Bull has seen many, many dead bodies, but he never imagined one day seeing The Inquisitor. Of course, he’s imagined the necessary steps of subduing The Inquisitor if they ever tried to betray him out of nowhere, but he would never imagine them like this.

He attends the funeral of The Inquisitor and tries to figure out what the next step is for him, for The Chargers. 

He’ll leave eventually, as his place was by The Inquisitor, but with them gone, there’s no need for him or his crew. He goes out drinking with The Chargers before they leave Skyhold, and he invites the rest of the inner circle, encouraging them to tell stories of The Inquisitor’s antics. It turns into a more pleasant night than anyone expected. When he leaves, he hopes that he left the rest of his friends with more positive memories than sad ones.

Romanced, all he can get out is a weak “kadan?”

He doesn’t cry, not yet, not here. He waits until he’s back in Skyhold, where he sits in the tavern, unable to stop thinking about the way his lover fell, the way their hair looked, their mouth, their eyes… Maker, their eyes. All of a sudden, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, seeing Krem. It’s a simple “You okay, boss?” But that’s all it takes for Bull to let lose a torrent of tears. He clings so tightly to the dragon tooth necklace his lover gave him that he thinks he might break it. Krem and the rest of The Chargers comfort their leader the best they can, but everyone realizes that there isn’t much that can be done, as the love Bull held for his Inquisitor was far deeper than he ever described up until that moment. But The Chargers will be there for him. It’s Krem that makes the comment that The Inquisitor isn’t really gone, as the dragon tooth still is with Bull, 

“Which means something, doesn’t it Boss?”

Bull can’t help but agree, Krem’s right. The Inquisitor hasn’t left him, and he hasn’t left them either. Even when he leaves Skyhold with the rest of The Chargers, he hasn’t left them. They’re always together.

Josephine Montilyet: Josephine has the heavy task of informing the general public and the nobles of the Inquisitor’s death. Her friend’s death hurt, but she was relieved that her amount of work seemed to distract her from the heavy amount of pain she felt. She’ll leave eventually, but not without saying goodbye to her friend during their funeral. She ends up back in Antiva, working to see that her family’s business is upheld, especially after all the work her friend had put into helping her restore her family’s fortune. Platonically, she takes The Inquisitor’s death the best out of everyone but it also helps that she wasn’t present for her friend's death in the first place.

Romanced, she was not expecting it. She was minding her own business, scribbling down a letter for some high-ranking noble in Ferelden. Then all of a sudden, Leliana walks in, solemn and quiet. Leliana allows Josephine to send her a letter before Leliana asks Josephine to take a walk with her. After all, Leliana thinks her friend deserves some privacy before she hears the news. So Leliana ushers an oblivious Josephine into the War Room, where Cullen was already waiting.

Everyone could hear Josephine’s anguished cries from any corner of Skyhold. Josephine clings to Leliana, unable to support her weight as her mind tries to picture her lover in various different positions. Her mind immediately goes to what she will say to the nobility, to the chantry, but Leliana hushes her diplomat, claiming that she’ll take care of it. Josephine doesn’t want her to, but she can’t seem to get out any words in between her sobs.

She moves back to Antiva fairly soon, once all is taken care of. She begins to focus more so on her family and their trading business, potentially using this as an excuse to avoid any marriage proposals given by other nobles.

Leliana: Aside from those in the direct party, Leliana is the first to find out. She’s the one to tell Josephine, Cullen, and the many soldiers and spies under her. She prefers to be the person who tells The Inquisitor’s lover if they don’t already know, and she watches them crumble or slowly slink away, unable to truly cope with the news.

She spends time praying, asking why The Maker would take someone like The Inquisitor away when the world still needed them. 

If Hardened, she realizes she will get no answer, and furiously draws away from The Maker, deciding to spend less time praying and more time doing, as The Maker has yet to hear her pleas so far. 

Softened, she’s more kind to herself, she believes that The Maker must’ve taken The Inquisitor back because it was just their time, that it had to be, some good reason… that’s why Leliana has lost someone yet again… That has to be it.

Sera: Watching Inky crumple has her tearing her attention away from whatever they’re fighting. She calls out for help, and attempts to wake her friend, but to no avail. As the battle dies down, she watches as the rest of her friends gather around her. Sera’s confused, after all, The Inquisitor isn’t supposed to die. Not yet. They’ve survived so much! Haven, nobles, that dragon… how… how do they just… die?

She cries at camp, after hiding from everyone else. She feels ashamed of her tears, it takes the sight of someone like Blackwall or Varric to cry for her to feel less bad about her tears. And even then, she still hides them away.

She doesn’t stay in Skyhold for long, unable to attend her friend’s funeral. She believes it’s stupid to hold a funeral for someone when there’s work to be done, so she leaves. She gets back to work as a Red Jenny and never looks back.

Romanced, she cries out. She shakes them, kisses their face, anything to get them to wake. For one moment, she wishes she had magic to heal the wounds her lover had. It’ll take at least two people to drag her away from her Inky, and even then, she’s kicking and screaming. She’s reminded of her dreams where she watches her lover die, she’s reminded of her Inky kissing her cheek and saying in such a stupid voice “I’m not going anywhere”

That stupid liar! That stupid, perfect liar! Why would they lie to her? Why would they say they would never leave when there they were, gone?

She stays for the funeral before leaving, she thinks her lover deserves that much. But even then, she’s only there to say goodbye, which she doesn’t even say. It’s more of a “see you soon” if anything. She carries the memory of her lover with her, which is good enough for her.

Solas: Solas watches his friend stumble, Corypheus was recently killed, the orb destroyed, and his friend… who weakly falls to the ground. He’s torn between leaving and staying. On one hand, if he leaves, he’ll avoid the tormented look of agony The Inquisitor’s friends and lovers will hold. But they might also think that he was the one who killed them. But Solas can’t bring himself to leave, so he goes to his friend’s side. They’re gone by the time he catches them, and Solas quietly wishes that The Inquisitor didn’t have to die. He watches his friend’s inner circle climb the stairs and listens to the heartbreak that follows. While his friend’s body is carried away, Solas slips away and disappears, in hopes nobody will care or notice he’s gone. He continues his quest to tear down the veil, and with seemingly nobody to stop him, he seems to be well on his way.

Romanced, he rushes immediately to his lover’s side, but the moment he reaches them, his Inquisitor is gone. It isn’t relieving, watching his ex-lover die, the one person he expected to keep him tethered to the idea that this world may still deserve a chance. He leaves once the body is carried away, and continues his journey, but he is so much sadder. Because, at least if his vhenan was still alive, he could see them in his dreams. Now, all that he sees is their body, as if the spirits of the fade are taunting him with his failures. He hopes, in a way, that he’ll come across his lover’s spirit somewhere, so he can apologize, so can confess everything. But with the vastness of the fade, with the low probability of it all, Solas comes to the conclusion that perhaps he doesn’t deserve such closure, he just wished he could give that to his vhenan instead.

Varric Tethras: He doesn’t realize they're dead at first, focusing more on the hordes of enemies he’s dealing with. He shouts out that The Inquisitor is down, but that’s about it. Eventually, when the last of their enemies are taken down, Varric gets a chance to realize what the fuss is all about. When he hears the suffering cries of friends or potentially a lover, Varric realizes what happened. He hangs his head and lets out a quiet “shit” before turning away, unable to look. 

He sticks around Skyhold, helping the Inquisition the best he can before he sees he’s overstayed his welcome, which is when he returns to Kirkwall. Every once in a while, he gets reminded of The Inquisitor’s death, and how… maybe if he had noticed faster, they would still be around.

Romanced, he notices much faster. Previously, he had made a joke that he was actually unable to take his eyes off of his lover, so watching them crumple in the middle of the battle really caught his attention. After a few bolts from Bianca, he rushes over to attempt to revive his lover. Once it registers that his invincible Inquisitor is dead, he’s struck with a terrible feeling of helplessness. He holds them tightly and gives a quick prayer to Andraste or the Creators, someone who could potentially save them. But as his friends gather around him, even Varric has to come to grips with reality.

He’s more introspective in the coming days, staying close to his lover’s body as if he’s waiting for them to spring up and claim some elaborate prank. But as their body burns or is covered by layers of dirt, he accepts that it’s over.

He’ll never really get over the person that helped him move on from Bianca, the person that made him feel like he was the best version of himself. And he’s okay with that. So he just does what’s needed. As with the friendship route, he’ll stick around for a little while, and then return to Kirkwall. But every day that passes, until death finally takes him, he’ll wish for the comfort of his lover, his Inquisitor, once more.

Vivienne: She watches The Inquisitor fall, and quickly rushes over to them. A ward here, a healing spell there, she attempts to revive her colleague, but when she checks for a pulse and feels nothing, she sees that her efforts were for nothing. 

Vivienne is a great help to Skyhold and whoever The Inquisitor’s lover is, even Sera finds Vivienne around to kindly help her through her grief. Vivienne also helps The Inquisition during its more vulnerable stage of healing after The Inquisitor’s death. Once she believed her work was done, she’d eventually return to the fancy courts of Orlais, but not without being prepared to defend the late Inquisitor if anyone dare disgrace their name.

[childofthewargod]

Alright people

Angst time

Ahem

Starting off.....

PJO!Collette!

(Little reminder before hand. Well no actually a note- I had to like age up or age down a few characters to make like theirs and Coco's backstory a little more... Logical? Idk- but just so you know to avoid confusion!)

(This is like their backstory in a summary but also set during a different timeline, it's a little more different when it's like- "canon" as in during the same times as in the books and series)

(TW!!: There are mentions of beating characters up, mentions of character nearly dying, mentions of character's death, mommy and daddy issues, mentions of blood and scars, character is too blind up by anger and let's it get to them too easily, cussing, angst- like a lot of angst.)

