#Nyx's Quips

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

(VoxTek prompt of the week)

CW: Severe self depreciation, wishing to not exist (Reader) (unaliving mentions), mental health issues, angst, hurt, comfort.... Read at your own risk

Alastor x Reader

Alastor returns home from work and jovially calls out to you.

Alastor: "Darling, you'll never guess what happened today at the station... Are you there Dear? Is dinner done?"

Alastor walks into the kitchen to see you just standing with your back to him, he tilts his head in mild confusion but passes it off as you playing some sort of game. Seeing the pots and pans still on the stove unused.

Alastor: "Ah, looks like you've been too busy to cook up something delectable for us just yet, hmm?"

He takes off his jacket and tosses it over a chair before sauntering over to stand behind you.

Alastor: "I hope you're not planning on serving us cold leftovers, because I have a ravenous appetite. And I need it to be thoroughly sated, we're both going to require a lot of energy tonight!"

Alastor gently strokes your arms, feeling the softness of your skin beneath the fabric and rests his chin atop your head cheekily.

Alastor frowns when he feels tremors running through your frame, his usual smile dropping as soon as he hears the little sniffles escaping you from behind your hands covering your face.

Now alert to your distress, he rubs your arms, his heart racing utterly... Frightened, his mind racing of what could be wrong, he wasn't gone long, has someone hurt you... Or worse...

Alastor: "Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong? Did I worry you? I didn't mean to overwhelm you, we can have whatever you want for dinner, hell I'll make it myself. Please, little bird, let me see your face, are you okay?"

His gentle, warm hands guide you, you put up no resistance as he turns you around to face him, his expression soft with concern.

Alastor: "Tell me what's bothering you. Did someone harm you? Did I do something? We can work through this together? I'm here for you, no matter what, Dear, please just talk to me."

Alastor leans in closer, his warm breath caressing your cheek making it easy for your comfort if you would struggle with volume given that your sniffling and tears started to increase, his stomach dropping, eyes darting side to side as his face pales.

You: "I don't want to be here anymore... I wish I'd never been born..."

The whisper is deafening to Alastor, tears flooding down your face and your trembling increases exponentially, legs going so weak they buckle below you and you close your eyes, expecting the unforgiving pain of the hard floor meeting your already pained bones.

Alastor's heart clenches at the utter despair in your voice. His strong arms wrapping around you swiftly as he notices you wavering, pulling you close against his chest, stricken with fear and panic at what to do, how to help, he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of you, counting to five in his head and just feeling your soft body in his arms, your warmth, his heart breaking. How could you be feeling this way, that you'd want to leave him like that, is he not good enough? Is he so awful, you hate life so much you'd wish for the empty void of non existence?

Alastor: "Oh, Dove, please don't say that. You are so precious to me, and I can't imagine life without you."

Tears betray his own eyes for one of the few times in memory. He rocks you gently, stroking your hair as he tries to soothe your anguish, wanting to fix this, to get to the bottom of it, to rip out his own fucking guts that you don't feel like life is worth living with him.

Alastor: "We all have dark moments, but they pass. You're stronger than you realize. Just hold on to me, and let's get through this together."

Gazing down at your tear-streaked face, he tenderly tries to wipe away your tears with his thumb, his own eyes shimmering with his own agony, confusion and empathy. Desperate to fix things he can't stop talking.

Alastor: "I know things are tough right now, but please believe me when I say that I love you, flaws and all. Every part of you is perfect in my eyes. You're beautiful, inside and out." Kissing the top of your head.

Alastor: "Come on, let's sit down and talk about this. I'm here to listen and help however I can. We'll figure things out, I promise, I'm not going anywhere, you're not alone and never will be, Darling."

You: "I'm useless and pathetic..." Is all you manage to mumble out, lost in a whirlwind of your own self hatred, thoughts centering around memories of failure, regret and defeat.

Alastor's expression hardens slightly at your self-deprecating words, a flicker of outrage sparking within him.

Alastor: "Useless and pathetic? How dare you speak about yourself that way! How dare you insult the most amazing being I've ever laid eyes on, the one I love with all my soul."

His voice is low and intense, grip tensing around you, he practically growls in your ear.

