#nyx is screaming somewhere in here

[danikamariewrites]

Watch Your Step

Feysand x reader

A/n: happy day 2 and another Feysand fic! Comfort fics are some of my favorites especially for Rhys. Some of my favorite moments with him and Feyre are in ACOWAR and he’s just doting on her. @polyacotarweek

Warnings: descriptions on injuries and comfort

“Nyx, slow down!” You yelled over the little boy's screeches and giggles as he ran through the upstairs hall. You held your dress above your calves, feet carrying you quickly.

You jumped toys littered across the carpet. Sighing mentally you make a note to have the boy clean up his toys. “Bet ya can’t catch me mom!” He giggled, disappearing around the corner. “No running on the stairs young man!” He giggled again as you heard the sound of winnowing. You came to a halt. The three of you knew Nyx’s powers were developing. He could finally hide his wings on command like Rhys. But winnowing was very new.

The first time he winnowed he had taken Rhys with him. Ending up outside the Winter Court palace wanting to see his friend, the Princess of Winter. To know he could winnow so far at such a young age was impressive but terrifying.

Your thoughts raced you began sprinting for the stairs. Praying to the Cauldron your little boy was only downstairs and not somewhere unknown.

Not keeping your eyes on the ground you completely missed the pair of toy swords in a small wagon on the first step. Your bare foot landed right on the center of the wooden toys, splintering them in half. Not even getting a chance to right yourself your other foot stays suspended in midair as the wagon moves across the stair.

Your ankle turns and you feel something pop. Falling down the stairs backwards you let out a scream. You try to grab hold of the banister to slow down, your fingers screaming in protest. You hit the curved landing hard. Rolling to a stop thanks to the wall.

Thanks to the pain numbing your body and ringing ears you didn’t hear Nyx scream for you. Or the multiple pairs of feet thundering to get to you as quickly as possible.

Groaning, you roll over onto your back, trying to keep your breathing steady. You keep your eyes screwed shut at the pain still coursing through your bones.

Nyx was now sitting next to you. A little hand on your face to comfort you. “Like mommy and daddy do for you,” he said once.

“I’m ok buddy, I’m ok.” You manage through gritted teeth. Opening your eyes you smile up at him. Panic on his little features. “See, mom’s ok. Just a little fall.”

Nesta and Azriel are first to arrive, Rhys and Feyre looking destressed right behind them. Nesta quickly gathers Nyx in her arms much to the boys dismay. He starts fidgeting wildly in his aunts arms fighting to get back to you.

Before he can be told to Az winnows away to get Madja. Rhys scoops you into his arms making his way to the bedroom quickly. Feyre prepares you a spot, fluffing your pillow as Rhys set you down gently.

“Questions later. I don’t want stress her out and add to her pain.” Rhys says into Feyre’s mind. He looks back at his mate to see silver lining her eyes. Her hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “It’s ok angel, we’re here.” Feyre whispered softly. You squeezed her hand in response. The both of them could feel your pain through the bond and it was breaking their hearts.

Madja came bustling in as quickly as possible leaving Azriel to linger in the doorway. The old healer shoos your mates away, “I can’t work with you two breathing down my neck. Go with the Shadowsinger. I’ll come get you once she’s patched up.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. They’re hesitant to leave you but know it’s for the best.

An hour later Madja had left you with your ankle wrapped and strict bed rest orders which Feyre and Rhys took very seriously. For the next week your mates kept a close eye on you, not letting you move an inch.

“I still think you should keep your ankle elevated, my love.” Feyre sweetly chastises you a few days later. You roll your eyes as she puts the lunch tray down to fluff the throw pillow you abandoned a half hour ago.

“I’m fine, Fey. Besides, it’s practically healed.” She hummed, raising a brow at you, gently placing your foot on the pillow. “You want to tell Rhys that?” You sigh, dropping your head against the headboard.

Rhys has been worse than normal. Maybe because it was the worst at home injury any of you had sustained. He wouldn’t even let you sleep in the middle of the bed like usual. Rhys insisted you take his side while he slept in the middle so it would be easier to carry you out of bed.

Feyre placed the tray on your lap as she settled next to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your delicately pointed ear. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“Better. The pain in my side is gone and my head is fine, the only problem is the pain in my ankle.” Feyre hums looking back at your bandaged ankle. You start to pick at your food when you notice a card under the plate. Picking it up you smile. Nyx had drawn you many get well soon cards over the last few days. “Good.”

In the middle of your meal and chat with Feyre, Rhys made his way into the bedroom taking the other spot next to you in bed. He takes your chin gently in his fingers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As if he was afraid of causing you more pain. “Hi angel, how are you feeling?” You smile against his lips, “Good.” He lets out a content hum leaning away from you.

As the week went on your mates let up on their hovering. When the bandage came off Rhys would massage your ankle every night, rubbing a special salve Madja gave you. While their overbearing nature at times can be aggravating, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’d never stop being thankful to have mates and a family that cares so much about you.

[yazthebookish]

Chapter 21

“One after another, I hunted monsters—the remaining pets of the Daglan—until many of the lowest rooms were filled with them. Until my once-beautiful home became a prison. Until even the land was so disgusted by the evil I’d gathered here that the islands shriveled and the earth became barren. The winged horses who hadn’t gone with my mother to Midgard, who had once flown in the skies, playing in the surf … they were nearly gone. Not a single living soul remained, except for the monstrosities in the mountain.”

So she was the one who contained Koschei and the Weaver, and she was the Bone Carver's salvation.

“I will spare you the details of how I came to wed a High Lord’s son. Of the years before and after he became the High Lord of Night, and I his lady. He wanted me to be High Lady, as the other lords’ mates were, but I refused. I had seen what power had done to my mother, and I wanted none of it.

Yet when my first son was born, when the babe screamed and the sound was full of night, I brought him to the Prison and keyed the wards into his blood. No one knew that the infant who sometimes glowed with starlight had inherited it from me. That it was the light of the evening star. The dusk star.”

Silene 👏🏼 Theia's 👏🏼 Second 👏🏼 Daughter 👏🏼 Is 👏🏼 Rhysand's 👏🏼 Ancestor 👏🏼 Confirmed 👏🏼 his 👏🏼 bloodline 👏🏼 hails 👏🏼 from 👏🏼 High 👏🏼 King 👏🏼 Fionn 👏🏼 of 👏🏼 Prythian

I assumed her name was Nyx (as in the Night Goddess Rhys mentioned) but Silene is also close enough to symbolize night/the moon.

Nesta murmured to Azriel, “Does Rhys … does he know?”

“No,” Azriel replied without an ounce of doubt. “Somewhere along the line … all this was forgotten, and never passed on.”

[dark-elf-writes]

Here's an AU idea-

Tsuna but Chaos from Hades just took one look at him, freshly Sealed but definitely a magnet for their namesake, and went "Mine now."

Screaming at this.

Chaos who has had many children over the years, both ones they have borne or sired and those that they have taken in when others proved incapable of caring for them, but has grown… listless as of late. The children of Hades are a pleasant distraction and they are in a way children of their line but… they yearn for what they have not had for millennia. They yearn for change in a life that has somehow become so routine.

It leads them to the surface for the first time since time began. Or perhaps the first time in mere heartbeats. It’s is difficult to tell removed form time as they were. They lived in every moment. They stood apart. They simply were.

But they are on the surface now and there is a little child with burning eyes locked behind a thin cage looking up at them with wonder and rage strong enough to understand universes crashes down other for a moment.

To chain a child. To lock them away. To harm them. Once it wouldn’t have upset them as much as it does now. Before a fire stepping prince and his dour sister dashed into their life. Before they learned to reach out to their daughter and her progeny. Before.

(They could see through time the man this child would become. The leader. The conqueror. They could see also the man that would mold him. Their one devotee. The only one to whisper their name as a blessing to a curse. The one with a curse of his own that would be broken by the little thing still looking up at him.

Webs upon webs.

Delightfully complex.

Hades’ son would be delighted with this, they think. They wonder why it matters to them.)

“Are you lost child?” They ask. It aches to limit their voice to just one rather than the many they are, but for the sake of something new something interesting they can withstand the discomfort. The pain in and of itself is something to be savored after so long without. A change. A new branch.

Chaos.

The child blinks at them, then his face crumbles. For one hysterical moment they think of the fire stepping princess shattering under the burden laid upon her shoulders. They didn’t know how to comfort her either. Didn’t particularly want to at the time. (Wanted to later? Before? During? Time, blast him, escaped them as always.)

They rest a hand in the child’s head, lightly. So lightly even in this form that is so small compared to the truth of them.

“I’m cold.” The child cries, oblivious to their struggle. “I’m so cold.”

It has been too long since they have raised a child.

It will be too long before they do so again.

The hair, long and silver and so similar to so many of Nyx’s children. They chose it because they found it pleasing. (They chose it because it reminded them of their bloodline) Chaos use’s the sleeve of the suite they had made for themself to wipe away the child’s tears. “I can help you get warm, little one.”

Somewhere, they were certain their granddaughters were laughing.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Beautiful Blood -- Sadistic Vampire Whumper Keeping Human Pets part 9

TW: violence, blood, intimate Vampire whump, death, forced servitude

Asher's terrified silence was answer enough, and the man's smile broadened as he put a hand on the wall next to his head, caging him into the corner.

"I've heard so much about you," he drawled, and lazily ran a finger over the human boy's shoulder, grinning playfully at the way Asher shuddered under his touch.

"It's a pity Nyx hasn't let anyone near you yet," he mused. "You would be the center of attention at a party like this. It must be pure luck for me to find you alone here..." the vampire's head tilted to the side as he trailed off suggestively.

"I'm Kaden, by the way. It's truly a pleasure to meet you..." He leaned his head down to the side of Asher's neck, toying with him and chuckling at the way he flinched. Kaden's breath was hot against his skin, and Asher shivered at the light scrape of fangs above his carotid artery. He couldn't help his eyes flicking over Kaden's shoulder to Callum's barely stirring figure, dread and terror twisting his stomach as he realized he could join him soon.

Asher's legs felt like they might buckle under him at any second with fear, his whole body trembling violently. "P-Please--D-Don't--" his voice came out in a shallow rasp of air, his chest tight. Time seemed to stop; the menacing aura radiating off Kaden was withering, overwhelming. He was death made flesh.

Asher's breath hitched, and he scrunched his eyes shut in anticipation, awaiting the blasting pain, the feeling of his own throat being ripped out by a stranger.

"Don't... what?" Kaden whispered teasingly in his ear. "Go on, finish that sentence. I'll give you a minute to talk me out of sampling your blood, just for the fun of it."

Asher was pretty sure he'd do it anyway, but he desperately needed to buy himself time. Surely Nyx would arrive any second now to save him, even if he hated her.

"D-Don't.... F-Feed on me... please..." He stammered hopelessly.

Kaden smirked. "That wasn't very convincing." There was another scrape of fangs against Asher's neck -- before the sharp pain hit as Kaden roughly bit down.

Asher couldn't help the cry of agony that tore loose from him at the intensity of it, a far worse experience than even Nyx. His breathing became shallow and ragged as Kaden pressed into him, a wave of dizzying nausea overcoming him.

Kaden growled hungrily, drinking more with each passing second. Asher's unique blood was like a drug to him, intoxicatingly sweet, satisfying something deep inside that normal human blood could never fully sate.

Asher fumbled to push the vampire away, find some opening to escape, but his strength was starting to fail him, and Kaden was just... too... strong.

The world was a blur of pain, and he was only distantly aware of shouting coming from somewhere close by, a heartbeat before the fangs were ripped painfully from his neck. There was screaming -- but it wasn't coming from him.

Asher slid down along the wall to the floor, panting and in shock, as the world came back into focus. He saw Nyx with her teeth buried deep into Kaden's shoulder as she roughly wrenched him away from him, even as the other vampire shrieked in agony.

Kaden struggled and thrashed, his screams splitting the air, but Nyx only sank her fangs deeper with an angry growl, before whirling around and slamming him into the wall behind her with enough force to break bones, finally releasing him as he fell to the floor with a groan.

"How DARE you attack my servants!" She roared with fury, and drove her foot into Kaden's gut, making him curl in on himself with a gasp as her foot connected with his ribs. Then she leaned down and grabbed him by the hair, yanking him to his feet with his head wrenched painfully far back, as she forced him to look at her.

"Unforgivable," she snarled into his face, her eyes blazing with rage. Then she viciously sank her fangs into Kaden's jugular, choking off more screams. She pulled her fangs back out a second later, and Kaden went down gurgling, writhing and twitching weakly as he bled out on the fancy marbled floor.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

[melanie-ohara]

Whumpuary2024 Masterpost

As well as every story I've written this month I also want to include some Fun Stats! about my experience of the challenge, as well as a playlist of all the songs I used lyrics from in my titles. Here we go:

The stats:

Words written: 53,034 (!!!!!)

Stories released: 17

Longest story: Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful, 4,165 words, Mass Effect Andromeda

Shortest story: Like a Mouthful of Rain, 963 words, Original Work

Favourite story: Do You Want Me On Your Mind? 2,950 words, Baldur's Gate 3

Chocolate bars consumed: 20

Times cried while writing: four

Main prompts used: 27

Alt prompts used: 3

The stories:

These are all available on tumblr too, but for expedience and convenience these are all AO3 links. I'm also listing the song I used for the title, which wasn't something I was doing intentionally until the third story, at which point I figured it was better to lean into it and find songs that work for the characters I'm writing about rather than straining my poor brain to think of an original title.

Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful

Mass Effect Andromeda, Sara Ryder/Vetra Nyx

Prompts: Snow, Captivity

Title stolen from Let It Snow by Ella Fitzgerald

My Heart Was Wired in Thorns

Baldur's Gate 3, Dark Urge (Sithla) & Wyll, Dark Urge & Lae'zel

Prompts: "Get away from me", Choking

Title stolen from Circus Bazooko by BRMC

In The Woods Somewhere and Take Yourself Apart For Me

Star Wars Ahsoka, Wolfwren (Sabine and Shin)

Prompts: Stabbed, Used as Bait, Lightheaded, "Help me"

Titles stolen from In The Woods Somewhere by Hozier and Haunt by BRMC

Hollow Yourself in the Mercy of Man

Original Work - Sci-fi

Prompt: Can't Move

Title stolen from Mercy of Man by Robert Levon Been ft. S.G. Goodman

Like a Mouthful of Rain

Original Work - Medieval

Prompt: Kidnapped

This one was hard to write. The previous day's story was such a failure in my eyes that I scrapped the planned second chapter and almost didn't write anything at all, until I threw this together at the last minute. I liked it quite a lot, in the end.

Title stolen from Revolver by Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan

Alive, Just to Watch the Bruises Heal

Mass Effect, Shepard/Thane Krios

Prompts: Exhaustion, Old Injuries

This one got pretty dark, but it's something I've been thinking about for literally years. I'm not the first person to justify the ME1 scars not being in ME2, but I might be the first person to think about Shepard putting them back.

Title stolen from Bruises by Band of Skulls

I'm Not Here Looking For Absolution

Star Wars, Nitearmor (Bo Katan/The Armorer)

Prompts: "I didn't know where else to go", Bruises

It is genuinely surprising to me that this is the only smut I wrote for this month

Title stolen from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine

Like a Broken Sail

Dishonored, Billie Lurk

Prompts: Hostage, Muffled Screams

I really liked this one because I got to subvert the second prompt a little. I was looking forward to it for days before I got to write it

Title stolen from Future Starts Slow by The Kills

The Working of My Hands

Baldur's Gate 3, Tav (Emily of Rivington)/Lae'zel

Prompts: "Do you trust me?", Restraints

Title stolen from De Selby, Part 2 by Hozier

No Hope For Me, Your Last Serving Daughter

Original Work - Etagne Empire

Prompts: Desperation, Can't Stay Awake

This is a story about a character from my work-in-progress book, MYSTERIES IN THE LAND OF ICE.

