#evryn

A/N:

•Didn’t click that I haven’t disclosed this cross -let alone interactions in public until now. God when’s the last time I did OC/canon content

•Rough ideas for their adventure within the MHA-verse have been thought out, incl. unique Nomu encounters to ofc bonding with certain set of characters

•Like in the OCverse, they gain power upgrades upon exploration, battles, and bonding

•They shift between underground hero and vigilante under branching paths + potential romance options

Ashlae walked right past Luna without a word, her grip on the duffle bag’s straps tightening. She pretended not to notice the huff of frustration from the pinkette, heading straight for the stairs instead of engaging. This morning she’d been informed that they’d all be moving into Jaxon Mile’s compound until they could find a more permanent solution- and Luna had caught sight of the ring Ashlae had started wearing again.

She’d walked out when Luna asked about it, locking herself in the bathroom until the Hell Goddess left her rooms.

And now they were all locked inside the modest three story mansion, barely modernized, and half of the couples were either actively fighting or not speaking to each other.

Three hours. She’d give it three hours until it all went to pure chaos- especially given that half of their party couldn’t use their powers or else the Fun Police (as Astor called them) would come crashing down in a thunderstorm of reprimands.

In her ear, Logan spoke. “Your blood pressure spiked just now, are you alright?”

Ashlae lowered her head as she ascended the staircase, the scent of Luna’s perfume still accelerating her heart. “Logan? Take a nap.”

“Yes ma’am.”

-

“Thank you, again,” Nicolette mumbled as she leaned back against the counter, arms crossing under her chest. Her eyes trailed her brothers- all three of them- from over the breakfast bar and into the living room. Talyn sat on the couch beside Alas, no doubt droning on and on about the book that laid open in his lap. From where she stood, Nicolette watched as the young redhead nodded with enthusiasm, no doubt struggling to keep up with the information pouring out of her mate’s mouth.

Wyn walked over looking out of place in a long sleeve flannel rolled up to the elbow, carrying a cold beer in his hand. He took the seat beside Alas, turning his attention to whatever topic Talyn was lecturing on.

Evryn had taken to reclining on the window seat, earbuds pounding out a beat Nicolette could hear even across the room as he stared out at the setting sun. Mattea was nowhere to be seen, causing the raven’s brows to furrow. It was so unusual to see one without the other that she was starting to worry.

Jaxon drew her attention by offering a mug of warm tea, flashing a grin he’d had planted on his face since the night before, when she’d told him the news. This morning she’d confirmed it with two little plus signs lighting up the piss sticks.

They were all in civilian clothes- all of their robes and crowns left behind. Nicolette was still getting used to the tight fitting denim shorts and white long sleeve top, had even left her dark hair to fall unplaited down to her hips.

She watched as her husband pinned her to the counter once she’d taken the mug, a hand laying flat on the marble surface on each side of her waist. He looked so handsome that it tightened something in her chest- his light brown hair left messy, stubble growing more and more each day into a beard she only half-teased him about shaving off. Green eyes lowered to her lips a second before he leaned in for a long kiss.

“‘Love you,” he breathed after pulling away, pecking her cheek before nuzzling his face in her neck. She liked him like this, she realized behind a reluctant grin. Her happy husband and his attentions. “How do you feel?” 

Her lips relaxed into a lazy grin of her own as he pulled away only to rest their foreheads together. “I’m fine. A little tired.” 

“Mmm.“ She felt his hand come up to flatten against her stomach. 

Nicolette turned away with a nervous chuckle, shooting him a look over the top of her tea. “No one knows yet,” she reminded him, struggling to chastise the shifter when he looked at her like that. 

Pride was rolling off the lion in waves, warming her insides until she couldn’t help but return his smile.

-

Astor dumped her bag at the foot of the bed, challenging her Berserker with a saucy grin. “Not enough rooms- Amelie said we’re gonna have to double up.”

“If you’re going to lie, please don’t include me,” said twin challenged as she walked by the bedroom door.