Alastor: "You listen to me, little bird. You are so much more than those vile thoughts. You are kind, compassionate, and incredibly resilient. The fact that you're struggling with your emotions only proves how deeply you feel, and that is a rare and precious quality. One I find even I cannot match, but I can certainly admire and appreciate how lucky I am to have someone as wonderful as you in my life."

Alastor cups your face in his hands, forcing your to meet his gaze.

Alastor: "You are loved, cherished, and valued beyond measure. By me, certainly, but also by anyone who knows you, the real you, anyone worth anything would be able to see how wonderful you are. So cut out this self-loathing nonsense right now, you're mine and I would never choose someone who wasn't utter perfection!"

Leaning in, he captures your lips in a powerful kiss, pouring all his affection, fear and adoration into the embrace.

Alastor: "You are not worthless, my Darling. You are extraordinary, and don't you ever forget it."

Stubborn as ever however, even panting and with flushed cheeks you allow your thoughts to win out...

You: "I'm lazy... Bone idle, so fat it's just going to all get worse. I make excuses and lie to people I am afraid of, I don't do anything I'm supposed to do and it hurts the people around me who deserve better I'm a piece of shit, a bad person, I can't do anything right... Anything I'm supposed to... I-"

Alastor's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he listens to your litany of self-beratement. Before you finish, he pulls back slightly, his grip on your face gentle but firm.

Alastor: "Enough. That is enough of this toxic self-talk, Dearest. It's time someone told you the truth - you are not lazy, you're exhausted from carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You are NOT bone idle, you're overwhelmed and burnt out."

He takes a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully, holding you firm.

Alastor: "Your size does not define your worth, nor does it dictate your abilities. You are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for and even if you struggle we can do it together. And those excuses and lies? They're just coping mechanisms born from fear and insecurity, a lifetime of mistreatment."

Tilting your chin up, he searches your gaze intently, warm brown eyes piercing your soul.

Alastor: "You are not a piece of shit, my love. You're a complex, multifaceted individual struggling with demons most people can't even fathom. And you know what? That makes you brave, not flawed."

Leaning in once more, he presses a soft, reassuring kiss to your forehead. Wiping more and more tears from the whimpering mess in his arms.

Alastor: "You are not a bad person, and you don't need to do everything right. All you need to do is be true to yourself and keep moving forward, one step at a time. I'll be right here beside you, supporting you every inch of the way, you are still here and that's what I need, and I'm selfish so you aren't going anywhere without me."

An unexpected bubble of laughter escapes your throat taking you by surprise and Alastor's smile returns to his face, fondly brushing your hair away from your eyes. His expression pleading as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding.

Alastor: "My little Doe, you're not alone in this fight. I'm here to help you, to support you, to love you unconditionally. No matter what challenges you face, know that you always have a safe haven in me."

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Alastor: "We'll take things one day at a time, okay? There's no pressure, no expectations. Just focus on getting through each moment, and leave the rest to me."

Smiling encouragingly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers.

Alastor: "You're strong. Stronger than you realize. And with me by your side, well of course you can overcome anything that comes your way, haha!"

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he leans in to whisper in your ear, shivers running through your frame. Hot breath caressing the shell.

Alastor: "Now, why don't we order some takeout? I'm starving, and I think we both could use an indulgence. Oh and Darling do get presentable again, you look utterly obscene and if you don't put that smile back on your face, I'll find another way to do so myself."

As he tightens his hold on you to hold you together, his shirt utterly ruined by your tears and snot, you can't help but be filled with so much love for the man who you feel you never deserved... But won't let you balance the check so to speak, your own arms finally wrap around him in return.

Alastor: "You're mine, no refunds!"

A/N the presentable quip was a direct reference to his 'You're never fully dressed without a smile' quote, not a comment on how you look when crying.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

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@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[prythianpages]

I Put A Spell On You | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch Reader | summary: Feyre invites you to Rita's and you drink more than you can handle. Good thing your loving mate is there to take care of you.

warning: implied smut in the beginning, drinking, some fluff

a/n: this is based off this request. Thank you so much for sending! Hope you like it! I tried to incorporate a little bit of everything  ♥️ I feel like this can be read as a stand alone imagine.

“You’re staring.”

Your tone dances on the edge of light teasing as you meet Azriel’s gaze through your vanity mirror. You hook your earrings on and turn, lips curving up into a sly grin.