Title stolen from Hope In The Air by Laura Marling

Do You Want Me On Your Mind?

Baldur's Gate 3, Nocturne/Shadowheart, Tav (Mellephora)/Shadowheart

Prompts: Memories, Forced to Watch

Another prompt I had fun subverting

Title stolen from Fuel to Fire by Agnes Obel

Rulers Make Bad Lovers

Dishonored, Emily Kaldwin/Wyman/Alexi Mayhew

Prompts: "You're awake", Unfair Fight

Title stolen from Gold Dust Woman by Copilot Music + Sound (originally by Fleetwood Mac)

See How Deep the Bullet Lies

Mass Effect, Shiara (Shepard/Liara)

Prompts: Left to Die, "I'm fine"

Title stolen from Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

I'll Be Your All For Now

Dishonored, Cecelia/Callista

Prompts: Sleep Deprivation, "Let me see"

These two are my number one rarepair, I love them

Title stolen from Echo by BRMC

Can't Touch You Now and A Soft Caress, As Cold As Death

Baldur's Gate 3, Tav (Calarisa)/Karlach

Prompts: Touch-starved, Aftermath

Titles stolen from Because the Night by Garbage & Screaming Females (originally by Patti Smith), and I Want to Live by Borislav Slavov ft. Ilona Ivanova

The songs I stole lyrics from

Here is a spotify playlist of all the music I used, most of which fit the stories or characters in them. They do not flow into each other at all and there's an over-abundance of BRMC (they're my favourite band, shoot me), but these are all songs I really love. Apart from Let it Snow. That's there because I didn't plan any of this.

Final thoughts

Whumpuary2024 is the first month-long challenge I've undertaken, and it was extremely hard and really rewarding. I aimed to average a thousand words a day and blew clear past that most days, and a few times I barely stumbled across the line as beaten and bloodied as the people I was writing about. I'm incredibly glad I did it and I will probably try again next year (though maybe not a prompt a day next time!). Thank you @whumpuary for the fun event and for randomly crossing my dash at a moment when I was feeling creative enough to sign myself up

If anyone made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope you like the stories. It's not a secret that I'm adding a secret 18th story as a follow up to the Wolfwren series, but this is your special confirmation that it'll be out February the first and second

[signoraviolettavalery]

So with help from @nyx-aira and @touchyourblood (this is truly becoming a collaboration, bits of the following are taken from their posts/messages) and also some alcohol I wrote a bit more of the vampire!Bojan AU in which Jan has been married before (I truly don't have the energy to type out the backstory here please go find one of the earlier posts I beg of you)

Please please heed the trigger warnings of (previous, flashbacks to) noncon and spousal abuse, this ain't fluff and most of it ain't happy

the horror he must feel once he puts on his wedding dress again. The constricting feeling of the lace tight around his throat, fabric heavy. He once heard the whisper the reason wedding dresses were so heavy, was that the brides weren't able to escape. Navigating endless woods in layers and layers of tulle and lace was simply impossible. Another prison that kept him chained to his legacy, his husband.

He fiddles with the sleeves, studying the intricate lace pattern that would be absolutely beautiful if it wasn't something that was designed to keep him in place, keep him obedient. The way his skin still stung from the way they scrubbed his body so that no trace of another man can be found on your skin and you don't want him to be angry with you the first night you meet, darling, so stay still.

There was no use of struggling, he knew that. Tried it all before. If he were to run they would catch him. If he were to scream they would silence him. If he threatened to disobey any further...well...he still carried the scars from that. So he sat still, sat still as the finished dressing him and he awaited his dreaded fate.

Once again nothing but a bargaining chip, there to obey the every command of yet another monster.

[the wedding night]

He sits on his bed – the bed that will become his marriage bed, their marriage bed. Tucks his legs up into the endless folds of the dress. Some of his hair has come loose from the bun that he dares not undo – his husband might wish to pull the tie from his hair, to make his hair cascade down his shoulders and pull it. And though he tries to hold them in, tears brim in his eyes and streak down his cheeks.

Before he knows it, he’s shaking with sobs. He can’t survive another wedding night like the first, he simply can’t. He still remembers it vividly, though sometimes he wishes he could forget. . He’d been dizzy from losing so much blood at the ceremony, and Gaspar had carried him to the bed, bridal-style, and deposited him onto it. Head spinning, he’d moved to sit up, only to hear his husband’s anger-laced voice asking him where he was going.

“I didn’t know how you wished me, my lord,” he responded, as deferentially as he could.

“I wish you to stay still.”

Jan obeys as he’s unceremoniously flipped over, the folds and pleats of his dress hiked up his legs and –

No. Not like this.

The words slip out. “No. Please.” Which leads his husband – his husband – to grab him by the hair until his back arches and growl into his ear “You’re mine. I will do with you as I please.”

Jan has no words for that. What can he say? His husband is right. Jan is his.

The only kindness he receives is some preparation, and he knows he should be grateful for it. It hurts still, but it is not the pain that brings tears to his eyes, but the violation. But what violation? Jan had taken his vows, had offered his blood, had handed over the ownership of his body. What was there to violate?

He whimpers, then outright sobs, unable to hold it in, and his husband moans in pleasure. Understanding strikes him then. It is not this act itself that brings him pleasure so much as Jan’s sobs. Jan’s pain. And the small, rebellious part of him that still exists somewhere, deep down, where it has not yet been entirely worn away by discipline and punishment, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he cannot stop himself from weeping at the knowledge that he is chained for life to a man who takes pleasure in his pain. Who finds climax in the sobs spilling from his shaking body.

He'd spent the rest of that night awake, curled up, shaking and weeping in the tatters of his dress, too numb to even take it off though it was yet another reminder of his violation.

He knows better than to go down the path of that memory, has learned that through hard practice, but tonight it is vivid on the inside of his eyelids, so vivid that he barely hears his husband’s – his new husband’s – knock on the door, followed by soft steps.

He rushes to wipe his tears, straighten up and greet him with the deference he deserves. “My lord,” he says, and hopes his voice does not shake too much.

His husband – Lord Bojan – is beside him in an instant, sitting on the bed.

“Jan.” He says his name so gently. “What is it?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, I’m sorry.” The sobs come again, deep and pathetic. “I will be the perfect husband, I’ll do everything you say, I swear, but please don’t hurt me tonight. Please.” He must be truly going mad, because begging had never worked with Lord Gaspar; it had only encouraged him. But he can’t, he simply cannot.

“I’m not going to hurt you at all. Not tonight, or tomorrow, or ever,” Bojan says.

Jan doesn’t believe him, of course. Not the tomorrow, and certainly not the ever, but if that buys him tonight he will take the bargain.

Bojan reaches for his hand. "I know these aren't ideal circumstances. This was rushed and you weren't expecting it. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but I'd like to do what i can to make this as painless - as easy as possible.”

Jan nods numbly. These are words, so many words, and he wishes Bojan would just get this over with, because the wait is agony.

[idk if he feeds or not we are IN DISCUSSIONS about this]

“You look exhausted, and like that dress is stifling you. Let’s get you out of it.”

Dread floods him along with relief. He wants to claw these layers of lace off, rend the hummingbirds to shreds, but what comes next… he’s not sure he can stomach it even if Bojan is gentle. But it will be Bojan clawing the dress off, ripping apart all those hours of work, destroyed in moments, because that is what vampires do, they take humans and they shred and they rip apart for their pleasure, and by the end of the night Jan will feel like the dress, on the floor in pieces.

So it shocks him when Bojan asks instead, “Shall I call a servant to help?”

“No,” Jan breathes. “Please don’t, my lord,” he remembers to add.

And Bojan must understand his fear. These alliances are precarious, built and sustained on reputation and rumor as much as ink and blood. If they call a servant, everyone will know. That Jan failed in his duty. That Bojan didn't take (rip) his dress off and take what was his. He's already damaged goods, another vampire's leftovers. Lord Bojan had been generous to take him at all. And to have everyone think and whisper that it got to the wedding night and Bojan hadn’t touched him? It cannot be permitted.

"Shall I do it then?" Bojan asks. Jan nods. He stands, waits to hear the tearing of all that fine lace.

But Bojan turns him around and – begins to undo the buttons, one by one. There must be two dozen, and he could easily tear them off, shred the little loos, but he’s slow and careful. "It's a beautiful dress," he remarks. "It's unfortunate I had to damage it."

And then, buttons undone, the dress slips off his shoulders, though the sleeves still cling to his arms, it's tight enough that it doesn't just slip off. Maybe there's a bruise or a cut somewhere on his back that hasn't quite healed - hunters heal fast, but this is the most recent, his husband had been particularly brutal their last night together, and it's still there. There was nothing they could do about it, they couldn't push the wedding back any further. And Jan knows Bojan sees it, another vampire's mark on his property, but Bojan says nothing about it.

He turns back around, and it takes all his strength to say “how do you want me, my lord?”

Bojan blinks at him. The silence that stretches between them in the next moment is taut as a wire, and then something shifts in Bojan’s face, his features molding into something that resembles devastation, and Jan’s heart skips a beat. Has he offended already?

But Bojan merely shakes his head. “I don’t expect that from you,” he says softly, sending Jan’s thoughts spinning in a thousand directions. “Rest now. We’ll speak more tomorrow.”

As he tosses and turns that night, he feels alone, and terrified, and so so confused.

What did he do that Bojan is reacting this way? Did he do something wrong already? Is he only acting so kind because he's waiting for the right time to strike, to take, to claim?

When he finally escapes his thoughts, the endless circle of a voice asking what did I do wrong, why me, do I deserve this, the sun is already creeping over the horizon. He shouldn't be awake at this time. He should be sleeping or be unconscious. It's his wedding night and he spent it sleeping, sleeping alone in his own bed. And now ...now he doesn't know what to do.

As a dutiful husband he should arrange his sleeping schedule how his husband desires him to. Usually that means being awake at night, there to do every bidding, always present, never far.

But this...this is new.

Jan honestly doesn't recall the last time he spent more than a couple hours awake after sunrise. Stepping towards the window he sits on the windowsill, the cold seeping through the glass and making him shiver in the short nightdress he was wearing. Seductive, flimsy yet elegant and easy access.

He watched with awe as birds flew by, fighting in the air and flying up and down, free to do whatever they liked. The sun made the castle grounds glow in a light he hadn't seen in a long time, casting gorgeous shadows and painting the sky a beautiful picture.

Suddenly something wet fell onto his hand. Reaching up to his face he realises he was crying. Crying over a goddamm sunrise. The last sunrise he might experience for a while...

...or forever.

There’s a soft knock on his door. “Enter!” he calls, and startles when it is Bojan that enters. His husband hardly needs his permission.

“My lord,” he breathes in surprise. “I did not think you would be awake so early.”

Bojan smiles. “Not very vampire-like of me, is it?” He shrugs. “I need less sleep than a human, and the morning hours are so lovely. “Did you rest well?”

Jan nods. “yes, thank you, my lord.”

Bojan smiles. “Just Bojan. There’s no need to stand on ceremony.”

“I’m …unpracticed with such familiarity, my lord,” Jan admits.

“Well, I hope you will practice it.”

Jan nods obediently.

“If you are awake…perhaps I might join you for breakfast?” And Jan can hardly refuse him, and so watches as Bojan calls a servant and orders coffee and a full breakfast spread.

“Nothing like coffee in the morning,” Bojan says, to Jan’s surprise taking a sip of coffee that, in Jan’s opinion, has the consistency of lava. He had never seen Lord Gaspar partake of human food. He had preferred either Jan’s blood or his pain. Then, noting Jan’s surprise, he adds “I have no need of human food, but I couldn’t give up coffee. Though it has no effect on me, but the taste, the memories of mornings with friends…” he trails off.

Jan assumes he refers to human friends, long gone now given Bojan’s age, but he dares not ask. He quietly sips his own coffee and butters a croissant as delicately as he can.

“After last night, I wanted to talk.”

Jan’s knife freezes halfway to the butter. “My lord?” he says.

“I want you to know that meant what I said last night. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I know we have a reputation, and it is often well-deserved, but I am not the kind of man – not the kind of vampire – who takes pleasure in inflicting pain.”

And that, at least, is a relief. Not that he thinks there will be no punishments in his future. Lord Bojan may dislike inflicting pain, but he may decide Jan requires discipline; may dole out a punishment even if he takes no pleasure in it. But at least – and Jan wants to believe this is true – Bojan will not bloody him for the mere thrill of it. Lord Gaspar had revealed his sadism the second they’d made their vows, but so far Jan has seen no glint of it in Bojan’s eyes. Perhaps he can dare to hope.

He is well-practiced with the words he must offer now. “Thank you, my lord. You are merciful,” he says, for he has learned that sometimes a husband will be merciful if Jan tells him he is.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

A Slip Through Worlds

(A horror crossover between canon and @idiotwithanipad 's Gore Au. Set a few months after A New Day)

"Silver...Oh, Silver..."

The hairs on the back of her neck rose up. That voice. It couldn't be...

"There you are, darling girl. Come to me now. Come to Mummy..."

Crackling sounds of burning timber picked up her ears. She turned, slowly, the roaming emerald fields and far off mountains fading as she faced a wall of rising smoke.

What in the name of Nyx...?

Witchcraft always came with risk.

Usually for Silver, that had meant trying hard not to burn down her bedroom with a simple candle spell. Or spilling too much incense ash on the floor. All the stuff about accidentally summoning demons or twisting reality always seemed a little too farfetched and way beyond her abilities to care about.

Her books had often talked about lucid dreaming and astral projection. There had been vague warnings about travelling too deep into your own, or even someone else's, subconscious. Discovering secrets best left buried or made worse by being resurrected. There were even tales of souls accidentally being swapped between bodies that lead to what appeared to seem like BDP or schizophrenia.

Maybe she should have taken them more seriously.

But after her regular meetings with her ascended friend on the astral plane, she began to experiment more. She dared to step out of the childhood bedroom she'd been able to conjure up. Before, for her month long slumbers, she'd allowed the dreams to lead her and she'd happily gone along, a protagonist in her own fairy tale land but with restricted agency. Always kept safe within the boundaries.

But if she was able to meet with a soul from the next layer...what else lay out there?

One time, just once, after Amy had left to go visit her dad's dreams, Silver dared to venture towards the shadows of her mind.

Calling to her.

Only her ghost form was trapped in the grounds of Button House. But her mind was free. Free to roam. Free to fly.

Free to fall.

She wandered too far from her beautiful Land of Yonder with its wacky residents, sarcastic talking sticks and useless but sweet Elders. The shadows began to sing. They reached for her, with promises of magic and power and...

Mary.

She saw her mum. Just for a second. Somewhere beyond the border. How was that possible? Wouldn't Amy had said if Mary was trying to reach her, if there was a way for them to be together?

"I is here, darling girl. Mummy is right here." The voice crooned.

Raspy. Sore. As if the vocal chords had been scorched and her tongue cooked to a forked crisp.

But it was Mary. No doubt.

"Come to Mummy, little'en. Mummy will catch you."