“Does that mean we’re not doubling up?” Braxis asked as he trailed behind her, two duffle bags thrown over his shoulder and a third in the grip of his other hand.

“Of course we’re doubling up.”

“Nice.”

The man laid on the ground, one hand gripping the gunshot wound that ripped through his shoulder. His black hat laid to his left, out of reach, revealing the color of his hair.

Everyone in the room immediately locked eyes on the strange man’s hair except his companions, slowly coming to their own conclusions.

But while each and every royal stood still as stone, the princess screamed. High pitched, blood-curdling, one long, drawn out scream. The sound of grief in it’s truest form. If there had been any color to her skin, she might have blanched as her hands came up to curl before her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sight of her friend on the ground, blood pooling behind him as he groaned. Talyn noticed then that her eyes weren’t completely grey like his, like his families and every other Dark Angel he’d ever met- but… hazel brown.

In her panic, her wings shot free. Talyn immediately understood- high emotions could do that, if the angel wasn’t properly trained or matured. But the back of her dress ripped in a horrible sound, sending wings, the size of which made his own look small in comparison, shooting from her skin.

Astor, Amelie, Luna, Evryn, Talyn all dropped their jaws as they stared and stared. The princess ended her shriek of terror- likely from running out of air. She stood there, hunched over her friend, her heaves of breath shaking her small body and the enormous wings behind her.

“Well,” Jake said from beside Nicolette. The Queen of Angels seemed unfazed by the scene before her, still holding the smoking gun. Her husband, so cavalier, rested his elbow on her shoulder and cast the visitors a wry grin. “‘Didn’t see that coming. At least my cats are predictable.”

Talyn watched on in mixed horror and amazement as the princess knelt beside the bleeding tower of a man. “Wyn- Wyn! Wyn, say something!” Her eyes were so huge, he could see the whites all around.

But her wings…

Finally, the whitette grimaced, turning on his side. “I’m fine, Alas.” His eyes focused enough to take her in- all of her. And he winced. “Your wings. I told you, you have to keep them in.”

Something familiar cascaded down the prince’s spine and without looking to his brother, he knew Evryn felt it too. Somewhere, deep in his soul, he recognized that voice.

He knew that voice. The voice that belonged to a stranger.

For the first time since opening fire, Dri’guhl Nicolette Blythe-Demmekke, the Queen of All Angels, spoke. “You have five minutes to leave my realm. I deny safe passage, I deny asylum. You-”

“Please,” the man wheezed, struggling to sit up. He coughed, his hand whitening from the pressure he set to his wound. “Please, she-”

“Do not,” she shrieked, cocking her gun for another bullet to enter it’s chamber, “speak to me. Never. Speak. To me.”

Something like a veil fell in the man’s eyes as he shared a long look at the Queen. The woman they’d come with, the third of their party, slowly- carefully, stepped between them both. “I seek asylum for Princess Alasdair of Arandelle. We-”

“No!” The princess whipped her head around to the many faces surrounding her. Talyn took a moment to see through her eyes, to let the true horror she must feel seep through him. “They stay- please, they’re my friends.”

Friends. As if they were the only ones she had.

‘Hello, mate.’

And just like that, Talyn felt his allegiance shift. Turning in place, he hardened his face as he addressed his sister. “Granted.”

Jake’s soft chuckle of amusement echoed as Nicolette’s sharp, grey eyes snapped to his. “What?!” Her voice was hard, royal.

“As Dri’guhl Talyn Blythe-Demmekke, I grant asylum to Princess Alasdair and her companions for the night.” He held his sister’s outraged stare, forcing himself not to look away. “You brought us home,” he continued in a voice so even, so clear, he almost didn’t recognize it as his own. “It’s time to stop treating us as your little brothers, Nico. We are your Princes.”

“I am your Queen!”

“As an acting member of this family, I have the right to employ asylum to anyone I want. Taking that right away strips me of my title as Dri’guhl. Is that something you want to do tonight?”

Astor’s snark whisper could be heard from where he stood; “Maybe she shouldn’t have sent him to a Brotherhood that holds learning above sex.”