Azriel doesn’t look away. He’s sitting on the bed and uses his elbows to prop himself up as he leans backwards. His hazel eyes drink you in like a man who’s been deprived of water, appreciating every inch and curve of your form in that short dress of yours.

“How can I not when you’re dressed like that?”

“Like what?” You ask innocently. You miss the incredulous look he sends your way as you bend over to clasps the straps of your heels, inadvertently giving him a lovely view of your breasts.

 You’ll be the death of him, he thinks as he sucks in a sharp breath, wondering if he could convince you to stay home tonight. It’s been a month since you accepted the mating bond and the urge to have you and keep you by his side at all times is insatiable.

You struggle with the clasps of your heels, nearly stumbling over your own feet. Azriel rises from the bed and kneels down in front of you, clasping the straps with a graceful ease. His touch lingers on your ankles and he’s well aware of the inviting heat of your body. So are his shadows. They eagerly slither up your legs.

“Thank you.” 

“Of course,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your calf and then another, following after his shadows. His gentle touch both comforts and thrills you. He smiles against your skin when he feels your skin tingling and tightening with goosebumps. 

“Az,” you protest but the small moan that escapes your lips when he kisses his way up to your thigh betrays you. “We’re going to be late.”

“They’re not going to care or notice.” Azriel replies, reluctantly accepting that there’s no way he can convince you to stay in tonight. You’ve barely seen Feyre and tonight was all you could talk about the past couple of days. But he knows he can convince you to stay home just a while longer so he pulls away from your thighs briefly.

The look he gives you as he gazes up at you is downright sinful and you’re melting into his promising warmth.

**

Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a dance of vibrant colors over the grand venue. Laughter and animated conversations weave through the air along with the pulsating beats resonating from the dance floor. Your smile widens when you spot Feyre and you’re tugging Azriel along with you.

“You’re late!” Feyre quips, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry, I got a little held up,” you reply and then turn to Azriel with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, your eyes silently screaming: “I told you so.”

“I’m not sorry.” Azriel says, wearing a pleased look and you smack his arm in response, prompting a laugh from Feyre.

“Az, my man!” Cassian greets and the liquid in the glass he’s holding spills over slightly.

The two of you are being split into different directions. Cassian, with a playful grin, tugs Azriel to the table they reserved for the night, where Rhysand and Amren sit. Meanwhile, Feyre excitedly guides you toward the dance floor. You ask her where Elain is, noticing she’s the only one missing from your group but she tells you her sister is the one watching Nyx for the night along with Lucien.

Mor, already holding a drink in hand, offers it to you with a wink. You take a sip and immediately grimace at the bitter taste, making her laugh. But she insists for you to chug so you do and before you could dwell on the burn of the harsh liquid in your stomach, Nesta is spinning you into a dance. 

**

Azriel watches you, his eyes alight with a tender affection that paints a soft glow in their hazel depths. A subtle, contented smile graces his lips. You’re laughing and smiling as you dance with the girls–a playful exchange of twirls and spins. 

The dress you’re wearing is a delicate cascade of yellow, reminiscent of dandelions in a sunlit meadow and as you twirl and raise your arms, the material of your dress rides up your thighs. He takes pleasure in knowing that if your dress rode up further, it’d reveal the marks he left on your skin earlier.

Rhysand chuckles. He doesn’t need to read Azriel’s mind to know what’s on his mind and as if caught red handed, Azriel turns to his friends.

“Like you weren’t the same way with Feyre,” Cassian retorts playfully.

“As were you, boy.” Amren rolls her eyes. “All of you but I will say that I am surprised Azriel is handling tonight so well.”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

With a mischievous glint in her silver eyes, Amren simply raises her glass in your direction and Azriel follows. You’re still dancing with the girls, oblivious to the greedy eyes on you. They linger longer than he likes and when a group of high fae approach you, his shadows are discreetly darting to you while one remains. It curls around his ear and whispers to him and he catches snippets of your conversation. They’re thanking you for a potion they bought from you and he allows himself to relax. But only a little.

“I can’t keep up with her.” Feyre breathes heavily and Rhysand welcomes her to his lap, chuckling at her.

“Your mate is popular.” Nesta comments, smirking when she catches the glare Azriel sends her way.