In her dazed and dreaming state, she didn't question the disturbing undertone, or even the way Mary sounded more...patronising than usual. She had always been adoringly coddling, but...not to the point of talking to Silver like she was five.

It didn't matter. Her silhouette glowed, surrounded by embers. Silver felt her heart be tugged towards it as if caught by a fishing lure.

"I'm coming. Mum....I'm coming!" She rushed towards the rising black clouds.

Arms stretched towards her, wreathed in thick smoke.

"Good girl. That be the way. You's almost there. Come to Mummy."

Tears fled Silver's eyes as she ran headlong into the pair of open arms.

Mary. Mary had found her. Mary was taking her...

Down.

What?

The arms that encircled her were not warm and sturdy like the ones who had hugged her so many times. They were strong, firm as iron, but thin and hard as...bare bones. Skeletal fingers coursed through her hair. They were falling, as if tumbling over the edge of the world. Down. Down. Down.

Silver screamed. Vertigo in dreams was nothing new but it never went on for this long. And often she would awake with a jolt upon her flowery bed.

The arms of "Mary" held her tight.

"Shhh, hush now, my little bird. We be almost home. You did somehow get lost but Mummy found you. When you wake, all shall be rights as rain, I promise." She whispered, still holding the same love in her voice that Silver knew and wanted to cleave to but...

This was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Her stomach was lurching and she wanted to finally puke up the Veggie Burger she'd consumed before her death. This must be what skydiving is like without a parachute. Not a fan. No thanks.

Wake up now, please, wake up, wake up-

Silver opens her eyes. She gasps.

The woods surround her. Her woods. Exhaling, she relaxes. Just a dream. Good. Just one intense dream probably made a little more visceral after her and Amy experimenting with their newfound gifts. Nothing to worry about-

Bony hands patted her hair.

"Here we are, my little'en. We is home. Safes and sound."

She turned her eyes to...

Oh fuck. Oh sweet Hecate, what...?!

"Mary?!" She gasped at the horrifying wraith knelt beside her, "Is that you?!"

The burned skull with its bulbous eyes and blistering remaining flesh tilted to one side.

"Mary? Since when do you call me by that name, my love, I has never..."

It was her. Silver recognised the fades fabric of her dress. The inflections of her West Country accent.

It was Mary. But wrong.

Mary burned to a husk, a skeleton held together by whisps of dark magic. Mary whose lidless eyes flashed with orange irses like burning embers. This...This is what Mary had truly looked like at the moment of her death. Silver covered her mouth.

This had to still be a dream. A nightmare. Even if she could believe she'd travelled to the next layer, why would Mary look like this?

The wraith took her hand away. Her 'smile', as much as she could have one without lips, disappeared.

She rose to her feet, towering over Silver.

"You is not my daughter."

The words turned Silver's heart to ice.

"I...Y-yes, I am. Mary, I am..." She pleaded, daring to reach and touch the frayed remains of her dress; "A-Alison got the adoption papers sorted so it's official. Th-that's what you wanted right? A-Amy said-?"

"STOP YE CHATTERING, GIRL!"

A tendril of smoke whipped around Silver's neck and held her up to Mary's eye level. At the height difference, Silver began to choke, boots kicking inches from the dirt.

The smoke tugged her closer, the skull of the ghost before her sneering inches from her face.

"Cease withs the charade. You be no child of mine." Mary glowers; "I know of no Alison. And I know of one Amy and she hath no voice to speaks."

What?!

Mary's bony hand reached up to grip Silver's chin.

"My darling girl hath no working eyes to see my true form. My darling girl bleeds constantly from her earses and nostrils while thous remain whole." She seethes, running a finger across the Pagan's cheek; "I see you for what you truly be. A Changeling."

"I...What are you talking about?" Silver rasped, struggling to speak as the smoky limb tightened, "I...I am Silver. I am."

"You is naught but a poor imitation. My daughter would not recoils from her mummy, even if she could see me."

She cringed; "I...I'm sorry, Mary, it was just the shock, I-."

"SILENCE!"

She threw the girl to the dirt. Silver hit the forest floor with a thud, palms scraping briefly against the broken twigs on the ground.

"You wilst tell me what you has done with my daughter. Or I shall rip the knowledge from thy head like gizzards from a goose!" The vengeful woman threatened.

Silver turned to look up at her. Never before did she think it was possible for Mary - sweet, often timid but occasionally righteous Mary - to appear like something out of a horror film. The teen's heart pounded as she watched the ghost's bony fingers curl, summoning balls of flame above her palms.

"Or perhaps I should hath better results burning the truth out of thee? T'was certainly a preferred method of interrogation back in my day." She hissed, showing all of those blackened teeth.

Newly revealed truths repeated in her head.

Why she try to burn you?

Was this the definitive proof that Mary was capable of such a thing? Was this how she'd appeared in those moments while Silver slept, as she awakened her powers, right before she was stopped...

"Please! Please don't hurt me! I am Silver, I swear!"

"I do nots believe you." Mary snarled, "However....perhaps, in my haste, t'would only be fair to get a seconds opinion."

Her fire shrank till it burned out.

She turned her head with a creek of her spine to the trees behind her.

"Ally! I has need of thy assistance! Awaken and come! With haste, my friend!" She called. Then she pointed a finger down to Silver; "Do not move a muscle, Changeling. We shall see what you truly be."

Every second that passed, Silver kept hoping for it to end. To wake up. Whether it was back in her world or on the astral plane, either with Amy at her side of in her fantasy land. Anywhere but here.

There was a rustle in the shadows. Something heavy began to creep towards them.

As it appeared into the moonlight, Silver's heart leapt with joy.

She never thought she'd be so happy to see him again.

"ROBIN!"

Silver pushed herself up with the intent of running into his arms, only for Mary to summon a pair of roots from the ground to rise up and encircle her ankles, causing her to trip.

Then came a growl. Truly animal and fierce.

She raised her head to look at Robin as he moved closer.

Crawled. He was...crawling. On his knuckles. Like Tarzan.

And fuck....his chest! What happened?!

"Robin?! Robin, what the fuck is going on? I'm scared-." She tried, reaching towards him.

He snapped his teeth at her and she drew her hand back.

"You sees it too. Don't you, sweet ally?" Mary lay a hand on his wild mane of hair; "She be not our precious child."

Robin flared his nostrils and crept closer to her. More than she felt all that comfortable, honest.

He sniffed at her face, her arms, her hair.

Then let out a growl, feral eyes glinting with mistrust before he returned to Mary's side like a loyal pet.

"Robin...Please..." She quietly begged.

"T'is a magnificent deception. But ever so flawed." Mary acquiesced, looking down at Silver like a bug under a microscope; "What do you make of it, ally? A Changeling of the Fae? A demon brat? A Siren of the woods?"

Silver shook her head.

"I'm none of those things. Please...e-even if I'm not your Silver....because you obviously aren't my Mary or my Robin," that much was obvious to her now; "I...I'm just a girl. A ghost, same as you."

"Just a girl, hmm?"

Mary summoned another whisp of smoke to poke at Silver's pentacle.

"Thou doth wear the mark of the witch, same as my little'en. Except, unlike her, you seem to have power of your own. Enough to be wandering the astral plane on thy own." Mary spoke.

"You...You know of the astral plane?" Silver asked.

"All witch folk worth their magic do, girl. And as my own Silver spends so much of her time in the world of her dreams, I has had to acquaint myself with its. T'is where I first looked for her when I did see she was no longer asleep on her bed.....and t'is where I saw you. Wearing her face."

The voice that had lured her to the border...

Silver panted; "It's my face. I didn't steal anything."

"Then tell me where she be! Now!" Fire erupted in a blast from Mary's feet at her demand. Even "Robin" flinched away.

It took everything for Silver not to curl up in terror.

"I don't know! I didn't see anyone who looked like me! Please...Please, believe me, I don't know what's happened anymore than you. I just...I just wanna go home..." She begged, voice cracking.

Robin let out a grumble, impossible to determine what his 'savage' mind was thinking right now. His face lacked all the humor and compassion of her Robin.

He shared a look with Mary. Silent communication between the two of them.

"We shall test you on that, wretch."

With a flick of her hand, one of the old trees reached down and circled its branches around Silver, lifting her up above ground and clutching her as if in a giant claw. She whimpered, hugging her knees to her chest, barely able to see out of the gaps of this spherical cage it formed around her.

"Oh no. No, no, please, don't put me here, I'm claustrophobic, please!" She banged her fists against the bark.

"Then it will serve as a good incentive for thee to confess." Mary sneered.

"I have nothing to confess! I swear! Let me go!"

"Time will tell, little Siren." She whispered, "Ally. Guard the imposter. I am going to search for our dear Silver some more. If she tries to wriggle her way out of her cell, you mays feast on her flesh."

He let out a small growl of distaste.

"Yes, I know you do not eats little'ens. But she be no real child...I suspects. She be a wicked beast in disguise. So chomp aways." With a rather twisted version of Mary's tittering laugh, she disappeared in a plume of smoke and embers.

Silver tried to steady her panicked breathing in the small compartment. She peeked down, staring through the gap to see "Robin" circling beneath her like a ravenous hound. Not a flicker of warmth or compassion in those eyes.

She let out a sob and curled in on herself.

Did her friends even know she was missing? Did Amy see what happened? What if they all just thought she was sucked off and not...trapped?

-

The singing was what awoke him. He opened his eyes to the light of the full moon shining through the window of his (tonight, empty) bedroom, and a young female voice lilting across the golf course.

Robin rubbed at his eyes and looked out.

What was Moonah Girl doing? Just singing and spinning out on the grass?

It wasn't...completely unlike her. She usually loved to dance to give her praise to Moonah. But there was something odd about tonight. Her movements seemed...uncoordinated. Legs stumbling a little too close to the sand banks and ditches.

Conflict tightened in his chest. She'd asked him to stay away. Give her time and space to forgive him for what he did. And he'd...accepted that, with great pain. It was the least he owed her after what he'd done.

He should go back to sleep. Or maybe find Humphrey Head and Body, send them out to check...

Too much effort to reunite them at this hour.

Robin rubbed at his shift. He couldn't leave her out there alone if something wasn't right.

He'd just go see. If she wanted him to piss off then she'd surely let him know.

Swiftly, he left the house and moved across the empty golf course, lit up by many tiny night lamps. He got closer.

She was laughing.

Except...that didn't sound like Silver's laugh. More like a forced exaggeration of it. Not ringing true like a heavenly bell, but shrill and maddening. Hysterical.

"Moonah Girl?" He called out, carefully; "You 'kay?"

The girl stopped. Her arms dropped to her sides.

She turned around and Robin froze.

"Hello! Hehehehe!" The girl greeted, with a smile stretching to the point her pale face looked ready to crack. A face with two faded eyes, peering out, unfocused, drops of blood leaking from her ears and eyes. She reached out her hand towards Robin's voice; "Will you help me find my mummy?"

[polaroidcats]

Hi Cat :D

Top 10 things* about Sirius? Remus? SiriusandRemus?

*anything: fav traits, moments; canon, headcanon. go wild cat :D

hi nyx! ✨

ok here we go, in no particular order and also not saying these are the only things, these are just the first 10 things that come to mind!!

Sirius:

he's just such a cool, badass character, no wonder baby teenage cat had a crush on him i mean look at him and how he handsomely handsomes around!!!

how loyal he is and how much he loves the people he cares about, especially James and Harry

his sense of justice, or idk if justice is the right word, but the way he looks at the world I guess? that's so vague but idk how to put it into words better. but basically that he doesn't just accept the status quo but challenges and wants to change it

HE'S A DOGGO!!!!!!!!

his tragic storyline, like he has been through SO MUCH and it's ALL SO HEARTBREAKING and yet he still tries to show up for harry as best as he can HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE HIM FFS

I love that he became an illegal animagus to help his friend

the fact that he joined an antifascist resistance group as a teenager. have I mentioned I like what a badass he is?!

the fact that he chose the name snuffles

how acecoded/queercoded teenage sirius is written in the books

the fact that he actually came back from behind the veil and lived happily ever after with remus!!!! <3

okay now Remus:

I love that his solution to a problem in PoA seems to be chocolate, A+ problem solving skills

I know some of his teaching methods are a bit unhinged (ahem, boggart), but when I read the books as a kid I really loved him and wished I had a teacher as cool as him!

I love how much of a damp puppy he is

That whole interaction with Snape and the marauders map in PoA

I love how he never learnt to trust that he might be wanted somewhere, and by I love it I mean it rips my heart out and also makes me want to shake him and scream at him that he is loved and wanted

how quickly he goes from thinking Sirius was responsible for James and Lily's death to "let's kill peter together", very normal behaviour

how much of a hot mess he is

same as for sirius, I love that he joined an antifascist resistance group as a teenager

I love how he reacts to the mention of James' name

I love that he actually never got married or had a kid, and also didn't die and actually lived happily ever after with Sirius!! <3

WOLFSTAR

they're both puppies

all the angsty sad stuff in their storylines but also all the potential for softness and post azkaban domestic fluff and healing and hair washing etc

how they reunite for the first time in 12 years, hug like the bros that they are and are already in sync and ready to commit murder <3

that remus just moves in with sirius at GP12

that sirius lies low at lupin's

the "sirius sit down" moment

they're the gay uncles harry deserves!!

i love it in fics when they both have their own shit to deal with and their own traumas etc and both believe they're not worthy of love but then find love in each other and ughhhhh just them healing together and being soft in fics is so gooodddd

i love that they're close friends first, before they are lovers

i love that they canonically didn't die and lived happily ever after forever and ever and ever 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[andywinter16]

Okay okay okay hear me out, luche, Nyx, and drautos having to saying goodbye to their lover because things are getting too dangerous or an even more heartbreaking scenario…. Saying goodbye because their love is dying from a terrible injury!

OMG! You want to make me cry, don´t ya? .... I absolutely know what you mean, let me get to it! It will be mix of both kind of, I just need to decided who I want to break with what plot. ... I hope you have a tissues, anonie?

Okay, gn!reader as always :)

WARNING!!! Lots of angst, mentioned death, betrayel, injury, fatal illness, kinda toxic relationship

If anything of the things mentioned above triggers you, do not read it , please!

--

Luche Lazarus:

"Luche, you´re alive!" you run into his arms at full speed, both of you fell hard on the floor. He seemed genuinely suprised, until his eyebrows knitted together and his lips were pursued just in thin line. You knew what this gesture meant. Displeased.

"What are you doing here!? I send you investigate to Leide. Fuck, this can´t be really happening." he pushed you away from him, making space between you two. You didn´t understand it at all. "Luche, I came back, because I discovered that some of our comrades want to betray Insomnia. So listen to me!" the distress in your voice was palpable.

Luche abruptly stood up. His usually soft features are now graced with sorrowful look . " It´s true, Y/N. Most of us betrayed the king." your jaw dropped. You shook your head in disbelief at that revelation. Luche wouldn't do this, he wasn't like that. Yet you knew him perhaps too well. Luche as any other refugee was despised by Insomnians, and no matter how many people they saved or how many battles they won in the king´s name, Insomnians never accepted them among themselves. Many times you have defended them against rude Insomnians with their snark remarks. But you were just one kind spirit among many assholes. Luche´s intesive stare locked you in place.

" I didn´t wanted you to be caught in this crossfire Y/N. That´s why I send you away on that mission. " he smiled ruefully at you, " But you and your unsatisfied curiosity, always causing trouble." You struggled to get up, it felt like a bad dream that came from the worst nightmare. It's like your mind stopped working, only thing that spinned your mind was betrayl. Luche continued to speak in his soothing voice, giving you a false hope.