For the longest time, Nicolette stared Talyn down. Moments ticked by, heartbeats by the thousands, before he spoke again. “Keeping us in the dark is no better than what Dad and Papa did to you. If you die tomorrow, Evryn and I know nothing.”

In the end, it was her husband that reached for her weapon, and Nicolette let him take it without a fight. Without taking her eyes from her brother, she grated, “He does not sleep in this castle.”

Exasperated, Talyn bit out, “Then where does he sleep, Nico-”

Turning to her husband, Nicolette bit out, “Show him to Temple.” And Talyn felt his blood run cold.

Even the beggars on their streets were granted poorhouses. At temple, there was no one, and nothing.

Jake’s eyes softened at his queen, and the most amused grin lifted his lips as he fell into a mocking bow. “As you wish, wife.” Nicolette glared at him before facing her siblings each.

“Meet me in Da’s study in ten minutes-”

“I want to go with him.”

Everyone turned to again take in the pale, frail princess. Her lips trembled, so plump and full, as she stared up at the queen. Her magnificent wings, brown in their color even in the lights of the chamber, pulled straight at the attention.

“Please. Let me go with him.” Nicolette only nodded before turning her back on them all.

Talyn fisted his hand in the material of his overcoat, tugging it as best he could despite having just been very rudely woken only moments ago, the rest of the way up his arm. Gods above, he’d been ripped out of bed without time to properly dress.

Nicolette had found him in his usual spot, sprawled out in his bed with a book resting on his bare chest. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when she slammed his door open, not even bothering to knock.

She’d ordered him up and on his feet, cutting off his protests with a sharp glare reserved for non-family members. So Talyn had done the next best thing; grabbed his long blue overcoat and followed where she led.

Their next stop had been Evryn’s room, where they both found the youngest of the Demmekke royals- surprisingly- still awake. He hadn’t even dressed for bed, instead leaning his back against the open door of the balcony that occupied Mattea Cross.

Nicolette froze when she caught sight of the blonde, and while the twins exchanged glances, the women assessed each other.

“Well,” Nicolette finally said. “Where are those fucking whips when I need them?” Before she’d even finished, two whips of pure, black fire appeared at the hips of Mae’s leather trews. The demon hopped down from her place on the balcony railing, following the boys as they trailed Nicolette down the hallway.

It took Talyn a moment to realize they were heading to the great hall. “Nic?”

“Hush.”

“Nico, what’s going on? Are we being invaded?”

The Angelic Queen barely turned her head to address the demon in the back of their small party. “Have you reached ou-”

“I already called them. They’re on their way.” In the face of Nicolette’s icey panic, Mattea’s soft, emotionless voice was almost too eerie. Talyn sidled closer to his sister on instinct, and tried not to notice Evryn doing the exact opposite.

“Should we have weapons?” Evryn asked Talyn in a soft whisper. “Mae has weapons. Shouldn’t we have weapons?”

Unlike his fathers, Talyn didn’t believe in sleeping with a pistol under his pillow. He’d just begun scanning the map of the castle in his mind for pathways that could take them into the armory when Nicolette- his sweet, beautiful, always calm and strategic sister who was nearly two heads shorter than them- tugged the many skirts of her gown up to the thigh, revealing skin-tight leggings with built in holsters for all sorts of weapons. She palmed a Beretta ‘92 before letting the material fall back into place mid-stride.

Talyn stared in gaping horror as he realized his sister was a walking arsenal.

Evryn shouldered his way through to get arm in arm with Nicolette, but she shoved him behind her as they approached the large double doors. “Who’s here? Who’s invading? Is it-”

“Worse.” Without turning back, Nicolette extracted two more smaller handguns from the other leg and handed them to each of her brothers. Talyn tried not to acknowledge the warmth of the metal as Mattea took up beside his sister, unraveling her whips. “Wings out- now. And stay behind me.”

Just as all three angels unleashed their wings, Nicolette shoved hard with both hands to open the double doors.

