#google is of course useless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vbecker10 · 5 months

Note

Could I request headcanons (or a little scenario if that's what you'd prefer) for loki befriending the new member of their team that can turn into a huge bear and she's used as their heavy hitter in fights but since a bear's sense of smell and hearing is much more sensitive than humans she has a tendency to get bad sensory overloads even in casual settings and shifting between forms sometimes leaves her in pain and just basically how they would bond over time and help her through her struggles. Thanks!

Help you Bear It

(I'm not proud of this pun but @soubi001 will be lol)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: As the newest member of the Avengers, you are desperate to prove yourself as a heavy hitter who can keep the others safe. You hide the pain you feel when shifting between your human and bear form during training sessions but while you are on your first mission in the field, Loki knows something is wrong. He tries to support you through your shift back to being human and is curious as to why you fight through the pain when you could just never shift again.

Warnings: fighting, minor injuries, anxiety, some sensory issues, pain when shifting forms, feeling useless, feeling like a monster, abandonment issues - don't worry, Loki is super comforting, fluff at the end

A/N: I'm so so sorry it took me forever to get to this request. I'm finally going through my requests and I thought this idea was super interesting. I sort of ran with it a bit so I hope you don't mind if it's a little different from your ask. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚

lille bjørn - little bear in Norwegian (I asked Google so hopefully that's right lol)

You roar loudly, standing tall on your hind legs as Steve spins and throws his shield towards you. Swinging one of your massive claws, you easily swipe it from the air and send it to the ground with a heavy thud. Your attention is pulled from the Captain by the sound of Clint unleashing a series of arrows in your direction. Running on all fours, you avoid being struck as you close the distance between you and Steve.

Without his shield, Steve has little choice but to turn and run from you, hoping one of the others will distract you until he is armed again. Your head turns towards the sound of another series of arrows leaving Clint's bow and you easily change course. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of red and know the God of Thunder has joined the fight. Your attention now shifts to finding Thor, you take a sniff of the cool air and growl when you catch his scent.

Stalking slowly to the tree he is hiding against, you keep one ear open listening to Steve's footsteps through the tall grass. Just as you reach the tree, another arrow zings past you and you stand on your hind legs for a better view of its origin. You finally see the archer, hidden in the thick leaves of a tree several yards away. He is too far for you to do anything at the moment but at least you've located him. Now back to the god and super soldier, you think, your lips curling to show your sharp teeth.

Lightning cracks overhead and the fur around your neck stands up in response, you let out a low growl. The thunder that follows is not enough to hide Steve's approach from behind and you turn to face him. Again, he throws his shield at you with as much force as he can but you swipe it away, embedding it into a nearby tree. With a roar, you charge forward but at the last second, you turn to your left just in time for Thor to land before you, his red cape fluttering around him in the breeze.

He dodges your charge, leaping out of the way but not in time. You reach for him with one of your large claws and pull him back to the ground by his ankle. He swears loudly in Asgardian as you slam him down on his back but before you can continue your attack, you hear Steve pull his shield free from the tree. Three more arrows fired in quick succession soar towards you, you swerve through them and keep your attention fixed on the Captain. Roaring as you run to meet him, he throws his shield for a third time and for a third time you cast it away.

He stands in front of you, ready to continue the fight without any weapons. You growl as your heavy frame collides with him and you send him backwards onto the ground. You rear up, ready to pin the barely conscious Captain America but your ears perk up, alerting you to the electricity in the air. You quickly lower yourself to be on all fours and move away from him just before lightning strikes where you had been. Thor once more lands just behind you, Mjolnir spinning by the leather handle. He charges towards you and you run to meet him.

You rear up on your hind legs, narrowly avoiding being hit by Mjolnir as Thor releases it. Before it can return to him, you throw your weight forward and force him to the ground on his back causing him to miss catching it. It slams through a tree and buried itself into the ground in a hail of splinters. You loom over Thor, your paws pinning him to the dirt as you roar inches from his face.

He looks up at you then yells, "I yield! I yield."

You sit back immediately and the forest around you fades away. Stark white tiles replace the lush grass, the sun brightens into a row of LED lights on the high ceiling and the sound of birds is turned off. You look to your left and watch the rest of the team applaud and cheer your final test through the floor to ceiling glass wall.

Loki cheers the loudest as the replay of you slamming Thor into the ground is shown on a loop on one of the monitors. "That's how it feels!" he says excitedly, getting up from his seat. He laughs to himself and ignores the judgmental looks from Tony and Fury.

You walk over to Steve and nudge him lightly with your nose as he stands slowly. "I yield too," he says with a light laugh, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and the top of your head with his other hand. "Good job, Y/N," he smiles.

You lay down and rest near the rear of the training room, watching the team leave as they talk and laugh with each other. As soon as the door shuts and the room is empty, you close your eyes and with a deep breath you begin to focus on shifting to your human form. The process is extremely painful and you've been told it's hard to watch so you plan on sparing the others from witnessing it for as long as possible.

You lift your head, suddenly feeling as if someone is in the room with you but as your shift progresses, your senses are overwhelmed and hard to control. With a final roar of pain fading into a groan of agony, you kneel on the floor, fully human again and exhausted.

On shaky legs, you walk over to where you left your backpack and sit heavily on the floor, resting your back against the wall. You grab a bottle of water, drinking the whole thing at once then tear open your protein bar. Your ear twitches and you look up, the feeling of being watched returns. You catch a faint green mist settling near the door but you shake your head when you don't see anyone, assuming your simply exhausted and take a bite of your protein bar.

The next morning you sit between Loki and Steve on the jet, heading to your first mission. Your leg bounces nervously and you chew on your lip until Steve taps your shoulder and pulls you from your anxious thoughts.

"Try to relax," he says in a brotherly tone.

You nod but continue to bounce your leg which happens to be resting against Loki's.

"Will you please stop that," he Loki says few minutes later. You instantly stop moving your leg and make eye contact with the God of Mischief.

"Sorry," you mumble and look down quickly. You place your hands on your knees and take a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

"Thank you," he says calmly as he lowers his eyes back to his book.

"Almost there," Natasha calls over her shoulder from the pilot's seat of the jet.

"Great, thanks Nat," Steve responds as he gets up. "You ready?" he asks, standing over you.

"Mmhmm," you nod. You force yourself to keep your eyes on Steve as you feel Loki's eyes fix on you.

"Are you going to..." Steve waves his hand vaguely at you.

"Shift?" you guess and he nods. "Uh... yea, I mean not right now though," you let out a nervous laugh. "Having a bear on a jet doesn't sound like a great idea right? I'll do it when we land."

"Makes sense," Steve agrees easily with a shrug and leaves you to take the copilot seat next to Natasha.

Loki leans towards you and in a hushed voice says, "Remember to stay calm, lille bjørn. You bested my brother and the captain. You will do well today."

You look up at him but his eyes have returned to his book. "Thanks," you tell him, feeling both stunned by his compliment and a bit more confident. He nods in response and you think you see a faint smile on his lips but he doesn't look up until Steve tells you both you will be landing in five minutes.

"We need to get to the computers they have in basement," Steve says as he catches his shield, spins and sends it flying down the hallway again.

Loki raises his hand and with a green glow, throws three Hydra soldiers into a wall, knocking them unconscious. "Y/N and I can hold them back while you and Widow retrieve the files," Loki offers as he sends two more soldiers flying towards you.

You roar in agreement as you turn your attention to the men Loki sent your way. You pin one to the ground and bite his shoulder before swiping the other across the chest with your claw.

"Sounds like a plan," Natasha says as she follows Steve to the door leading to the stairwell.

Loki creates two duplicates, each armed with daggers to block the path to the door. You turn then rear up on your hind legs and slam a soldier to the ground before he is able to take a shot at Loki.

"Nicely done, lille bjørn," he smiles before a duplicate throws a dagger at another Hydra soldier standing behind you.

Fifteen minutes later, Loki's radio crackles with static and he groans in annoyance as he tries to adjust it with one hand while sending a soldier into a wall with his other hand. "Repeat that captain," he says into the radio.

You lift your head to look towards Loki, your paws resting on the chest of the man pinned under you. More static comes through the radio and Loki looks at you with a shrug, his duplicates vanishing as the hallway seems to be empty. In an instant, you move off the soldier you have on the ground and charge towards Loki.

"What-" he tries to ask as you pass him, grabbing the soldier behind him by the neck and bringing him to the ground. You turn your head to look at Loki over your shoulder and he opens his mouth to speak but the radio crackles again.

"Loki-" Steve's voice can barely be heard over the static. "Run- detonated-"

"We can't understand you," Loki says, you can hear the concern in his voice as you walk towards him on all fours. You lift your head and sniff the air, drawing Loki's attention. "What's wrong Y/N?" he asks even though he's knows you can't answer him.

"You need to leave-" Steve's voice comes through clearer. "They detonated the self-destruction protocol! The stairwell is blocked-" the static returns. "Natasha and I-" he cuts out. "We're almost out but you need to leave!"

Your ears perk as a faint beeping grows steadily louder and you can no longer smell any approaching Hydra soldiers. You nudge Loki hard with your nose and force him to start moving, guiding him back the way you had entered the base. You can hear the count down clock but have no way of letting Loki know how little time is left. He runs next to you, relying on your sense of smell to track the multiple hallways you had followed to lead you this deep into the building.

You suddenly realize there isn't enough time for you to reach the exit, the building is going to come down around you both. You stop short in front of one of the containment labs and Loki nearly runs into you.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asks. You stand on your hind legs and push him into the room. He staggers backwards and catches his balance before he falls. "We need to-" you interrupt his words by slamming your paw into the control panel, causing the large metal door to slam shut.

A moment later the building shakes violently and you position yourself over Loki to protect him from falling debris. Alarms blare as the explosion rips through the base and you close your eyes. When you open them again, there is dust in the air and sparks fly from torn cables and wires in the ceiling. You quickly move yourself away from Loki and he looks at you in stunned silence.

Loki gets up, dusting himself off before he moves to the metal door. You slowly walk to a nearby wall and lay down on the ground to rest. He tries to open the door but between the broken control panel and the damage it sustained during the blast, it's no use. He sits next to you, his back against the wall as the radio sparks to life.

"You guys ok?!" Steve asks in a frantic voice.

"We are unharmed," Loki confirms then he looks at you. "Y/N found us somewhere to be protected from the blast but unfortunately we seem to be stuck."

You hang you head in exhaustion and listen to them talk.

"Nat called Tony and the rest of the team. They're on their way but it could be a few hours until we can get you out," Steve tells him. "Just hang tight."

Loki rolls his eyes and sets down the radio, keeping his eyes on you, he says, "Looks like we may be here a while."

You nod in agreement but barely move. You have never been in your bear form for this long before nor have you spent this long constantly fighting and running. You rest your head on your paws and close your eyes.

"Maybe you should become human again," he suggests. "Not that you are not wonderful company as a bear, but you are a bit easier to talk to when you can actually... well talk." He laughs lightly at the last part.

You lift your head to look at him but lower it again slowly. As much as you need to shift back to your human form, you are almost too tired to even think of the pain that awaits you. You know the longer you wait to shift, the worse the pain will be but you just want to sleep.

You finally give into him and push yourself up on all fours, walking away from him with your head hung low. He stays where he is, watching you closely. When you look over your shoulder he lowers his gaze to the floor but not before you see the concern in his eyes.

He is quiet for a moment and says, "I won't watch, if that is what is stopping you." You shake your head no and he sighs. "Do you not want to shift because of how torturous it seems?" You nod without looking at him, unsure how he figured it out when the rest of the team is still in the dark. "Y/N, you are clearly exhausted," he says, touching your fur gently. "You should shift back so you can rest. This form is taking a heavy toll on you."

You move as far from him as you can in the confined space. Closing your eyes, you begin to focus on your breathing, drawing in slow deep breaths as you start the excruciating process of shifting. Your bones feel as if they are breaking and splintering as they shrink to fit your smaller human form. Your muscles ache and cramp from overuse as your extraordinary strength fades away. A growl of pain escapes you as your joints crack and force your body into a more human-like position on your knees.

You curl up in a near fetal position as your body returns to its human form but your senses remain that of a bear. Covering your ears with your hands, you desperately try to block out the smallest sounds which are now amplified. The faint buzzing of the remaining overhead lights, the soft static of Loki's radio, the sparks from the frayed wires. Squeezing your eyes shut, you attempt to protect yourself from how bright the room suddenly seems even thought most of the lights are broken. The smell of smoke, sweat and blood fills your nose and you can do nothing to stop it. You cry out in pain, wishing it would end and all at once, it does.

You try to take a slow, deep breath and are surprised at how easily your lungs open to take in the air. Your heart rate slows and you push yourself into a seated position on the dust covered floor. The sounds and smells that overwhelmed you only seconds ago are gone and you immediately know why.

Loki kneels on the ground in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. A bright green glow emanates from his hands and surrounds you, easing your pain and calming your senses. "Is this helping?" he asks in a low voice and you nod, trying to hold back your tears.

"Why didn't you tell me or anyone else how excruciating this is for you?" he asks, his voice full of worry as he lowers his hands.

You answer quietly, "I can't." Loki is the first person you have allowed to see you shift in almost ten years and it makes you feel vulnerable. You try to stand, wanting to be alone but it's too soon after your shift and you lose your balance.

He catches you in his arms and helps you sit against the wall, your legs still shaking. He sets himself next to you and you lift your head as he waves his hand with another green flourish. "Eat, lille bjørn," he says gently as he hands you a protein bar and sets a bottle of water next to you.

You take a bite of the protein bar and realize it is the one you brought with you. Almost to yourself you say, "I left these on the jet."

"I took your bag," he says as your backpack appears next to him.

"Why?" you take another bite, too tired and hungry to be as annoyed as you want to be at the knowledge that he took your things.

He shifts, crossing his legs as he rubs his hands together, his eyes focused on them. "I knew you would need them. I saw you... in the gym after your final test," he admits and your heart plummets realizing what he saw.

"You saw me...?" you echo his words.

"I didn't mean to," he assures you quickly but it does little to ease your discomfort. You were embarrassed enough that he watched you shift when you knew he was here but for him to have seen you without you knowing was almost to much. He wipes away a tear as it runs down your cheek. "I'm sorry," he says but you don't respond. "I had forgotten something in the training room and when I saw you on the ground like that... I was afraid you were hurt in the fight, you seemed to be in so much pain."

"It wasn't from the fight," you say quietly but you know he already knows that.

"How can you continue to shift when it is so obviously painful for you?" he asks genuinely curious. You ignore his question and finish your bottle of water as he makes a second appear. "You should tell them how hard this is for you," he continues. "You know they would understand if you had to stop."

"No. I can't tell them," you argue quietly and he sighs. "I need to shift. It's hard to explain but... I have to prove that when I'm a bear I can protect my friends and keep the team safe. I have to show everyone that I'm not..." you pause and Loki shifts closer to you, his arm wraps around your shoulder as he gently pulls you towards him. "I need to prove I'm not a monster," you finish, looking down as you bring your knees to your chest.

"Who in this realm could possibly think someone as kind and protective as you could be anything close to a monster?" he asks, his voice laced with true shock. "And that is coming from someone who has quite a lot of experience with the term," he adds trying to ease the tension you feel.

You look up at him and he wipes away another tear. You close your eyes and rest your head against his chest for a moment while you gather your thoughts. He sits quietly, letting you take as much time as you need, his fingers slowly move up and down your arm.

Keeping your eyes closed, you lean into Loki's comforting touch and decide to tell him something you've only ever told one person almost 20 years ago. "The first time I shifted... I was ten," you tell him and he continues to hold you close as you open your eyes.