" Hide somewhere away from Insomnia, and I will find you Y/N. You´re after all too precious for me to lost." He pulls his gun out, pointing it straight at you. Stunned. Confused. You just stood here frozen in place. Until you finally found the strength to answer him.

" Please, Luche. Stop this madness, this isn´t you! Come with me, we can hide together before the Empire!" you pleaded. He was tempted, but abandoning his cause and be runaway with you, still at cost turning his back toward his people and home? Luche knew it woudn´t go smoothly with you. " It´s too late Y/N. I made up my mind long time ago."

" I am not doing that! Come with me." Luche shakes his head, the gun was still pointed at you. If It can't be the easy way, then you can do it the hard way. " Luche!" you lunged to grab him by the arm in which he holds the gun.

" Go away Y/N!" the trigger was pulled and the bullet bit into your shoulder. Pained scream leaved your lips. It's like time has stopped all of a sudden. You started slowly backing away from him. This is not the Luche you knew and loved. Before you was a cold-blooded man capable of doing anything to succeed in his plan. Tears streamed down your face like a river. Fear possessed you, you heard yourself spoke but it felt like it weren´t your words or even your body.

"You´re not the man that I once loved. You´re just a fucking cruel monster! I wish I would never met you " you throw at him the last thing of your searing bond, the unspoked goodbye. Turning your back at him, you ran as far as possible to safety . Adrenaline coursed through your veins. Even though the injury awfully throbbed, you wanted to be away from such heartless man.

You didn´t turn your back to see those shivering hands which picked your engagement ring. Or how his face was twisted in stabbing pain and cheeks were wet from tears. In that moment you took Luche´s heart with you, and he knew he would never be whole again. Luche became an empty shell, a broken shadow of his formel self.

Nyx Ulric:

Nyx rushes from HQ to the hospital as fast as he could, when he heard the bad news from your doctor. He was so worried for you, yet pissed at why you didn´t told him about your health problem. You dated for five years for Astral´s sake! The recepcionist welcomed him and asked what he needed. " I need to know the room of Y/N S/N. I am their partner, Nyx Ulric." said hastily. She typed something in her to small computer. "It´s room 237 on the six floor, sir." answered the kind woman behind the counter. Nyx went straight to the elevator. Oh, how he hated hospitals.

Finally after some searching, he´s got in to your room. Which was so sterile and white, ugh! Nyx internally cringed. Next to the window was your bed. You were hooked to some beeping machines, your lower half covered in blanket. When your gazes met across a room, a weak smile barely made it on your lips.

" Why didn´t you tell me!?" his outburst suprised you, but it was not unexpected. "Nyx, I don´t want you to see me like that." suddenly your hands looked more interesting that this conversation, "You had already so much on your plate with the Kingsglaive. I didn´t wanted you to be worried for me too." Nyx frowned. " Are you kidding me? Is that why you were distant these few months?! I could have been there for you, by your side. Together we could have endure it. But it seems to me, you chose for both of us." you didn´t miss the bitter tone in his voice. With all your might in your body left, you sharply answered. "If somebody wasn´t always holed in his work or on party with their friends and flirting with everybody there. And then avoiding me like a plague! That is the reason I didn´t tell you, I am not sure I can´t trust anymore." you looked him deeply into eyes at your last sentence. That was the last straw for Nyx. After everything you´ve been through. The anger took better of him.

" Fine! You want it that way, then so be it! I am leaving you, if you can´t trust me enough Y/N! It´´s over, I hope you´re happy!" Nyx stormed off your room, slamming the door shut. " Nyx, wait!" you yelled after him in vain, tears threatened to spill. The pain in your chest intensified, you couldn´t breathe.

The anger made him see bloody red. Nyx slumps to the ground, his palm was balled into a fist, it drawed a blood. He felt so miserable and helpless, just like when Selene died. Nyx lost her and then he´s supposed to lost you too?! He couldn´t stop crying even if he wanted. It was too much.

--

Libertus found him a hours later, on the same spot where Nyx dropped. He had an absent look on his face, usually his stormy blue eyes full of energy were now hollow and puffy. His chin rested on his knees, which he hugged losely to his chest. Nyx looked so defeated, just like when his sister died. Libertus heart broke with grief, at the condition of his almost brother when Nyx uttered his way a single line.

" They´re gone, Libertus."

Titus Drautos:

The blown thrown him harshly at the remnants of concrete wall. Nyx reflexes were too slow from exhaustion, so when his head hit the wall Nyx vision went instantly black. Glauca saw his body slide to the ground, unmoving. Cautiously he went closer to finish his enemy off, while Nyx was still unconscious. Glauca yanked him roughly by his hair, maneuvering him into a semi-sitting position, preparing him for an execution. He let the sword rest on his shoulder, in pose of final victory.

" I commend you for standing by your word, Ulric. But this fight comes to an end."He raised his sword in a final strike. Glauca´s voice sounded somehow strained through his helmet. " Goodbye, Nyx Ulric."

" ARGHH!" a kukri was tossed precisely at Glauca´s head. He at last second ducked and rolled from the way, leaving poor Nyx abandoned on the ground. Glauca quickly scrambled to his feet, eyes frantically searching surounded area for the attacker. His mind quickly analyzed the situation. The kukri came from the right side of that debris. The attacker´s probably light on their feet, so someone from glaives was probably still alive. A shadow flashed in the right corner of his eye. There! So the attack comes from ... A figure dressed in glaive´s battle armor emerged from shadows on his left. Guided by his honned reflexes, he stabbed without remorse. But it was too late when his brain registred who did he stabbed. Y/N fell down on their knees, blood gushed from the stab wound like a waterfall. Glauca horiffied by his own action, took down the helmet. And in his place was Titus Drautos, the trusted captain of the glaives and your lover. He was the traitor, you were looking for among your ranks.

"Titus ... Why?" you tiredly managed to say. The blood loss started to take a heavy tool on your body. Breathing became raspy and beads of sweat were forming on your forehead.

" NO, NO no! Don´t talk Y/N, fuck! I need you to preserve your strenght, okay!" he tried to steady himself to appear calm. Shit, he didn´t have a flask of healing potion on him. Titus managed to apply the first aid, in a vain attempt to keep you alive. He saw too much wounds to knew the outcome, but he will try to do his damn best.

"You´re idiot, you know that? I'd hit you for that kind of stupidity...." You briefly paused. The strength in your body was rapidly dwindling." I would have followed you through a hell, if you asked me." The cold began to spread across your whole body. Titus gave a disheartening smile. " I know you would, love. But this was too much even for you. I had to bear it alone." He squeezed your hand soothingly. You could feel the inevitable coming, yet you weren´t ready to say goodbye.

" I love you, my silly captain ..." was the last thing you said, when Lady Etros took you in her land.

"No, stay with me Y/N! Fuck! Precious, don´t do this to me!" Your eyes became glassy and lifeless, when you took your last breath. Meanwhile Nyx has shaken himself out of the injury, rage boiled in his veins at the sight of your corpse. Titus touched affectionately your cheek, while teary - eyed he whispered his last goodbye.

"I will meet with you on the other side, dearest."

[oldxenomorph]

i was going to lay down and take a nap until i saw something that simply will not leave my head. i must scream about it. (MASSIVE HADES 2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT)

(from this post)

i've been unhealthily obsessive with the chaos-chronos storyline (because i NEED to know where is nyx), eating up every crumb i can find on youtube and in the hades 2 tag and oh my god. puts my head in my hands.

i still would like to know exactly how chronos was able to overpower nyx, considering her power and, again, her connection to the underworld. hopefully someone comes across that or it gets revealed in a later update. but! are we in a nightmare scenario where chronos has everyone imprisoned, including nyx and the fates, when he says "but now i have them all!"? violently rattling the bars to my cage! i'm dying here!

crying and throwing up wishing chaos was able to exchange the fates for nyx and that they're hiding her/protecting her somewhere, maybe within themself. (i don't necessarily agree with the interpretation i've been seeing that chaos looks like megaera aside from the ponytail. also we know where meg is: she's imprisoned with the rest of the house of hades members. but anything's possible at this point, maybe supergiant will surprise me.)

---

ever since i learned about chronos wanting to go after the fates, i've been thinking a lot more about the relationship they and the fates have with the great family.

first off, i'm of the firm believer that the fates have no jurisdiction over the great family. as the children of nyx, they are considerably younger than most, if not all, members of the great family. even the emperor is older than them. seeing that the great family operates beyond space and time, they are governed by their own strange beliefs about destiny. as a result they treat the fate with mostly indifference.

that being said, the fates do know about the great family and they know about the emperor. they know that the night and extinction must be brought together, that after a time apart they must be reunited; the night must endure the wait and all that may come to pass in the meantime, and extinction must endure a time spent amongst humanity and claim their inheritance. the fates know about the cycles of extinction and that one day, it will come for them.

i still can't get out of my head the idea of nyog'sothep making herself known to chaos during this crisis. i don't think chaos knew or even understood why nyx eventually became estranged from them, only that their relationship had deteriorated. i'm not sure if chaos knew that nyog'sothep has something to do with it, that she was the one who drew nyx out so she could be with the emperor these first several billion years while the universe cooled and sorted itself out.

THE CYCLE BEGINS: nyog'sothep became a mother to nyx. she taught her the ways of the great family. her servitors dressed the young goddess. for a time, her domain was nyx's home for a time. nyog'sothtep brought her to the emperor when she was ready. as a mother, nyog'sothtep is stern but loving, she expects one to find their role within the family and fulfill their duties; she is the rationality to nyarlathotep's chaos, she is her parent's deepest thoughts. (insert more about nyog'sothep and azatoth later, i'm starting to get sleepy.)

typically nyog'sothep does not involve herself with matters beyond her domain, the violet sephulchre, or the great family. but the crisis, her genuine worry for nyx, her wanting to collect the emperor's centipede emissary before chronos noticed its presence, made her do something she had no plan on doing until now: making contact with chaos.

i'll have to think more about what their first meeting was like, but i feel like both entities come to an understanding of one another. nyog'sothep would have notices the changes in chaos, seeing that their relationship with nyx has greatly improved over the years. i do think nyog'sothtep would still be genuinely upset that nyx was put in danger, than her power was somehow over ridden. such a thing must not stand. if nyx is safe, then i can see nyog'sothep at first offering to keep nyx within the violet sepulchre, but would have to be convinced to allow chaos to keep nyx with them. if chronos still has nyx and the fates, then i think nyog'sothep would be Incredibly Upset. if that's the case, then (the cycle continues) like zagreus, melinoe may have to help get nyog'sothtep to forgive chaos. maybe nyx will have to get involved when the crisis is over.

ALSO, NOT EXACTLY A PARALLEL, but man. chaos giving the fates over to chronos to save nyx. then thousands of years later, nyx giving the emperor-as-shepard's body to liara to give to cerberus in order to save her.

screams and passes out.

[saratogaroadwrites]

Adamantus (10/12)

Adamantus | saratogaroad rating: G+ total wordcount:  15,328 characters: Aulea Lucis Caelum, Regis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ardyn Lucis Caelum relationships: Aulea/Regis, Aulea & Noctis other tags: Mother-Son Relationship, Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence warnings: Character Death Starts The Plot

When Noctis is three years old, Regis takes ill. The doctor tells her that he will recover, that all will be well.

It isn't.

Aulea Lucis Caelum is left to raise a son on her own, knowing that a Kingdom depends on her strength and will to survive.

She will not lose him, too.

=

"You swore to me!" His mother shouts, nearly at the top of her lungs. Noctis shifts his weight on the plush chair Ardyn dropped him in, exchanging an awkward look with Nyx standing steel rod straight beside him. Neither dares to look ahead, where Ardyn stands on one side of the hardwood desk in his mother's office and Aulea the other, the portrait of Noctis' father looming over her head. As soon as they had been sure that Noctis had been unharmed, Nyx and Ardyn had bustled him here, explained the event in the training room to Aulea, and then the yelling had started.

Noctis isn't sure what's scarier: his mother yelling, or the lingering after-image of Izunia's ghost that appears every time he closes his eyes.

"Yes," Ardyn returns in a venomous hiss, "I" swore to you, Aulea Lucis Caelum, I swore. I made no promises that his forebears would do the same!" Ardyn puts his palms onto the desk, getting into Aulea's space. "Clearly we have worn out their patience."

Noctis chances a look up at his mother's face. She's pale, a stark contrast to the black of her gown, with dark shadows beneath her flashing eyes.

"He's too young!"

"He is eighteen, and has been marked since infancy!" Ardyn sweeps an arm out towards Noctis, who quickly looks away rather than face the Behemoth in the room. "How much longer do you think this can wait?"

"As long as it takes! I will not send my son off to some godsforsaken hell hole when he is not ready--"

"You know the alternative." Ardyn cuts her off. "And if what has happened today is any measure, so do the spirits. This will not be the last time they interfere."

Aulea pulls in a deep breath through her nose, shoulders drawn up as if she wants nothing more than to scream, to throw Ardyn from her office. Noctis tightens his grip on the chair as Nyx shifts his weight, hand shifting towards the hilt of his blade.

But then Aulea looks at Noctis, stares with an inscrutable look in her eyes, and lets her breath go. With a whump of air and shifting cloth, she drops back down into her chair and buries her head in her hands. As if they have come to a wordless agreement, Ardyn nods.

"Now," Ardyn draws back to his full height, but there is a slump to his shoulders Noctis isn't used to seeing. "I will secure us transit. You are welcome to come along, my dear, but we leave no later than dawn tomorrow."

And that is that. Ardyn turns, meets his eyes, and that's when Noctis' stomach settles somewhere near his ankles. The ghost of his ancestor wanted him to kill Ardyn, to fulfill a prophecy some two thousand years old. But even with eight years of training, he's not sure he could if it came to that.

No. He knows he can't. Ardyn has had nearly as much a hand in raising him as his mother. He can't raise a blade against that. Ardyn seems to know that, because his eyes are sad even as he tries to smile.

"Pack light, princeling. We shan't be gone overlong." he says to Noctis, then strides from the room. There are squeaks and the clatter of footsteps as the others scatter from their eavesdropping positions, and Nyx rolls his eyes skyward. A flicker of a smile dances across Aulea's face, hidden beneath the hand she uses to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Nyx, will you..." Aulea gestures after Ardyn. Nyx looks at Noctis for a moment, then nods and bows to his queen. He pulls the doors shut behind him, leaving Queen and Prince alone in the office. Hands clutching around the end of the chair, Noctis looks up.

He loves this space. It's his mother's space, where at least for a little while the outside world can be shut out so it's just them. He's spent many a day curled up in the plush chairs, reading a book and asking questions, questions she would answer without hesitation no matter what she had been doing at the time. Some of his most precious memories are in this office.

Seeing the struggle on her face, the frown and tension around her eyes, he'd trade all of those just so she wouldn't have to look so sad.

"Mom," he starts, but she shakes her head.

"Eight years ago," she cuts him off with a quiet voice, not raising her head from her hands, "I exhausted every resource I had left to make sure he was telling us the truth. Your uncle Cor went all the way to Cleigne and back to make sure this wasn't some game."

They both know it's not. She told him as much five years ago. Noctis stands up and makes his way to stand across from his mother. She looks up at him then, reaching for his hand. Her fingers are cold, but her grip is strong even as her hand trembles.

"If I could take your place..."