Talyn Demmekke could only stare at the three beings standing in the middle of the great hall. The first was hard to miss- as she was spinning in circles and giggling up at the ceiling with her arms spread wide in the movement. Her hair was a tangle of glossy red, too bright for his taste, and unevenly curled as if it had just been let down after being bound all day. Her dress was a flimsy thing made of silk and mesh- her undergarments were just about visible through the material.

The larger of the three stood off to the side, watching the spinning girl as if she were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. Tall enough to tower over even Talyn and Evryn, full grown angels in their own right, his back was stiff with his hands locked at the base of his spine, legs planted in line with his shoulders. A soldier’s pose, he realized. Dressed in stealth black, he had a pack that came across his chest with little black pouches attached.

Something told Talyn he didn’t want to know what was in those pouches.

Finally, a girl stepped out from behind the spinning woman, dressed similarly to the man. “Alas, please,” she hissed, just loud enough for the sound to carry. The words were drawn out, as if she tired of these games.

Slowly, the redhead came to a stop. She wavered in place, dizzy, until her eyes locked, not on Nicolette who had always been a powerhouse that deserved full attention, but on Talyn.

Her lips curled slightly at both ends, giving his heart a stutter-step at the sight. “Hello, mate,” she purred.

The word hadn’t left her lips before the two doors leading to separate chambers in the castle boomed open. To the left, Amelie, Astor, and Luna hurried out. To the right, Jake Mile- his sister’s husband- stumbled through.

And in the chaos of everyone’s immediate yelling, Talyn could only hear one word. Mate, mate, mate.

It felt true.

“Mae, what’s going on?” Luna. “Nicolette, is that a gun?” Amelie. “Hell- did I leave my knives at home? Shit!” Astor. “If you’re going to run around the castle shaking people out of their beds, you could at least roll over and give me a shove first, wife!” Jake.

It took Talyn a moment to realize why everyone had gone silent. Looking over, the heartbeat that had sped up thanks to the little vixen with red hair slowed to a stop at the sight of his sister taking aim.

“Listen to me, all of you.” Rue’s voice echoed in his mind. “You never, never aim unless you intend to shoot. And you never shoot unless you intend to kill, do you understand me?”

Talyn was a scholar- he’d chosen the life of the Brotherhood at 15 just as the others in his schooling had done. He’d agreed to look at every problem as if the solution was just within reach, to never jump the gun and settle the problems of people with a cool head and speech. After all, Yvva gifted her precious children with intelligence; it was the views of the Brotherhood to use that gift to the best of their abilities.

So, how he ended up between the business end of his sister’s handgun and the wiry woman- still a stranger!- he had no idea. But the room was quiet, and Nicolette stared through him as if she could still make out her target.

“Wife,” Jake whispered as he slowly walked towards the queen. “Put the gun down.”

This close, Talyn could see the tremble in his sister’s wrist as she unhitched the safety. “Talyn- move.”

“You can’t shoot her.” She’s my mate.

So slightly, Nicolette’s brows drew together. “What? I’m not going to shoot the princess.”

Behind him, the sound of another gun’s safety being switched off. “So, which one do you want dead?”

“A-Am?”

“Nico wants someone dead. Womb to tomb- tell me which one I’m shooting.”

“You’re not shooting anyone!” Talyn shouted. Hands in the air, his gun barely clutched, he put one foot behind the other.

Finally, the lion shifter came up behind Nicolette. His eerie hazel eyes synched with hers, finding her target, as he pulled back the veil of black hair and began murmuring in her ear. She didn’t respond, her gun still level with her finger on the trigger, through his words until something he said finally got to her.

Adjusting her grip on the Beretta, Nicolette rolled her neck before shouting out, “I’m not going to shoot Talyn! I’d never shoot my brother- but he can’t be here!”

Jake continued to mumble in her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder as his eyes locked with Talyns. A slight jerk of his chin to the raven sent Talyn moving back, but slightly to the left. Another jerk, another slight left. Jake nodded.

Pulling back, the shifter raised a hand to scrub against his bearded cheek. “Have at it then, wife.”