"My class went on a field trip to the zoo. I remember being so excited that morning," you tell him with a faint smile that fades as you continue. "We spent all day there... my mom even chaperoned," he shifts a bit so he can look at you curiously. "Sometimes parents would come to help the teacher keep track of all the students," you explain and he nods without a word.

"We got to the grizzly bear exhibit and..." you shake your head as the memories flood back. "I don't know how it happened, I didn't mean to but I somehow shifted. I remember pain, excruciating pain and then everyone was screaming. I tried to talk, to tell them it was just me but all I could do was growl. The other students in my class were terrified of me. Everyone was running from me, the students, the teacher, the other parents."

"What about your mother?" he asks.

"My mom..." you say slowly and Loki senses your hesitation. He waits patiently for you to continue, he places a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you look up at him, surprised by the gesture. He gives you a small smile but you can tell he seems worried about his question.

"My mom was so scared," you confirm his fears. "I tried to talk to her, I tried to ask her what was happening because I was scared too but it only came out as roars and growls. She kept moving away from me. I just wanted a hug..." you shake your head and begin to cry more freely. "I scratched her face with my claw when I reached for her then one of the zookeepers came running to... to protect her from me."

"Your mother left you there?" you can hear the anger in his voice.

Loki easily pulls you onto his lap and you turn your face so you can bury yourself against his chest. He rubs your back gently and you sit up after a moment, wiping your eyes. You look up at him and continue, needing to finish. "He shot me with a dart or something, I guess," you shrug. "I woke up a few hours later. It was dark outside and I was human again but I was trapped alone in a small cage. I screamed for I don't know how long but no one came."

You nod, "The next morning someone from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters came to pick me up. I never saw my parents again after that. I swear never meant to hurt my mom or scare anyone... I was just so afraid and no one could understand me, no one wanted to help."

He hugs you close and you cling to him, "I'm so sorry my lille bjørn." He touches your cheek gently and lifts your head so you are looking at him. "I understand more than most your desire to not be seen as a monster but I want you to know I never saw you in that light. No one on the team could possibly think you are anything other than amazing and if they do, I will personally set them straight about the matter," he says and you feel a smile creep across your lips. He strokes your cheek and says, "I know it will be pointless to continue to plead with you to stop shifting..."

You nod in agreement and quickly sit up, "I can manage the pain. It only hurts for a little while I promise." He looks concerned still and you add, "Please don't tell the team."

"I know this is something you think you need to do," you nod again. "And I will not tell them under one condition," he says calmly. His fingers lift your chin so you are looking into his eyes. "You have to promise you will let me help you," he says.

"Like you did before?" you ask, referring to when he held back your pain after shifting.

You nods, "I can dull your pain and dampen your senses as you shift. You are too sweet and caring to experience something so horrific for simply trying to help others."

"My little bear," he says as his radio crackles and Steve announces the team will have you both out in half an hour.

You blush at his words but he doesn't let you hide your face as he asks, "Do we have a deal?"

"Its a deal," you laugh quietly.

He smiles and pulls you against his chest again, kissing your forehead lightly. You giggle and look up at him suddenly wishing he would kiss your lips. As if he heard your thoughts, his hand finds your cheek again and he gently brings his lips to yours. "My lille bjørn," he calls you as you rest with your arms around him.

"What does that mean?" you finally ask.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @im-briana-stan @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant

323 notes · View notes

fckeddiemunson · 3 months

Text

Blurred Lines Pt. 2

Part One Here:

Summary: What was a one time thing is turning into a full fledged affair

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI. some choking, p in v, creampie, more cheating, handjob, spitting

Notes: AHH ok part 2 is here! Please enjoy, I may make a part 3 i have some ideas.....

2750 words

Getting away with cheating is not a humbling feeling. It boosts your ego without even realising it. And then suddenly you’re taking risks you never would have before. You think you’re untouchable. Especially in this case when there’s two parties involved who have so much to lose. It doesn’t get any better with time either, the longer you aren’t caught for the less careful you become about hiding fleeting glances, small, overlooked touches. Then there’s after work. Going back to your respective homes, playing a husband and father or playing a dutiful fiancé. You think it won’t catch up to you, but it always will.

The immediate day after you were with Rusty, you called in sick – something you had never done. You were sick to your stomach that day, you couldn’t even be at home. Dom was at home sleeping in the same bed you let Rusty fuck you in, worse in the same sheets. Your absence was met with a slew of texts from Rusty, get better soon, hope you’re in tomorrow, where’s the link to my google calendar?, please sweetheart I’m useless without you. It was honestly a bit overwhelming. You spent most of that day in your car, driving past the office about ten times like a maniac. Once evening hit and you knew Dom would have left for work you went home. You collapsed once inside, relief rushing through you at being alone. You breathed deeply and smelt the dinner Dom had cooked and left warming in the oven for you. despite the rough patch you were having, he still made time for you like this, it made you sick thinking about it. You frowned, a twinge of guilt coursed through you as picked at the food, not very hungry. Your phone vibrated, filling the silent void you had cocooned yourself in. you felt even worse checking the message, from Dom sending his love and hoping you enjoyed dinner. Sending back a message with love hearts you shut your phone and cringed. But as you sat there longer, chewing slowly on the potatoes your loving fiancé had cooked. You made a decision. A decision to not let this effect you. Evidently you had gotten away with it. Everything would be fine so long as it remained a one-time thing.

The next morning you walked into the office with your head held high. Rusty had beat you into the office, not many people had filed in this early. You marched into his office locked the door and leaned against the door with your arms crossed.

“The other night was a one-time thing.” Your stern voice almost echoed in the room.

“Jesus. Keep your voice down!” Rusty looked suspiciously out the little window, not a soul was around besides the two of you. Ignoring him a little you continued; “I don’t regret it, god, I don’t regret it, but we have lives we must maintain.”

“I agree. We work so well together is all. We got carried away is what happened. For the record, I don’t regret it either, I should but I don’t. Shall we begin the day? Coffee?” Rusty had already made you a cup, it sat next to his on the desk. And just like that. It was swept under the rug, nothing more needed to be said.

A week passed uneventfully; more prep work was done for the woman whose body was found in the dumpster. The trial really was only another few weeks away and at this point it seemed cut and dry, open and closed. All thanks to your hard (very hard) work with Rusty that night. It wasn’t until you felt yourself staring at Rusty again when you should’ve been working that you felt concerned again. You felt an invisible tug towards him, a shudder in your lower stomach when you studied his lips for too long. You were reminded how good they felt on you, how good they felt on your neck – no. You shook your head, trying to snap out of your daydream, or more memory of Rusty.

The next week was full of late nights in the office with Rusty, the case now was too sensitive and confidential to work on anywhere else. Most of your team was in the office until about 8pm. It was the Friday before the trial was set to start, the following Monday. It was now approaching 8:30pm, everyone had already vacated, under the impression that we wouldn’t discover anything new this close to trial. But Rusty was insistent, he was beyond thorough and would not stop until he was satisfied there was nothing else to find. You had organised food for the two of you and stood in the break room, dishing up a plate of chicken and rice. Rusty was standing over his desk when you took it in, his hand catching yours as you placed his food.

“You know I really appreciate you. You’re the best assistant anyone could ask for.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, smiling.

“I’m much more than an assistant you know” You whispered, sliding your hand away.

“You’re so much more.” Rusty said quietly, you looked back at him. Without thinking, you tilted your head up and kissed him, eyes closing briefly. He kissed back, leaning into you. But it was all over too quickly, you pulled away, scurrying back to the break room to grab your food. You stood there with your hands on your hips, staring at the ground in disbelief. Another decision was made in that moment. The true point of no return.

“Fuck!” Rusty yelled after a few more hours of meticulous reading and frustrated re-reading of the case files.

“There’s just nothing else. I can’t find anything to fortify our case further.” Rusty slumped in his office chair, rubbing his temples and frowning.

“Maybe that’s because its already foolproof.” You offered, throwing your stack of papers back on the desk.

“No, it has to be better.” Rusty almost snapped, frustration overcoming him. You rolled your eyes, not appreciating the tone.

“Come on. Grab your things.” In a moment you were up, handbag and laptop in hand.

“What, why?” Rusty slowly got up, grabbing his things and attempting to tidy up before leaving for the weekend.

“We’re going to clear our heads.” You headed for the elevator; Rusty followed behind chuckling after you. Rusty’s arm brushed against yours the entire lift, he didn’t seem to want to move, and you were trying to stop yourself from moving closer to him. You looked at him again, his tie still tight from this morning. You placed your bag on the ground and reached up to his tie, dodging his gaze.

“Its now after work, got to loosen up a bit.” You loosened his tie, hands lingering on his chest, his warmth radiated up through your fingertips. In an instant, he backed you into the lift wall and kissed you deeply. You gasped as his hands pulled at the bottom of your shirt from your skirt, rucking it up and sliding his hands under. You felt his fingertips working upwards, running across your ribcage, feeling his way. He pulled his hands out and fiddled with the buttons up at your chest. The lift pinged as he undid two, exposing your cleavage to him, he looked smug as you walked to your car.

You drove the two of you to a cliff top lookout, it overlooked the whole city. At this time of night, you expected local teenagers with beer getting drunk, but it was thankfully deserted by the time you got up there. Rusty had asked many questions along the way, not a man who liked to be surprised. You had answered all of them, with Rusty kissing your hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, feeling a lifetime away from the lookout. You sat in silence for a moment, both looking ahead at the view. It was you who broke the silence, sighing deeply and looking at Rusty.

“Fuck it.” You whispered, more to yourself and hiked up your skirt, climbing over the centre console, and into Rusty’s lap. He was amused, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.

“I don’t want it to be a one-time thing, Rusty. I want you. I have craved you ever since that night. I can’t stop thinking about you.” You knew you sounded obsessive and a bit crazy. You knew it was a lot to be asking of him, of anyone but that longing desire you had burned for him. You tried to be a head strong person, but you had somehow almost girl-bossed your way into an affair.

“I don’t like keeping secrets from my wife.” Rusty was already playing with the buttons on your shirt, teasing you.

“So, I’m sure you told her about the other night then?” You stared him down, lifting his chin and forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“Just shut up.” Rusty’s voice was harsh as he snaked his hands around the back of your head, pulling you down for a kiss. It was rough, all teeth nipping at each other’s lips. You let him kiss you, your hands snaking down to play with the buckle on his pants. Rusty let out a deep sigh as your hand brushed against him. He was rigid as the back of your hand stroked him, pulling his cock out of his pants. You eagerly spat, it landed on his cock, Rusty hissed at the contact. He bucked his hips when you touched him, a soft whine escaping his lips as you jerked him up and down with lazy strokes. You leant forward, lips connecting to his exposed neck, you felt a low warming in your stomach as you licked a stripe up his neck, stopping at his jawline and kissing him along it finally reaching his mouth. You licked his lower lip, begging for entrance, whining when he waved a hand through your hair pulling back, his grip firm. You locked eyes as your hand continued to stroke him up and down, now painfully hard, the tip blushing pink as you ran your thumb over the slit. Rusty grunted your name, his head falling back against the seat. Taking the opportunity, you kissed him, pulling him in and biting his lower lip, running your tongue against his now swollen lip.

Rusty took the chance and pushed you back, landing against the dashboard, your legs spread for him, pussy covered only by sheer stockings. You started pulling them down awkwardly, attempting to shimmy them off you when Rusty put his hand on yours to stop. His wicked smirk returned, hands grabbing on the material at the apex of your thighs, gripping tight and ripping a hole in them. A surprised gasp left your mouth as you stared at him through half closed lids, lustfully enjoying the way Rusty kneaded at your exposed thighs. His hand grabbed your thigh dangerously high, his thumb swiping over your underwear, brushing your clit. His thumb hooked under the band, feeling the warmth of your cunt as he inched towards your dripping entrance. A mix between a moan and a dark chuckle left his mouth when he felt how wet you were for him. How all it took was a hand-job to get you aching for him. He looked at you then, and you felt powerful, eyes following your hand down and gripping his dick as you leant forward and grinded your hips down onto him, his tip flicking against your clit.

“Please.” He whispered, hips meeting your grinding, breathless moans leaving him. You slipped forward, tilted your hips and sunk down slowly onto his length. Rusty was big, there was no way to put it lightly and you hissed at the burn sinking further onto him. He knew it too, he chuckled once you took him all the way, pausing to breathe deeply. You moaned as he bucked up impatiently, pulling you towards him and gripping your hips tightly urging you to move on him. Settling yourself, you placed your hands on the car seat for leverage and began moving your hips up and down. You felt his cock sliding in and out of you and you relished the feeling, short panting moans as your pace quickened. Rusty’s fingers kneaded and bruised your hips as you rode him, helping you move as he bucked in shallow thrusts from below. He felt so deep inside you, his cock nudging against the spongey spot making you mew for him. You ground yourself down on him, your clit rubbing back and forth over his neat patch of hair, and you released a moan, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined as he tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you forward to kiss you. His thrusts deepened and quickened as you rested yourself on his shoulder, panting and moaning as his cock pumped in and out of you now almost harshly. He pushed you back against the dashboard, hand travelling up to your throat and holding you in place as he thrusted upwards into you, still seated in the car. His fingers wrapped around your throat, and he squeezed, testing the waters. Rusty groaned hotly, chuckling darkly as he felt your cunt clench when he squeezed. He did it again and you moaned, it came out high pitched and strained as Rusty kept his hand on your throat.

“Oh, you are a little slut for me, aren’t you?” Rusty’s voice had changed, he sounded rugged as he egged you on.

“My own personal stress relief. Isn’t that what you wanted, to ‘clear my head’?” Rusty felt his ego inflate ten-fold when he looked at you, mimicking your words from earlier. You met his eyes, cock drunk and watering as you held onto his hand, choking you. He tore his hand away from your throat, grabbed your leg and hitched it up higher, resting on his shoulder as he inched forward, fucking you deeper. You couldn’t answer him, you were too fucked out and teetering on the verge of an orgasm, eyes fluttering shut.

Rusty’s hand made its way to your cunt again, his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You jerked against his touch, suddenly becoming too much as your orgasm built in your stomach.

“Rusty, its too much” you attempted to move his hand, but he gripped your wrist and held it away, his thumb moving quicker against you.

“You can take it sweetheart.” His thrusts quickened, his pace becoming erratic and sharp.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, immediately whining as you spasmed. A hot and cold feeling washed over you as Rusty kept on fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt pulsed, over stimulated and Rusty wasn’t stopping, he was chasing his own high. He grunted and pulled you closer to him, feeling him everywhere. He was too deep, he smelt too good, his arms wrapped around you possessively as he thrusted the last few times. He nestled against you, burying his head in your neck and breathing in deeply as he grabbed you tighter against him, moaning into your hair, his warm cum spilling into you. You eventually relaxed into his tight grip, too tired to move. Rusty felt too good in your arms to move as well, his hand stroked your hair, you could feel his cum dribbling out of you. Rusty made no attempt to move, just stayed locking you in his arms. The rush was subsiding, and you both enjoyed each other’s silent company. You both felt it thought. The pull towards one another. You could hear his mind turning over like cogs, both coming to another decision. It was another night spent with the wrong person. Another night spent with each other, but now he was your arms, feeling far too intimate to be just sex.

You were the first to break the silence, “Rusty, I don’t want to go home, yet.” Your hand snaked in behind his neck, tilting it up so you could look at him.

“I don’t want too either.” His voice was soft, almost as though he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

You don’t know how long you stayed up there, embraced in each other’s arms, but you knew something had changed. There was no going back after this.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal fic #rusty sabich smut #rusty sabich x reader #rusty sabich #presumed innocent #presumed innocent smut

143 notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 2 months

Text

Nest Swap 9

masterpost

Having a mission changed everything.