PJO!Collette who was made angry and not born angry because of the expectations their mother had, while quite literally being just 8-9

PJO!Collette who could never understand why their mother sprayed them with loads of perfume in order for their smell to not track monsters

PJO!Collette who got sick of their mother's bullshit they were on the edge of running away, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who in the end got told the truth and were simply dropped off at the camp, though not without a monster leaving a nasty scar on their back, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who saw Grover when waking up in the infirmary, debating whether or not he's not worthy of their aggression and sparing him the insults

PJO!Collette who felt agitated to be in cabin 11 and didn't like Luke Castellan for whatever reason that may be

PJO!Collette who got claimed by Ares after getting into a fight with one of his children for shoving their shoulder

PJO!Collette who got along better with their cabin and letting Clarisse get to their head by letting her influence them

PJO!Collette who nearly fucking died during their first quest all because the Spear of Mars was taken by those who were seeking to plunge the world into chaos, to end up with an early birthday "gift" from Ares (which was an electric guitar that could convert to an two headed axe or sword)

PJO!Collette who, at the time, was ten-fucking-years old, during said quest, filled with rage that no child should have, though that anger died down when hearing about a new kid's arrival and that kid ending up being Coco and their beloved best friend

PJO!Collette who was the only child of Ares that had the guts to not back off when Luke said so, despite that Ares kids don't mess with him at all

PJO!Collette who hadn't even met Percy yet and let Clarisse whisper to them from how much of a fraud he is, thus as to why they strongly dislike him and Luke

PJO!Collette who hated Percy more after hearing what he did to Clarisse her spear, just to end up letting their anger get the best of them and nearly beating him to a pulp had it not been for Coco and Cole interfering and holding them back ("There's nothing special about you! You just got lucky because you don't know anything about being a demigod, you don't know the hell we all went through and you walk in acting like you know what you're doing!")

PJO!Collette who, despite that their cabin was known to be quite hotheaded, ended up being the only one who had to take anger management classes because apparently their anger was a level too high

PJO!Collette who couldn't be nice to neither Percy or Annabeth for the life of them, but would be less aggressive when it comes to Grover, way more with Coco

PJO!Collette who was the last one to stay behind to finish listening to the Oracle whom said that something horrible was bound to happen if they'd go with Coco, Cole and Chomei on quest, knowing that three was the holy number yet couldn't let Coco out of sight, just to see the consequences of their actions (that being Chomei dying in their place and Cole dying later on despite that it was actually three people during that moment)

PJO!Collette who thought they'd always be the one to carry Coco after every quest, never having thought for a second they'd get carried

PJO!Collette who later on developed feelings for their best friend, though learned that someone else was after her too and was nearly winning her heart (and Luke was certainly following his father's footsteps if he was this good at stealing Coco's heart)

PJO!Collette who did what they could to not let their father down, though, with their mother they stopped trying but she was more understanding than said father.

PJO!Collette who through the years knew it'd be impossible to pleas their father, as neither they nor Clarisse could be the sons he's wanted, learning that he's wanted a soldier and not a child

PJO!Collette who found themselves crying in their mother's arms, knowing she wouldn't belittle them for spilling out the inner turmoil that's been threatening to leak for years

PJO!Collette who ended up being a mama's girl kid instead of a papa's girl kid

PJO!Collette who, somehow, saw the more fatherly side of Mr. D, still grumpy but yet fatherly, too.

PJO!Collette who thought that the reason Ares gave them their crimson sunglasses was to show the supposed faith he never had for them, who went their way to get a leather jacket like his only to later on discover that the sunglasses were meant to be thrown away and instead given to them because like the sunglasses, they should've been thrown away as well

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why, why they ended up developing the same feelings they've felt (and still do) for Coco as for Percy, when clearly, they're unlovable

PJO!Collette who realized that the hatred they felt for Percy and Luke wasn't hatred but Envy, realizing they envied their skills and achievements, realizing that they hurt the both of them not out of spite but because they were jealous and were influenced by Clarisse

PJO!Collette who couldn't understand why they could tolerate Chris Rodriguez more than his brother, why they could tolerate Grover Underwood more than his best friend, why they were practically playing favourites just like their father

PJO!Collette who knew that they couldn't open their heart and reveal what they've been feeling for both the son of Poseidon and the daughter of Demeter, knowing that they would be stuck being FWB with said daughter of Demeter. And only they knew that they could label it as such because she didn't know a thing.

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why Percy was still being nice to them, why they continued being a dick to him because it's the role they've forced themselves to play through the years

PJO!Collette who knew time was ticking and therefore chosen to do something nice before they'd eventually leave

PJO!Collette who sacrificed themselves as a last way to show that they've given up the battle and couldn't be strong anymore

PJO!Collette who only managed to confess to Coco with a blade against their throat before it got cut, falling deeper in Tartarus if that's even possible, knowing that Grover would be the only one to genuinely witness their belated redemption and change of heart, that the others couldn't witness it like he did

PJO!Collette who couldn't feel their face getting cradled by Coco, couldn't feel her tears on her face and couldn't feel how they'd be the one getting carried by her now

PJO!Collette who didn't care whether they'd go to the fields of punishments or to Asphodel, knowing that wherever they'd land they'll be fine with it

PJO!Collette who ended up serving Hades and Persephone as their Royal Knight instead, not knowing that for once Ares said something genuinely nice and put in a good word for them to put them in said position, to spare them for they have went through enough

PJO!Collette who, till this day, still loves Coco, still loves Percy.

PJO!Collette who in the end, after everything that's happened, despite everything.

They still loved their father.

(I'm tagging @intriq @fallingwaynes @wanderingoracle @dottedlove @iwillsarcasmthemonstersaway @chaotic-child-of-apollo @scarletbeast @oliviachildofaries @thatonebitheaterkid @rayof-damnsunshine @thisisireneshesoutofcontext @dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine @amazing-war-god-ares @will-solace-aaaaa @saph-nic @13callisto @yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades @evelynnisfrpinkiepie)

(That's about it)

[sio-writes]

Into the Woods - Chapter 5 + Epilogue

<<<Chapter 1

<<Chapter 4

*toots trumpet* It's here! It's good to be back, and with a final chapter too! Thank you all so much for your patience; I'm very excited to continue all my serials!

TW for blood mentions, light violence and injury

Cole drops the bear trap onto the kitchen counter with a loud thunk, and the chains attached to the sides rattle as they fall. The noise brings your uncle out of his room, and he looks to the trap, then scans both of you for injuries and, finding none, looks back to you in confusion.

"Courtesy of my father," Cole says.

Your uncle curses under his breath and runs a hand over his head. "That man is a monster."

Cole scoffs. "You're telling me."

As Cole relays how the two of you came across the trap, you stare it down like it's going to grow legs and vault off the table. A shiver runs up and down your spine, how chilling what could’ve happened had you taken just two steps off the trail. The metal teeth gleam in the afternoon sunlight, brand new and razor sharp. It would've taken your foot clean off.

Cole isn't safe here, not with his father a stone's throw up-river and clearly enough time and money to have someone setting bear traps in the woods. He's only going to get ballsier the longer you all wait.

“We need to do something,” you find yourself saying, interrupting the conversation between Cole and your uncle. They pause, surprised you spoke up, and they stare at you for a moment before your uncle blows air through his lips.

"We do. But I'm sending you home, kid. If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

Your stomach drops. Send you away? You're the one who found Cole in the first place! "No," you say firmly, planting your feet apart and folding your arms over your chest. "I'm not going."

"This ain't your fight," your uncle snaps back. "William ain't gonna hold back, and you're gonna get hurt!"

"So are you!"

"I can deal with that!" your uncle shouts, gesturing to himself, and then violently to Cole. "He can deal with that! We're not risking you!"

"He's going to kill you!"

"Then at least he won't kill you!"

You look to Cole for back-up, but he's looking very pointedly at his feet. So, they spoke about this beforehand. Without you.

Betrayal, got and acrid, slices through your gut, and anger replaces the shock. "This is bullshit! I'm not leaving you alone!"

"You are leaving!!" your uncle screams, and it's like the whole cabin shakes. You've never seen your uncle this upset before. He can get frustrated, sure, but never outright angry, and certainly never at you. The worst you've ever seen is when he broke a toe slamming it into a table.

Seeing something in your expression, your uncle relents, stepping back as if he feels guilty. He shoves his hands in his pockets and fixes his gaze to a point by your knees. This is the stance he gets when he's about to give you bad news, like when the cat died, or your aunt was diagnosed with Stage 2 Lymphoma.

"I already called your folks," he says quietly. Cole's head whips around, just as shocked as you are.

The room tilts, and you feel yourself reeling. Your stomach lurches again like you're going to throw up, and you fall backwards until you feel your back against the countertop.

"I thought we agreed…" Cole starts, but a glance at you cuts his sentence short.

"Things change," your uncle replies, still quiet.

And that's that. Your uncle is more stubborn than you and Cole combined, and when he's made up his mind, there's no changing it. With nothing left to say, you stalk out of the kitchen before you start crying in front of either of them.

Slamming the door to your room doesn't make you feel any better, it only makes you feel petty and childish as you drag your suitcase out from underneath the bed and pop it open. Slowly, you begin to pack your things away, trying not to fume at your uncle.

He just wants what's best for you, he always has. But now he's falling into the same bad habit your parents have: treating you like a kid. You came here to escape being brushed off, treated as incompetent. Your uncle was one of the last family members to respect you as a full-fledged person instead of an obligation. Now you're just a liability, again.

It feels petulant to complain about being seen as immature, but you're in college, damn it, you graduate next spring. You managed all your own scholarships and transportation and classes and living arrangements, and even pulled straight-A's. But none of that responsibility counts now, apparently, and you're being sent away like an unwanted step-child being sent to military school.

A quick trip to the bathroom, and then you dump all your shit on top of your clothes, not caring if anything leaks or ruins your stuff or whatever. After wrapping up your chargers and sitting on the suitcase to zip it shut, you're left with nothing to do.

The packing left you facing the window. It's the middle of the day and there's a breeze blowing all the pine trees around, and you can hear the sound they make, can smell the pine needles. It makes your brain itch to go outside and roll in the mud, just to feel something other than hurting.

This sucks.

A knock at the door pulls you away from moping, a knock that you almost ignore until you look up and see that it's Cole, hunched in the doorway. He's fiddling with something in his hands, and he's not looking at you.