He doesn't know if he could survive losing her. Not now. He squeezes her hand and tries not to think of it. "Yeah," he shrugs a little, trying to be casual, "But you can't. I've got to do this, right?"

It's what he's been training for since he was a kid. And yeah, he thinks to himself as she wipes at her face, he's more than a little scared right now considering how she's acting, but...if there's no other option, if the only other option is one he can't do, then...he'll do this.

He has to do this.

"When did you get so wise?" She asks, pulling open a drawer beside her with her free hand. From within, she pulls out a small box that she holds up to him. "Here. This might be of some use to you now."

"What is it?"

"Open it," she says, and she sits back to watch as he lets go of her hand to pry it open. His mother has always been honest with him, never this secretive, this worried. His stomach churns, acid hot in his belly, as he gets the little box open and stares at its contents.

A thick black ring rests in the box, a single gleaming shard of crystal set between prongs in a design he can't quite make out. Noctis blinks, looking from the ring to the portrait above the desk. That same ring rests on his father's middle finger, a stark contrast to his gleaming silver wedding band beside it.

"This is...."

His mother nods.

"It was your father's. And his father's before that, and his father's before that, and so on and so forth." She adjusts her silver crown with one hand. "The Ring of the Lucii has been passed down from forebear to heir for nearly two thousand years. Your father would have given it to you when you took the throne."

Something passes over her face then, a flicker of nausea, but it's gone before he can ask. Holding the box in the palm of one hand he reaches for the ring with the other, fingers touching cold metal and colder crystal that gleams with an inner light.

It burns like ice, like the hand around his leg from less than an hour before.

Quick as a flash Noctis drops the box to her desk with a clatter. The crystal shard glows bright as a flare, but quickly goes dim. Maybe he's seen too many old horror movies with Prompto, but that? That is so not cool. He looks up, meets his mother's eyes, and shakes his head.

As if that was the answer she was waiting for, Aulea slams the box closed and tosses the thing back into her drawer, slamming that closed as well.

"When did you get so wise?" She repeats as she stands up. He doesn't have an answer for her, even though he so desperately wants one, and when she comes around and opens her arms he nearly falls into them.

"I had a good teacher," he says quietly. She tightens her grip on him, and for just a moment they're only mother and son, not queen and prince. For just a moment, there is no prophecy, no death, no ancient ghosts wanting heads on platters, it's just them.

The moment can't last. She gives him a squeeze and then pulls back, reaching up to cradle his face in her hands. When had he gotten taller than her? He can't remember. He doesn't like it.

"We've done what we can to prepare you," Aulea's voice wavers, "And yet I fear it won't be enough. I don't know what awaits you."

Death, probably, but he doesn't say that. He looks up at the portrait of his father looking regally down at the pair of them and wonders, just for a moment, what Regis would have done if it had been him here and not Aulea.

It doesn't matter. He reaches up, clasping her elbows, and squeezes her arms.

"I'll come home." He tries to smile at her, but the fear in her eyes has put ice in his veins.

Not once has he seen his mother this terrified, not even on the day Ardyn first arrived. He never wants her to look this scared again. He tries a little harder to smile and thinks he manages, because she smiles back at him and rubs a thumb across his cheek.

"You'd better," she says, "Or I'll drag you back from the Beyond and ground you until you're eighty, young man."

Somehow, he has no doubt she would manage that.

[letannabethchasesayshit]

Summary: Ripley Curbello's father always told her how she was born of the night sky. As it turns out, he was telling her the truth. She is the Daughter of Nyx, Greek Goddess of the Night. After Ripley's father is killed, she is sent on the run. She is all alone but not for long. She finds Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace, and Luke Castellan. All four of them lost their families or were rejected. All four were alone, but they found love and family together. It was the four of them against the world and Ripley thought it always would be. Ripley must grapple with finding a family, losing them, and her fear of herself. All rational people are afraid of the dark, and Ripley is not different.

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Read on AO3 here

Part 2/14

Chapter Two: Boy, That Sure Was Weird

The running never seemed to stop. No sooner had I outran the cyclops than I heard the roars of something else. I ran straight out of the city, leaving nothing but a trail of tears behind me.

I thought in the woods around the city I would be safe, but it seemed like the monsters only got worse. The first creature I met in those woods would also be the last. It was something straight out of my nightmares, or straight out of the mythology books my Papa used to read. The lion head was the first to see me, roaring to get the attention of its goat half. As soon as they both spotted me, the scorpion tail shot out at me. I managed to dodge, screaming and struggling to run away.

The creature did not hesitate in chasing me. I screamed louder, dodging branches and rocks alike in my effort to get away from it. The creature only continued to advance.

I was right on the outskirts of the city where an old elementary school resided. It had long since been condemned due to asbestos in the walls, but the thing was still standing. I saw the shattered windows and dark halls and I swore it was calling out to me. Something about that building was beckoning to me, promising me safety and hope all wrapped into one package. I don’t know what it was, but I listened, changing my trajectory to sprint straight to the abandoned school.

I swan dived through one of the shattered windows. The broken glass tore at my clothes and skin but my adrenaline was much too high to recognize it. I landed on my hands and knees as the creature roared. It was much too large to fit through the windows and began to run around the school looking for another way in. That gave me enough time to hide.

I ran into the hallways and began to hunt for somewhere to hide. I ran around a corner and nearly fell over the abandoned janitor cart. In it was a broken broom, only the hilt was remaining. A few jagged pieces stuck out of the end. Without thinking, I grabbed it, fully intent on stabbing the creature in the eye before it could get to me.

A roar shook the whole building. Just in that sound alone, I knew it had found its way in. I began to cry harder as I ran around another corner. At that very same moment, another girl ran around the corner directly across the hall.

The two of us froze with several yards still between us. It was not difficult to see her despite how dark it was in that school. It was the dead of night and the city had long since shut off any electricity to the school, but I saw the girl just as well as I would in the middle of the afternoon.

I saw her squint as she tried to make me out. She had to be about my age, maybe a year or two older. She was covered in just as many scrapes, bruises, and gashes as I was and her eyes were just as wide and full of fear as mine. Her jean jacket only had one sleeve left and her knee was bleeding pretty badly. She held a hammer in front of her, a much better weapon than my broken broomstick. Her stormy gray eyes did their best to see anything in the darkness without much luck. She pushed back her dark hair, some of which had fallen out of their braids, whimpering a bit as she did.

“Stay back!” she swung her hammer into the darkness, “I mean it!”

Another roar shook the building, this one sounding much closer. I covered my ears with my hands and let out a shriek. The girl blinked rapidly as I ran up to her, “It’s getting closer!”

“Get away!” she jumped away and flung her hammer around, making me duck, “Get away, monster!”

Another roar made me cry even harder, “I’m not a monster! I’m a girl!”

“What’s a girl doing here?”

“Running away!”

Another roar made both of us start to cry harder. The girl dropped her hammer to her side and reached out to grab my hand, “We’ve got to get out of here, it can smell us!”

“How? It’s too fast!” I shouted as she began to drag me behind her, “We can’t be faster!”

“I don’t know, but we have to try!”

We began to sprint as fast as our short legs would carry us. The girl struggled in the dark for a moment, she seemed to run into more walls than she passed. Eventually, I took the front and began to guide her around all the walls. Neither of us stopped to ask why I could see in the dark but she couldn’t. We were much too hopped up on adrenaline to find anything bizarre about it.

We finally made it to the gymnasium where a wall had crumbled. That was our ticket out, if we could make it through there we could lose the creature in the forest. The two of us kicked through the doors only to come face to face with exactly what we were running from.

The creature stood between us and freedom, illuminated by the full moon. It was pacing up and down the wall, snarling to itself until it saw us. The second its eyes fell on us it roared, stretching out its tail and letting poison drip from the tip.

“A chimera,” the girl breathed.

I held tightly to her hand, “What?!”

The beast roared again and began to charge. Both of us screamed, running back to the doors but finding them stuck from the otherside. The chimera had us cornered.

The girl held up her hammer while I held up my stick. Both of us were sobbing. At that moment, all I wanted was my Papa to come and save me. Instead, the girl and I were left to press ourselves up against the locked door.

The beast lunged and I screamed. Dark shadows surged out from behind us and attacked the chimera. It pinned the creature to the wall, blanketing it just as it did the cyclops. The girl watched the chimera fight against it as she mumbled, “How did you do that?”

“Come on!” I pulled her arm and tried to pull her away, “We gotta go!”

The girl blinked out of her trance and obliged. The two of us held each other's arms as we sprinted from the school.

It took most of the night to make sure we put as much distance between us and the chimera as we could. We only finally stopped running whenever the sun began to rise. With the first rays of morning, we found ourselves at a small creek where we finally took a break. I fell to sit on a rock, breathing heavily and clutching the broken broomstick to my chest. The girl sat next to me a little bit more hesitantly.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

I shrugged, “I dunno. I guess the darkness listens to me.”

“It can’t listen to you, it doesn’t have ears.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” she retorted, “Are you some sort of witch? With magic?”

I wrinkled my nose, “I’m not a witch!”

“Then, how did you do that?”

“I dunno. My Papa used to tell me my Mama was what made all those special things happen. He told me she would always protect me, maybe that was her.”

The girl stared at me for a few extra minutes. I swore she never blinked as she bore a hole right through my skull. I began to shift uncomfortably under her gaze but she still refused to break it.

“You’re like me, aren’t you?” she finally broke her silence, “Your mom’s a God just like mine is.”

I furrowed my brow, “Yeah, that’s what my Papa told me.”

“My Dad told me the same thing. Who’s your Mom?”

“Nyx, who’s yours?”

“Athena.”

“Who’s Athena?”

“Goddess of wisdom and battle strategies,” she responded with a grin.

I copied her smile, “Nyx is Goddess of the night.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ripley, what’s yours?”

“Annabeth,” she answered, “Did you run away too?”

I frowned and looked away, “My Papa and I were attacked by a monster. He-he told me to run.”

“Did your Papa die?”

“I think so.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Annabeth didn’t even hesitate, “The monsters- they can smell us.”

“We could take a bath.”

“Not that kind of smell,” Annabeth giggled, “It’s our blood, they can smell that we’re demigods. It’s impossible to hide, trust me, I’ve tried.”

I glanced up at her. A dark shadow came to rest across her face, making her usually bright gray eyes turn the same color as the sky before a storm. I tilted my head in order to look at her through her curtain of dark hair, “Is that why you’re running?”

“My Dad doesn’t love me anymore,” Annabeth responded, “He never wanted me in the first place.”

I glanced up at her, “Why not?”

Annabeth shrugged, “I dunno. I think the monsters scared him, and my stepmom and her two sons. He said they were my fault.”

“I don’t think they’re your fault,” I responded, “You said they could smell us, you can’t stop smelling.”

Annabeth giggled before frowning once again, “I wish my Dad thought the same. I ran away from him and my stepmom. I thought- I thought maybe I could find my Mom and I could make a new family. One that loved me.”

I listened to her intently. It never occurred to me to try and find my Mom. My entire face brightened as I bounced on the rock, “That’s a great idea! I wanna find my Mom too! Maybe we could find them together!”

“That sounds fun,” she cracked a smile, exposing her missing front tooth, “I don’t like being alone.”

“I don’t like being alone either. We could do it together! It’ll be just like we’re our family!”

When your life is so short, things feel much more intense than they truly are. Annabeth and I were kids, she was only seven while I was a year behind her. We didn’t have any concept of relationships nor the time they might need to develop. A kid will love someone with their whole heart from the moment they meet them.

Annabeth and I were both desperate. We were lonely and desperate for the family we lacked. That day, we created a bond that would play a significant role in both of our lives. Despite being just children, we built the one relationship that would never fade away, no matter what happened. Looking back, I’m grateful we made the choice that we did, even if it was made by two desperately lonely kids.

“We could be sisters!” I exclaimed.

Annabeth grinned, “I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“Me too!”

Both of us had the same thought at the same time, we rocketed forward and flung our arms around each other. After squeezing the life out of each other, we pulled apart and exchanged smiles.

“Together,” Annabeth muttered.

I grinned, “Together.”

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a returning citizen in Mount Phoenix:

           Azazel, a 22 year old son of Nyx.            He is a bartender at Minx.

FC NAME/GROUP: Yoo Yongha/WEi CHARACTER NAME: Azazel AGE/DATE OF  BIRTH: 22 -10/30 PLACE OF BIRTH: Somewhere in Korea OCCUPATION:  Bartender @ Minx Burlesque Club and Lounge, Underground piercer training  to do tattoo’s HEIGHT: 173cm - 5'6 WEIGHT: 55kg - 125lbs DEFINING  FEATURES: Beauty mark shaped like a moon on left cheek, purple eyes,  pale shimmery pearl like skin, silver freckles over his nose, scar over  his right temple to his forehead, scars on his fingers and fingertips,  knuckles from fighting, tattoo’s of a curse down his back and neck,  tattoos on his thighs and lower arms to try and hide burn scars from  cigarettes, eyebrow piercing, left ear has 5 piercings, right ear has 3.  

PERSONALITY: Saying he hated everyone is an understatement. His lack  of reaction and cold attitude often get him into fights but he handles  them well. Keeps to himself usually but if someone does get him to talk  it’s never what anyone wants to hear.  

Being far to honest and blunt  with what he says he doesn’t really see the means of having a filter,  sugar coating his words. It isn’t his intention to insult someone or  tear down their dandy day but it also isn’t his job to build it up  either. He was never sugar coated growing up so why should he do it to  strangers? But he really isn’t all bad, deep down there was a softness  hidden inside that he made sure to keep from others on fear of being  hurt again.  

Trust was far to none and gaining it more rare than him  smiling. Fashionable and artistic, he hides his scars and the various  things he doesn’t want anyone to see under his expensive layers.  

HISTORY: TW - Mentions of abuse and child neglect, drugs and alcohol.  

Before this Azazel lived in a wooden box, not metaphorically he  literally lived in a box. Azazel didn’t understand why he had been  placed here when before he had such a warm and happy home, a mom and a  dad he thought loved him so much. He had games, a bed, all the snacks he  could have wanted, and love. So why was he here? What Azazel wasn’t  told is the people he was with before finally got pregnant and decide  they didn’t want to foster a child anymore. That they weren’t adopting  him anymore. Being adopted was a joke, thrown into a foster home where  the woman was so perfect on the outside but behind closed doors she was a  monster. Addicted to anything and everything that could give her a  rush, using the money she got taking Azazel’s in to fuel her wild lavish  life. Drugs, alcohol, expensive clothes, sex, she did it all without  shame or care. Especially without care.

Inside some room of the home  the toddler was stuffed into a box left in the dark with a blanket and a  torn up purple star plushie, left in there for hours while she did  whatever she did. At first he would claw and scratch at it’s surface  until his fingers bled..but over time If he was good and quiet she would  let him out to watch cartoons, eat scraps of what she had left laying  around and play with various object; most of which weren’t safe but he  imagined them as something else. When there were home checks she would  convince him to pretend everything was perfect with promises of cookies  and an extra hour in the television, which he obeyed. He would be  smacked if he called her momma or asked for more of something, would be  burned with cigarettes if he came out if his box or wet his pants.

At  once point when he was 6 he asked to go outside while she was drunk and  when she didn’t answer he tried, much to her displeasure. She screamed  about how he was ungrateful, how he tried to leave after all she has  done ultimately hitting him in the head with an astray. He didn’t cry  though because if he had she would have hit him more. Of course she  didn’t take him to the doctor, deciding to just give him a sleeping pill  and do it herself. For years the cycle kept up, his need for a parental  love or any love at all slowly fading the more he was neglected and  abused. The box got bigger until it just became a closet and Azazel  still played along when visits came because who would want a teenager if  he went back? What if the next place is worse? His trust went further  and further down the drain before finally running out, leaving nothing  but a cold husk of a warm child behind.