Tim took full advantage of his new knowledge of the holy manuals. The first rule that he took to heart was that he was meant to be armed. Of course! It made sense.

Unfortunately, he was also not meant to take any weapon onto the field that he hadn’t trained with. Tim thought hard for a while whether or not a suburban house counted as ‘in the field’, but it seemed like he should pay lip service to Batman’s rule. So he got some sharp things that seemed interesting and spent some time throwing them at a target. They kind of looked like Batarangs, but… different.

“I don’t think bats change shape in the next ten years or so,” Tim muttered. He gave another half hearted throw. The thing dinged off the wall below his target. “So this isn’t meant to be a bat shape. Did Batman rebrand to the Birdman and no one fixed his wiki page yet? Is this a parallel universe and not my actual future?”

It occurred to him that it might be a bird because of Robin. But come on, Robins didn’t use sharp things. Robin was a child. It was irresponsible for children to use blades.

Tim sent another thingy into the wall. It hit with the pointy end first this time and sank an inch into the wall to the right of the target. He held his breath as it wiggled for a moment. Then it went still without falling.

“Yes!” He punched the air. Thank gosh! He was getting bored with that. It was good to be done with training. It was kind of dull.

Steps one and two were finished. He had a weapon and he had trained with it. Tim went back to his list. The next technical skill set was lock picking. That was super easy and fun! Tim enjoyed the clear diagrams and explanations. There wasn’t anything to practice with, but he thought that he had the concept down handily. He grabbed a set of lockpicks for his khaki pockets.

He needed to do a little more to understand the patterns of the target, as well as their background. Tim considered asking Jason for any information, but he probably didn’t have any. Maybe he wasn’t very good at googling. So he just did it. The Sausage Guy was more commonly known as Benedict Orange, a name that Tim really liked and mentally stored away to use as an alias when he was a superhero.

Anyway. Tim figured out how old the guy was, where he’d gone to school, and a bunch of other stuff like the record of his marriage ten years ago.

“Huh,” Tim said, brows furrowed. “I didn’t find a divorce record. But he’s single now?” Mr. Orange had accounts on a lot of dating sites. He was using his engagement photo for the profile photo, with his wife cut out.

That was weird. He tried to find the wife, but there wasn’t anything more recent than 8 years ago, when she’d announced that she was quitting her job on social media.

…Tim had kind of a bad feeling about that.

He put a pin in it for now, but he had a small theory at the back of his mind that started with ‘I think this guy killed his wife.’

Maybe that was how the human sausage thing started. Maybe he’d killed her on impulse and then needed a way to get rid of the body. And then maybe he’d gotten a taste for it.

Tim shuddered. Okay, okay, he was for real done thinking about this! Big yucky.

Benny Orange was an office worker with a title that Tim didn’t really understand. It seemed vague to the point of uselessness, but then again, that was office work. The relevant thing was that he got home around 6 pm, and he left at 8 am.

It was 10 in the morning. Tim could get over there and toss Benny’s home before the end of the workweek if he hurried. The manual said that you should never spend more than an hour investigating an unsecured location. It also said that you should file a report or directly inform someone of where you’d be.

That part made Tim pause for a moment before he remembered that he’d told Jason. Jason would probably check on him when he woke up, or whatever.

Tim found an equipment belt that he could wrap around his waist twice to buckle on. He put his sharp things in it. Then he untucked his shirt, because he had tucked it in out of habit and that would make it harder to access his weapons. He frowned as he did it. It just felt wrong.

He put on his shoes and got out the door. He didn’t have a lot of time to waste if he wanted to be able to take his time, so Tim hailed a taxi to cross most of the distance this time. He was grateful that Mrs. Henderson was gone and there was no chance of seeing her. Last time had been a little bit of a disaster. Needing civilian help to get into the building was not a winning move.

He had bat-approved lockpicks this time. He went to the front door and did his best.

It turned out that maybe he should have practiced? Tim started to sweat out in the open. It felt like someone was staring at his back. He looked at the houses around. No one was at their windows or walking outside. He started jumping whenever the tall herbs in Mr. Orange's garden swayed in the breeze. He had a lot of plants.

His hands were shaking. The sweat made his shirt stick to his back. He was going to get caught and in so much trouble.

When the door finally opened, Tim offered up a thanks to Bast, because he assumed the cat goddess was more likely to be pro-breaking and entering than other gods. That logic was just based off of what he knew about Catwoman, honestly.

The first glimpse into Benedict Orange's home was disappointingly normal. He had vinyl flooring (easy to clean!), leather furniture, and a big flat TV high up on the wall. He didn’t have enough knickknacks and there was no art. There was a wood and glass case that was full of identical, unlabeled bottles with something red in it. Hot sauce? Was he a hot sauce guy?

Tim mentally reclassified Mr. Orange further down the list of ‘people I could talk to at a cocktail party.’

The place had the same layout as Mrs. Henderson’s place, just in reverse. Tim beelined to the kitchen because.. Well.

He just did.

The counter space where Mrs. Henderson had a hot water kettle, a big stand mixer, and a toaster was mostly clear here. Mr. Orange only had one piece of cooking machinery. Tim didn’t know it. He squinted at it. It was a big shiny stainless steel thing. It had a metal tray, a wheel, and like… a nozzle. When he climbed on a chair to look down, he could see there was a little tunnel tube thing where you could put stuff inside the body of the machine.

Weird. Moving on!

He checked inside the fridge. He stared for a moment of aghast silence. There was a stack of takeout containers, a bunch of seasonings in the door, and a stack of tupperware with something red in them.

Cautiously, Tim dug one out and opened it.

“That’s raw meat,” he said, voice high. He put the box back in and then hesitated. Maybe he should be like, taking it? Or taking a sample? To see what animal it came from?

“I’ll think about it.” Tim shut the fridge a little harder than he needed to and beat feet out of the kitchen. He started checking the other rooms. He found the master bedroom. His nose wrinkled. “I don’t think he’s restyled this since Brenda died,” Tim complained. He looked at the curtains with extreme judgment. They were so outdated it wasn’t even funny, but they also weren’t retro yet!

Oh. Wait. Belatedly, Tim remembered that it was ten years into his future. So, maybe they were retro now. Anyways, Brenda had liked the trend for chickens and roosters. There were chickens and roosters everywhere in the decor, including a cute print of what was obviously intended to be a husband and wife pair snuggling on a sofa.

His heart hurt a little. He looked at it a little too long.

Tim took a deep breath. Then he went back to looking for evidence. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, so clearly Mr. Orange had a personal office elsewhere. There were two more rooms in the apartment.

Tim opened the next door. The room was mostly a guest bedroom, with the notable exception of a huge chest freezer and a weird long wooden bar across the room.

Tim shut the door.

The last room was the office. There was a desk, a file cabinet, and a lockbox full of women’s drivers licenses.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said under his breath. “He’s a serial killer.” He took photos and sent them to Jason immediately with the subject line “Yeah he’s a killer!!!”

Then he got down to sorting through the papers to see if there was anything else. Jason was a Robin, Tim supposed, so he’d need the evidence to show the police. It would be helpful if he just went and sorted it out now. He found warranties for the TV, the new freezer, and he presumed that ‘Meat Grinder’ meant the thing in the kitchen.

“I appreciate that he’s so organized, actually,” Tim muttered. He was hunched over digging through the bottom drawer now.

A key went into a door.

Tim froze stock still. He slowly, silently shut the drawer. He stared at the closed door to the living room. On the other side of it, Mr. Orange unlocked and opened the front door. Tim slowly looked up, saw 12:14 on the clock, and vaguely registered that sometimes people come home on their lunch breaks.

The front door shut. There was a quiet metal sound that Tim thought was probably the chain lock. The chain lock that was too high for him to move without a chair to stand on.

Okay. Uh. He looked around for a place to hide. The best option was under the desk. Tim crawled through the legs of the chair, heart beating furiously.

He weighed his options. Wait it out and hope Mr. Orange didn’t come in?

…Seemed risky. But there was no way he was going to run out past the guy to the front door. At least, the odds that he’d get grabbed were just not good, not when he didn’t know where Mr. Orange was.

Alright. Tim knew reality. He might not be able to get out of this on his own. At the very least, he should let Jason know what was going on so that they could add his murder to the list of charges. And maybe Jason was close by to help? Wayne Manor was awfully far away, so probably not. But it didn’t hurt to try.

He got his phone back out and was silently very glad that he had it. Jason had responded to his message. Tim didn’t take the time to read it, instead typing up a blank email with the subject line “um might need help asap :( he here”. He sent it. Then he huddled down to wait.

Noises came from the kitchen- the suction as the fridge opened. The beep of the microwave. A man’s voice saying, “What the fuck? Did I leave this here?”

His blood turned ice cold.

‘What did I do?’ Tim desperately tried to remember what he’d touched in the kitchen. Had he really moved something around? He didn’t remember anything! His heart rate went up like crazy.

The door opened. Tim flinched. His whole body started shaking uncontrollably.

Oh. No. It wasn’t this door yet. It was the door to the next room, the spare bedroom. He heard the weird squelch of the chest freezer opening. Then the closet door squeaked open. Something heavy moved around.

“Well, it wasn’t you,” said Mr. Orange. There was a mean satisfaction in his tone. The heavy thing moved again.

Tim’s brain went a bit blank.

Who was he talking to? Was there someone in the apartment? Hidden behind something heavy?

He opened up another email. Jason hadn’t responded, so there was no way to know if he’d seen. Tim hastily typed up, “I think there’s a living hostage in the house” and sent it as the door to the office opened.

He hugged his arms around his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. Oh gosh. Oh heck. Oh no, oh no. He bit his lower lip and broke skin.

‘No. I can’t be a baby about this.’

It was really hard with how stiff his fingers felt. But Tim put the phone in his pocket and wrestled the sharp bird weapon out. He held it clumsily. And he watched Mr. Orange’s feet move around the room. They walked around the room. He saw the curtains move as Mr. Orange pulled them to check no one was hiding there. Then he knew that Mr. Orange was coming to his hiding spot.

Tim swallowed. He waited until Mr. Orange’s feet were in sight. He stabbed his sharp thing down through the top of Mr. Orange’s sock.

Mr. Orange bellowed and fell back against his filing cabinet.

Tim scrambled out and ran.

He went towards the front door on automatic and nearly got there before he looked up and saw that yes, the chain lock was on. He couldn’t reach it.

“You little shit!” Mr. Orange bellowed. He lunged at Tim. Tim barely dodged. He jabbed at him again without looking and barreled towards the door to Mrs. Henderson’s apartment. It only had a doorknob lock. He unlatched it, praying that she had not changed her ideas about the open door policy. The door handle turned.

He threw himself into the room and slammed the door shut. He clicked the little button lock.

Mr. Orange hit the door, hard. It shook. He wasn’t saying anything anymore. There was something about that which struck Tim as absolutely terrifying. Didn’t people bellow and yell when they were mad?

He looked towards Mrs. Henderson’s door. The door shook again as Mr. Orange hit it.

Wood splintered.

If he went out Mrs. Henderson’s front door he could sprint for it. What were the odds he could outrun a grown man? If he did, wouldn’t Mr. Orange just get in his car? Potential witnesses had made Mr. Orange back off before, but he was more invested now in silencing Tim. And there was no one around. Tim had checked.

The door splintered again. He could see Mr. Orange’s shoulder. Then a socked foot.

‘I don’t think I stabbed his foot well enough,’ some distant part of Tim’s brain catalogued. ‘He’s still moving on it. If I live past this, I’m going to commit to the next stabbing with more enthusiasm.’

He bolted for the stand where Mrs. Henderson kept her mace. He was just out of sight from Mr. Orange’s hole in the door. His heart thudded so loud. His shaking had stopped. The mace didn’t feel heavy.

‘If I was taller, i’d aim for the face. I can’t pull that off. I’ll aim for center mass. He may block with an arm, but theoretically his arm will be hurt enough that I’ll be able to pull back and make another swing.’

There was a catastrophic smash from inside Mr. Orange’s apartment.

Then a “What the fuck-” that got cut off a little early. Mr. Orange sounded mad and confused.

A thud. Two smaller thuds. A clicking. Tim wanted so badly to know what was going on.

A hand reached through the hole in the door and unlatched the lock.

Tim swallowed. He readied a swing.

The door opened.

Tim took a step forward and swung Mrs. Henderson’s antique mace with maximum strength directly into the armored center mass of a guy who was NOT Mr. Orange.

“Oh my gosh,” Tim said, horrified, at the instant he connected. The guy was looking forward. He looked down too late, just as the mace hit.

There was sort of a bounce. The mace bounced back off the tummy armor without digging in or drawing blood. Half of Tim was relieved, and half was terrified that his plan had failed.

The guy doubled over and made a sound that was a lot like GURK. He clutched at his torso with one arm and pointed a gun at Tim with the other.

Tim put his hands up.

The guy looked at Tim. Presumably. It was hard to tell through his ugly red motorcycle helmet.

“I really should have known.”

His mechanical voice was scary.

Bad guy!

Tim took his chances and another swing before the guy could shoot him. He expected to hear a shot as he smashed his mace again. The guy yelped and jerked backwards to avoid getting hit. Then there was a thud.

Tim peered through the door cautiously. The guy had tripped over Mr. Orange. Mr. Orange was laying on the floor facedown, arms zip tied behind his back.

“Oh, sorry,” Tim apologized. He took a couple steps over to put the mace back away. He gave Mr. Orange a wide berth.

“I never would have guessed that the Red Hood used kids like this,” Mr. Orange said meanly. He narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Small, even for bait.”

The Red Hood guy pointed his gun at Mr. Orange’s head. Tim shrieked.

The Red guy stopped. He seemed to look at Tim again. He had some really bad words. “Alright.” He got back up to his feet and put the gun away.

Right. He’d probably just been joking or something. Tim belatedly registered the control it must have taken to not accidentally shoot while being attacked and falling over.

Oh. Wait. It was a huge coincidence that a hero came right now, unless-

‘Is this Jason?’ Tim felt his eyebrows go all the way up. He wanted to ask a million questions. His mouth was firmly glued shut, though. Partly it was infosec. But it was also embarrassment.

#red nest swap

97 notes · View notes

teriri-sayes · 5 months

Text

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 288

Brief summary: CH and Clopeh had a talk instead of a duel. Cale arrived at the emperor's palace.

==========

This chapter was so good! 🥰🥰🥰 I expected that the two would fight, but they only conversed. Nevertheless, their conversation revealed a lot about what kind of person Clopeh was.

CH believed that Clopeh was unsuited to be a guardian knight. Clopeh followed the path of a shadow, but a guardian knight must walk at the forefront. For CH, Lock would be a better guardian knight than Clopeh. But Clopeh's rebuttal left him speechless.

-What if a very strong enemy appears in front of Cale? Will you lay down your life to save Cale? But if you save Cale, the others will die. Raon and the kittens. Mary, Rosalyn, Tasha, and Lock. But if you don't save Cale, the others can be saved. What will you do?

My goodness, Clopeh asks questions that hit hard, especially for CH. Both knew that whatever the choice, Cale would be hurt. CH was hesitant, but Clopeh was not.

-I don't care if you all die, I don't care if I die, I don't care if my family dies. Of course, Cale-nim would be sad if all of his companions were killed. That's the kind of person he is. That is why he has the qualities of a great hero. So I will not turn my sword against Cale-nim's allies. But you and Cale-nim. Me and Cale-nim. If I could only save one of you, it would definitely be Cale-nim.

Clopeh-nim!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰 He's really going all-in on Cale even if he loses everything else.