"Are you mad?" he asks quietly.

You bite your tongue against the swell of anger in your gut. He colluded with your uncle behind your back, he betrayed you, and now he's probably going to die and there's nothing you can do about it.

So you turn your head away from him and stick your nose in the air.

Cole isn't deterred. He slowly walks around you, not as a dominating gesture, you think, but as a way to clearly broadcast his movements and give either one of you plenty of time to react. A habit likely picked up around his father, you realize, and the anger inside you fizzles away a little bit, enough to allow you to turn your head and acknowledge him.

"Your uncle gave me this." Cole turns over the device in his hands, you realize it's your ancient Razor flip-phone in hot pink. It had been a hand-me-down from your sister, and you'd left it at the cabin by 'accident' on your very first trip out here. After a long lecture about responsibility and the cost of electronics, your parents bought you a new phone, and you figured your uncle had just recycled the old one. It hadn't even occurred to you that he kept it.

"He put a new, um, sim card in? I think?" Cole says, presenting it to you in both hands like an offering. The case is still chipped from when Melody dropped it the first day of school, and there's a scratch on the camera lens from when you sliced it in your pocket with your keys, but otherwise it's held up pretty well.

You stare at the phone. Cole can text you, Cole can call you. You can check up on him, ask how his day was, tell him to take care of himself.

It's more than that, though. This is a way to talk, to spend time together even if it's digitally. He's holding a connection in his hands, and you have so few of those. So you grab the phone and key your number in with shaking fingers, sending yourself a text and almost sighing in relief when you feel your own phone buzz in your pocket.

"Call me at any time," you say, handing the Razor back to Cole. He smiles at you, the expression shy and reserved,and he gently punches your arm.

**

Several hours later, your parents pick you up and drive you back home. They don't say much, don't ask you about the trip, or talk about why you needed to come home. Your uncle didn't share the reason he gave your parents, and you weren't speaking to him by the time you walked out the door.

Still, you're not grounded, there's no yelling, and you're upstairs unpacking before dinner as if everything's normal.

You float through the next week, bored senseless. You finish your homework assignments. You read every book on your shelf, scroll through every Instagram post, clean every corner of the house twice. You're not sure why, but you don't text any of your friends that you're back early. It doesn't feel real after all you've seen.

You're stepping out of the shower when your phone buzzes, a text from Cole.

I'm learning how to text.

You smile at the screen. Doing good so far!

How are you?

Bored af

Me to. Your uncle is teaching me how to shoot.

The message isn't a surprise, but you're still taken back by the announcement. Cole continues to tell you that he's also being made to do laundry and dry the dishes, "human work" as he calls it. You idle away the time catching up, your thumbs flying over the keyboard until you fall asleep. You talk for days, so much that your mother has to take away your phone at dinnertime.

You think nothing of a text that comes in close to 1am, so you lazily pick up your phone and squint at the text.

Dad. Help

**

The door to the cabin is hanging on by a single hinge, haphazardly placed back into its frame like whoever knocked it loose wanted to avoid suspicion. But the windows are broken, there's dirt and blood and deep scratch marks on the porch steps.

You called, hung up, and ignored 911's return call as you pulled off the main road and down the long, winding driveway to the cabin, so you have about twenty minutes before any emergency services arrive. The note you'd left on the kitchen counter hopefully keeps your parents from having dual heart attacks, but you leave your phone in the car in case they wake up and try to call you.

As you pick your way around the broken glass, you catch the light of your screen in the car, either Mom or 911. A part of you wants the security of having another person at the end of the line, but another part doesn't want to risk anyone hearing.

The tables, couch, and every chair is turned over, there's glass scattered on shards on the floor, and splatters of blood paint the wall. The first thing you see is the first thing you grab - a metal baseball bat from middle school. Small, but solid.

You hear a noise like a whining dog coming from your room, followed by the vicious noise of a fight and you rush down the hall, glass popping beneath your boots. The scrap grows louder and louder as you approach your room, and you turn the corner and try to cover your scream.

Your uncle is pinned between your upturned bed and the wall, unconscious and dripping blood. One of his arms is unnaturally bent below the elbow, the other mottled so mottled with bites and tears that glimpses of muscle and bone shine peek between the skin.

Opposite him are two wolves-- the source of the noise. You recognize the smaller one, gray fur, big eyes: Cole. He's bleeding from several places and one for is held in a limp, and he's not as thin as when you first met. He's nothing compared to the monster between the two of you.

It's the size of a mountain lion, with dark, ragged fur caked in blood and dirt. William Ackerman.

It happens too fast for you to think. The hound freezes, then sniffs the air. He starts to turn towards you, and you catch your first glimpse of his face, of bright yellow eyes and a muzzle covered in blood, before your body reacts before you realize what's happening, swinging the bat down and across the beast's shoulders with a scream of rage. It connects with a sharp thwack! that reverberates up your arms, enough that you're sure it's going to break something, but you blink and--

He barely flinched.

William Ackerman turns to you, slowly, deliberately, as you try to process how he could withstand a direct hit from a metal baseball bat without even moving.

Your feet freeze to the floor at the same time that he rips the bat from your hands with his teeth and tosses it casually across the room.

He opens his muzzle, and a low, rasping voice makes the room tremble. "Audacious little thing, aren't you?"

Your arms break out in goosebumps. Your heart rate picks up, your hands get clammy; This must be what cornered rabbits feel like. "Here to save your family?"

He steps forward, ignoring Cole in favor of locking eyes with you, and you take a step back. "Ah-ah," he chides, snout dripping blood as his lips curl in a menacing smile.

William launches himself towards you.

If you had reacted a split-second later, his teeth would have dug into your gut. Instead, you twist just in time to avoid the spray of wood chips from the door frame.

You scramble down the hallway, not daring to look back. William snarls and the sound is inches away, it's like you can pinpoint the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck. This animal is going to rip out your throat, and no one can stop him.

So, you do what he'd least expect, and turn on your heel, swing one leg back as far as you can, and meet that yellow gaze before your boot makes contact with the beast's jaw. His claws drag along your calf, a deep gash onto your skin as William flies to the left in a blur of gray and red.

He hits the floor and Cole is on him in an instant, both of them a tangle of fur and teeth and hatred. "Cole!" you shout, not entirely sure which form is his anymore, both are so covered in blood. Neither wolf acknowledges you, too wrapped up in trying to kill the other that your words fall on deaf ears. The rip of fur and wet crunch of fangs into flesh makes your skin crawl, but you have to try again or your friend is going to die.

"COLE!" You scream, plunging into the fray to try and tear the two apart and nearly losing a hand in the process.

William bites at your arm, missing by a few hairs, but giving Cole the opening he needs the knock William to the ground, where he doesn't move to standing.

Like a sign from above, the world is suddenly awash in flashing red and blue lights, and the wail of police sirens fill the air.

Cole growls at his father, a deep, guttural noise and it's almost like William shrinks away from it.

You collapse to your uncle's side as the men start to transform back into their human bodies. You search frantically for signs of life until you catch the near imperceptible rise and fall of your uncle's chest. The pool of blood at his feet is even bigger than before, but he's breathing. You made it. You all made it.

As the paramedics and police fill the room, the world turns hazy at the edges and you're finally allowed the space to process that you're sitting in a puddle of your own blood, but you're safe. You're all going to be okay. You start to cry.

**

Epilogue

A jury of eighteen only needed three hours to unanimously decide that William Ackerman will rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life.

Somehow, the werewolf secret is kept secret, even the first responders and the defense lawyer hadn't picked up on it. It was never brought up in court, and William made no moves to reveal himself.

You only need a handful of stitches for your leg, and wrapping it in gauze before every shower is annoying, and it hurts when you move too fast, but you're glad to just have all your limbs intact. Cole had three broken ribs and needed a blood transfusion and several of his nails had been torn, but he's alive. He's alive, and he's free of his horrible father.

The moment you're able, you go to the hospital and directly to your uncle. When he sees you and your mom in the doorway, he waves with his good arm, the one that's not immobilized. "You made it!"

His words are slurred, and the whiteboard on the wall tells you that they'd administered a hefty dose of pain medication about an hour ago. Arm broken in three places, half his ribs cracked, a broken nose and all manner of bruising, he's lucky to be alive. The swelling in his face has gone down, but he's still purple and blue all over. "How ya doin', kiddo?"

You rub the back of your neck. "I'm grounded for a month for taking the car, but at least my wardens are nice."

Your mom wraps a protective arm over your shoulder.

"As for Cole," she continues for you, "He's under house arrest and has court orders for a full psych eval.-- I know, I know, but he's not a minor like we thought. He thought he was only fifteen, did you know that? He's closer to nineteen or twenty."

You share a glance with your uncle, and he blows a low note through his lips. "Jesus, I'm glad we got him out. What happens now?"

"Frankly, he's going to need a lot of therapy. But he's tough, just like this one," she pats your shoulder. "Does the same stupid things, too," she adds, but there's no malice to it.

You and Mom stay another hour catching your uncle up on the trial and the results. He promises to let you see whatever renovations they'll be doing on the cabin before your last semester of school, and promises that Cole will always have a place to sleep there. It's a comfort that, as you leave, you know this happened because of you, that your family is alive because of your actions.

**

Watching the sunset from your roof always makes you feel like you're in some kind of coming-of-age movie, and today that feeling has increased tenfold. The Sun paints every roof in purples and oranges, the sky a beautiful combination of nighttime stars and the final rays of the day.

It's only after you tuck your knees to your chest and sigh heavily that a voice from down below calls out, "You okay?"

Cole is standing on the ground, looking the same save for a heavy gauze bandage around his forearm. Before you can answer, he jumps impossibly high and uses his good arm to climb onto the roof, and he sits next to you, mimicking your posture.

He looks exhausted. There's dark circles under his eyes and his skin is swallow.

"I'm okay," you say, looking back out to the sunset. "Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "I couldn't stay there, it all smells like my father."

You carefully grab his hand and squeeze it reassuringly. "I'm sorry. You can stay here, I'm sure my mom and dad won't mind."