He didn’t attent school but he  didn’t need to. Being unnaturally smart Azazel had learned fast just  from seeing how to cook, clean, dress himself with the two outfits he  had, read and write. Every time the woman was out or drunk he would  sneak out of closet to do whatever was needed to teach himself basic  necessities. How to live.

When he turned 18 and the woman demanded his  checks that were now addressed to him, but for once he said no. Running  away wasn’t easy.. quickly he learned his eyes didn’t work in daylight,  blind against the overly bright and menacing light. He couldn’t go  outside at all during the day having to changing his schedule to fit a  night life, it wasn’t easy to move only in the night but it was ideal.  Sorta. The streets were hard and the shelters rough, any further trust  that lingered melted away with every fist he took to the face and dealt  back. He fought people every day whether it was for no reason other then  them being offended he didn’t care, helping someone that couldn’t help  themselves, or getting rid of the guys that woman sent got his money..  he fought. Black eye, busted lip, he never showed up without something  on his body. Another cycle was starting to form and for a couple years  he let it, until he couldn’t handle being stuck again. Stuck in another  repeating cycle of abuse and neglect, this time it was his own fault.

Azazel searched and searched for a means to escape, to go anywhere  else.. but no matter where he went in Korea trouble followed. Eventually  the talk of an island reached his ears, with the promise of a place he  could go where he could really leave this hell hole behind, that woman’s  goons unable to find him.. he took the risk of finding it. The island  really was remote, far off the coast where no one would know of him.  Mount Phoenix was it’s name. There he felt a strange pull, didn’t fully  understand the weird feeling of the place, just liked he could start  new.

Finding an underground tattoo shop they took him in when seeing  his talent, gave him a temporary place to stay above the shop until he  was able to house himself. If he hadn’t been so broken he would have  been able to show he was grateful, unfortunately..he didn’t even trust  the kindness that gave. Eventually the checks stopped, they probably  realized he ran and a job outside apprenticeship was needed. Azazel  search everywhere for anything that operated solely at night not again,  it was difficult, he wanted to give up. Eventually a guy at the tattoo  shop set him up with an interview at a club called Minx as a bartender,  somehow getting the job with no experience but when he showed he could  learn instantly by just observing.. he was hired.

PANTHEON: Greek CHILD  OF: Nyx POWERS: Ability to manipulate Darkness (if in large amounts can  be draining and short lived in time), Perfect ability to see at night  like a cat, Ability to see prophecies but rarely and often only negative  (can only see prophecies of those he has made physical contact with or  those that directly influence his life.) STRENGTHS: Observant,  Photogenic Memory, Quick Reflexes, Quick Witted, Artistic, Heavy Hitter,  Can learn anything from watching it once. WEAKNESSES: Practicality  blind during the day, Forgets to eat, Hits first-asks questions later,  Hates everything, Allergies to Watermelon

[noirbriar]

FFXV AU: Find Your Way

Libertus: *supposedly projected to be the sensible one in the party and normal of the bunch*

Also Libertus : *goes AWOL, does his own thing, also takes a car and slams into Drautos without remorse, and later takes over as a figurehead of the Kingsglaive*

A quick writing challenge for myself.Character study of sorts? This one is hard and I eventually gave up. But Libs deserves something too I feel, after considering the end of Kingsglaive and Comrades.

Also, some Iris and Crowe things too.

——-

Stay honest. Be humble. Do good and keep out of trouble.

There are the words his mam had kept drilling into him as a kid. Words to live by that simply, and logically made sense.However the Galahdian has no idea how trouble just keeps finding him. Libertus tried. He really did.

Libertus tried when Nyx went canyon diving in effort to out do Luche. He somewhat attempted when little Selena attempted to have a pet piranha in Jahha Ulric’s ornamental fish pond in their garden. He did all he could when Crowe had placed fireworks in Furia’s locker out of spite over something silly. 

“-You wilful child, don’t you dare-!”

SLAM!

Now the burly Galahdian can only gape blankly, watching the disaster unfold before his eyes. All while their unexpected stowaway had went and snatched the comms, slamming the device with Lord Clarus Amicitia’s voice yelling himself hoarse out of Sasha’s hands without a thought. The poor boy gaping at the Lucian bewilderedly. Whereas his squad could only stare at the suddenly quiet machine as young Lady Iris Amicitia storms off to the edge of the haven in quiet anger like a monsoon storm brewing in the horizon.

His squad turns to him eerily in sync. All eyes wandering towards their Deputy expectantly to deal with this unexpected turn of events. 

Libertus can only sigh and begins to trudge his way over to where Iris was.

The Lucian forces are low on manpower and tight on time due to having one Marshal and Prince’s Shield down as Nyx tries to cover for Gladiolus. This left the warfront to the both the King and Lord Shield as well as Major Elshett, Major Ackers and the Glaives. They had barely managed to reclaim Leide and Duscae. Now they are pushing all efforts to clear the daemon nests around Cleigne while replenishing ammunition to other teams further out clearing Imperial bases. All to strengthen their foothold in the Lestallum region that they just secured. However this unexpected development has put a wrench in their current schedule.

As the only child but part of a large Clan, his mam and his ba were both rather old when they finally had him. Libertus then grew up cared for, and caring for a large family with plenty of cousins. Selena Ulric too, was as good as his own baby sister considering how close he was with the Clan Ulric and Nyx.

After moving to Insomnia,Nyx was distant as were his kinsmen. Maybe it was his nature or just his inability to leave anyone alone,or the need to have a friend, Libertus is not entirely sure, but he felt an affinity and need to look after Crowe when they first met in the Kingsglaive. She had been this scrawny young kid whose eyes were filled with fire and rage. An absolute a handful, not that she is not anymore, but the man is optimistic enough to think she is past her rebellious phase now as a grown woman and excellent mage. Now a fellow Deputy in the Kingsglaive. 

They had all did pretty well looking after each other’s stupid asses while raising a girl with so much fire and character, that much was certain. Yet, he knows without a doubt that if it weren’t for Crowe, and being allowed to care for her as a brother figure, it managed to keep him busy from spiralling into a darkness that he shudders to think about. She was an anchor when he had been adrift since coming to Insomnia after watching most of his family perish in the Rebellion as Galahd burned. Nyx and his fellow kinsmen had their own demons to deal with, and at one point they all had sorta slipped towards the deep end. 

Now it feels like deja-vu as he sees a different pair of bright, fierce eyes filled with the same fire staring back at him.

That is, until the firecracker threw a punch at him.

The young Lady had nearly threw him off if he had not reacted quickly enough to dodge. He also chooses to tune out the sudden cheer from his men. The bastards are just watching a free show as he avoids a hit in his solar plexus from the tiny girl.What do House Amicitia feed their kids anyway?

“Woah now! Holy Ramuh, Iris? What? What brought this on? A little family squabble?”Libertus laughs awkwardly before he sputters and notices something is clearly wrong with the bright and chirpy girl. They are not close, due to their different stations. Even though they have met on several occasions in Insomnia, him on guard duty with Iris sharing small talk with the friendly glaive while in the Citadel. Even having fought together a couple of times in Lestallum when daemons suddenly started to overrun the area when they were wrestling Lestallum back from the Imperials. The Iris he knows is always optimistic and supportive, helping wherever she could. A good kid all around. This unusual behaviour have caught him entirely off guard.

“Libertus, fight me!”

The Glaive chokes on his own spit as Iris sudden demand snaps him out of his own head and turns to his possible murderer and person to single handedly end his entire somewhat moderately lukewarm Kingsglaive career, “w-what?”

“Fight. Me!”

“Yeeeeah no. Not gonna do that, squirt.” Libertus has enough. He’s not the strongest fighter but he is still a veteran nonetheless, and he easily subdues the angry Amicitia with a firm grab, locking her arms in a quick disarming manoeuvre without hesitation. Unlike mainlanders, Galahdians do not coddle their fighters and young, especially towards women raised to be warriors, the Muu’laris.  

 Iris struggles, unrelenting and unwavering until she finally runs out of steam. Exhausted in her rage.

“I’mma let you go.And then we’ll talk. Only talk.Yeah?” Libertus tells her calmly and patiently, almost like dealing with an unruly child.

“…Fine.” The Galahdian releases her and Iris Amicitia turns and looks at Libertus grimly, shoulders squared and fists balled tightly by her side. 

“Its.I just-I-”

Iris then crumbles as she curls down and begins to wail, her chest heaving in broken heaving breaths.Her form shaking.

Oh, oh no. If anything, there is one thing Libertus cannot deal with, its kids, and tears.

(He also has no idea why he is suddenly involved in so much family drama. From Royal sibling quarrels to Royal family disputes. This was all NOT in the Glaive Recruitment briefing.)

Libertus fumbles a little, taken by surprise for the second time that night. Confused as he turns to his own crew watching them incredulously. Minos even has the audacity to even mouth at him a ‘lol you done fucked up’ while Sasha has gotten whiplash, stunned by the entire display. With both Miles and Elea watching on, intrigued. He resists the urge to give them a rude hand gesture and chooses to ignore the unhelpful bunch in favour of the situation at hand. The burly man squats down and quietly pats the broken girl carefully on her back in attempt to calm her distress.

“Hey, hey? We gotcha. Its okay. Let it all out.” Libertus pats her back gently.Iris just cries harder into her knees. Until the tears simply would not flow anymore and reduced into small hacking sobs. There was silence with only the sound of insects and the daemons groaning in a distance, on top of little sniffles filling the night as the camp fire crackles and the Glaives watch sympathetically nearby.

“So, wanna talk about it? I have a good ear.” Libertus tries to break the silence awkwardly. The big Galahdian trying to gauge the problem and making the space comfortable for the teen to talk on her terms.

“…They won’t listen. As if we aren’t in the middle of War and they just want me safe! They forgot that no one IS safe! Jared nearly died if you guys had not arrived just in time and Talcott, he-” Iris begins to rant irritably in a jumble, heaving between sobs, “Daddy even nearly died now he’s on the frontlines. And-and Gladdy! He-Gladdy just takes off to take an stupid Trial and-“ the young Amicitia purse her lips and tries to gather herself.

Ah. Libertus is starting to see the problem.

In the chaos, they all seem to have forgotten that its the people dearest to them by their side breaking apart without a word. What more a civilian girl who lost her home and now have to watch helplessly while everyone around her are heading out to possibly die. In his personal opinion, the Lord Shield and Gladiolus have neglected to ponder if their actions would affect their family. Though by no means intentionally or deliberate with ill will. Now, Iris’ confession reminds Libertus of loved ones lost during the long years up to the Rebellion of Galahd and his time in the Glaive under Drautos, watching brothers and sisters in arms perish on the battlefield. The grim feeling of regrets he had long buried coils around his heart wretchedly.

Sometimes, its those who are left alive by the sidelines who suffer the most pain.

Gladious’ choice to take on an impossible Trial and the Lord Shield’s brush with death seemed to have become Iris’ tipping point. Its a behaviour he’s all too familiar within the Kingsglaive. With people reaching their threshold, they collapse as the cup spills over, the heart unable to contain anymore fear and helplessness. Even the brightest and most put together looking ones. Maybe them most of all.

“I’m sorry. This is so stupid.” Iris mumbles, wiping her eyes and muffling the last sniffles that escapes her.The girl starting to process her irrational behaviour it seems.

“Naw kid. Glad that you trust me enough to talk. Though running away from your safe house and hanging up on the Lord Shield is not great, I gotta admit there.” Libertus plops down, tired of squatting and pats the grassy patch, gesturing the teen to settle down. He pulls out a handkerchief of intricate Galahdian patterns and offers it to her.

Iris takes it with a soft thanks as she folds her arms and curls deeper into herself.

“What exactly happened? If you don’t mind me askin’?” 

“I had asked but daddy won’t even consider letting me join the frontlines to help. Even when I have been trained in combat since I was a kid. Not as much as Gladdy, but eventually I would enter the Crownsguard myself anyway. He is barely coping and I can see he’s struggling so clearly. Gladio has his hands full as Shield for Noctis and having to guard Lady Lunafreya. Yet all I am expected to do is stand on the sidelines like I’m nothing!” Iris begins, “I’m just tired of being treated like glass when my entire family is out there when clearly I can help! I am an Amicitia, am I not?”

Libertus hears her loud and clear. It resonates somewhere in Libertus that this is beyond some teenage rebellion. Its a need steaming from something deeper from within. 

How many times he himself had said a similar thing to his cousins going out to fight the Empire when they encroached on their shores? Or every time Nyx attempts to be a Hero out on the field to save everyone in their company? Or Crowe trying to do things her way stubbornly on the field, pushing herself into stasis every time. The baby glaives all being stubborn and destructive, doing things beyond them as they cope with their own hurts? 

How he himself threw his own being out there with no regards until he was so tired of all the futile fighting done up until the damn Treaty and the Fall? Libertus is a practical person to a fault, but for once since this chaos had begun, he finds himself daring to hope. For Eos, for his people, for himself. 

“To be fair, they are right. You are barely of enlistment age, Iris. Plus, you are Lord Amicitia’s youngest and only daughter. They all love you, Iris. Do not doubt that. Your life is priceless and should anything happen to you, your father and your brother will break apart.” Libertus slowly gives his perspective. Whether the girl listens or not is another thing.

Iris remains quiet, her eyes downcast and deathly still.

“I will admit I kinda didn’t think this through properly…You guys might be in trouble. I’m so sorry. ” Iris at least finally realises the consequences of her brashness and look sheepish. Which earns her a bark of laughter from the burly man.

“Ha! We’re already are. Although one disciplinary report and you still can’t beat the Nyx’s and his file is like what? 6 Lucian dictionaries tall?” Libertus jokingly laughs to himself in his own amusement before letting the conversation turn back with seriousness. “Damn right you didn’t. I won’t sugarcoat it for you, its damn stupid and reckless. But at least you realise it. Thats a step. So I still havta ask, did you just ran out with us just to prove a point?”

 Libertus is watching Iris carefully, though he suspect he knows the answer.

“No.Just.Well… I just don’t want to just sit around do nothing when I know I can do something.” Iris turns to him, stubborn defiance in her voice. ”…Are you guys going to send me back to Jared now?”

The Galahdian sighs heavily, feeling the tension on the back of his head tighten. Not that he is keeping count how many times he is doing that. He knows he will regret this and it has the potential to blow up in his face. Yet he also is familiar enough to know if he does not do what his gut feels right, Iris will just get herself into a deeper mess later. Not that she is not right now.

“If you wanna be a hellion, I honestly rather you do it with us and have people watching your back.” Libertus caves and considers the options and his life choices. He prays silently and hopes this would not bite him in the ass. Its obvious the young Amicitia girl will not stop if told no anyway.

Iris perks up cautiously. Libertus pauses, as he turns serious with what comes next.

“But I’m going to be serious, Iris, you MUST follow our commands. We’ll guide you and do the mission together. We can go clear out some daemons as per our mission. You get to prove your point and also a chance to prove yourself. Later you can take this as an experience or make your argument with Lord Amicitia or the King and whoever. I don’t know. But you will stick with us and please, your safety first. If not for me, for the rest of the Glaives’ sake.” 