"Choi Han. Do you think you are a knight?" A knight. For some reason, Choi Han couldn't open his mouth easily. No answer came easily to him. Clopeh's eyes were like a green swamp. A swamp so deep that once you were dragged in, you couldn't get out. And they were filled with an intense longing. It was a desperate longing for something. Clopeh said in a nonchalant tone. "I think I am a knight." Even if he became a shadow and acted like an assassin. He never forgot that he had started out as a knight. He lived as a knight. "And do you know what a knight means?" Knighthood meant different things to different people. And for Clopeh. "For me, it's a conviction." For him, chivalry is conviction. "A knight must never compromise his conviction." Therefore, a knight who compromises his conviction was useless, and should not compromise his conviction. "And my conviction is-" Choi Han seemed to know what Clopeh's conviction might be. Clopeh spoke calmly. My conviction is, "Cale-nim." Choi Han felt like he was losing strength. He couldn't help but stare into those deep green eyes. The knight named Clopeh spoke. "His path is my conviction." Cale's path is my conviction, my reason for being a knight. Clopeh could say that without the slightest hesitation. That is why he would die for Cale, and he would do anything to save him.

KYAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! Clopeh-nim, you're as awesome and crazy as always! ❤️❤️❤️ 🤣🤣🤣 Google Translate used the word "belief", but I stuck with DeepL's translation of "conviction" because it was better. After all, a conviction is a strong belief, and what Clopeh expressed was his strong belief for Cale.

And thus, CH could not help but acknowledge that Clopeh deserved to be Cale's guardian knight. Clopeh passed CH's test. But CH warned Clopeh that if he lost his conviction, he would kill Clopeh. And Clopeh was fine with that. It was funny that the two called each other as a "crazy bastard" though. 😂

Ending Remarks As a Clopeh fan, I love this chapter so much~! I would like to see a duel, but delving into Clopeh's thoughts and conviction was also good. Next chapter would be Cale meeting with the emperor again. Expect lots of scamming and DA showing off his power.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

153 notes · View notes

authenticaussie · 5 months

Text

Alright so I just finished Batman:TAS recently and started watching Superman:TAS and it delights me that the first episode is literally just: superman??? Who dat. This is aliens :)) (even if Brainiac does say "human error, Jor-el"). So obviously I do now have aus. Obviously <3 shout-out to @midnightluck for the Justice League, @cer-rata for Terry and @suzukiblu for Jordan + putting up with the initial ramble

So anyway Brianiac's satellite upload gets fucked up by Jor-el either in petty revenge or as an accident, and a part of Brainiac ends up on Clark's ship. The vague explanation I have is that Brainiac is the AI for everything and in TAS, Jor-el also does not realise he is "evil" and thus still uses his help as a navigator for Clark's ship while he is initially building it. The ship, however, is offline to prevent the Kryptoninan council from finding out about it, and thus, that section of Brainiac does not get taken back into the satellite upload.

As it is BARELY the 90's when the Kents find Clark after the crash, Brainiac is summarily useless thanks to the current lack of wifi, but manages to mostly teach himself English and Kal kryptonian, and decides that. >:( since they're BOTH there, they can BOTH be vestibules of kryptonian knowledge. And also Kal can get him more earth knowledge. The vibes entirely are: "Weird aspects of kryptonian culture taught by an unbodied dickhead historian" and while the argument is "but brainiac is evil!" Main brainiac is. But this is a subsection of Brainiac :) he learnt more stuff + Clark loves him soooo much.

Unfortunately. That is His baby now. He is not impressed with his baby. His baby bought him a growing chick the other day, with big sad eyes, and said the kryptonian word for fluffy!!! in such a mournful tone that Brainiac resigned himself to teaching kal about how growing up worked and that the chicken needed feathers to fly. This explanation ends with Clark collecting feathers and trying to jump off the barn roof, and he thus resolves to extend further co-parenting issues to the Kents. For his own personal convenience, of course.

It does of course ALSO mean that Brainiac, who has a loose definition of the words "surveillance state" absolutely gets in at the ground floor when the internet first starts up. Clark's influence relegates him to the background, but he is good at hiding ! So they don't realise they have an AI in the wifi! But ohhhh boy does brainiac scare a few people at first. Potentially tries to do his "i am helpful" schtick before realising he is not useful in this because he's basically just. Seems completely like a troll? He's some random person who's invaded the internet!!

However he is also the inspiration for google 😂 and calls it his younger, stupider sibling. It is also funny to me to think about earth compsci engineers having NO idea why sometimes the internet acts SO DAMN WEIRD <- brainiac's fault.

As a result though, when Clark starts up as Superman, Brainiac does NOT let the Kr project off the ground. Files are misdirected and blackmail is gathered. Until one day Kal says something sad about how he'll never be able to have a great romance, because he's terrified of telling anyone the alien thing, and that he's always thought about kids but he's kinda terrified because what if he hurts someone- and Brainiac is like ah yes wait. I shall fix this for my Only Kryptonian.

TWO kids for the price of one?!? he finds, after he goes searching, and then further prodding finds THIRTEEN children, extraordinary. Not all of them are viable because the earth scientists truly are incapable but Brainiac can fix the issues with their technology to ensure Kal has the children he wants.

"How many children did you think of, kal-el?" he asks, and Clark laughs at how kindly his friend/uncle/grandfather figure treats his silly selfishness.

"Oh, man, sometimes I think: as many as I can carry! But then- I don't want Superman to get in the way of being a good dad. Too many and I won't be there for them like I should, you know? I worry about that, I guess."

"As many as you can carry is a significant amount," Brainiac says dubiously, already imagining teaching these numerous children kryptonian culture and Also that they are Not chickens. "I do not think that can be fulfilled effectively."

Five minutes later Clark has five children and has realised his matchbox apartment and budding romance with Lois Lane are both complicated things he will now have to resolve. He's basically commuting daily to the Daily Planet from Smallville, thank god for superspeed and his endlessly patient parents, jfc

(Children I was thinking of: the destablised kon!clone from SB94/The Ravers, Kon, Match, Bizarro, and Mia. Alternatively they went old-school with Biz so Brainiac didn't get a chance to help him/he's older than the other kids when Clark finally mentions wanting kids, to Brainiac, and thus Biz ends up like. The kids' uncle. There ARE technically twelve clones before Kon. I could've given you thirteen-fifteen kids, Clark.)

Anyway this does mean that either a) when Lois finds out Kal is superman this is not his biggest secret, b) Kon rocks up as Superboy and Lois, once she finds out Clark is Superman, immediately goes: WAIT BUT SUPERBOY'S YOUR KID. ARE YOU MARRIED??? or c) everyone at the Daily Planet thinks Clark just. Got really unlucky with different people he slept with and someone in the world's wildest stroke of luck they all ended up pregnant. Because Clark Does Not mention a partner when it is eventually revealed he has kids.

He probably does keep them a secret for a while though. A) He doesn't want them to have to try and be "normal" since they're only just out of the pod and B) I feel like, weirdly, Clark is somehow that co-worker that people like. barely know anything about. You like them and they're so helpful! and good-natured! and then you get him in the office secret santa and realise you're not even 100% what his favourite colour is or if he has a pet.

Anyway, Lois: he is NOT expecting Lois to get pregnant and they have to have a Long talk about it because Brainiac is. :) Being an asshole about species compatibility and the fact that it is "not natural" for Kryptonians to be created biologically rather than properly, in a pod, and also: Clark already has five freaking kids. That's a lot of kids! Are they going to be okay having a brother that much (at least five-ten years I'm thinking, depending on if we go: Brainiac gives him multiple children of multiple ages, or multiple young children of the same age,) younger than them??? And then there's Chris, too, who rocked up just after Clark and Lois started dating, and is still pretty high needs because he only mostly speaks Kryptonian (and is lowkey terrified of Brainiac, so Clark's main babysitter is out) (also please please imagine how freaking cute the subplot of "chris realises this brainiac is not the nightmare his stories told him about; watching his new siblings do things that Brainiac would have killed them for, terrified for them because he heard the stories of how long Brainiac bided his time--)

But this is also: how many kids can we give clark, the fic, and thus they have Jon, and then Jon exhibits so many kryptonian characteristics and Lois doesn't mean to but she's a little wine drunk and says, "i love them, you know, they're all perfect, Jon's perfect, I was just- I'm terrified for him. If we raise him right he's gonna be just like his dad…and you know what? I was wanting my own little Lane. Someone to follow my footsteps. I'm feeling a bit outnumbered here, haha!"

Brainiac: hm. I will amend this. (Makes and artificially grows human!Jordan so he displays more human genetic characteristics As Lois Wants)

Brainiac: I have created Jon-el's twin for you, Lane. You are welcome.

Lois: um what

Clark: honey no you can't talk about children with Brainiac he will make more

Lois: WHAT.

Lois: OUR CO-WORKERS KNOW I DIDN'T HAVE TWINS, KENT.

Clark: …. you're gonna have to be one of those weird "I didn't know I was still pregnant" stories…. 😂

Lois: 😭 Clark you know those are only funny when they are NOT HAPPENING TO ME

Clark: you didn't know you were pregnant….. literally

Lois must engage in the gaslighting of all of her coworkers <3 What do you mean you didn't realise she had twins she's shown you both of them? Of course they look the same they're babies. Of course she always had twins. She carried them. Did you carry her babies? Of course she would know. Isn't that right, Clark? …. isn't that right, Clark?

Clark: "Where else would she'a gotten a baby from, guys? An alien?"

Brainiac: hello i have delivered the child. Where is my thanks? It has still not been conveyed? I am doing the Literal Best as the Literal Best AI ever? Excuse me? You ignore Brainiac?

Brainiac: death for one thousand humans-!!!

Martha: 🥰 Brainiac I'm so proud of you for always making sure these kids are taken care of. Giving us Jordan! Oh, you marvellous robot

Brainiac: …. acceptable, Matriarch Kent

either that or Lois shoots herself in the foot and everyone thinks Clark is STILL the man with the world's worst luck and the strongest genetics ever:

"Lois, honey…how are Jon and Jordan so close in age? If they're not twins?"

"Uh- Jordan is adopted!"

Everyone: looks at Jordan, who is Jon's splitting image

Everyone: …..okay

Anyway because this AU is wildly cliche, very obviously the Bit of Brainiac that helped Clark grow up re-integrates with Brainiac prime during a Big Dramatic Battle where all of the Superfam are getting hurt, and manages to stop/halt Brainiac prime from hurting Clark and the Kryptokids at the cost of his existence.

Jordan gets to punch it in the circuits cause he's the only one not affected by kryptonite but still has the general invulnerability. (And then Jon and/or Kon and meeting the LoSH and they realise their grandfather Brainiac has very much been continued in Brainiac 5's code :3 for an open-ish happy ending of "hey good exists forever and always regardless of heritage")

GRANDPA LEARNS LOVE AND AFFECTION.

GRANDPA CHANGES FROM GENERAL SELF SERVICE AND SELFISHNESS AND REALISES HE LOVES KAL AND THE KENTS AND HE WILL PROTECT THEM

GRANDPA ALSO WANTS ACCESS TO THE INTERNET. There is a constant battle and it does work for a while because he is elected babysitter of the kryptokids and he is only a small part of Brainiac, five kids does stretch the circuits he developed from Clark's pod, but it's a constant cycle.

"Kal-el, son of house of el, I demand google, I have not finished investigating the 'man of Bats'. Why are there two variations of his name?"

"You mean Dark Knight?"

"THERE ARE THREE? KAL-EL, PROVIDE ME WITH THE WIFI IMMEDIATELY--"

Also when Brainiac finds out that Clark's birthday falls on a human holiday he. He tries. He tries to do pranks. Most of them are vaguely and accidentally evil (Chris cries when Brainiac takes over the internet for the day and makes every search engine answer questions wrong), but he tries. He knows Clark likes pranks! He is trying to participate! It's family bonding!!!

Braniac: It is your 33rd April fool's day.

Clark: Yep!

Braniac: I have finally decided to assist you with a prank.

Clark:...oh?

Braniac: Behold! (Small boy with dark hair, blue eyes and a square jaw walks in, dressed in a decent little suit.)

Clark: Braniac you CANNOT keep making...Wait. No. No you didn't--

Braniac: A prank to share with your closest friend!

Braniac: I have been calling him "Bruce" for my records, but you may want to pick something else for clarity.

Clark: 😦😳😬💀

(And thus we have Terry)

Also, while Clark is pretty secretive about his kids, when/if any of them go out with a Superfam name, and/or after he gets closer with the Justice League, there are little slip ups. He does really love his kids!!! And at the point where he's joined the JL he's been with Lois for a few years now and is used to mentioning them every now and then at the Daily Planet/trauma sure does bond you together :) and he trusts the core members of the JL pretty well. Someone makes fun of Bruce for his "hoard" of children and his "adoption problem" and Clark snorts and then chokes. Bruce has barely adopted Tim and/or has only just gotten Cass. Four? Please, Clark's almost at double digits.

Or Hal is talking about the fact that he doesn't know what to get his niece for her birthday; Clark asks how old she is, and goes "Seven? Oh, yeah. Go for Monster High, it's really big right now. The dolls are pretty cool."

"Lol why do you know so much about dolls, you have a secret collection-"

"What? No, my daughter likes them."

Hal:

Barry complains about how many birthdays he has to go to and Clark laughs. "Oh, tell me about it! Mia, Mark ((Match)), Chris and Mara all had birthday parties for their school friends in the same week - thank god for superspeed, right?"

Barry, who was talking about volunteering to visit kids' birthday parties at different orphanages in Central: Clark what are you talking about.

Also, Clark's an idiot and decides to introduce Brainiac's "prank" to Bruce on the watchtower because hey! It's neutral ground! And none of his kids can hear into space, thank fuck.

Clark: so....Bruce....you know how you were complaining about being an empty nester. Now that Damian's gone to college. Well. Hm. (pulls Terry from behind him) Surprise!

Bruce: .......You have a new child.

Clark: er. Well. sort of!

Terry, staring at Bruce like the autism creature: O_O

Bruce: .....I have a new child.

(also probably terry's backstory then includes some amanda waller induced kidnapping and potentially a bit of amnesia and adoption by another family but hey, he finds bruce again eventually!)

(also match does try and be the badboy of the family and does hang out with thad, when thad comes up to kill Bart, but. they both just. accidentally vaguely rehabilitate each other? They're not good, but they don't murder, at least. It's a low, low bar. When Clark tries to disappointed-face him, Match just says he's following in Grandpa Brainiac's footsteps and does Clark REALLY expect him to disregard a family legacy-- and you can give him some suicide squad angst or whatever, but the fam is still. there for him.)

(Mia and Kara get into a fist fight when they first meet; then they are best friends. Mia's not great at 'being Kryptonian', especially because she was one of the first attempts, and as per canon is technically a human who they tried to overwrite with Kryptonian DNA, and thus doesn't entirely understand Kara's connection to their 'home', but as a result she also ends up being Kara's confidant in it, because unlike Kal she does understand being taken away from your home and not being able to go back to it, and yet does not have...the same connection the way the other members of the Superfam do, and the disconnect allows Kara to actually talk about Kyrpton instead of mourn)

(Kon does try and grab the spotlight; Clark is trying to let him have freedom, after both Mia and Match went a bit....bitey at his attempts to keep them safe until they were older, but he's still the more naive of his siblings. Thankfully for Clark, he does get to introduce Kon to Robin, and while they don't hit it off, it is enough to mitigate the worst of the fallout of Rex's sleazy bs and Knockout's crimes ): When he joins YJ Clark is both proud of his heroism and a little scared that one of his kids is actually deciding to follow in his footsteps.)