Azriel lost count of the amount of drinks you’ve had but he knows you're captured in a spell of euphoric bliss when you’re swaying more than usual and the hair you had tied up is now loose around your shoulders. Mor is still with you and to his dismay, so is the small group of high fae that had approached you. 

Although he knows Mor is a friend, he can’t help the unsettling feeling in his stomach when she rests her hands on your waist because you’re his and the primal instinct to make his claim and remind everyone of it is strong. He knows it’s the bond and he reminds himself of this when you lean into Mor with a smile. It’s when a dark haired female comes up behind you and her touch lingers longer than needed and brushes in places it shouldn’t that the unsettling feeling slithers into his heart like a green serpent and he loses it.

**

“Azriel!” You gasp happily and throw your arms around his neck.

Azriel steadies you, placing a hand at your waist in a possessive manner. His attention is on the dark haired female. You’re oblivious to the way his gaze darkens and his eyes narrow at her in a silent warning but you’re not oblivious to the tightening of his muscles.

 You rest your hands on his chest, a slight pout on your face.  “Why are you so tense?”

 “Because she was looking at you like she wanted to fucking devour you.”

 “Who?” You pull away slightly to look up at him. Your eyebrows knit together at the bitterness of his tone, even though it’s not directed at you. Then, a laugh escapes from you because the only ones you were dancing with were Mor and the female you just made friends with. “Az, she’s just a friend! Let me introduce you.”

When you turn around, your friend is nowhere in sight. “She was just here…” you murmur with a small frown.

Mor snorts besides you. “y/n, sweetie, she was definitely hitting on you.”

“Oh.”

“I need another drink,” Mor says suddenly. She pats Azriel’s shoulder playfully as she heads toward the bar. “She’s all yours now.”

You’re gleaming with delight at Azriel when he looks back at you. “You were jealous.”

“And that amuses you?” He huffs, pulling you closer to him.

“Yes,” your hands toy with his dress shirt. The uppermost buttons on his dress shirt were left undone and with a bite of your lip, you deviously unbutton more. Your hands are slipping under his shirt with easier access and caressing his chest, following the intricate pattern of his tattoos. A wave of heated desire courses through him at your touch. 

“I find it kinda hot. You’re hot. Like really, really hot.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks and he’s thankful for the dim lighting. He stands there, with you still in his arms, momentarily speechless because he knows those words would never escape from your sober, bashful lips.

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, a smile curving his lips when you flutter your eyelashes at him in response. Amusement dances in his eyes. “Like really, really drunk.”

You poke a finger at his chest. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

The lively tempo of the upbeat music gracefully yields to a more intimate melody. As the first notes echo through the air, your mouth parts in delighted surprise.

“I love this song! Dance with me?”

The excitement in your voice is contagious and before Azriel can respond, you’ve already taken matters into your own hands as they grasp for his. You place one at the small of your back and entwine your fingers with the other.

“I put a spell on you."

"Because you’re mine.”

Your movements are clumsy but Azriel adjusts and guides you effortlessly. The grin on your face deepens as he twirls you, the music weaving a spell around both of you. “Mine, mine. All mine.” You sing to him, your voice joining the rhythm of the song.

As the final notes linger in the air, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “All yours,” he confirms with a loving smile.

You nestle your head onto his shoulder, breathing softly onto his neck. You’re the one who breaks the tender spell of the moment. With a wicked gleam in your eye, you nip at the spot you know is extremely sensitive and his body shudders beneath your bold move.

“y/n.”

You giggle when you see that your lipstick left its imprint on his skin and Azriel senses that tonight will be a long one.

**

As the night unfolds, more people approach you to thank you for your elixirs and advice. Some of them are your regulars and you excitedly introduce them to Azriel and then they’re buying you both shots. It’s nearly a miracle when he manages to bring you back to the table. You sit on his lap and drape an arm around his neck and he tucks you into his side.

“Is the room spinning or is it just me?” You say as you lazily brush a hand down his exposed chest. “Or is it you, my pretty?”

Unlike the lighting on the dance floor, the chandelier hanging above the table bathes you all in a bright glow, highlighting the blush on Azriel’s flustered face. Laughter erupts from Cassian and Rhysand and Feyre breaks into an amused smile. Until now, she was the only one aware of your flirty nature when drunk...because when you would drink together in the Spring court, she’s been on the receiving end of it.