Cole shakes his head sadly. "No, I have to go back to talk to their doctor. Maybe she can figure out what's wrong with me."

Then he laughs. The noise is raspy, but it's there, and you're so glad to hear it. You join in, sharing the joke as you bump Cole's shoulder with your own.

Things aren't perfect, not yet, but you've got your family, old and new on your side now. With their support, you know you can conquer anything.

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 16: Necrosis

Swamp (pond) + "No, I can't feel anything"

3271 Words; Coleverlord, 7 and 2 years pre-canon

TW for drowning, attempted filicide, near-death experiences, emotional manipulation, repeated use of bugs as symbolism

AO3 ver

“Lilly, what were you thinking?”

The words were spoken in a low hiss, almost inaudible to Cole as he approached the kitchen. He came to stop just before the doorway as his mother’s voice filtered out into the hall.

“That’s not—I’m only doing what I have to.” She said, sounding strained, and Cole shuffled forwards nervously. He leaned around the frame and peered through the doorway.

+=+=+=+=+

The rock overturned, shedding light on the creatures below.

The afternoon sun shone bright overhead, while the soil beneath the mud was soft and damp. Cole stared as a particularly large roly-poly crawled along the underside of the rock. A centipede scurried away from the light to another rock to hide under, and Cole shoved his hand into the dirt—there!

Cole yanked the worm out of the dirt and held it, looking it over as it wriggled. The eight year old left the rock upside-down as he stood to go find his mom, intent on showing her his prize.

+=+=+=+=+

The waiting room smelled vaguely floral, in a way that Cole wasn’t sure was from perfume or cleaning products. There weren’t many other people here besides him and his dad—just another visitor talking quietly with the receptionist.

Cole wasn’t entirely sure why he was even here. It was a weekend, and he had dance practice in two hours, and there wasn’t really much to do here in the waiting room—which added up to one bored thirteen year old. Still, his dad had insisted, and there wasn’t much else Cole could do; it got him out of the house in a way that his lack of friends couldn’t do.

(The garden pond had been empty for years now.)

Eventually, a nurse came along, standing before them with a warm smile. It scrabbled at the back of Cole’s mind, and the nurse twitched before sliding their eyes away from Cole and onto his dad.

“She’s ready for visitors, right this way.”

+=+=+=+=+

She had been acting kind of… different, lately, though Cole couldn’t really pinpoint when the changes started. But it felt like she looked at him less, or kept ending conversations early. She was going on more of her trips, too, and telling him less about her adventures when she got back. It felt… Cole frowned, then shrugged, leaning to look around one of his mom’s prized rose bushes.

(It felt cold, like a whisper in his mind. But when Cole reached out for his mother so she could banish that shadow creeping up his back—

She turned away.)

+=+=+=+=+

Both of his parents were backlit by the setting sun through the window over the sink, casting shadows that reached the door. They moved like a dance—constantly responding to each other, movements made in tandem. Cole had never seen his parents dance like this, though, all tense and angry.

(And he was the cause of that, wasn’t he?)

“By trying to drown our son?!” His dad’s voice was low, trembling, on the verge of spilling out to a yell. Cole had seen his dad upset, and disappointed, and worried before—but never quite like this, never quite so unsteady.

+=+=+=+=+

There she was, kneeling by the pond she had dug a few years ago. She was wearing that sunhat dad had gotten her for her birthday, the one that Cole had helped him pick out, with the shiny fake beetle settled among pretty fake flowers along the band. She was humming, a tune Cole recognized from one of dad’s songs, and Cole grinned.

“Momma, look!” Where a year ago Cole would have run right up to his mom without hesitation, now he approached more carefully.

His mom’s gaze snapped up from the dandelion she had been carefully digging out to him, eyes wide for a moment before they narrowed. “Cole.” She greeted, not unkindly—she hadn’t called him her little Pebble in a while. Cole was sure it was because he was almost nine—his mom must have thought him too old for baby nicknames. She smiled, but made no further movement towards Cole. The dandelion in her hands twisted slightly.

+=+=+=+=+

The halls of the place had the same vaguely floral scent as the waiting room, but with a more chemical undertone. So probably cleaning products. Ants marched a spiral under Cole’s skin, cobwebs at the edge of his vision. The nurse picked up the pace.

Finally, with his dad’s hand on his shoulder, they made it to room 424. The nurse scurried off, and Cole’s dad took the first step through the doorway, to the room beyond.

After a moment, Cole followed, shadows thick around his ankles.

(Cole still hated going out to the garden if he could help it.)

+=+=+=+=+

“Look!” Cole proudly showed off what he had managed to find, opening his hand so his mom could see the worm in full. “That’s another one for the compost bin, right?” He wasn’t sure why it felt like his mom was drifting away, lately, but she was still his mom. She’d always love him—of that he was sure.

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” His mom agreed, then, “but the compost bin has enough worms.” She gripped the stem of the dandelion a little tighter, and added, “Why don’t you put the worm back where you found it? We wouldn’t want it to dry out.”

+=+=+=+=+

“That’s not my son!” His mother argued, gripping the counter with enough force to crack it. “That—that’s not Cole.” She repeated, her whole body wound up like a spring. “That—that thing—can’t you see our son is gone?”

(What had Cole done wrong?)

“Lilly…” Cole watched as his dad reached out, hand ghosting over his mother’s shoulder before retreating. “My love, you’re not well.” He sighed, muttering something Cole didn’t catch.

Cole flinched back as sudden pain spiked in his head. The shadows creeping into the hall seemed to melt, something clawing its way towards his parents. They didn’t notice the motion, didn’t react to the creeping crawling clawing in their shadows—

+=+=+=+=+

“Oh.” Well, it was still a cool worm, so it wasn’t like Cole had really wasted his mom’s time. “Okay.” He turned around to go find that rock, worm in hand. His mom watched him go, and her gaze felt like a shadow scurrying up Cole’s neck.

Cole returned to the rocks to find most of the revealed critters had either gone further into the dirt or under other rocks. Cole hummed as he scraped out a small depression in the soil with his fingers, then he gently set the worm into it. “Eat lots of dirt and keep the soil healthy, okay?” He covered the worm with loose soil, patted it for luck, then slowly reset the rock so that the spot was covered again.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother smiled warmly. She looked different than Cole remembered, much of her strength lost to illness. She also seemed… shorter.

You’ve gotten taller, Vessel.

Oh, yeah that.

Cole glanced at his dad, who nodded towards Cole’s mother. After a moment, Cole approached, something squirming in his chest. His mother opened her mouth to speak—

Only to be cut off by a cough that made her shoulders heave and shake. Cole’s chest itched, a little like a burn but not quite.

How far the mighty have fallen.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole wandered around for a bit, poking at the soil between the rocks and looking for weeds to pull, dirt on his hands and knees getting smeared onto his arms and shins—somehow. It wasn’t like he was trying to get covered in dirt, it just sort of happened. Much to his dad’s chagrin and mom’s amusement—though the last time Cole had unthinkingly tracked mud into the house, his dad fretting and asking him to please go wash his hands before dinner, his mom hadn’t said a thing.

As Cole wandered around, he ended up somewhere behind his mom, who had moved on to inspecting her roses while Cole began to dig at the soil where he was sitting. After digging and covering a few holes, his mom had ended up standing by the pond again, bending down to look at the water while Cole hummed.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother pulled back sharply. “I’m fine.” She said, harsher than Cole had ever heard her talk to his dad.

(Why didn’t his mother want him anymore?)

“Lilly,” His dad was speaking through grit teeth, “I came home to find you drowning Cole in the pond.” He grabbed at her arm. “You’re not well.” His expression softened, for a moment, and he stepped forwards. “My love—”

“Don’t call me that.” Cole’s mother snapped, shadow clawing up her back. Cole’s head pounded.

+=+=+=+=+

“Cole?” His mom’s voice floated over to where Cole was, soft and… nahh, Cole was just imagining that uncertainty. His mom fought dragons; she could never be uncertain!

“Yeah?” Cole asked, looking up from the hole he’d been digging—and then moving to put the soil back real quick before standing up.

“Can you come here?” His mom wasn’t looking at him, instead staring at the water. Cole stared at the floral print of her shirt—old and faded from time; she’d had that shirt for as long as Cole could remember and often wore it when gardening—at the sunlight on her back. It looked much warmer than the shadow he could feel clinging to his—even though the sun was beaming down onto Cole all the same.

+=+=+=+=+

His dad’s hand on his back prompted Cole to shuffle forwards, close enough to the bed for him to see his mother clearly. There was a chair there—one of his dad’s jackets was slung over the back. It was the only chair, but Cole took it at his dad’s prompting.

The shadow in his mind raised Its hackles. Cole stared at his mother—he wasn’t sure what else to do. He hadn’t seen her since…

(rough rock against his shins cold water around his chest and head and arms face pressed into the mud chest burning—)

Shh, hush now.

The memory fled to the back of his mind. Cole shifted in his seat as his mother and dad greeted each other.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole stood as his mom’s words registered. The shadow at his heels hissed, cold around Cole’s ankles. For a moment he felt held in place, before he shook it off. “Yeah, Momma?” He walked over to stand at his mom’s side, a thin line of stones separating him from the pond. “What’d you need?”

One moment he was standing next to the river-smooth rocks lining the edge of the pond, his mother kneeling next to him. And then he was under the pond water, his legs folded under him as a heavy hand pushed him down by his shoulders.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole stumbled back, away from the door and the way his parents were moving together like a dance except wrong, away away away until he was in his bedroom and the kitchen felt like a distant memory.

Light from the setting sun filtered in, hazy through the thin curtains. Cole flicked the light switch, but it did nothing to banish the shadows dancing at the corners of his vision. His head swam, and he swallowed hard.

(What was wrong with him?)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole sputtered, palms smacking against the mud at the bottom of the pond as he tried to push himself out. The hands on his shoulders only pushed harder, impossibly heavy against his back. Cole squirmed, holding his breath as he tried to—to wiggle free, or push himself up—

The mud at the bottom of the pond was very soft, and very slick. Tiny fish scattered away from Cole’s thrashing, and he couldn’t breathe—

Momma where are you come help—

Cole struggled, but the hands on his back pushed down harder, his nose inches away from the mud at the bottom of the pond. Why wasn’t—where was—his mom had just been right there, how was he—

Momma, I’m scared.