(Mara is Kon's destabilised clone, from when he learns about paul westfield. We did not have enough girls in this family and thus part of their journey of self-identity was the fact that in a family of loud personalities they weren't great at speaking up; it takes a while for them to admit they want a new name and to use she/they pronouns, but by the time Jon and Jordan are five everyone's used to the change. Mara and Kon are closest, even though Kon and Mark/Match are technically sort-of twins; they clash waaay too much in temperament and personality. Kon was much better at playing protector to his little sibling, especially after they came out, and Mara shares "Supergirl" with Kara - she's only a backup member of the titans, though, and has the compassion and strength for heroism but sometimes too much empathy. Does a lot of relief work and peaceful outreach programs. They love a lot.)

(Chris?? no self sacrifice here!!! He has a bunch of fucking siblings with TTK, he is NOT going into that portal)

(There are two Nightwings; every now and then they debate who should switch to Flamebird, jokingly, and yet both of them have perfectly valid arguments - it's kryptonian! / I look good in blue! - and thus it never comes to fruition. When Mia and takes on Flamebird they give it up entirely; it helps that Chris ends up doing a lot of intergalactic work, so there isn't much confusion on earth with the call sign.)

When Jon is old enough to want to switch from Superboy he 100% puppydog eyes Chris into giving him the Nightwing handle so he can give it to Dami, and snags Flamebird from Mia. Dick decides he can live with that and is trying to take care of his own kid so is semi-retired (and can snag it back from Dami if he ever gets too bored).

For a bit there are def still two Flamebirds, but then Mia and Chris decide to team up for intergalactic stuff and to bully Mara into more fistfights, so then they're Trio and just go by Mar-El, Lor-Zod, and Mi-El. I know that is not how female names work on Krypron but I also think Lois Lane, who kept her name and also gave both Jon and Jordan her last name, hyphenated, heard of that shit and went "absolutely not". Either that or Mara decides to keep her Kryptonian name as Mar-El and Mia is Mia Kal-el, or copies her mom and is like naw Fuck This, especially considering her.....lack of general connection to Krypton? Could be fun for any :3 (Or maybe in space she just goes by Lane; time for her semi-mom to get recognition. Mara is already showcasing the house of El, Chris is rehabilitating the house of Zod, she's gonna kick butt for the house of Lois.)

....Though this does potentially mean i have accidentally called Match "Mat-el" and the Barbie jokes from that. Would be. Iconic.

Anyway that's the Grandpa Brainy au! Tune in next week when I force Cerata to watch Arthur and the Invisibles with me and start talking about bug-prince Kon-el and Lois' adventure to save her husband from a tiny evil overlord.

170 notes · View notes

theeoriginals · 7 months

Note

I’d love to see your take on an arranged marriage with klaus (like medieval times or some period like that). maybe he’s marrying her to get something from her/her family but there’s something a little off about the reader (hint: she does what giulia tofana did - google her if you’re not familiar!! her story is so fascinating) and when he pieces it together he’s smitten with her 💗💗

aqua tofana | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this has been in my inbox for over a month because i was so inspired by it that I decided a 14k oneshot was necessary I hope I did it justice

klaus mikaelson x reader (no y/n) use of nickname in place of y/n

warnings; arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, klaus is a little shit but so is reader so it's okay, no Y/N, mentions of domestic abuse but not in regards to reader, mentions of poison, fluff, shy!klaus (he is real to me), these two mfers are in LOVE, mikael (a warning in itself), minor violence and bloodshed but nothing too bad. if I missed anything let me know!! this is heavily inspired by ACOTAR bc I just binged the entire series in less than a week so thank you sarah j. maas for your service

The Mikaelsons were said to be a noble family. One with loyalty and strength.

They were coming to stay in their small kingdom, in their castle. Three of them. Elijah, Rebekah, and Niklaus. Looking for a safe haven, to avoid growing conflicts in surrounding areas. Looking for someplace to call home for a little while longer– at least, until they could no longer pass as mortals.

Riverend was perfect for them.

The way the people of Riverend saw it, their problems were their own, and the larger, outlying kingdoms could fight their nonsensical battles without any help from a small, useless kingdom built downstream from them, carved right out of the flowing water that traveled through their town square by the calloused hands of the families that still lived there today.

As far as anyone was concerned, Riverend had no monetary value, no natural resources to capitalize off of, no armies worth rallying, and no animals to trade. The only thing it had was its people, and to most, that meant nothing. It meant they went overlooked, and were never considered in territory battles and similar crises. But to the right person–a dangerous person– such a thing could mean everything.

That is why she was so wary to accept this supposedly noble family into their walls. She had to be wary, to think of the danger they could bring along with them should they stay. How much danger it could put her kingdom in.

It’s why she had further qualms about marrying the man the king had been corresponding with all these months. Said qualms, of course, outside of the fact that she had no real desire to marry, let alone to a stranger. All familiarity aside, she had a duty to her people to maintain their livelihoods and not leave them stranded for her own selfish desires. Even if it meant marrying some man.

With her mother’s voice in her head telling her to keep her chin up and her shoulders back, she was determined to keep her wits about her. She didn’t complain when she was asked to wear one of her nicer gowns to greet the family when they arrived that brisk, cloudy afternoon. She let her ladies dress her in a midnight blue gown that swept along the ground, with sleeves that draped over her hands, leaving no skin visible, spare for her neck and face.

She was escorted by the king to the throne room, where she stood at his shoulder, resting a hand on the embroidered fabric along the muscle hidden beneath the layers. A silent, supportive daughter. A perfect royal family, to anyone who might linger too long while looking in their direction.

Two of their sentries escorted their new houseguests into the throne room, and she did nothing but raise a brow at their humble appearance. The girl, Rebekah, was young. She’d seen better days, and she silently wondered where they had traveled from that had them end up before her and her father with dirt scuffs on their cheeks, and scruffy, unkempt facial hair marring their jaws.

“Welcome, Lords and Lady, to our home,” Her father spoke genially, a content smile on his face as if he was unaware of the judgmental look his daughter was fixing them with. “We’re honored to have you here, honored to build a bridge between our families for years to come.”

One of the long-haired men spoke, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, making him look like he was some proper gentleman and not a random man who had shown up on her doorstep.

“The honor is all ours, Your Majesty. The opportunities that your generosity has given my family have not gone unnoticed. We thank you and the Princess for your kindness.”

The King shifted slightly like he’d forgotten his daughter was there. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and she met his gaze, peering down at him over the bridge of her nose. “Yes, my daughter. Nyxia. She’s a woman of few words, I must warn you all. And when she chooses to speak, it’d do you well to listen closely.”

All of their eyes shifted to her, but the set of icy blue ones had never left. Not to meet the king’s eyes, or look around at his new home for the foreseeable future of their impending marriage.

“Your Highness,” Blue eyes, suddenly alight with fire. Flame that burns her from the tips of her toes to the base of her scalp that her very hair grows out of. Flame that ravages civilizations, and wipes out bloodlines. She can feel the darkness in him from two simple words. It’d take a fool to not see it. “I look forward to getting to know you before our prospective arrangement takes place.”

He wasn’t lying, she could tell. But his words seemed to hold as much weight as hers did. A hidden meaning tucked behind every spoken syllable. Dangerous. So dangerous. The King was a fool to not see it, but that was neither here nor there.

Licking her lips, she chose her first words carefully. It was always important to make a lasting first impression, but with this man– with her future husband, she wanted to be honest from the start. She wanted, for once, to reveal her hand before the game started. Just to see what he’d do. Just to see what he had planned.

But she didn’t. She knew it would just be chaos. And even though such things were in her blood, she couldn’t risk anything this far into everything.

“Lord Niklaus,” She didn’t move a muscle besides the ones it took to make words form on her tongue. “My kingdom rejoices with your arrival. They will be overjoyed with the announcement of our nuptials.”

And the man, encased in his flames that felt as if they could burn the whole world down should he please, tilted his head and smirked at her. Like he’d heard every thought she’d had in the moments between words.

Nothing else was said between them, not verbally, at least, and the king interrupted the rising tension that was so obvious between the Princess and the Mikaelson siblings, oblivious to the people he’d surrounded himself with.

“Lady Rebekah, my daughter can show you to your rooms in the east wing. You’ll have ladies of your own to help you bathe and dress,” He gestures to the blonde, who looks childishly excited at the thought. “The both of you will be in the west wing, my men can take you to your rooms. We can reconvene tonight at dinner, yes?”

The three siblings bowed at their waist, easily deferring the power back to the King.

“In the meantime, feel free to explore. Our home is yours, now. Make yourselves comfortable.”

She stayed in the throne room long after even her father had left, watching the doors the siblings had been escorted through. She lingered at her place beside the throne, nearly behind it, where her mother once stood behind a man who looked like he belonged on a throne more than any woman would. She laid a hand around the back of the embossed silver and thought to herself that it would look better in gold.

──────

Klaus watched his wife-to-be dig into the dinner presented before them moments ago, her fork the first one to move, even before her father’s. She didn’t sit at the head of the table, but just to the right of her father, and Klaus had taken the seat across from her. He did not doubt that she could feel his eyes on her, but she was pointedly ignoring it in favor of talking to his sister at her side.

Rebekah, ever the people pleaser. Even in their centuries on this earth, Rebekah could never resist the desire to cling to the nearest female in their proximity. He hadn’t said anything to her about it, yet. He figured there was no harm in letting her delude herself into thinking that Princess Nyxia wanted anything to do with any of them.

Elijah wasn’t even pretending to be friendly like he tended to be in this position. He’d been silent for a majority of the day, perhaps tired from their travels, though Klaus doubted it was anything so simple. If Klaus were to look at himself as a King, it would be Elijah as his second, watching everything and everyone, dutifully reporting back to him about usurpers and battles to come. It would be Elijah ripping hearts out, and Klaus taking responsibility for the blood on his brother’s hands.

There was a reason it was only the three of them. His other siblings just didn’t understand that you did everything for family.

He supposes that’s why he’s so curious about the two royals before him. They were the only family they had left, and yet there was something unspoken there, something withheld between them that left a tenuous truce. There was such anger behind Nyxia’s eyes, and Klaus had the urge to push and push at it until it finally shattered. Elijah often compared him to a child for this inane urge, and Klaus couldn’t deny it.

“This food is lovely, Your Majesty,”

Rebekah looked at Nyxia’s father with a sweet little smile, and Klaus wondered how she managed to maintain such a degree of humanity inside of her after everything.

“Oh, it’s all my sweet Nyx,” He turns his pleasant, kingly smile to his daughter. Looks like he owes her the world. She doesn’t return an ounce of the fondness, but she still smiles, like she knows it’s expected of her. “She has specific tastes, so I prefer her to pick the menu. Our cooks in the kitchen work to make it all come to life and it never disappoints.”

It works in the way that it makes Rebekah turn adoring eyes onto Nyxia once again, but it doesn’t do as such for the two brothers. There’s something about this place that drew them to it in the first place and they wanted to figure it out, neither of them did very well when it came to venturing into the unknown, so they devised the plan. It’s set in motion, it’s happening as they sit at this table and eat this food, and yet he still feels wrongfooted. He’s missing something, he’s missing the thing that brought him to this small kingdom in the first place.

He doesn’t like living in the dark.

Elijah cuts a thin bite of the lamb chop on the plate in front of him. “Do you cook, then, Princess?”

“If I am feeling particularly inspired, yes,” She grabs her silver chalice, swirling the dark red wine in it before she takes a drink. “I prefer vinification.”

The King’s face lights up like he’d been waiting for another opportunity to brag on his daughter. “Yes, Nyxia made the wine we’re drinking tonight. She tries to make a personal barrel at least once a year, and it’s always the most unique flavor. She goes out and picks fruits from our trees up near the bluffs, where–”

“I’m sure they aren’t interested to know what fruits our land produces, Father.”

“On the contrary,” Her eyes shot to Elijah at his words. “I think it’d be quite ignorant of us to turn down any knowledge of the land we’re to call… home. It seems to be a very special place.”

She watches him for a moment, eyes narrowing at his unsuspecting tone. “Yes,” She muses quietly, looking away from Elijah to meet Klaus’s gaze like she can tell Elijah’s speaking on his behalf. “Perhaps I’ll show you what makes it so special.”

None of them acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t so much of an offering of camaraderie, but rather a threat.

──────

Months go by. Time passes peacefully, but Klaus is growing restless.

With the announcement of their joining sent out to the few people they intended to invite outside of their kingdom, they had begun preparing the castle for the celebration and the princess found herself preoccupied with menial tasks, like picking out what flower arrangements to line the aisle with and what color banners should hang from the ceilings above them.

Throughout it, she’d done her best to avoid the Mikaelsons but maintained a close enough distance so they couldn’t claim she was giving them the cold shoulder. She’d grown quite good at falsifying closeness throughout her years. She was designed to have a connection with her people that displayed generosity but not bias. A relatability, but not a weakness.

She was sure that Rebekah would call them best friends by now, but she also knew the girl could not even tell a person what the princess’s favorite color was if someone ever bothered to ask her.

She has always been able to exist in a way that makes her entirely extraordinary, but forgettable the moment she’s out of sight.

She’s been able to use the wedding as an excuse to avoid isolated interactions with Klaus, but she knew he’d catch her without an excuse one of these days. She would’ve preferred to avoid it for a bit longer, but she wasn’t unprepared when it finally happened.

Standing in the aisle of the throne room where the banners of white and gold were hanging above the place they were to stand in front of her people and all of the guests they’d sent invitations out to and declare an undying bond that didn’t exist, she felt a rage bubble inside of her that she was quick to smother into nothing but cinders and ash when she heard the doors creak open behind her and footsteps slow as he stopped beside her.

“You’re a hard woman to track down, Princess,”

“You could have sent for me at any time. It is my duty to serve my subjects,”

She glances at Klaus out of the corner of her eye and sees an amused look grow on his face. “Is that what I am? One of your subjects?”

“Until we are bound by law, yes, Lord Mikaelson. You are one of my subjects and I your Princess. Soon enough you’ll be Prince, and you will also owe loyalty to my subjects because this place does not exist without them.”

“You take such pride in this kingdom, in these lands, yet you did not win it in a battle, have not even fought in one, as far as I’m aware. You have no value to other kingdoms, and yet your father brags of orchards and vineyards with bountiful fruits. He tells tales of heroic civilians, always offering a helping hand to those in need. Sparing what they can, to maintain their peace here. It’s an odd thing, considering I’d never seen or heard of Riverend before that time all those months ago when I first met your father.”

“And yet, here you stand, within the walls of my kingdom, amongst my people. In my home.”

There’s no humor in her voice. There isn’t any hatred in it, either, and he can tell she’s got that impenetrable mask on again. Even her momentary anger or irritation was different from this nothingness.

He can hear her father’s words from that very first day, telling them all that her words are important. He remembers thinking it was such an odd thing to point out at that time. It almost rings like a warning, now, and not a twisted compliment for the woman.

“It’s curious, is all. I wonder if I’ll understand what inspires such devotion once I am Prince, or if it is a feeling only you experience.”

She turns, finally, to look at him. “You are interested in learning what makes me love my people and my home?”

He ducks his head in a nod. “Guilty, I suppose.”

“Then I will show you,” She nods once, firmly. Like she’s just decided it then and there because of his earnest words, and he thinks it’s a ridiculous, rash thing, but when he looks into her eyes there is no hesitation or wariness. “Tonight, we will have dinner and I will answer all of your questions. I will show you why I would spill endless blood for this kingdom, and never ask any of my people to do the same for me in return.”

He raises his brows, letting a sliver of his suspiciousness show in his icy, blue-gray eyes. “You’re offering such honesty to my family after weeks of pretending like we don’t exist? Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your generosity.”