“So, you’ll let me help? I can fight with you guys?” Iris starts carefully, sitting up with her back straightened, almost unbelieving.

“If I know the Captain well enough, he won’t agree to allow you with us on the field. But we sure as hell don’t have the luxury and time to send you back now either. However if shit gets real, I will be dragging you back with Jared and Talcott first thing without a word. I’m not risking shit. Not you, not any of my squad. You get me?” Libertus lays it down and Iris jumps up, her eyes, glittering and bright before making a textbook salute.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Etro, please preserve him and his soul.

Libertus sighs for the nth time that evening and in an instant feels older by a decade.Questionable life choices aside, this is a whole other set of responsibility that is not part of his job. But looking at her cheerful smile all wide and hopeful, Libertus cannot find it in him to be annoyed to be honest. He really is too soft to be a soldier.

He also wonders wryly which will hit him faster? Discharge papers, or the Lord Shield’s blade?

——-

“WHAT THE FUCK LIBS?!”

Sure enough. Nyx personally is not okay with Iris out in the field and was very vocal about it. Libertus somewhat knows why too, considering Selena was barely 14 when she died in the Rebellion as a Muu’laris. However, the Kingsglaive Captain literally cannot do anything at the moment stuck with the Prince’s retinue. So for once the tables are turned with Nyx telling Libertus off in rapid Galah that has Minos, the only Galahdian apart from Libertus in the group, wincing with every word.

The burly Galahdian simply gestures for Sasha, the poor baby glaive, to let the comms run on its own. While the squad digs into a Malboro feast as a treat after a long night of tearing apart several daemon nests. 

Libertus had been firmly adamant in his stand and opinion as much as Nyx is. Its the truth that they need all the capable fighters on deck after losing Insomnia. Iris has already proven herself she is no pushover and combat wise, she is a damn good fighter. Petite but not fragile. Hell no. 

It is true that the girl is not supposed to be here for many reasons. Lucians do not operate on the same way as Galahdians in the way they view their warriors. That, on top of her current status as Lady of House Amicita. Captain Ulric declares this out of his hands and had gone straight to the King to intervene. He’s not risking the someone else’s only daughter, especially when the Marshal is not here either to call the shots on the Crownsguard’s end of things. This is also not a responsibility he is willing to throw onto his men with good conscience either.

It was a quiet morning when the King himself calls Iris personally. He remains silent as Iris speaks to him through the comms, polite and concise, firm but respectful, as per her station of high Lucian nobility. An impeccable image of a Lady of House Amicitia. After listening to the girl herself and considering Iris’ own choices, Regis relents. He puts out the command for Libertus and his Glaives to watch over Iris in official capacity of training her. One royal decree later, their squad instantaneously gets a disciplinary warning each by Captain Ulric, Iris receives hers from the Head of the Crownsguard Lord Amicitia himself. Their Deputy alone gets three. Which makes Libertus huff at while his crew laugh as the situation finally settles.

Iris gives Libertus a hug, screaming with chains of happy ‘thank you‘ on repeat as they continue on their journey. The Galahdian is glad, even considering the trouble it earned him. It was worth it as he watch the young Crownsguard slowly blossom into a formidable warrior all on her own.

——-

The first time Iris kills a human imperial soldier, Libertus stays by her side throughout the rest of the day. Much like how he did for Crowe and the baby glaives on their first stint. On another occasion in an ambush on one of their scouting trips, the crew all stay up and making sure her concussion does not turn into something worse. 

Between destinations, they all share old childhood stories comparing to each region they hail from. Favourite food, the weird snacks in different birthplaces. Families and memories of parents and cousins, and a mom Iris barely remembers. Small things that they find common ground and familiarity with. The glaives teaches her combat and run drills with her along the way as well as other essential military knowledge. There’s some sort of humour and pride among them that they are training a Crownsguard the Kingsglaives’ ways, let alone the Lord Shield’s daughter. Though let it be known that Amicitias definitely live up to their reputation. Iris’ skills are right on par with any soldier starting out.

When they finally meet at one of the hunters outposts, Crowe was surprised to find Iris fitting in comfortably with Libertus and the Glaives. The Deputy mage already fond of the young Amicitia after hearing about the fiasco along the grapevine, even more so after seeing her attitude and tenacity on the battlefield. 

They get on well. Too well. Crowe and Iris. The latter whom he had come to build a close friendship and becoming sort of another little sister he has come to care for. He certainly did not expect these two women he had come to cherish as much as his own family would end up hitting off so quickly as he watches carefully both Crowe and Iris lay waste to an Imperial Base alongside their fellow glaives. All of them running high on adrenaline.

Fate works in strange ways. If someone were to tell young Libertus years ago he would one day leave his broken Clan and ruined homeland, becoming one of the leaders of the Lucian military, he would laugh and tell you to take a walk. Gaining a clan sister and battle sister on the mainland in all but blood, one braiding his braids while the other cooking his family’s recipes surrounded by his kinsmen and comrades? The burly Galahdian would probably toss them into the Eastern Ocean immediately without a word.

Fate certainly is strange.

——-

[Kingsglaives Command Message Channel 3-1]

[Nyx 9:20am] where you at switch on the comms channel dumbass 

[Libs 9:21am] reporting back to C.C Base. y?

[Nyx 9:21am] Gladiolus is back and get ur ass ready since guessing we have a 3 way Amicitia family fight to break up later by the looks of things

[Nyx 9:21am] Quite ballsy lately eh big guy

[Libs 9:22am] STFU. Also btw, since i am getting dishonourably discharged then means i am no longer a deputy?

[Nyx 9:23am] [ √ message seen ]

———

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.

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Bonus:

Years later, at the Mainland Port before leaving for Galahd, Libertus will bid farewell to Lucis. After officially welcoming Crowe into his Clan as a sister. Though the woman had chosen to remain in Lucis as the new Captain of the Kingsglaive. While promises are made by a tearful Iris hugging him tight, crying like she did that night by the haven, though her tears now are for different reasons entirely. The Amicitia makes sure to keep in touch and promises that she would come visit the Galahdian once Galahd is ready, her treasured friend and mentor. 

As the ferry departs, the Galahdian lets his mind wander while watching the mainland become a speck in the horizon. Once without a purpose, often going along with the whims of the people around him. He realises he had eventually found his strength to stand his own ground, paving his way forward, becoming an entirely a different man he once envisioned unexpectedly. A good sort of different.

In the near future, when he would once again return to Insomnia, the Galahdian would instead be the one to ugly sob at Iris’ wedding. Well, thats another story of its own.

——-

art here

Song for this ficlet: FFXV OST Up For The Challenge

[nyxdelanuit]

Feral (Tendou x F! Reader)

Hey! Here’s Nyx being super late with a collab fic for the Haikyuu Headquarters Collab, which can be found here! 

Special shout outs to @the-great-queen and @fallingintoimagination for getting me hooked on Feral Tendy <3 and @mammonrights for bein a heathen with me.

Warnings: Biting, Marking, Slight breeding kink cause it’s me, A lil bit of predator/prey play, and NSFW abound~ 

You quite enjoyed the calm, lazy weekends where you curled up with a book or movie, ignoring the outside world and the coming work week. The same couldn’t be said for your friend, currently draped over your lap, whining.

 "I'm so bored, let's do something fun." Tendou looked up at you with pleading eyes as you kept watching your show. You were only a few episodes out from the season finale, and you weren't too keen on stopping now.

 "I am having fun, Sa-to-ri." You grinned, glancing down at him, "It's not my fault you don't have any taste." He pouted at you, the teasing something that had thrived in your friendship.

 “It’s not my fault I’ve already read the whole series before the show started. I could tell you what happens if you want.” Your attention turned fully to him, what he wanted all along.

 "You wouldn't dare, Tendou." You tried to keep your gaze hard on him, despite the growing grin on his face.

“Ooh, pulling out the last name, that hurts.” He put a mocking hand over his chest. “And I wouldn’t have to ruin the whole series for you if you just entertained me a little.” You huffed, pausing the show and giving him an unamused glare.

"Fine, and what do you want to do exactly?" He sat up, leaning in close to you. You could feel the heat of your face at his nearness but kept up your mask. It wasn't new for you and Tendou to flirt like this, but it never failed to excite you.

 “Would you believe me if I said you?” The coy grin he wore made you roll your eyes.

 “No.” You turned your face away, trying to calm your desperate heartbeat before you gave him more ammunition to tease you. His calloused fingers slid under your chin, bringing your face back to his gaze.

 "I think you're lying… you want it, don't you?" You bit your tongue softly, trying to weigh your options. Tendou would notice right away if you lied, and you wouldn't dare tell him the truth, that you had been dreaming of the day he'd finally make a real move.

 It seemed Tendou was especially impatient that day, pressing a light kiss to your lips before retreating, hopping off your couch to stretch. “Let’s play tag.”

 You were snapped out of your stupor at the kiss by his words, wondering if you had possibly imagined it. "W-what?" His eyes drifted to yours with a predatory smile.

 “Tag. If you can keep away from me for… hmm… fifteen minutes, you win. We keep watching your show, no more complaints from me.” You furrowed your brows.

 “Satori, we’re not kids anymore. I figured you’d want to go out to a club or something, why tag?”

 “Cause it’s fun. Live a little, play tag with me.” He shrugged and held out a hand, which you reluctantly took, pulling you to your feet.

 “Fine, and what happens if I lose?” His eyes glittered with a curious mischievousness, and you were almost tempted to pull your hand away.

 "I'll think of something. Now for the rules. No leaving the house, no locking doors. I'll give you a 30-second head start. You can hide if you really want to." His grin only grew as he spoke, showing his excitement for your little game. You rolled your eyes again, ignoring the spark of adrenaline that ran through your veins. "Sound good to you?"

 "Yeah, sure, Satori."

 "Then… Run." The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was how a rabbit felt staring into the eyes of a wolf. Once he started counting, you were pulled from your frozen state, turning and bolting down the hallway. You could still hear him, his singing echoing through your house as he counted down the seconds to his hunt. With no more than a handful of seconds left, you crept into the ancient wardrobe in your room, thankful you hadn't had the time to fill it properly. You bit at your lip, trying to get the door to close from the inside was harder than you expected.

 Your breath hitched as you heard his footsteps, far too close for you to fiddle with the door anymore. You pressed yourself into the dark of the wardrobe, hoping it was enough to conceal you as his shadow snuffed out what remained of the light.

 Your hands flew to your mouth, holding in your breath along with the whine that threatened to escaped as he paused in front of you.

 “Come on out sweetness, maybe I’ll make your punishment something we’ll both enjoy?” His voice was deeper than usual, a darkness you’d only caught glimpses of before now on full display. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were, the heat pooling in your stomach as he lingered. Something about the tension, the anticipation of being found was a drug to you.

 He slowly moved away, something you only noticed by the return of the light. You sat for several long moments, trying to hear past the blood rushing in your ears as you peeked through the door. The room in front of you was empty, and he could no longer be heard. If you wanted to run, now would be the time. Cautiously, you pushed open the door, creeping out one leg at a time until you released a shuddering breath, straightening your clothes.

 "You should probably run now, little lamb." The voice made you jump, even more so the sight of Tendou, leaning against the door you had just open, a malicious grin splitting his face in two. You ran without any thought, slamming doors behind you as you tried and failed to remember your house's layout. Every step, every labored breath you took, you could hear him nearing. You could feel him hot on your heels, to the point where the doors were no longer falling closed behind you, merely bouncing off his extended arm, slamming against the wall.

 You had made a mistake somewhere in your panic. A room with no other doors, no easy means of escape, just you and Tendou standing at separate sides of the room. All you could do was watch as he closed in, your heart jack-hammering against its cage. The only way out was around, to fake out the former Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa.

 Breathe in, breathe out- glance to the side, opposite of where you were planning of going. Your mind was working faster than you thought possible, acting on the barest hint of thoughts as Tendou's hands neared you. You ducked, somehow slipping through the narrow escape between his arm and his body. Your lungs burned as you ran, the peals of laughter echoing throughout the halls as the hunt continued. How long could fifteen minutes be?

 Each step, each ragged breath sent a fire through your veins. Maybe Tendou had the right idea, when was the last time you felt this alive? Slipping through doorways, skidding along tiled floors, nervous laughter seeping through your lips as his cackling rang in your ears. Faster, quicker, just seconds ahead of his hands, you ran. You couldn't hide, not anymore, all you could do was hope that you were faster than him until the clock ran out.

 You somehow found yourself back where you started, the timer of his phone counting down the last seconds of your game. You had won, you knew it, just a few more seconds…

 A shrill scream tore through your throat; you had let yourself get distracted. Calloused fingers wrapped around you, holding your arms tight to your chest as the alarm rang through the house. You had almost won… Tendou pulled you flush against his chest, every inch of him wrapped around you, pressed against your back.

 “Too bad, little lamb.” He taunted, his lips brushing against your ear. “You were so close.” You hadn’t even noticed the whine that escaped you until you heard him chuckle, low and dark. “You stopped there near the end… did you want me to catch you that bad?” You shook your head, belatedly noticing how his hands sunk into the plush of your chest. “You can deny it to yourself all you want, but your body says differently. You haven’t even tried to slip away.” He moved his head to brush his lips against your neck, the barest brushes of skin. There was no fighting the shiver of pleasure that ran down your spine or the gasp that slipped past your lips.

 You resisted even less when he turned you, pressing your chests together as his head dipped to kiss you hungrily. You opened to his whims easily, tongue and teeth clashing with no other thought than the hunger that burned deep in your stomach. When had your hands buried themselves in his? When had he stopped kissing you in favor of trailing bites down the length of your neck? It was happening so quickly, and yet it seemed as if this had been building up as long as you could remember. He devoured you, as he did so many other things. Headfirst into his passion with little regard to anything else as his rough hands slid under your shirt, quickly pulling it up and over your head. He barely pulled away to pull his own off by the collar, whipping it to the abyss that existed outside of you and him.

 Throughout the house, he led you, a trail of clothes littering your path. He was nothing but a storm of lips and teeth, marking every inch of skin he could reach, claiming you as his prize. He hadn't even stripped you of your underwear, but the way he was grinding against you, laving his tongue over the deep imprints of his teeth had you writhing for release. Finally, a single finger dipped between you, dragging over your covered folds and feeling the dampness that made the fabric cling to your skin.

 “Pretty little lamb, I’m going to destroy you.” He chuckled, his breath falling heavily against your neck. You nodded, already a whining mess.

 “Please, Satori… I want you, please.” Was that your voice? You hardly recognized it, buried beneath all the lust and longing weighing down the tone.

 He spoke mockingly as he slowly pulled the last scrap of fabric down your legs. “I knew you wanted me, little lamb… but I didn’t mind playing our little game to make you admit it. You opened your mouth to refute him, to say something in your defense, but the only thing that came out was a sinful moan as his teeth sunk into your thigh, marking you so close to where you wanted him.

 Words failed you, lost in the haze that was Tendou Satori, and all you could do was pull him in closer, desperate to feel him inside of you. He fit against you so well, the feeling of his lips on yours was a drug like no other. You melted against his touch, conforming to his body as he hitched your leg high up on your hip. His touch on your hip was firm, holding you still as he teased at your entrance, watching your face with a sadistic smile.

 Ever so slowly, he sunk in, his mouth open as he let the softest of groans escape him while he watched you writhe as you tried to push down further on his length. "You know, little lamb… I never said what I would take as my prize…" You attempted to clear your cloudy eyes, focusing on his gluttonous face.