+=+=+=+=+

“And how have you been?” It took Cole a moment to realize his mother was talking to him. Something about her words made him uneasy, isopods scuttling around his organs. His dad had stepped out of the room at some point, though Cole had no idea why.

“Fine.” Cole answered, not sure what else to say.

(She’d said he wasn’t his son.)

“That’s… good.” Was his mother getting nervous? Well, that wasn’t unusual—Cole had that effect on people.

(“You’re a freak.” An upended milk carton soaking into his hair and shirt—)

“Are you… doing well in school?” His mother asked. “I…” her lips pursed, “heard you got into a fight.”

“They started it.” Cole responded, pulling his legs up and folding them in front of his chest, resting his chin on his knees. Worms wiggled up his spine. “I finished it.”

(Between talking to classmates and being left alone, Cole preferred being left alone.)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole gasped, water rushing in as he inhaled against his will. He tried to kick his legs, but couldn’t quite manage it with how they had buckled under him. Cold water rushed down his throat, burning into his lungs—

Cole choked. The hands on his back leaked cold shadows that crawled all over his body, whispers slinking around behind his eyes like roly-polys under the rocks. He was too tired to thrash, now, his chest burning burning burning as cold spilled out from his core. The hands on his back pulled back, for a brief moment, then shoved down with such force that Cole’s face was pressed into the mud, cold water crawling up his legs towards his ankles.

Momma, I ‘ m      s c   a      r e d—

.

.

.

The heavy shadows at his back shifted. Cole drifted, not quite aware as something burst into the water and grabbed his shoulders. The new hands yanked, and Cole came up out of the mud and then the water, hair plastered to his forehead.

Cole stumbled backwards, warm arms wrapping around him. Someone was talking, but Cole couldn’t quite hear it through the rushing in his ears and the shadow clawing up his chest and the whispers in his throat. Something inside him seemed to shift—

Cole vomited, hacking up water. His chest burned, muddy pond water dribbling from his lips down his chin onto the rocks before him as he coughed and coughed and coughed.

+=+=+=+=+

His head hurt. The shadows swirled, cascading across his room. It sounded like whispers. It sounded like too many ants marching along, every footstep magnified so that he could hear it. Cole rubbed at his arms, brushed still-damp hair away from his forehead—it wasn’t enough. There was something creeping up his back and arms and neck and chest, something clawing at his ribs from the inside.

Cole stumbled back, legs catching on his bed. He laid there, staring up at the ceiling, at the way the shadows interlaced with the light of the setting sun.

The shadow creeping up his back curled around his shoulders like a blanket made from the twitching legs of a thousand house centipedes. Like a spider, something crawled along the inside of his head as whispers blinked in and out of Cole’s vision.

There is nothing wrong with you, Vessel.

Cole blinked. He glanced around, looking for the source of the voice—

His head wrenched to the side as if pulled by some invisible hand, locking his gaze on the mirror on his closet door.

+=+=+=+=+

The smear of colors that was the world started to resolve itself; Cole’s dad was staring at him, hair ruffled and chest heaving.

Cole’s head hurt. Water had soaked into all of his clothes, cold and heavy. His mom said something sharply behind him, and Cole’s head twisted to look back at her of its own accord.

Her hands were soaked, and her shirt must have been splashed at some point, splattered with wet spots. There was mud on her knees, and her sunhat had fallen off at some point, some of her hair having fallen loose from its bun.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother smiled. It was clearly strained. Cole stared at her, a million ants marching around in his skull. Shadows clung to the walls like cobwebs, slowly dripping down and reaching for his mother. He wondered why his dad had stepped out of the room—was his mother really doing that much better, now that she didn’t have to look at him?

Well. Better being a relative term—she was still sick and slowly dying, but at least she could look at him without wanting to shove him in the nearest body of water.

His mother looked away, her breaths coming in stuttered and shaky. So… not doing better, then.

Of course not. Get away from her, Vessel. She will only bring you to ruin.

His mother grabbed for her panic button, shadows clawing at the bed from all sides. Cole’s head pounded in a distant sort of way, millions of skittering spiders creeping under his skin. He wrapped his arms around his knees, curling up tighter as though it might somehow save him from the crushing pressing in on all sides—

And then his dad’s hand was back on Cole’s shoulder, and Cole was being led out of the room while his mother struggled to breathe through painful-sounding coughs and her own panic. Cole let himself be shuffled down the hall, chest wound tight the entire way to the waiting room.

His dad looked pained. “She had been doing so well…” he mumbled, not quite low enough for Cole not to hear.

Cole grimaced. His head stopped throbbing, the ants and the spiders and the centipedes and the worms and the isopods and the bees and the flies coming to a rest, shadows receding to the very edges of his vision.

It clawed at his brain, hissing reassurance while Cole sat in the waiting room. His dad had gone back, leaving Cole alone except for the receptionist, who was busy with her computer and didn’t really count.

(He preferred to be left alone—though, in truth, Cole was never alone.)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole’s dad gave him one more smack on the back, and Cole coughed up spit and water. His dad’s hands were also wet, but they weren’t heavy against Cole’s back.

Something tickled at the back of Cole’s head. His eyes slipped closed, the world blurring around him as shadows danced across his vision. His parents were—they were saying stuff to each other, but Cole couldn’t make out the words. His father’s tie became a smear of color against his suit.

Cole slumped forwards, shadows filling his vision.

+=+=+=+=+

His eyes looked… funny. Not quite right. There was something fuzzy in Cole’s head, something slithering around inside his skull, leaching out from his eyes to cradle his head. Cole tried to look away, but his head wouldn’t move at all.

(Cold mud against his face and water in his chest—)

Shh, hush now.

The memory retreated back to the eves of Cole’s mind, hidden under crawling shadow as Cole continued to stare at his reflection. The voice in his head crooned, a lilting melody filling Cole’s ears.

You have done nothing wrong, Vessel.

The voice… it sounded right. It felt like flies buzzing inside his skull, but—

Cole’s head pounded, but the pain was distant, now. The lingering burn in his chest faded, and Cole watched, disinterested, as the shadows in his reflection shifted into a smiling face. His worry melted away.

The sun had set to the point where barely any light was filtering into Cole’s room, now, and he could hardly see his reflection in the gloom. But two glowing points in the mirror grinned at him, shadows carding through still-damp hair.

Cole’s eyes slipped closed, shadows filling his vision.

[rileyxmaddox]

[cis woman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [RILEY MADDOX]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ZOË KRAVITZ]. You must be the [THIRTY-FIVE] year old [BARTENDER AT FOUR LEAF IRISH PUB]. Word is your [ADAPTABLE] but can also be a bit [DISTRUSTING] and your favorite song is [DISPARATE YOUTH by SANTIGOLD]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [FISHER'S COVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

INFORMATION:

fullname. riley jean maddox

nicknames. riles, doc.

gender. cis woman

pronouns. she / her

d.o.b. may 31st, 1989 | ( 35 years old )

astrology. gemini ☀ aquarius ☾  aries ↑

birth place. brooklyn, new york city.

hometown. brooklyn, new york city.

current residence. aurora bay, california. ( @aurorabayaesthetic​ )

occupation. bartender at four leaf irish pub.

religion. none.

tattoos. several (here and here).

piercings. several ears, both nipples, septum piercing.

marital status. single.

sexual preference. bisexual.

family. louise maddox ( mother ), unknown ( father ), cole walters ( foster brother ).

children. none.

CHARACTER INSPO:

eleanor shellstrop ( the good place ), sarah manning ( orphan black ), letty ortiz ( the fast & the furious ), alex stern ( ninth house ), selina kyle ( batman ), gillian owens ( practical magic ).

PERSONALITY:

+ adaptable, spirited, opportunistic. - sarcastic, distrusting, irrational.

BIOGRAPHY:

( tw: car accident, death, crime, drugs mention, violence, domestic violence ) 

There’s not much known about where exactly Riley Maddox came from. Some may say she came straight from the pits of hell. The only memory that comes to mind when thinking of a time before being shuffled from foster home to foster home is of a beautiful brunette looking at her in the rearview mirror of a beat up car. A warm smile, two bright headlights coming towards them and then, nothing but darkness.

Police would say it was a drunk driver but Riley was never sure which driver exactly was to blame for her mother’s death.

Jumping from foster home to foster home for all of her childhood, Riley learned very quickly that people are mostly not to be trusted. Running away, starting fights, whatever she could to get through until she was old enough to be on her own. When she was just eight years old, she met the ying to her yang. Cole Walters was around the same age and just as angry. They were inseparable from the moment they met, forever causing trouble and simply being the bane of their social worker’s existence. 

Try as they might to keep the two separated, they’d always find each other. And Cole is the only person that Riley has ever considered to be as close to family. 

As they grew, so did their anger. Juvenile delinquents who had nothing to lose. 

A perfect storm of bad intentions, they’d hit up liquor stores, sneak into clubs, start fires. Whatever they could to feel something. Riley’s specialty was stealing cars. While her mind wasn’t academically smart, she was always curious about how things worked, taking things apart and putting them back together.

Stealing cars for joy rides were a regular occurrence but selling them for parts was more lucrative. But there was only so much one can do in a busy city without getting noticed. On the precipice of aging out of the system, Riley wasn’t about to let Cole start a new life without her so they decided to run. 

Escaping from Brooklyn in a stolen car, they road-tripped around the States, making money and making trouble. It was tiring, always scrounging for cash, moving from place to place. Riley never longed to be still.

Stillness always came at a cost. 

One night, after spending all their cash on whatever the hell they felt like, the two decided to rob a liquor store with a stolen gun that Riley had taken from an ex-lover. With her waiting in the getaway car out the back, it felt like every run they’d done before. But this one was different. 

As shots were fired from inside and the sirens came in the distance, Riley knew that she had to bail. Once the police had arrested Cole, she knew it wasn’t long before they took her too. After destroying the car beyond recognition, she waited for them to come. But they didn’t. Cole didn’t breathe a word. 