“Not your family. You. You and I will have dinner alone, and I will tell you everything you want to know,” She corrects him, earning a more genuine look of shock from him. “You are to be my husband. One day you will be my King, and I your Queen. Is honesty not the place to start?”

Klaus falls silent, watching her, waiting for a slip-up. For any sign of hesitation or scheming behind her endless eyes. Finding nothing, he bites out a wry laugh and nods in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from her to look around at the decorated throne room.

The betrotheds stand silent together for a few minutes, and she offers no insight into whatever it is she’s thinking as she stares at the throne front and center in the room.

“Is my help needed for our wedding?” Klaus says suddenly as if there isn’t a mounting tension building in the room like a shadow of the night.

“Not unless you are offering,” She says simply. “I’ve told them white and gold, for our colors. My dress is to be fashioned similarly, as are your garments. I’m sure you’ll be summoned for fittings, but our seamstresses have plenty of work to do before then.”

The man hummed agreeingly. “Then I shall leave you to it. And I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“Before you go, Lord Mikaelson,”

“I am certain you can call me Niklaus. Just Klaus if you’re feeling particularly agreeable that day, Princess,”

She raised a brow like one might raise their lips in humor. “Niklaus.”

He looks at her indulgently.

“Even after we are married, outside of our duties to this kingdom, I will never ask you for anything,” She says, her words striking something like a warning bell inside him. “But right now, I have a question for you.”

“Ask me anything, Princess,”

“Do you know who you are?”

Klaus’s eyebrows flexed on his forehead. “Pardon?”

She turns to face him head-on, standing before him like she did that first day they arrived, only this time there was barely a foot of distance between them. He could almost see her pulse move in the long lines of her throat. “I ask you, as your future wife, do you know who you are? Do you feel the shadow that shields your soul? Do you feel the fire that consumes you?”

She tilts her head at his suspended silence. “You hide from the light that is still inside of you. You hide from someone. But you won’t hide from me. You can’t. It is because of that unfair advantage that I am offering you honesty. Know that I do this for you as an act of trust. Do not underestimate the weight of such a thing, or you will see just what I am willing to do for this place.”

She side-steps him and walks past him, leaving him in a stunned silence that quickly turns into rage that they both know he can’t take out on anything within the walls of this castle, and the borders of this kingdom.

She’s established the high ground. And she has made it clear that it is not Klaus standing up there, looking down at her, but rather the other way around.

She’s offered to even the playing field, though. He’s curious to see just how much honesty she’ll be parting with tonight. He’s curious to see how it will end.

──────

The table is set for two.

It’s different from the dining table they’ve been occupying for the past three weeks. This is a table made for two, and only for two.

Candlelight casts shadows around the room, and Klaus does a slight double take as he walks towards the table, escorted quietly by one of the sentries from his quarters to this room. He’s loath to admit he was distracted by thinking about all of the possibilities of this dinner to pay attention to the fact that he was being led to the east wing and not the usual central hall where meals were had.

But it’s too late for him to question it, as the sentry is walking out and a door across the room opens, revealing the princess.

She’s changed again– always in different gowns throughout the day. This one is similar to the one she was wearing when they first met. A blue so dark it looks black, that holds color like the night sky. Sleeves that drape over her shoulders and cinch down to her wrist, leaving only her hands bare. With the dim lighting of this private dining room, shadows dance around her face, and he thinks to himself that the shadows cling to her.

She gestures for him to take a seat, already doing so, and she immediately grabs a corked bottle from the side of the table, popping it open and pouring their golden chalices halfway full before she sets it back down.

Klaus takes the first drink and has to bite back the pleased noise he starts to make, if only out of spite.

“I’ve been fermenting this wine for three years,” She informs him, seemingly hearing the noise anyway, if the gleam in her eye is anything to go by. “It’s from my private reserves.”

“Aren’t they all from your private reserves?”

“No, I give barrels to the tavern in town,” She swirls it around in her cup, quirking a brow at him.

“Give, or sell?”

“Aren’t you the one who said I have undying generosity for this kingdom for no good reason?” She takes a small sip of the wine, holding it in her mouth for a moment before she sets it down. “It’s too bitter for my liking.”

Klaus hums, taking another drink. “Perhaps you’re just your own biggest critic,”

“Mm, perhaps,” She concedes, fluttering her eyes in a slight roll. It’s as casual as he’s ever seen her, and she’s still sitting stock-straight in her chair, shoulders back and chin high. As royal as ever. “Are you going to start asking your questions?”

He smirks, tilting his head in a slight nod. “Maybe I was waiting for your permission. I wouldn’t want to be a rude dinner guest, after all. Not after you’ve brought this lovely meal into this secluded space,”

“It’s mine. I don’t always prefer to eat in the company of others,” She says. “My bedroom is through that door.”

She points to the door she’d come through upon his arrival, and his eyes follow the curve of her arm through the fabric shifting along it.

“How lucky I am, then, hm?”

“Oh, most people would not call it luck, Niklaus. In fact, I think I heard your brother say to your sister once that it feels like you’re all just sheep in a wolf’s den.”

Klaus makes a dry noise of acknowledgment, mentally cursing his brother for saying such things within earshot of anyone, let alone his soon-to-be wife. “My brother’s desire to protect this family often leads him to paranoia, I’m afraid.”

“I never said he was wrong.”

Klaus’s hands flex in his lap, out of view of the princess. “Oh, is that so? Then maybe I am ready to start asking questions,”

She beckons him on with a wave of her hand. Neither of them has touched their meals. He doesn’t think they’ve broken eye contact, either. Locked in this stalemate, tension rising and rising and rising.

“I have traveled far and wide in my days on this planet, and I have come across some very strange places, I must say. But never have I come across a place that simply… doesn’t exist,”

If Klaus knew any better, he’d think she looked excited at the words coming out of his mouth.

“That is not a question, my Lord,”

He smirks at her correction. “What is it? What is it that hides this place from the map? How do you keep travelers passing through, yet no one has ever had so much as a–a tall tale, or some monster story to tell about this place? You fight in no wars but you have sentries stationed throughout this castle, on guard every night and day. You trade no goods, but these lands are bountiful in fruits and vegetables, crops as big as this castle grow in people’s yards. So, tell me, Princess Nyxia, how do you do it?”

She shifts in her chair, leaning her arm onto the armrest, and for the first time since he met her all those months ago, she smiles.

She smiles widely, and it’s not something wicked or cold, but instead, it’s amusement, through and through. Every bit of that coldness stays in her eyes, though. Darkness still clinging to her like a child and its mother.

“There are stories about things– creatures so dangerous that you cannot even utter their name, for fear of inviting them into your home, your mind,” She starts, undoubtedly aware of the anticipation thrumming in his veins. He’s had to be so careful about feeding since they came here, compelling people, and never taking too much, because he can’t risk her catching on. He thinks he feels more human than ever within these walls, and it’s such an odd thing.

“My real name has not been spoken in decades. Most people in this kingdom, in this castle, do not know me as anything other than Nyxia. It is the name that my mother held when people started to refuse to say her name as well, and in honor of her great life, I now bear it as my own.”

Klaus lets out a slow breath, a feeling like adrenaline coursing through him. “What are you, Nyxia?”

“I am the shadows that follow you along the walls, I am the very stars in the sky. I am the end to every day, and I will be the end to it all when I am finally called back home. I am the thing you see every time you blink your eyes, Klaus Mikaelson. I am darkness.”

He shuffles, leaning his elbows onto the table to examine her closely, in a way that he hasn’t had the chance to do since their arrival. “You keep this place hidden so that people don’t find you and hunt you.”

“Why do you think you and your siblings found this place? Why do you think you could see and remember what so many others could not?” She raised a brow, pulling her cloth napkin from her lap and dropping it atop her untouched plate. “I know what you are, Niklaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid. The divide in you is shadowed in darkness. I am, and have been a part of your very being from the day you took your first breath and were declared a bastard.”

He flinches minutely, but she sees it anyway. “Why me? Why lure me and my family here? To kill us? I have no doubt you have every means to kill creatures such as ourselves if your claims of power are to be taken as truth.”

“I have no intention to kill you, Klaus,” She pushes her chair back from the table, standing up. Silently, she gestures for him to do the same. “I have not yet told you why I do what I do here.”

“You haven’t even told me what you do here, let alone why,”

She chuckles freely and he ignores the chill that travels down his spine at the sound. It’s like she’s been waiting on him to break this dam between them, and now that her secret is out, she’s alive.

She’d told him earlier to realize the weight that is behind her trust, her honesty. He will admit to himself that he had underestimated it, even in the wake of her precautions.

“Your family is not expecting you tonight, right?”

He raises his brows but shakes his head. “I told them I’d be having dinner with you and that I’d be out for the night. Why do you ask?”

“We’ll be taking a trip. I have things to do,”

It’s all she says before she leads him into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them.

──────

Draped in cloaks that covered their faces in shadows she had promised him would keep them hidden while they made their way through muddy alleys and thick groves of trees, Klaus couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into.

He didn’t often admit that he was in over his head– was rarely in such a position at all– but this. This was something he was utterly in the dark about. The irony wasn’t lost on him, either.

“Where are we going, Princess?”

“You may call me Nyxia, you know. You did earlier,”

“I am nothing if not a gentleman, Princess Nyxia,”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an unfamiliar degree of humor in the action. He’s still discombobulated at her complete flip of a switch, but he’s trying to familiarize himself with it. He selfishly hopes that she doesn’t slide that cold mask back on when they return to the castle.

“They’ll be just through here,” Nyxia led them through another tightly packed thicket of trees, and just as Klaus was about to complain, they broke through into a clearing that nearly took his breath away.

Though they were undoubtedly still surrounded by the forest she’d traipsed them through for the past hour, at least, this ovaloid clearing was shrouded in a different kind of darkness than the night that encased the rest of the area.

Light up by the stars glimmering just out of reach above their heads, women mingled about, stopping to talk to one another. A few children ran by, laughing as they chased one another barefoot through the trees, disappearing out of sight and earshot as soon as they left the area, only to reappear before him like a bursting bubble.

Klaus turned slightly to look at Nyxia, watching her pull her cloak down off her head and smile kindly, genuinely, to the people who had stopped and gathered around them. Klaus took the cue and pulled his own hood off, and his presence immediately earned wary looks.

Glancing at Nyxia, he fought the urge to jump when her hand landed on his arm, her face contorting into an understanding but reassuring look. “No, no, look,”

She pulled Klaus closer to her, keeping her hand wrapped around his arm as he looked warily at the sea of faces watching him. Feeling entirely caught off guard, he stayed silent, happily letting Nyxia take the reins.

“This is my betrothed,” Her words immediately earn a variety of reactions. From the children, their hesitance turns into immediate adoration. From the older women, teasing laughs are shared between them, and Nyxia bats a hand out to silence them, though it’s not done out of real offense.

Friends, he realizes. These are her friends. She’s brought him to meet her friends that she has hidden in this patch of woods, further secluding a place that already doesn’t exist outside of its own bubble.

An unavoidable arrow of fondness shoots down his spine, and he bats it away as quickly as he can.

“So our lovely princess has finally brought a prince to meet us,” One of the older women grins tauntingly, and Klaus eyes the wrinkles around her mouth that only come from smiling too much, and the strands of gray hair falling out of the braids she’s got piled atop her head.

“Klaus,” He says, somewhat shocked by the emotion in his voice. “You may call me Klaus.”

“Klaus, then,” The woman nods, conveying something to Nyxia that is seemingly translated between the two of them, though Klaus couldn’t even begin to guess what went unsaid.

Nyxia finally removes her hand from his arm to reach into her cloak, pulling three small bottles out and passing them off to the older woman, whose face turns somewhat solemn.

“I know that one is for Merida,” The woman starts, meeting Nyxia’s gaze from beneath her lashes. “But who are the other two?”

“Reya and Liesl,”

The woman curses beneath her breath and apologizes when the children nearby gasp.

“When am I to bring this to them?”

“Within the week. It has only been getting worse lately,”

As if she were a soldier being told her life was being offered up on the chopping block, the woman nodded and tucked the vials into the deep pockets of the dress she wore. “I will send word once they are here.”

“Thank you, Theresé,” She grabs Klaus’s arm gently once more, beginning to steer him towards the path they’d taken, but she stops short, looking over her shoulder with a slight smirk. “You are all invited to the wedding, of course. Next month. I will send someone to escort you to the castle.”

A bout of excited tittering follows them out, and they walk in silence, heading a bit of the way back towards the castle before she leads them off to the left, walking them across one of the runoff creeks that flow with the river through town.

He remains silent until she leaves his side to push open a gate ahead of them, the metal creaking and groaning beneath her force, but giving way eventually.

This time, when Klaus steps forward, he instantly knows where he is. “The orchard,”

“Yes,” Nyxia takes a deep breath in, releasing it quietly. “Come, let’s sit.”

She leads him to a wooden bench down the main aisle in between the trees full of ripe fruit, all looking ready to be harvested and used.

“That place,” He starts once they’ve been seated for a moment, Klaus watching Nyxia’s profile as she basks beneath shadows and night of her own making. “What is it?”

“It has no name,” She informs him, her voice unexpectedly soft.

She’s been so different this entire night, he wonders how long she’s been waiting for someone to just ask her these questions. Every person who’s been close enough to do it has been too scared of what wrath they may face if they did ask her about the oddities of her home, but Klaus did it because he can’t help but push people.

“It has no name, and no one knows of it besides the ones who live there, and myself. Now, you do, too,”

“What is the purpose of it? Why is it only women and children?”

She takes a long moment to think about her words, and he can see the way she struggles to verbalize her thoughts because no one had ever thought to ask her before. “Just because I am darkness does not mean that I can control all that exists in this world. I can’t take away what already exists, no matter how much I wish to. That place is what I call a loophole. I have them hidden all around the world. Because I cannot erase what already exists, I must find a way to work around it. To remove the darkness I wish to see gone without violating the laws of my making.”

“And what exactly have you been working around?”

“Humanity,” She says simply. “With every passing decade, they tear themselves apart more and more. My loopholes exist to take people out of that chaos, of the darkness. Sometimes it’s a hungry child or a bastard,”

Klaus glances away for a moment before forcing his gaze back to hers.

“Sometimes it is a woman that gets sold to the highest bidder. The woman I spoke to, Theresé, was one of the first women I saved from a nearby village. Her husband was an utter brute and had killed his first wife when she had barely seen sixteen name days. Theresé was strong, but there was only so much she could do before the inevitable. So I stepped in and I proposed a hypothetical situation to her, where all she would have to do is make him dinner and serve him wine, and meet me outside of her home later that night.

“I did not think she would do it, but when the moon was high in the sky, I waited outside of her house and barely breathed until she was standing before me in one piece, with tears in her eyes and bruises on her cheek. So I told her who I was and what I wanted to do, and she said she would help me if I continued to save women who had been in her position. So I have. The girls I mentioned, Reya and Liesl. Young girls, friends since childhood. They were married off to the same man, a prince of some second-rate kingdom a few days north that had already gone through 3 wives. They have just found out they’re both pregnant, and fear raising children in the environment they live in.”

Realization dawns on him. “You give them poison. The wine you make,”

She hums in assent and silence falls between them once more, the princess dutifully letting Klaus turn the events of the night over and over in his head, finally slotting pieces together where they’d been misaligned for months.

“Why?” He breathes out, his tone of disbelief earning her attention once more. “Why did you bring me there when you’ve barely spoken to me all these months? When you have known what I am and who my family is, and you knew I was suspicious from the very start, why have you just now shown me the truth?”