 "I thought this…" A sharp thrust, bottoming Tendou's length inside you brought your sentence to a breathy end, but you tried to continue on, "I thought I was your prize?"

 “Hmm… but you gave yourself over to me without me even asking… I guess I’ll just have to cum in you as my prize.” It shouldn’t sound so appealing falling from his lips, but all you could do was keen out, desperate for him to take you in any and all ways he wanted. He won you fair and square.

 “Please, Satori, whatever you want, just move!” His smile darkened, a calloused finger coming up to brush lightly against your cheek.

 “How can I resist when you beg so nicely for it?” With that last word, his hands returned to your hips, holding on in a bruising grip as he pulled out slowly, watching the tears gather on your lashes as you pleaded for him to move faster. As soon as the tip traced your entrance, something in him snapped. He bucked into you wildly, pulling a loud moan from your lungs.

 Gone was your lazy, teasing friend that you spent calm Sundays with, replaced with a hungry animal, intent on devouring you from the inside out. Each roll of his hips pushed you further from your thoughts, focusing only on the carnal way he hunched over you, sucking deep marks into your skin to remind you long after this was over of what he turned you into. Just a mewling, desperate mess, falling apart underneath him, pliant to his every touch. And touch he did, imprints of his hands seemed to be carved into your hips, the ghost of his teeth in every bite he laid on your skin still stinging, only heightening the pleasure of his cock pistoning within you.

 The pleasure became overwhelming, and you dug your nails into his shoulder, desperate for anything to ground yourself in this moment. It only spurred him on further, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as you marked him in kind. Some small stake that showed you weren't just a passive participant in his game. You pulled him close with the grip you held on his shoulders, panting heavily on his shoulder before you bit into his neck, mirroring one of the many marks he had left on you. The whine you pulled from his throat only made you moan against his skin as he pushed your legs higher, trying to find a better angle to sink into you as you savagely attacked his neck.

 You only pulled away when you felt the peak growing impossibly close, a breathy moan of his name bringing him back to himself.

 “Please, Satori, I’m so close.” You let the tears spill from your lashes, twin rivers framing your face as you stared up at him, pleading. “Fill me up, please.” He groaned lowly, pulling back just enough to sneak a hand between your bodies. Those stupid, calloused fingers you had grown to appreciate so quickly deftly found your clit, sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and he relentlessly assaulted the swollen nub. You felt him start to twitch inside you as you tensed, finally cresting in pleasure.

 He was thrown violently into his orgasm as you cried out his name, clenching your fists around his shoulders once more. Each thrust as he worked through his release brought you closer to over-stimulation, the added friction on the edge of pain as he filled you.

 The house was finally quiet, the only sound coming from your intermingling breaths, heavy and satisfied. He collapsed next to you, content to relax against your pillows as you processed all that had just happened. When you remained silent, he turned his eyes to you with a grin. “We can go watch that show now.”

 You couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that escaped you. “After all that, you want to go watch that show?” He nodded, smirking.

 "Yeah, why not?" He sat up, stretching out his shoulders, and giving you a good view of the angry red lines you had left all over him.

 “So… do we just pretend this didn’t happen?”

 "I don't know what you mean, I thought I made it pretty clear." You wished you could see his face as he got up for even a hint of how he felt.

 “What do you mean, Satori?”

 “I won you.” He sung, “I marked you inside and out. You’re mine now.” He turned with a mischievous grin, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the outcome he wanted when he walked through your door this morning. Still, you stood, walking over to him and running a hand down his chest.

 “You did, didn’t you?” With your confirmation, his grin softened to a more sincere smile, ducking to place a kiss to your cheek.

 “So, time for your show, little lamb?”

[ymaohoh]

Of Daggers and Moonlight - Part III - Ficlet.

Elain confronts Rhys about that Solstice night. He is not expecting her emerging powers.

(A/N: Previous parts can be found here and here.)

Word count: 2,668

No rating

Elain was furious. Her hands were balled into fists at her side and she couldn’t stop them from shaking. She could feel the sting as her nails bit into her palms.

She didn’t get angry very often. Out of all three Archeron sisters she was the one who was easiest to pacify and to soothe back into a good temper. She’d been that way ever since she could remember; it was the reason she was their late father’s favourite child and the one who was always doted on. She was naturally a warm person who wanted to get along with others, despite their faults. Nesta was the fighter, the one who would bare her teeth and lead a charge. Feyre always fell somewhere in the middle.

After the Cauldron she had been angry. Angry that the Hybern soldiers had dragged her kicking and screaming from her bed in the middle of the night, angry that her mortal life had been ripped away from her, angry that her lover Greyson had turned his back on her for something she couldn’t help. She’d resented her new strange Fae body as it was a constant reminder of what she’d lost. It had taken a long time to feel some semblance of control over her new limbs and body. For a while she didn’t eat and shied away from nourishing her strange form.

She’d allowed herself to become a shell of her former self, partly just to spite fate and the blasted Cauldron.

But she’d gotten better slowly with help from her friends and family – the strange passionate assortment of Fae who laughed and defended one another. They had been Feyre’s family first but they’d since welcomed her with open arms too. Rhys had been one of the first to welcome her into his home, to offer that so needed hand of friendship. Of loyalty.

Rhys…

Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. The betrayal stung as sharply as a slap across the face.

She returned to the Townhouse to find Nuala and Cerridwen waiting for her in the hallway. Azriel had obviously forewarned them through whatever shadowy method of communication they had. To what purpose, she could only guess. To look after her? To comfort her? To warn her against seeking out Rhys? Perhaps they had been instructed to restrain her.

She thought of the shadowy wraiths as friends – were they merely his creatures? Befriending her purely on his command? She didn’t think she could bear any more duplicity tonight. Her heart felt blackened by it.

Before either of them could speak she snapped, “I’m speaking to Rhys. Don’t even try and stop me.”

To their credit neither of them even blinked at the tone. Cerridwen summoned her blue cloak from the shadows and draped it securely around her shoulders. Her fingers were gentle as they tied the laces. Nuala reached over and took her hand. “If you are set on going tonight then I will take you there myself. You won’t be able to winnow there – the wards are too many. We know the ways around them though.”

Kindness and friendship shone on their faces and she felt a flicker of guilt for questioning them. They, at least, seemed to be on her side.

Nuala grasped her and winnowed her just outside the front doors of the river estate where Rhys, Feyre and Nyx dwelled. Before she turned to leave, Nuala gently squeezed her shoulder for reassurance.

“They have no power over you,” she murmured. “None of them do, understand?”

Elain nodded but her eyes were already fixed on the door. She heard her friend step back into shadow.

She stepped over the threshold and felt Rhys’s great power rise up to meet her. He’d obviously felt her the moment she and Nuala appeared on the property. In her anger she could feel her own peculiar power rise up to meet the challenge. Her hands began to glow with the now familiar silver mist.

She didn’t know how she did it and afterwards she would answer that her power had acted on its own accord. Her power seemed to leak from her hands and create a shield as she walked. It curled around her tenderly, protectively, like a shimmering bubble.

She found him in his office alone. Rhys was stood behind the desk expectantly. A pile of paperwork and reports were scattered in front of him and she could see that he’d been planning on a late night. Feyre was no doubt asleep already or tending to Nyx. She’d lost track of time in her anger.

Rhys took her in; the tear-stained cheeks, the narrow angry eyes, the hair that tumbled out of her usually neat long plait. As well as that, he felt the surprising amount of power that radiated from her. Her thin limbs were shaking as she held herself taut.

The dagger that she’d been so fiercely clutching onto clattered to the floor.

She saw worry etched on his handsome face – that and wonder.

“He told me everything, Rhysand,” she said quietly. She had never used such a cool tone with him before but then she had never needed to.

Worry at once turned into pity. Rhys sighed and he ran a hand through his dark hair. She saw him glance out the window and into the darkness outside.

“He’s worried. As soon as you arrived and I felt your power I put a shield around the entire house. He’s asking me to let him in. Do you want me to?”

“No. I’m here to speak to you alone.”

She felt it then, the tiny pressure tapping against her mind like a claw. Rhys was asking if he could enter her thoughts to find out what exactly was making her so furious.

With a hiss, her own power swelled up in defiance and struck. The iron walls of her mind slammed shut and threw him back. She saw him flinch.

And then, miraculously, she was inside his head. She saw clearly the conversation on Solstice as it unraveled before her. She was there in the same room as Rhys and Azriel all those weeks ago. She watched as Rhys pulled rank as High Lord and ordered her love (her former love?) to let her go. She watched as Azriel snarled and growled. For a fleeting moment he tried to defend himself and to defend her…and then he swallowed it and disappeared into his shadows. She thought about her previous words to Azriel on the hilltop; 'for all your pretty words, you can’t have really felt anything if that’s all it took for you to give up on us'. She’d been right.

She heard herself sob and tried to pull back from the scene. She was back in the river estate office. She found Rhys watching her closely.

“I see you’ve been making progress with your lessons.”

She ignored him.

“You hate me.”

“I do.”

“I see,” he said smoothly. “You’ve already seen what happened. Can I explain my reasonings at least?”

“What is there to say? You decided something behind my back and didn’t care about my feelings or wishes. You didn’t even speak to me first!”

“There’s more to this than feelings, Elain.”

“Right…You’re afraid of upsetting Lucien and insulting the Autumn Court. You’re afraid he’ll make trouble if he finds out I want …I wanted…someone else. And because of that, you commanded Azriel to stay away from me as his High Lord.”

He held his hands up. He was speaking so gently, so softly, like she was some creature he was trying to tame. “My job as High Lord is to protect this court and my family…”

“Our family,” she suddenly snapped. “You’re supposed to my brother now. How could you?”

In her rage she didn’t notice the way the air around them crackled with electricity or the way the ground beneath their feet trembled.

“You were born mortal so you can’t possibly imagine the importance we Fae give a mating bond. We hear bedtime stories about it when we’re children, dream about it when we grow older. It’s not an arranged marriage like mortals know,” he added. “It’s fate. To come between two mates is something we Fae are born knowing is wrong. It’s unthinkable. Forbidden. Azriel couldn’t do it.”

“How do you know? You didn’t let him make that choice. You just commanded.”

And he obeyed you.

“You and Lucien…”

“There is no me and Lucien!” she suddenly shouted. “I don’t want him.”

Her powers swept across the room like a wave; shoving the heavy furniture back against the walls. The delicate painting of Feyre behind his desk fell to the floor with a crack as the frame broke. Elain saw this and began to tremble. She found herself falling to her knees.

The pain she was feeling hurt so badly. It was twisting inside of her like a knife and at last she began to try and reign it in. Even in her rage, she knew she didn’t want to hurt Rhys or anyone else. However, her powers seemed to be flowing from her like a broken dam.

Rhys knelt down before her and his gaze was fixed on her face. He reached out and she let him break through the shield to take hold of her hands. The feel of them seemed to anchor her back in place.

“Master it. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

She bit her lip and tried to do as he said.

Slowly, she felt the world beneath her settle. Her heart was still pounding but she could think straight again.

“Some people wait their entire lives for a mating bond and they die unlucky,” Rhys murmured.

“I don’t want a mate. I have had everything taken away from me, Rhys. My entire life was ripped away from me and I couldn’t do anything about it. And then the very same Cauldron decided to force me on someone I don’t even know…like some broodmare, ready for the taking.” She was crying in earnest as she spoke. She could taste the salt on her lips.

He winced.

“Lucien may be a good male,” she went on. There was no anger in her voice anymore – only sadness. “Feyre says he is. But Rhys, I don’t give a damn. He’s not my choice, and that means everything to me. I see you and Feyre and I see Nesta and Cassian. I am so happy that you’ve found one another and that you’re mated and in love. I can see how happy the bond makes you all….but if Feyre loved another – would you really force her into being with you? Against her will? Would Cassian?”

“Never.”

“Then why am I different? Do my wishes count for less?”

“Of course they don’t…”

“I don’t want the bond. I will never be happy with it because it’s not my choosing. I would rather die then be forced into something with someone I don’t want.”

Her words made his dark eyes soften. “Would Azriel make you happy?”

Would he? He was the only one who had ever really seen her for who she truly was. And yet he had abandoned her.

But then why did he teach her how to fight? How to winnow? Why did he visit every other night without fail to teach her how to defend herself?

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I can’t forsee that. But I know that what I feel – felt - for him was real. And even if somehow we mended all of this and made a go of it…even if we didn’t work out…that time together would still mean more to me than any mating bond because it would be real. It would be mine.”

Her throat felt raw with emotion and she thought she felt his grip tighten on hers.

Before he could answer, however, Feyre entered the wrecked office.

One look at her face showed that she had already picked at Rhys’s mind and heard everything. She was wearing a dressing gown above her nightclothes and Elain felt immediately sorry; she’d no doubt awoken her sister with her shouting. Feyre quickly took in the sight of them both on the floor and came to a halt beside Elain but she was staring at her mate. They were silent for a moment as they wordlessly communicated down the bond and then Rhys, at last, nodded.

“We will talk about this later,” Feyre promised him coolly. She then turned to Elain and gently brushed a strand of hair back. At her gentle touch, Elain felt a rush of tranquility flow through her body. She wondered if Feyre was using her Dawn powers to heal her sadness and to calm her. She didn't have the energy to fight it. “We won’t force this bond on you. Of course it’s your choice.”

Elain sighed and sank back. Her body, a moment ago taut with momentum, sagged under Feyre’s influence. The shimmering shield around her seemed to vanish now that there was peace in her mind though her hands were still glowing.

She suddenly felt so very tired but she knew she needed to ask one more thing.

“Then tell me how to decline it.”

“Declining a bond is not to be taken lightly…” Rhys answered her evenly. He exchanged a look with Feyre who was rubbing Elain’s shoulder. “You would not be able to change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

He nodded once more. His shoulders were slumped but the look in his eyes was honest as he considered her. “Then I’ll show you how to do it. I swear it.”

“We’ll begin right away,” Feyre added. “But I think we should alert Lucien before you do it. He should know what’s been decided.”

“That’s fair,” Elain agreed quietly. “I will write to him.”

“It may be painful... for him, at least. We will need to help him.” she added. “It’s late now, however, and you both need rest…Elain, do you want to stay here? You’re exhausted.”

Elain nodded and let Feyre help her to her feet. Her feet seemed to need a minute to remember how to support her weight. Before her sister could lead her from the room, however, Rhys spoke up once more.

“I want you to be happy,” he said. “I did you a great disservice and I’m sorry. I will do whatever I can for you as your brother. Always.

She appreciated his words and on any other day may have welled up at the sentiment but she felt too drained for any more emotions tonight. However, she managed to give him the briefest glimmer of a smile that he returned in full.

When she awoke the next morning she felt as though had had completed a sprint. Her body was exhausted but her mind began to race with her new purpose. She would learn how to break the mating bond between her and Lucien and would finally be able to do as she wished (in the eyes of others; she herself had always been free). She knew it would be difficult…she knew it would be one of the hardest things she would have to do…and she may even face criticism from those who did not understand. She couldn’t guess as to how Lucien himself would react but she suspected he might too be relieved that their shared misery would come to an end.

That nagging feeling in her ribs would vanish. It would be cut free.

She knew she would have to face Azriel someday about her decision and she knew it would be complicated and possibly messy. They would have to unpick a few things before she could forgive and forget. She knew that deep down she wanted the chance to love him fiercely and freely. She wanted to hold his hand in the sunshine. There was time enough for that though. She had the rest of her life, after all.