After his conviction, Cole got five years for attempted robbery and theft of a firearm and Riley wanted to say that she’d never leave his side for what he did for her and all they’d been through, but that wasn't the case. They'd been on the run for so long, she didn't know how to sit still. Jumping from place to place around the country but it never felt the same without her brother, she always needed someone else to hold her down and keep her steady.

She ended up in Arizona, working in a local mechanic when she met Kyle. At first, Riley thought they were perfect for each other. He worked as a boxing instructor at the local rink wanting to make it to the big-time, but Riley knew he was never gonna get there. ( tw: domestic violence ) Their relationship was tumultuous, screaming rows and thrown objects at each other. For Kyle looking at another girl's ass at a bar, for Riley getting home too late from the mechanic's where she worked, for Kyle taking steroids to keep up with other fighters at the gym. It only took one time for him to give her a black eye for her to know she needed to leave. Once that boundary is broken, it only gets more frequent from there.

At this time, Riley knew that Cole had finally gotten out and was living in some beach town in California. She hadn't contacted him, worrying that he'd hate her for never visiting but with her face half beat to shit, Riley didn't have anywhere to go. She left in the middle of the night, stole her car boyfriend’s car and drove straight into Aurora Bay to find him.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS:

coming soon!

CURRENT CONNECTIONS:

foster sister of @colexwalters

[luvmmarner]

Cole Caufield - 1 step forward, 3 steps back

PART OF THE SOUR SERIES (gif not mine) TW: kissing (not explicit) happy ending!! This would be more on the happier side with a happy ending since y'all do deserve one or two happy endings in this series <3

Flashbacks are marked with " * " - ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟʟʏ

ꜱᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴠᴇ

You two had a fantastic beginning to your relationship. But things continued to deteriorate over time. You couldn't even call him without infuriating him. When all you did was speak to him calmly, you didn't understand why he became irate. It was developing into a routine. 

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

ɪ'ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅ

Every step you attempted to take to rekindle the connection. It would spark an argument and make matters worse. You didn’t understand one day you were the love of his life and the next you were nothing.

*flashback*

You made the choice to make Cole dinner as he prepared to come home from a roadie. You always cooked when he was coming home because it was something he liked and you did it frequently. Olive's excitement-induced barking was the first indication that Cole had entered the room. You on the other hand didn't even notice he was home until he shocked you with a tight hug from behind.

"Dinner is set out. I recently made it". You said while attempting to contain your hesitancy. Since he was typically irritated when he got home, he seldom ever gave you a hug. You briefly considered the possibility that he might have changed.

Once you had finished cleaning the dishes. You moved to take a seat on the couch right next to him. His glance turned to you. He had something to say, as seen by the expression on his face, but it seemed likely that he would keep it to himself. 

“What?” In anticipation of an answer, you return his gaze.

He shakes his head and remains silent before turning to face the TV, which was showing the hockey game from hours before. "You haven't said anything to me since I came home," he finally admitted.

"You're typically angry, so that's why."  You immediately responded without pausing to consider your words.

He was getting irate, as seen by the way his grasp on the fork tightened. “This is the worst food I've ever had.” The hate and rage in his words was palpable.

As soon as you heard those words, you felt your joy and optimism that he would change for the better instantly shattered. "But you ate it numerous times." The sadness and hurt from his words was clear as you spoke.

He laughed sarcastically at your words. He made it abundantly clear that he cared nothing about how you were feeling. Instead, he expressed his true sentiments regarding the food. "I only ate it because I didn't want to tell you how awful it really is,"

The disagreement from yesterday was still fresh in your thoughts when you woke up in the morning. You were still half asleep, but not completely asleep to the point where you couldn't hear anything. Cole, though, didn't seem to remember anything at all or it appeared that way. Because you received a kiss on the forehead from Cole as he was getting ready to go. He whispered, perhaps thinking you were still asleep. "I love you so much, you're so gorgeous."

As soon as the door silently closed. It took you a few minutes, but you eventually realised that he had actually said that and that you weren't dreaming. Leaving you even more confused.

*flashback over*

ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴇ, ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ? ʙᴏʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ

Whenever you had an argument from yesterday. In the morning he always seemed to forget about it and tell you, "I love you." You just didn’t understand. One day he loved you and the next he despised you. You just didn’t understand, but you loved him and that’s all that you knew for sure.

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy

I don't understand

No, I don't understand

You knew you loved him and that he loved you back, so you were going to try and make the relationship work one last time. As soon as he came home, You joined him in watching The Big Bang Theory. You knew this was the right moment.

“Even though we fight and we both end up hurt, I still love you, Cole. I miss you and I long for the affection we shared from the beginning. I want you to look at me with the same amount of love and passion that you used to. Specifically, I want the old us back.” You said, you could feel the nerves all through your body. 

Cole wrapped you in a hug. His smile was brighter than ever. “I love you too and that’s what I want back as well. I don't ever want to lose you. I'm done arguing with you. I care too much about you, and I don’t want to lose you by my foolishness. I don’t want to have anymore disagreements, and instead of me becoming angry, we will talk about it. I promise” he spoke softly, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

That’s all you needed to hear. You knew this relationship would work now and his words made you believe and fall in love with him even more.

[yanderelegoninjago]

hi !! I like to request a part 2 of the romantic moment with lloyd !! where he does get a kid and surprise his uncle and dad with this 🥺

Aw, I didn't expect ppl to like that and want more tbh :) This request is so old

Summary: [Aged Up] Everyone wants to see the new ninja baby Tw: Kids/Baby

Lloyd always knew he wanted a kid. He read all those parent books, even 'Parenting for Dummies' because he wanted to be the Father he never had. But there was one thing he wasn't prepared for: you going into labor.

I mean he obviously knew you were going to go into labor eventually, but you were angry and yelling, not to mention crying. Even through all that, he was the happiest man in the world when his daughter was born. She looked just like you, but had his eyes. It was love at first sight.

The bliss only lasted a few minutes, because you were quick to call for him to give you your child. He was hesitant, but he did give her up.

"Aww, she has your eyes," You looked at her lovingly and Lloyd smiled.

-----

"So where is she?"

"She's in her room recovering-"

"She means the baby, dingus," Kai punches Lloyd's bi-cep, but not in a way that would hurt.

Lloyd awkwardly smiles, before nodding his head, "Sorry, it's been a long night. She's with my dad."

"Your dad?" Cole was taken by surprise. "That's new."

"Y/n's in the room with him. He wouldn't do anything. He's not that stupid."

"He is your dad," Kai jokes, but Lloyd rolls his eyes.

Nya finally pushes her way through the boys, Jay close behind, "So what room is she in? We have to see the baby!" Nya and Jay nearly jump at the idea of holding a baby.

"Well, I don't know if you can all go in right now. Like two or three at a time."

"Well, I'm going in first," Nya says.

"Anyone else wants to go first?" He turns to Cole, who was now sitting down, keys in his hand, "Or you can wait a few hours and she'll be out."

"I'm sure the rest of us can wait-"

"I want to go with Nya-" Jay whines, and Lloyd shrugs.

"Then you can come too, Jay."

----

You glared at the door, angry that Lloyd had left you alone with his father. You loved Lloyd, but his father just knew how to get under your skin. If he made one more stupid remark or even a joke, you were going to skin him alive.

"So D/n [Daughter Name] Lloyd?"

"Yeah."

"Did you give her that name-"

"We agreed on the name." You don't even look towards the male, just praying that Lloyd would walk in at any moment.

"Shame really."

You finally turn to him, your face a bright red and you were frowning. "If you don't shut up, I will take out all these needles and push them so deep into your skin that when I pull them back out, your skin will be pulled off too. I will pluck your eyebrows with this pen," You grab a pen from next to you, "To make sure you never see my daughter again, if you do not shut up."

"So graphic... You should be careful around your daughter."

"Oh my god, I'm going to kill you if Lloyd doesn't come through that door right now."

As if God was listening, Lloyd came in and could sense the tension. He looks between you and his dad, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes." You quickly answering smiling, "Your dad was just leaving. Some work thing."

Lloyd looked at his father, confused, "Really?"

"Yes."

Lloyd looks over at you and he finally got it. He nodded his head, and headed out with his dad, but he quickly turned back towards you, "Nya and Jay are waiting outside to see the baby. Can they come in?"

"They've been to the doctor?"

"Yes. All of them."

"Then of course they can."

Suddenly, Nya and Jay are pushing in and cooing to see the baby.

----

"I don't understand why you fight with her."

"I don't fight with her."

Lloyd glares at his father, not believing him. "You can't be serious. I know you both the best. You're always messing with her. I don't know what you want from her."

"She's very violent."

"You're kidding right? You've tried taking over Ninjago multiple times."

Garmadon grimaces, "Who hasn't?"

"God, you just can't stop yourself, can you?"

"What do you mean?"

Lloyd groans, gripping his hair, before sighing, "Maybe... Maybe you should just leave for a few days?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I think it's best to just let Y/n relax for a while before you try invading again."

"You don't want me to see my granddaughter?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying for now, for Y/n's best interest, we all take some space. I'm sorry dad, but I have to think about Y/n and my daughter."

"It's almost like you love them more than me," Garmadon jokes, but Lloyd frowns.

"You don't want my response to that."

"I can catch a hint, son. I guess... Let me know."

"Yeah. I will."

----

"Aww, I love kids," Nya smiles, before talking to the baby.

"It's so strange knowing how babies are made and all-"

"Jay, now is not the time."

"Got it."

Llyod finally comes back and Nya ushers Jay out, but not before Jay hands you back your baby, leaving you two alone.

"So what was it this time?"

You look up at Lloyd, confused. though, you quickly realize what he meant, "You're father always says the worst things."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Lloyd. There's nothing you should be sorry about."

"I know... I just wish-"

"I know Lloyd. Maybe one day. You know, I only put up with him because of you."

Lloyd smiles, before going over and grabbing your hand. "You really are one of a kind, Y/n."