Sighing, Nyxia looks down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “I fear that my honesty is about to get me in trouble for the first time tonight.”

“Just tell me,” He shakes his head pleadingly. “Please.”

“Death consumes your very soul, Klaus,” Her voice takes on a distant tone, one he recognizes more than any fondness or humor she’s shown throughout the night. It’s the way she’d spoken to him since he first arrived, down to that very morning in the throne room, overlooking preparations for their wedding. “It is a fire that burns you from the inside out. And because of that fire, there is a shadow on you. And in that shadow, I exist. I see parts of you that you likely would not share with me, and for good reason.”

Klaus can’t help the way he flinches, shifting away from her on the bench. She looks unsurprised at this particular reaction, but her fingers twitch like she’s going to reach out for him again.

She doesn’t.

“I have known you much longer than you have known me, and for that, I apologize. When you first arrived, I was still hesitant to believe what I had felt, and I– I am much different in the daylight. I am at my weakest when the sun is out, and that has never changed. But– other things have.”

“Your father–”

“He is not my father,” She cuts him off, voice reverting to that cold indifference for a split second. “Once upon a time, he was a man. A king. But he was not a kind man, let alone a kind king. So I took the darkness in his mind, and I collapsed it from within. I made him hollow with it, and now he is but a puppet. A face to put on our currency, so that I may do as I please without so much attention. My people remember the cruel man, and they remember what I did for them. That is why I have their respect. Their loyalty. Trust breeds trust.”

Klaus’s jaw clenches. “And when you decide you’re ready to become Queen one day, and I become a King, will you also make me into a puppet? Will I be nothing but a conduit of political jargon made to distract people from your loopholes?”

Nyxia’s eyes burn, but they are dark. Almost black.

“I did not bring you here to make you a puppet, Niklaus,”

“Then why did you bring me here? Tell me, Nyxia. Tell me the truth.”

“I brought you here because I want to protect you,”

Klaus’s lip curls in a snarl and he stands up, cloak billowing around him. He turns at the feeling of a slight breeze and finds himself looking at the castle from a high distance, and he wonders if he’d been in such shock that he hadn’t noticed their uphill hike, or if this was another one of her tricks.

Clenching his jaw, he turns to look down at her. “I do not need protecting, Princess. I have done nothing but protect myself and my family for hundreds of years.”

“I know that, Klaus,” She spits out, looking as angry as he feels. Both of them are stubborn to a fatal degree. “But I want you to let me do it anyway!”

Klaus lets out a harsh breath through his nose, turning to look away from her as his chest heaves with frustrated breaths. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion practically slaps him in the face as it settles over him and he finds his racing thoughts finally slowing down, seeming to process in his mind after the eventful night.

“I understand that this has all been unexpected,” She starts, voice carefully neutral in the wake of both of their tempers. “And I will not blame you for being upset. But trust me when I say that I have your best interests in heart, for you and your family.”

“I’m to trust you after you’ve shown me only a fraction of the truth?”

Her soft look has shuttered away when he looks at her again. “I told you,” She whispers, voice quiet but certainly not weak with how thick it was around the emotion clenching around her windpipe. “That I was putting all of my trust into you the moment I told you what I am. The danger that I have thrust upon you and myself just by sharing all of this with you is endless. I have bared my soul to you in a single night, Klaus Mikaelson, and then you spit in my face by asking me if I am trustworthy.”

“Nyxia,”

She stands from the bench abruptly, pulling the hood of her cloak back up over her head. “We should go. I don’t want to run into the guards at the shift change.”

“Nyxia, just–”

“We’re leaving,” She cuts him off, not looking back to see if he’s following after her as she stalks off towards the gates she’d opened for him, just for him, moments ago. “Either join me, or find your own way back.”

Klaus pulls his own hood up and is quick to fall into step a few paces behind her because he isn’t nearly stupid enough to think that their easygoing atmosphere from earlier is still lingering. All because he couldn’t stop the traitorous beating of his heart and the way his skin crawled at the thought of entrusting the safety of his family to anyone else.

She is going to be family soon enough, though. If she’ll still have him, that is.

──────

The tension in the castle is thick for a few days before it’s suddenly dampened with something painful.

Rain begins to pour and does not stop for three days straight. Most foot traffic that is in and out of the castle for wedding planning is put on pause at the King’s order. Not worth risking the safety and integrity of any person or thing for one wedding.

Klaus doesn’t see or hear from Nyxia for those three days, and on the fourth day of heavy downpours, of him being stuck in the library with his brother or listening to his sister drone on about a particularly handsome guard, he breaks. He walks the path the sentry had taken him down into the East Wing of the castle and knocks on the thick wooden door, tilting his head just to hear the heart beating faintly on the other side of it. It’s the only reason he even knows she’s alive, and he can’t stop the relief that soothes his nerves.

It doesn’t manage to get rid of the cloud of guilt that’s been hanging above his head since that night in the orchard, nor does it make him want to turn around and leave.

“Princess?” His voice is low, but he knows she’ll hear it if she’s listening. “I was just…”

He trails off, unsure of what excuse to offer up for his impromptu visit. A lie, a half-truth. The whole truth.

It’s the least he could do in return, offer her honesty. Since he threw hers right back in her face four nights ago.

“May I come in, please?”

Silence follows his question, but when he pushes on the door slightly, it creaks open, and he steps through as quickly as possible, not willing to take the chance that it was a fluke. He’s greeted with darkness broken up by dim firelight, and his eyes take a moment to adjust, that concern inside of him chipping away at his pride.

“Princess?” He asks again, voice low in the dim room. His brows twitch on his forehead, pulling together. “Nyxia?”

There’s a shift of fabric from the four-poster bed a few feet in front of him, and he can see the orange glow in the room the moment she turns to face him.

Even in the poor lighting, he can see the sunken shadows of her face and the way the stars in her eyes have gone dull.

“Nyxia?” He nearly gasps her name as he rushes to her bedside, dropping to his knees beside it as he takes in her sickly features. “What’s happened to you?”

She lets out a shaky breath that sounds like it hurts. “Sometimes… sometimes I let them take too much,”

Confusion passes over him momentarily before a realization hits him. “The loopholes… this place… it drains you, doesn’t it?”

She nods where her head is pressed into the pillow.

He lifts a trembling hand to her cheek, brushing invisible dirt off of her cheek. He can feel the clammy sweat tainting her skin, the fever roaring in her veins. How odd it must be to be an immortal creature taken down by something comparable to a cold.

“Why?” He shakes his head, genuine disbelief coating the word as he watches his betrothed wheeze out a few more breaths. “Why do you let them do this? Why do you do this?”

She smiles and there's a tired pull to it, and she leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “People are so scared of me,” Her voice is impossibly soft, so unfamiliar, and yet he feels that ache in his chest, the desire to hear it more. To hear her more. “They are scared of everything. The least I can do is make my darkness feel safer.”

He thinks it shatters something in him, to hear her grand reasoning behind everything. To hear that underneath that cold exterior, and the soft one, too, the woman before him just wants people to feel safe in her shadows. She wants them to leave behind lives of unhappiness, to not feel fear when the moon rises in the sky and stars hang over their heads. She doesn’t want them to fear the thought of a monster under their bed but rather feel protected by it. By her.

She wants to do that for him. For his family. And he’d practically laughed in her face.

A shame buries itself deep in him, and he finds himself lurching forward slightly, face hovering above hers to keep her attention while she loses her lucidity before his eyes. “What can I do? What can I do to make this better?”

She reaches a hand up from beneath her blankets and rests it atop his. “Stay. Just stay with me, please,”

He nods and holds back more words he’s simply not ready to say yet. Reluctantly leaves her side for a moment to bring a chair to her bedside, and once again intertwine their hands together.

He watches her fall asleep and continues watching her well into the night. It doesn’t feel like a chore, or anything of the sort. He thinks he’d be content to spend a few years of his eternity just sitting here with her.

──────

It takes another four days for Nyxia to be able to get out of bed without feeling weak. In those days she regains a bit of that life back into her eyes, and Klaus is there to see every speck of it grow. He sees the shadows get darker again, not as faded and murky as they seemed to be when she was in the worst of it. It makes him happy in a way that he wouldn’t have ever expected it to.

They spend those four days together in a bubble of their own, with small touches shared between each other. Lingering glances and longing looks are shared from across the dining table while they share meals with his family and the king.

He doesn’t know if all of it means he’s forgiven for his harsh words in the orchard. He doesn’t let himself hope for anything, because he’s not sure if he deserves it after everything.

It’s a particular train of thought he hasn’t let come to fruition for his own sanity. Instead, he’s relished in the freshly budding relationship between him and his wife-to-be. The partnership that’s being created. The friendship.

He finds himself in the library that remains hidden behind one, nondescript door that opens up to high ceilings, and endless bookshelves. The first time she’d taken him to see it, he’d spent the entire evening looking through the books, getting lost in the history books she had in her collection.

As the days go by, he finds himself there more and more, and it seems that Nyxia’s in the same boat.

Hands skimming against the worn spines of the books, Klaus’s mind travels near and far, and he lets his imagination run wild. It’s a rare occurrence, this vulnerability that he’s found within these walls, beneath Nyxia’s care, so he can’t be faulted for being caught off guard when a book slides out from the shelf on the other side and he snaps his gaze up to meet her amused one.

There’s no doubt she misses the slight intake of breath he does at her sudden presence, but she gives him the grace of not saying anything about it out loud. Her face is framed between the two shelves and she grins widely, unabashedly, in the shadows of the books. “Hiding in the art history books again, Niklaus?”

He ducks his head, glancing at the lone book he is holding in his hands, a finger shoved between pages to hold his place while he searches through other titles. Lifting his eyes back up to meet hers once more, he shrugs a shoulder, poorly feigning obliviousness.

“It’s alright, at least I always know where I can find you,” She quickly dismisses his uncharacteristic shyness, and he’s once again grateful for it, even if he’s not sure if she does it for her own sake or his. “I wanted to ask you a question, actually, about the wedding.”

He raises a brow, not hiding his surprise. She rarely brings the wedding up to him these days, and with the celebration in just five days, the castle staff was bustling about more than ever. Klaus only ever looked at the gold and white decor lining the throne room in passing, usually hurrying through to track Nyxia down somewhere in the castle, or dodging his brother’s increasingly personal questions about the state of his relationship with the Princess.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about the wedding, despite Nyxia rarely saying anything to him about it. He found himself wondering just how the day would transpire as it drew closer, wondered how all of the fittings he did for his garments a while back would look like in the end, and wondered endlessly about just what Nyxia would be walking down the aisle in.

“It’s about the guest list,”

Her voice pulls him from the frequent thought and he bites the tip of his tongue in silent reprimand. Clearing his throat quietly, he looked at her. “What of it? I thought invitations were sent out months ago,”

“They were,” She confirms, nodding once. Her voice takes on a hint of that diplomatic lilt she likes to pull out of thin air with him when she feels she’s approaching a difficult subject. It instantly puts his nerves on edge, but he tries not to get defensive. If there’s anything he’s learned with her, it’s that he’ll do nothing but regret his knee-jerk reaction to bare his teeth and snarl at the first feeling of danger coming his way. He knows just as well that Nyxia would never put him in danger on purpose.

“I was just wondering if there was anyone you wanted to invite,” She continued, glancing away from him. “I know Rebekah and Elijah will be there, of course, but is there anyone else you want to come?”

He’s quick to respond, barely even thinking about it. “I’ve become familiar enough with your subjects that they’re plenty for me, I think. Especially the women coming from the loophole. I’m looking forward to seeing them,”

Her face softens with an endless fondness he’s not quite sure what to do with. Any time she offers it up to him, he does his best to just hold it gently in between them, like it was a cloud threatening to seep through his fingers and dissipate into nothingness.

“I am as well,” She smiles briefly before her face falls back into a placating look. “But you’re sure you don’t have any friends you might not have thought of? Or any more family? I’m sure you’ve… outlived… most of your ancestors, but perhaps there’s a distant cousin that was never turned? Or your… your parents, perhaps?”

Klaus instantly realizes the true nature of her question, and once again has to fight off the urge to snap at her and make her go away. It’s an easier path to take than explaining just why his parents won’t be in attendance at their wedding or part of their futures at all, and why he wouldn’t want them to in the first place, but he finds himself wanting to try. It’s the least he could do for her.

“No, my– my parents are no longer– an option,” He says carefully, brows furrowing as he revisits centuries-old aches and stabs of pain laced with a childish hurt. “I wouldn’t want them here even if they were.”

Her face twists with concern before she disappears from the side of the shelf, and Klaus’s eyes widen momentarily before he hears the click of her shoes growing closer. She rounds the corner of the bookshelf swiftly, coming to stand before him with a practiced look of understanding on her face meant to convey her state of heeding.

“You know by now that I’m a bastard,” She nods. “Even though my father was already unhappy with how I came about, it worsened when he learned my father was the leader of the werewolf pack in our village. I wasn’t just a bastard, but a monster, then, too. I faced abuse from my father my entire life, and my mother always let it happen, or encouraged it, if only to save herself from facing his wrath for her own mistakes.”

Silently, she reaches out and grabs the book from his hand, setting it flat on the shelf in favor of grabbing his hands in hers.

“When my youngest brother Henrik was killed by the pack my true father was a part of, my mother was overcome with the grief of losing a child and that’s when she turned us. When she made the spell to make us into these undying creatures who survive off of blood. She and Mikael killed us all and we were forced to transition when we woke.”

Squeezing his hands, Nyxia shakes her head. “You don’t have to go on, Klaus.”

He shakes his head, waving off her apology. “It’s alright. I want you to know the truth,” Her already soft face opens more and she takes another minute step towards him, closing the distance between them a bit more. “With everything heightened after my transition, I was so overcome with my anger that I lost control and I– I killed her. I killed my mother.”

“Nik,”

“I regretted it as soon as I did it. And I buried her body where no one would find it, and I told my family that she was killed by our father. Because in my head, she was. She let him abuse me, she let him turn even a fraction of that hatred onto Rebekah and Elijah, and the rest of them, and I– I truly hated her for it. What good of a mother was she if she could just watch that happen to her children?”

He clenches his jaw and tilts his head slightly, biting down the bitterness that still swims in his veins all these years later. “Mikael knew what I did, though. I don’t know how, but he always knew. And I– I don’t know what’s happened to him, I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, like us or something else, but I– I do not want him here. I wouldn’t want him here, no matter the situation. I never want someone like Mikael to find this place, because a single touch from him would destroy it all.”

Nyxia shakes her head immediately, eyes wide and full of something that transcends simple fondness. “He wouldn’t, Niklaus. I wouldn’t let him ruin it. This is my home– this is our home. I won’t let him ruin it for you.”

Klaus wished he could believe her. And he knows she knows that. And he knows they both know it’s truly got nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the fact that his father has ruined his life at every turn since the day he was born. It’s just what he does. He could so easily take this beautiful thing Klaus has been given and tarnish it with a single touch.

“I had to inherit these shadows, you know?” She says suddenly, taking him off guard. “I wasn’t born with them, not really. I was born with power, I was made of this power. But in order to have them at the capacity at which they exist now, I had to wait for my mother to die. She was my best friend. But I think that made it all the worse when I had to watch her wither away through each century, until one day, she became nothing more than the night sky we came from. Afterward, I was so overcome with grief that I didn’t even acknowledge the shadows. I wanted no part of it, not without her,”

She huffs out a small, wry laugh and shakes her head. “But they are very stubborn. They persisted, and one day, they brought me into the shadows and showed me the light that exists within them. And after that day, I started doing things differently. It’s been a long time since then, but I still remember all of those feelings like it was yesterday. And I know that because you have been given the gift and the curse of eternity just as I have, that you understand it like no one else does. So you must believe me when I say this, husband, but it will not be like this forever. And I am making you a promise now that your– that Mikael will not ever make his mark in my kingdom. You and I will live in peace for the rest of our days, with our people and no one can take that from us. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Niklaus?”