[dark-twist-fairytales]

It's a little short, mostly Kai angst, but the dynamic changed WAY more than I thought it would. I may do something more? I'm a little stuck on writers block, so here's this.

Tw: Injuries (burns)

If his lungs allowed Kai to scream, they would.

Ever since Wu came around, his entire life had turned upside down completely. There should have been signs that Kai wasn't fit for this life: The mention of 'harnessing fire' made his stomach rock, the color red made waves of emotions crash down, envy filled at Jay being deemed blue- So now, with Nya clutched to one side, and the Sword of Fire clutched in his hand, he wanted to scream.

He was fighting a shadow, nothing but pain flooding him as the sword disagreed with him. This was not his sword. Yet, he wasn't letting go, burning seeping past the gloves and coating his hand intensely, an arm wrapped around Nya and holding her protectively. The only thing he could hear his mind screaming was 'let go!' and 'not mine' over and over again.

Too much happened at once, before Kai was face to face with a dragon, hand close to his chest, and Nya behind him. Him and the dragon held a staring contest for a moment, but he simply gave a sigh. "Listen, I know the sword wasn't mine.. But.. Let Nya go and take me. She didn't do anything and has been through enough already." He spoke, not caring for the crazy look Nya gave him. It wasn't until he noticed the dragon laying down, did he actually look and pay attention. Gently, he pet up the dragons snout, sighing as he looked to his hand.

Trembling, his entire arm was, pain spiking through it and stopping short at his shoulder. However, the glove was unharmed, but the tight nature gave away that his hand was badly damaged underneath. A sympathetic and pitiful whine left the dragon, and Kai gently pet him again. Nya approached, before gently undoing Kai's glove to check underneath. Both of them gasped at the sight.

His palm and fingers, where he had been clutching the sword, were swollen and an angry red, almost bruised purple. Blisters were already forming on his palm, this being worse than any sort of burn Kai got in the past. He held back a whine as Nya stretched his hand out to check the full extent of the damage, the dragon giving a quiet growl in sympathy.

"Kai! Sensei!" Cole's voice rang out, filled with concern is it echoed through the fire temple. Nya glanced up at Kai, before shaking her head gently. "I'm taking your place." He said in a hushed tone, with Kai's eyes widening, shaking his head softly in retaliation, but.. After a good moment of Kai listening to his thoughts, he gave a sigh. "Fine, but only after you learn Spinjitzu.. This guys will have to get their dragons first."

----

As silently promised, Kai let Nya don the red gi and started training her. The other three gaave them space and time together, given that Kai never shut up about her helath and safety, so it was an easy excuse. Encouraging words and equally useful tips, Nya was already up to speed on training, which left one finally thing.. Kai settled the dummies that they had near the shop up, his right hand bandaged up from the burns, and having to use his left and non-dominate hand. The dummies weren't exactly training dummies, but they made due. Once set up, Kai turned to Nya:

"Alright. Just like we've practiced. And we only use failure as fuel for our fire!" Kai said, moving backwards and watching Nya. It felt like the worrld stood still as Nya attempted the first time, only to end up face first on the ground. She gave a growl of displeasure at it, sitting up and staring to her spot previous. Kai didn't speak, but that same sentence rang in her mind... 'We only use failure as fuel!'

Standing up again, she went at it backwards faster than she did forwards, jerking around to rush at it again. The fire, it rushed through her veins, warming her entire body, and this attempt felt... Right. It didn't register in her head that Kai was cheering, until she stopped and Kai hugged her tightly. "You did it!"

"I did? I did Spinjitzu?!" Nya exclaimed, looking to Kai in clear shock, as he nodded quickly. "I did Spinjitzu!" She exclaimed, hugging Kai tightly as she let the fire calm within her at Kai's cooler warmth. After a few moments, Kai and Nya pulled away from each other, before heading inside the blacksmith shop to wait forthe other ninja, and to pull off their plan..

----

Flame didn't rat them out. None of the ninja noticed that it was Nya that wore Kai's gi, that held the sword of fire, that formed part of the tornado of creation. And after the success of the mission, she stood beside the ninja with pride, praising each other, and praising Kai. Only, she giggled when Kai suddenly appeared in civilian clothing, with the red ninja still beside Jay. "Glad to see you lot are okay."

"Wha.." Jay started, going speechless as he stared at Kai, then looked to 'Kai', and did this multiple times, until the other two caught on, with Cole rolling his eyes. "Ha-ha, very funny, Kai. Get your gi back on." He said, shaking his head softly, before looking to 'Kai' in the gi, and seeing her drop her hood-

"NYA?!"

"But, that should not be possible. If you hold the sword of fire, it would have burnt you." Sensei Wu spoke, cocking a brow upwards in equal confusion. That was, until Zane spoke up: "Kai got burnt by the sword." Holding up his bandaged hand, Nya held up the sword, showing how it wasn't hurting her at all, all while Kai's right hand and arm trembled from nerve shock. "I told you, I'm not the fire ninja. Nya is your master of fire."

Nya held up the sword, and her entire stance, with pride. Air escaped through her nose, as she looked to Kai. "Don't put this all on me. Without your training, I wouldn't have found the fire within. And your dumb action to continue to hold the sword after it violently said 'not you'."

"And I couldn't have done that without sensei pushing me. It still all leads back, you deserve to be a ninja."

----

With this revelation, Kai and Nya went back to the monastery with the rest. Nya wore the red gi, while Kai wore a pair of black pants and a grey sweater, the other ninja had their own gi's on. Nya, Jay, and Cole talked ahead, eah on their own dragons, with sensei riding on Cole's dragon, and Kai and Zane lingering behind on Zane's dragon. The air felt nice, but he still felt oddly light-headed up here counter to on the ground in their village. Still, Zane's quiet was enough company and comforting for now.

Things at the monastery changed quite a bit as well. Since Kai was injuried and not the fire ninja, he was pulled out of training, and Nya took his place instead. Nya and Zane talked with him, so did Cole a bit, but past that, those two practically ignored his existance. much like when they first met. Sensei Wu had Kai training in time, once his hand had healed to the point of usablity, but his arm now had a pretty consistent tremble to it. Grey became his color of choice, and really, he looked out for Nya as much as she could, but it dawned on him quicker than he would have liked:

Nya doesn't need his protection anymore.

This hit hard the first night, moving outside so he didn't bother the others with his choked sobs and sniffles. The second and third day, he couldn't help but feel a little saddened each time he spotted Nya. He had gone from no one, to part of the team, to now the fire ninja's brother. He didn't look for sympathy, despite how many times Zane worried, or Wu talked with him during missions, he just kept on pushing through. Tomorrow was always another day.

----

Lloyd came around.

While the other four had been busy with the serpentine and undoing Lloyd's past mistakes, he was often left on babysitting duty on the bounty with him. He didn't realize how much he missed the annoyancee of little siblings, but man, it felt relieving when it should have been stressful. It dawned on him quickly that the pranks Lloyd was pulling was for attention and playfullness. He liked that.

One day, it became apparent to the other ninja just of this dynamic, when they got back to the bounty to see Lloyd on Kai's shoulders, the smaller trying his best to climb onto the rafters, with Kai helping as much as he could. Pillows were around them on the floor as a safety messure, which came in useful when Kai's right arm stopped holding Lloyd's weight. If Kai's grip wasn't as tight on his left hand, Lloyd could have injuried himself pretty badly, but it was tight, and it stopped Lloyd from full force headbutting the ground.

The cough of Jay clearing his throat caught Kai's attention, his smile dropping as he settled Lloyd down on the pillows gently so he didn't hurt him. He shot a sheepish smile to the group, Jay being the only one to look extremly unimpressed, before he motioned to the map. "I made a bit of a revelation, while you guys were gone." He said, changing the topic swiftly as Zane and Nya eagerly pressed forward. Kai and Lloyd lead them over to the map, before tossing two darts on the screen by Lloyd, a third one by Kai.

"If we go by the pattern of the three tombs already found, and the types, that means the Constrictai and Venomari will be here and here, respectively. The faster we get to them and stop Pythor from releasing them, the better." Kai said, a small smile on his face as he spoke and motioned to the screen when needed.

"This is great! Me and Jay can go check out the Venomari, and Cole and Zane can check out the Constrictai once we get close enough." Nya said, missing how Kai's eyes lit up for a moment at the minor praise. Shortly after that, Kai settled in the coordinats for their distination and set the bounty off. Nothing could change this.

----

Everything could change this. Nya shoved him out of the way of the falling rocks, trapping her and Lloyd in the volcano, despite how desperately he tried to get to protect them. On the bounty, he could only stare with tears rapidly falling down his cheeks as he volcano exploded, bit of magma flying around. He fell into sobs without realizing, even after seeing Nya fly back in a protective fire wall swirled around her and Lloyd.

After she removed her hood, before she could topple over, Kai immediately wrapped his arms around her to keep her upright. Her head nuzzled into Kai's shoulder as he lifted her up into her arms. Tears freely flowed from Kai's eyes as he held her tightly, only becoming apparent off the sniffles by Nya when she sat up from his shoulder, able to stand on her own. "How did you-?"

"I am so sorry, Kai." Nya's words were entirely to broken for Kai's heart, pulling her back into a tight hug and letting his younger sister cry it out for a moment. "You don't have anything to apologize for.. I'm so proud of you and everything that you do.. How did you find your true potential..?"

"Tha's not important right now." Nya mumbled, and Kai accepted it, nudging the red gi with his face and giving a shakey sigh as his worries finally left him. They would all be okay...

The next coming days were much sweeter than Kai expected, Nya and Lloyd constantly wanting his attention or cuddling. This was much to the complaint of Jay, but Nya nearly immediately shot him down each time in favor of doing something with Kai. This put into perspective for all of them how little Kai had actually been seen around the bounty, despite living there with them. Jay actively had to hunt for Nya and Kai if he wanted attention. Cole had an easier time finding Nya for training. Zane knew were Kai hid around, but mostly made sure the three were safe at night.

But, it wasn't just Nya and Lloyd getting their fix. Kai began to come out and around slowly and steadily, helping out more openly. Zane in the kitchen, giving help there while also allowing the other to just talk about anythingand everything he wanted. He did a similar thing to Jay, actually getting to know him a bit more since him and Nya were offically dating, playing video games and Kai actually showing off his gaming skills. And Cole, being able to help in training again, encouraging Cole on and even sparing from time to time.. He felt alive again. He felt like part of the team.

[colexwalters]

[cismale and he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [COLE WALTERS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [DANIEL SHARMAN]. You must be the [THIRTY FIVE] year old [FRONT DESK AT AURORA BAY LIBRARY]. Word is you’re [LOYAL] but can also be a bit [IMPULSIVE] and your favorite song is [WHITE LINES BY SIX60]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

pinterest + spotify

tw: crime, drugs, violence, abandoment

stats

name: cole walters

nicknames: n/a

age: 34

occupation: reception at aurora bay library

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: heterosexual

birthday: jan 12th 1990

sign: capricorn sun, sagittarius moon, gemini rising

ethnicity: white

hometown: brooklyn, new york

eye color: brown

hair color: black

height: 5’11”

tattoos: incoming

piercings: none

likes- coming soon dislikes- coming soon headcanons- coming soon

Cole was born to a scared teen mom, who dropped him at a fire station when he was only a couple of days old, and that's where it all began. being a baby, his social worker was certain he would find a placement, but Cole never did. For years. He was thrown around to different foster homes, falling witness to numerous bad things over that period. He never learned anything about his parents, and he vowed to never go looking.

His rebellion started young, fights at school, fights with other foster children, pinching things out of school bags, lockers, and even teachers' property somehow not managing to get caught for the last part at least. When he was 8 he met Riley in one of those numerous foster homes. They were similar, they were both angry at the system for different reasons, but wherever they went mayhem followed.

Numerous times they were separated, told they weren’t allowed to see each other but somehow stayed in close contact to wreak havoc on their foster families and social workers. When they became teenagers, what once was just mischief ended up becoming criminal activity so now their aim was to not get caught and this worked.

A perfect storm of bad intentions, they’d hit up liquor stores, sneak into clubs, and start fires. Whatever they could to feel something. Riley's favorite was hotwiring, and Cole enjoyed it too although he preferred nicking things and pickpocketing. Money, jewelry, whatever they wanted; they got. Cole was also dabbling in drugs, and trying not to open his big mouth to avoid an assault charge. He loved fighting too much, he was just lucky nobody ever pressed charges, probably due to one of the various fake names he'd use.

Escaping from Brooklyn in a stolen car, they road-tripped around the States, making money and making trouble. It was tiring, always scrounging for cash, moving from place to place.

One night, after spending all their cash on whatever the hell they felt like, the two decided to rob a liquor store with a stolen gun that Riley had taken from an ex-lover. With her waiting in the getaway car out the back, it felt like every run they’d done before. But this one was different. As shots were fired from inside and the sirens came in the distance, Riley knew that she had to bail. Once the police had arrested Cole, she knew it wasn’t long before they took her too. After destroying the car beyond recognition, she waited for them to come. But they didn’t. Cole didn’t breathe a word.

He got 5 years, but he was out in 3. Perhaps it really should have been a wake-up call for Cole but, it just made him angrier. He knew that after this, he couldn't put her in that situation anymore. He wasn't ready to go straight and narrow, but he also didn't want her to wind up like him so when Cole was released, he told them not to contact her.

Fresh to Aurora Bay, he is officially 'trying' to get his life on track. he's reluctantly got himself a job at the library even though he's never been interested in books in his entire life, in fact. he's not really interested in a lot aside from women & various illegal activities but now he's just settling so he doesn't end up back in prison.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Thank you

masterlist

tw: self harm, forced self harm, depression, captivity, triggering someone on purpose, knives, blood, non-con touch (non sexual), threats, blood loss, breaking someone’s psyche beyond repair basically, kidnapping mention, weightloss and malnutrition mention, dehydration, healed scars, multiple whumpers mentioned, flashback

I wrote this on my way home from university for the weekend (which is like a 4 hour train ride) and I made myself cry with it, and I haven't been able to proofread it or anything so,,, here it goes i guess

Tw again: This is a very fucking heavy piece, i cried through writing it im not even joking biggest dead dove do not eat

To be fair, she was totally unphased by the sight of the knife in Cole’s hand. She welcomed the pain that was to come as an old friend, crying or begging never helped, there was no relief when she was angry at the world, angry at the people keeping her captive, so she just accepted it. It was quiet and calm, maybe not the best decision, but the circumstances left her no choice.

He walked back to her from the table where he kept the array of knives and other fun devices to torture the girl.

“Stand up, please” he reached under her chin, lightly touching the skin. As she was standing up it looked like he was lifting her by the chin just with one finger, and though physically it didn’t work like that, the sheer threat behind the touch basically lifted her. She was a feather and he was the wind making her float.

She was noticably smaller than the man, even though they were almost the same height. Her figure was frail and weak. The long sleeved t-shirt she was wearing covered both her arms, whose muscles used to show through them, not in a bulky way but in one that earned some respect at the gym and she walked around freely, without worrying about being overpowered by someone; it took years of martial arts classes and trainings. It was all gone by now. She didn’t remember how or when it happened but she stopped caring. They didn’t allow her to work out even though she was promised to be let “doing her thing when she wasn’t needed” at first it was the restraints, then the comments turned into threats and punishments that slowly made her stop. It has been too long.

Now she was standing in front of the man, not being able to even breathe without his permission. Cole was always stronger and now he seemed superhuman compared to her.

He looked her up-and-down, twirling the knife in his hand. He seemed to have decided when he looked back to her face, patiently waiting for her to make eye contact.

“Roll your sleeves up” he gestured towards her lower arm with the knife. He grabbed her hand when she did so, and glided the knife playfully over her arm.

He must’ve felt the unevenness of her skin because he held the blade away from her and started carressing the barely visible scars.

She shivered from the touch, it wasn’t necessarily cruel or mocking like it usually is when he touches her, but these scars were different and he seemed to treat them differently and somehow that was so much worse. It was unpredictable.

“Was it… was it Luke?” he asked already knowing the answer was no. She looked away to the floor, felt her cheeks blush with a feeling similar to guilt but she couldn’t quite put a finger on what it actually was.

“No” she whispered. His hand stilled for a moment before carrying on with carressing her skin and turning the knife back towards her.

“Then you’ll be comfortably familiar with this feeling” he smiled and without a second of hesitation drove the knife into her skin. The blade didn’t go too deep, just enough to draw blood.

She stared at the fresh cut and suddenly she was back in her room. Some tiny red drops got onto the carpet and she was thinking about how she’ll have to scrub it out. There wasn’t anyone holding her hand, she was resting it on her lap for a moment. She promised it to herself so many times not to do it again, but she felt like she couldn’t help it when she found the tiny blade in the drawer on her desk. She held it up to the light and read the brand name again, feeling a bit sorry for the small piece of metal, it wasn’t designed for this purpose.

She drew another line on her skin, reveling in the radiating pain that shot up her arm again. It hurt so bad and still not as much as whatever she was dealing with at the time. She felt in control. And she did it again.

She caught herself falling against his chest, grabbing onto her bleeding arm. Not remembereing how she started crying.

“It’s okay” he held her by the elbow. He turned her around hugging her from the back. WIth his left still holding her wrist. The right accidentally dripping blood on her shirt and pants searched for her right hand. She desperately held onto him. As if holding his hand would bring any reconciliation. Suddenly the knife was in her palm and his hand over hers, making her hold it up. It looked so much bigger in her hand. The clean part of the blade glinted dangerously as the grey light from the window hit it. It was already dusking.

‘Your turn” he whispered into her ear, not even waiting for a response just pushing her hand back down, pressing the blade down for the fourth time.

His warmth disappeared from behind her. She was sitting at her desk again. Drawing her own blood over and over again. There was no purpose to it anymore. The pain from the wounds all mixed together it didn’t make a difference.

Why did she even do it? Everything was alright for a while, and all of a sudden it weighed her down. Did she really want something good turn for worse again? Was having it good a bad thing? She didn’t think she deserved it after all. That must’ve been behind the thoughtless movements. Breaking the skin over and over again. Opening old wounds. Creating new ones. Covering it all. That was the rhythm for weeks.

It all stopped when that particular someone held her hand for the first time and helped her up from where she was sitting in her room.

Now the feeling of the hand over hers was much colder. It didn’t radiate warmth and safety through her veins, making her feel at piece with whatever came along the way; it was empty as if Cole’s touch made it all evaporate into nothing cutting through space and time.

He rested his chin on her shoulder inhaling deeply, enjoying the shivers each breath sent down her spine. He felt the warmth of the tears that ran down her face staining his cheek as well.

“Now, thank me” he whispered, slolwy lifting her hand with the knife up. It took her a few seconds to understand the words though she still wasn’t in the place to comprehend them. “Did you hear me?” he asked gently, still threateningly. She moved her head in a way that could’ve been mistaken as a nod and that was enough on his part. He knew she wasn’t grabbing onto the knife so he let go, letting her hand fall limply down to her thigh and the knife to hit the cement ground with loud metallic clatter. She flinched back into his chest with a bit of delayed reaction time. He repeated the order, slowly and quietly.

“Tha- th- thank y-y-you” she stuttered.

“For what?” He let go of her cut up hand to reach across her torso and pull her into a snakelike hug from behind. He pushed a kiss into the crook of her neck smiling, when she didn’t know how to answer. She breathed in, but the air got stuck in her throat and no words came out.

“What are you thanking me for?” his smile grew even wider.

“F- f- for hurting me” her tone suggested she wasn’t sure of the answer being right.

“No” he answered sweetly “You hurt yourself, remember? You held the knife” he tightened the embrace making breathing even more difficult for her. She was panicking, he felt her pulse through her neck quicken.

“for holding m- … -lf” The correct answer struck her like lightning, she couldn’t get it to be audible the first time. Of course it was the one that hurt the most. She took a deep breath, and the words fell from her lips whether she wanted them to or not.

“Thank you for holding my hand while I hurt myself”