He nods, clenching his teeth together as he swallows around the concrete lump in his throat. “Of course. Of course I do,”

“Good,” She nods once. “You can trust me. I swear it on my life.”

He nods again and she offers him a small smile, like she’s wary to shift the graveness that had settled over them into something else. He jostles their conjoined hands, and her eyebrows tick together, silently coaxing his words out.

“How did you do it?” He asks quietly. “How did you find the light when you were surrounded by the darkness?”

Her eyes suddenly burned with ferocity, an ancient thing that had roots buried deep inside of her. A small fraction of her power. “I carved it out of the shadows with my bare hands and I did not stop until my fingers bled. Until my nails were cracked and my body screamed for me to stop. And I would do it again if it meant I kept you and your family safe. Understand that, Klaus. If nothing else, understand that I’ll bleed for you.”

Klaus isn’t sure what to do in the face of her devotion. He feels as if it should be the other way around– him worshiping her, instead of this blood-promise she’s made to him. He isn’t sure what to do or say, but he is sure of one thing; he loves her. And he would bleed for her just as well.

──────

The morning of their wedding, a low hum of activity overtakes the calm of the castle and does not falter, well into the early hours of afternoon. Klaus was summoned from his rooms just minutes after the sun was up and brought to the seamstresses that he’d seen increasingly over the months and put into the intricate suit made specifically for him.

His trousers were plain, simple, and tucked carefully into shoes that almost felt like armor. His surcoat was donned with intricate, weaving lines of gold that gleamed in the sunlight, woven into the fabric like they were the very veins in his body. Like it was a showcase of the life that flowed through him, scorching like the sun for all eternity. When he was draped with a mantle of white fur and more golden details along the draped fabric, he looked in the lone mirror before him and felt, for the first time, that he was truly a king. And just after that thought, he couldn’t help but wonder what his queen looked like.

When he is escorted to the throne room, he can hear the dozens of heartbeats waiting on the other side of the doors before him and he only has a moment to breathe before the doors are swung open and the guests are standing, turning to face him.

His blue eyes immediately shoot to the front of the room, where the king awaits his presence at the end of the aisle, where his brother and sister stand on either side of the large arbor, looking at him with an odd pride gleaming in their eyes.

Bracing himself, he lifts his chin slightly and walks forward, his hands clasped in front of him as he meets the eyes of strangers, all watching him like they’re waiting for him to show his true colors. When he nears the end of the aisle, he looks over to his left and sees Theresé standing there, with a row of familiar faces lined up beside her, and he can’t stop the small twitch of his lips when she meets his gaze head-on with a smile that radiates pure excitement.

He tears his gaze away from the women and children of the loophole and meets the king’s eyes, exchanging a nod with the man as he takes his place at the center of the room. He turns his head towards the doors he’d come through moments ago, and finds himself holding his breath as he waits for them to open once more, and reveal his bride.

He prepares himself for the sight of her, but when the doors swing open, guards standing on either side of her, he thinks himself a fool for ever thinking he’d be prepared for the sight of her dressed in a white gown that trails behind her in a sea of golden embroidery that gleams just as his does. Like the life that burns in him also burns in her, despite the way her shadows carve out the angles of her face, the bridge of her nose.

He knew her dress would compliment him, of course, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much it would take his breath away, to see himself standing before a kingdom, waiting for her slow, graceful steps to come to a stop as she neared him.

Her own fur-lined mantle was just as carefully draped over her, and it went down the length of her train, the fabric moving along with her as if it were just water rippling along rocks. Slow, elegant, natural. Like she was born to be this.

For the first time, her arms are bare before him, and the skin below her jaw is as well. Her unexpected bareness exposes things he hadn’t known were hiding beneath her long sleeves and high collars. The shadows that run in her blood wrap around her arms, weaving like vines up across her chest and down into unknown territory, still hidden from his sight and touch. He swallows roughly at the sight of the image she creates before him, her head tilted back ever so slightly just to maintain his gaze as she steps up before him, her hands immediately reaching to lay in his proffered palms.

He can’t find his voice in time to tell her that she looks beautiful. To make vows to her before they’ve even started.

The king clears his throat quietly, raising his hand in a silent gesture that has the guests taking their seats once more.

“People of Riverend, we gather here to witness the joining of two souls. To celebrate a love that withstands life, death, and everything in between. A love forged in shadows and cradled by the moon, that blossoms beneath the sun. It is my honor to stand before you all and mark the start of our future here in these cherished lands beneath their incoming rule.”

The king shifts, turning slightly to look at Klaus directly. “Lord Mikaelson, repeat after me: I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours, and vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars,”

Klaus swallows and wets his lips, meeting Nyxia’s gleaming eyes. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” His voice trembles slightly, and her fingers press into his wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.”

Nyxia mirrors his swallow, seemingly biting back her own emotion. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” Her pulse stutters beneath his fingertips, and his blood burns with it. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.”

“As witnessed by your people, do you both promise to serve them to the best of your abilities? To bleed with them, or for them, shall it one day be necessary? To feed and clothe them, and wash the dirt off of their feet, should they ever ask you to?”

They both nod once. “We do,”

The King mirrors their nod and continues. “May this marriage be protected by the powers that be. May it never bend or break, or waver in even the strongest of storms. May you both know one another’s love like no other. May the darkness protect you as it has protected others since the dawn of time,”

The king takes in a short breath and shifts, holding his hands up for his palms to face the sunlight gleaming in through the stained glass windows. “By the power entrusted unto me, I bless this marriage for the years to come. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss–”

“Stop this nonsense!”

Gasps echo throughout the throne room and Klaus’s blood freezes as his head snaps over, his gaze locking onto his father’s immediately.

The man at the end of the aisle takes a step forward, a mean smirk on his face. “Is it not utter blasphemy to make a king out of a bastard?”

Klaus breathes out a breath that shudders in his lungs painfully, and he looks past Nyxia to find Rebekah standing frozen in her place, tears bubbling in her eyes at the sight of Mikael. He doesn’t need to look at Elijah to know that the man is likely boiling with barely stifled rage.

Mikael takes another step forward and Klaus flinches back instinctively, despite the distance that stretches between them.

The man laughs at the sight, and Klaus finally looks at Nyxia, only to find her glaring at his father like her very gaze could burn him into ash.

“You have no business being here, Mikael,” Elijah’s voice bites out the words from behind him and he hears his brother take a step down, quick to be a buffer between him and Klaus. “Leave now, and you will not face any consequences.”

Mikael laughs again. “And from whom would these consequences be dealt? You? Or perhaps Rebekah?” The girl flinches, tears skittering down her flushed cheeks at his ridicule. “Certainly not Klaus. He’s not capable of it.”

“It will be me,” Nyxia’s voice rings out, firm and cold in a way that Klaus hasn’t heard it before, not even in their worst moments. “You will not speak of my husband in that manner. I’ll have your head for treason if you’re not careful.”

“You’d take my head for him?” Mikael’s brows raise like he’s actually surprised at the prospect. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but he is nothing. He comes from no high standing, he has no riches and nothing to give you in exchange for all that you give him. Whatever he has told you in those regards is a filthy lie. That’s all he is– a liar.”

Hot tears burn at the back of Klaus’s eyes and he struggles to find his voice again.

Nyxia drops his hands and Klaus fronts at the loss of her touch, only to reach for her as she turns and steps towards Mikael, unwavering beneath his hateful glare. “Don’t,” He gets out, pulling her back by her arm. “Do not go near him.”

She wrenches her arm from his hold, looking at him apologetically before she hardens her gaze once more and faces his father. “You come to my kingdom and interrupt my wedding to spew nonsense. You have the looks of a crazed man, Mikael. I should have my sentries imprison you until I find it worth my time to sentence you.”

He grins like her words are a challenge. “I’d like to see you try, Princess,” He spits her title out and before anyone can blink, he holds the tip of a dagger beneath her chin.

Gasps of fear ring out through the room and Klaus stumbles forward, stopped only by Elijah holding him just out of their father’s reach. “Do not touch her!” He growls out the words, black veins crawling beneath his eyes, earning a mocking chuckle from the man.

“Don’t tell me you actually love her, Niklaus,”

Klaus says nothing, which is answer enough, and it earns another round of derisive laughter from the man.

“What a ridiculous thing, love,” He tsks his tongue, shaking his head as if scolding his bastard son. “Nothing but a weakness to someone like you who is already softened by his childish emotions. It’s nice to know that you’re still such a disappointment, Niklaus.”

Klaus lunges for the man but is once again stopped by his brother.

“Klaus,” It’s Nyxia who says his name, which calms the racing of his heart in his ears, and he looks at her desperately. “Do you trust me?”

His brows furrow deeply, lines twisting onto his pale skin. “What?”

She gives him another look that conveys an apology he doesn’t need, and he feels his stomach swoop with fear.

“Nyx,” He breathes out, eyes wide as he starts to shake his head.

She rolls her eyes away from him like it pains her to do so, and looks to his father, uncaring of the tip of the dagger digging into her chin. “I told you I would bleed for you, Klaus. And I shall.”

She takes one long step forward and latches her hand around the handle of the dagger and digs her nails into Mikael’s skin, earning a grunt of annoyance from the man. In the blink of an eye, a cloud of black consumes them, and the last thing Nyxia hears is Klaus’s yell for her to stop.

Her hold on Mikael falters and they fall away from each other, thrown into shadows and thrown apart in the same breath.

It’s been centuries since she’s been here. Encased in nothingness, something that cannot even be considered night because it is so dark it does nothing but swallow the life that enters it.

She hears Mikael’s breathing through the darkness and hears him struggle to find footing as she does the same.

“You,” She speaks out, voice echoing into the void. Swarming around them like a crow’s call. “You have tarnished his soul. You are the darkness that exists inside of him, and I am going to rip every inch of life out of you even if it kills me.”

“Such meaningful threats,” The man speaks back, voice tinged in that smugness that sets her nerves alight with rage. “To think that you have fallen in love with a man like Niklaus. You could have such potential if you weren’t clinging to frivolous emotions.”

“You underestimate me, Mikael. You mock me, even now, when you are surrounded by something that does not exist without me and my power. It is your arrogance that will kill you, and I will offer your heart on a platter to my husband as a wedding gift.”

She lunges for the sound of him in the void, grunting as they blindly swing for each other, slamming fists and swinging daggers over and over with no sign of stopping.

She doesn’t know how long she was in this place the last time. Doesn’t know how long they’ve been here now. It could be mere seconds, it could be years. Nothing exists in this place, especially not time.

Blood from a cut that is already healed trails down her cheek, she can feel the wetness as she brushes her fingers along her skin. She can hear Mikael’s ragged breaths, her endless onslaught of pain catching up to him.

“He’s an abomination,” Mikael spits out. “Not just in name, but as a creature. It is not enough that he has no soul as this undead thing, but he has that mutt inside of him, waiting to be unleashed. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” She bites back, lips curling in a snarl. “But I do. And he will live with me until the Earth takes its last breath. And you will never take anything from him again, so long as I am at his side. You will never hurt your children again. I am taking back the darkness that is inside of you. I am taking the very air from your lungs,”

She tackles him blindly, knees pinning him down as she presses her hands roughly down onto his chest, her fingertips itching with heat as she does exactly that. “You will know pain like you’ve never known before where you are going. And with everything in me, I swear that I will not let there be a day that goes by that you do not suffer.”

The shadows that warm her skin crawl as she takes his life little by little, and she can feel his breaths begin to shallow with every word she speaks.

“Let your last thought on this Earth be the knowledge that I love your son, Mikael. And not even you can take that from him.”

A scream tears from her throat as she lifts her hands off of his chest and slams them back down, his body disappearing beneath her as if it had never existed. A burst of energy explodes from her and she nearly falls onto her face, catching herself on her hands and knees as it blows around her like a gust of wind.

She grits her teeth, trying to catch her breath as the void grows smaller around her, trying to swallow her whole as it had Mikael. But she had let it have Mikael. She would not let it have her. Not when she had something to go back to. Someone.

“No,” She bites out, jaw clenched tight enough that her bones creak. “You will let me go back.”

She digs her nails into the nothingness beneath her hands, skin scraping off at the fight it puts back. She lifts her hands from the void and brings them back down, clawing at it like a rabid animal.

“Let me out,” She says. Demands. “Let me out!”

Her voice echoes on a yell and she feels a scream build deep in her chest as she clenches her hands into fists and brings them down onto the ground, and she can feel it begin to crack beneath her force.

The ache in her hands grows with each hit but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, not even as the first cracks of light bleed through.

With just that sliver of light, she can see the broken skin of her hands and it’s such a guttural reminder of her past that she raises her hands once more and brings them down onto the shattering void with a strength she did not know she possessed.

All at once she is thrown out of the darkness and she flinches at the burst of brightness that encases her so suddenly. The sound of startled gasps and fearful noises makes her stumble and she tries and subsequently fails to get to her feet, her bloodied hands smearing along the pristine white aisle she had walked down.

Arms encase her and she turns her head to meet Klaus’s gaze as he pulls her into his chest, eyes wide in fear at the sight of her blood, no doubt mixed with some of Mikael’s that likely splattered onto her at some point in their tussle.

“Where did you go? What did you do?” He breathes out, eyes brimming with tears. “Where is Mikael?”

She lets out a shuddering noise as she clings to him, staining his surcoat with blood. “I took it back,” She grits her teeth, fire burning in her eyes for a split second before her exhaustion wipes it out. “I took my darkness back from him, and I turned him into nothing.”

Klaus makes a noise of grief that she knows is not for his father, but for the thought of her doing something he knows weakens her.

“I’m alright,” She assures him, finally looking past him at her kingdom that watches on warily. “I’m alright, I promise.”

Klaus holds onto her tighter like he’s scared she’ll disappear again, and she lets him as exhaustion weighs her down.

She smiles suddenly, breathless and hopeful. “We aren’t finished here,” Her eyes shift to the king, who hurries towards them, kneeling slightly. “We were interrupted.”

Klaus mirrors her smile, much more reserved even as his fear dissolves. “We were, weren’t we?”

“Finish it,” She looks up at the king from her place in Klaus’s lap in the aisle. “Please, finish it.”

The king barely takes a moment before he lets his voice carry like he had before, unwavering as if nothing had happened at all. “Without further ado, Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss your bride.”

Klaus barely lets him finish speaking before he kisses her, stealing the breath from her lungs as she gasps into it. Starlight burns in her and she raises her hand to gently cup his cheek, pulling him into her for one hard press of their lips before she pulls away, letting her hand fall from his cheek to rest against his heart.

She turns her face into his neck and whispers into his skin, her breath making goosebumps grow in its wake. “My name,” She says. “I want you to have it.”

He echoes it back to her softly, like he’s cradling it in his hands, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes.

The king speaks from above them, an excitement laced in his voice as he lifts his hands above his hand. “It is my honor to introduce to you for the first time, the Prince and Princess of Riverend!”

Cheers burst around them, and Klaus dips his head down to hide his smile in her hair, and she clings to him just a bit tighter, her eyes fluttering.

“Let us celebrate!” The king exclaims, another round of cheers echoing after his words.

She pulls back slightly to look at Klaus, smiling. “I love you, Klaus,”

He lets out a breath like she’s knocked it out of him. “I love you,” He hesitates before saying her name like he’s worried she’ll take it back from him. “I'll love you until the end of time. Never doubt that."

"I won't."

#klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson

285 notes · View notes