Shadows are pushing your drink in front of you away from you, replacing it with a glass of water instead. Your fingers are toying with the buttons on his shirt again. “This is such a nice outfit,” you murmur.

“Thank you.” Azriel replies, bringing his drink to his lips.

You lean into his ear to whisper. “It’d look even better if it were on my bedroom floor.”

Azriel nearly chokes on his drink. Water splashes onto Cassian, who sits beside him. He glances between you and Azriel. He takes note of the deepening of Azriel’s blush and then the satisfied smirk on your face.

“Drink some water, y/n.” Azriel says in a slightly breathless, unusually ruffled rush. A wave of relief comes over him when he brings the drink in front of you to your lips and you don’t protest.  “You sound a little thirsty.”

“Only for you.”

“Azzy, I’m feeling a little thirsty too.” Cassian teases. He can’t help himself and leans in toward his friend, playfully batting his eyelashes at him.

You’re suddenly enveloped in a sea of green and the unwelcome visitor that had come upon Azriel earlier is now knocking on your door.  You don’t like how close Cassian is to Azriel. Your mate. He’s yours and only yours.

“Back off.” You nearly growl.

“Or what?” Cassian challenges, ignoring the kick Nesta gives his leg under the table in warning.

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble–”

“Hey Az, your mate is putting a curse on me.”

“I’m her mate, not her master,” Azriel replies with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “y/n is free to do as she pleases.”

He knows you well enough to know that the words you are spewing are nothing but nonsense. A means to scare Cassian and he takes delight in the flicker of panic he sees flash in his friend's eyes.

“Can you at least tell her to stop staring at me like that?” Cassian nearly whines, avoiding your eyes when they darken at him.

When Azriel turns to you, your eyes are back to normal and softened with a sweetness that melts his heart. “I’m not doing anything,” you say coyly and Azriel finds the pout on your face unbearingly adorable. 

“Stop being a baby, Cas.”

**

Azriel nearly has to drag you out of Rita’s. There’s only so much teasing and flirting he can take from you and he welcomes the cool breeze of the night as soon as you both step outside. With a sigh, he effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder.

“Let’s go home, love.”

He pauses at the giggle that escapes from you. “What is it?”

“I have a perfect view of your ass from here.”

Azriel shifts you from being over his shoulders to cradling you gently in his arms instead. You hum in content and raise your hand to brush against the face you adore so much. “Still a lovely view.”

“Better I hope?” He quips.

“I don’t know,” you muse with a teasing gleam in your eye. “Your ass is pretty nice too.”

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow.” Azriel huffs a laugh as he takes you home.

He’s grateful that you live only a couple of blocks away from Rita’s. He’s opening the door to your home only a couple minutes later, greeting your cat, Binx, who is lounging on your couch with a smile. Binx’s curious eyes take in your state and Azriel swears the cat winks at him.

Azriel carries you all the way to your room, using his foot to nudge the door open. He carefully places you on your bed before turning to the set of drawers. He grabs some clothes for you both to change into and when he turns to face you again, you’re curled onto your side and snoring softly.

His heart warms at the sight.

He gently slides your dress off of you, replacing it with something comfier--one of his shirt’s. He unclasps the straps of your heels and then removes your earrings. He wipes away your makeup with a dampened towel, knowing that if he doesn’t, you’d wake up with irritated skin.

Finally, after making sure you’re comfortable, he slips under the blankets. You stir and although your mind is hazy from the alcohol and drowsiness, your body still seeks out the comfort of his warmth.  

“I can’t believe you're really all mine.” You murmur softly as you cuddle up to him.

He buries his head into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender he’s so fond of. He closes his eyes and smiles. He still can’t believe you’re all his either.

**

Another glorious morning greets you, the sun glaring brightly through your thin curtains. Your mouth feels extremely dry and a thin layer of sweat forms over your skin. The arm around your waist tightens in response to your movement. You’re shifting in the bed, turning to face Azriel.

His eyes are closed yet the subtle upward curve of his lips confirms he’s awake. “Good morning, love.”

“There’s nothing good about this morning,” you groan. 

Your entire body is aching and as you stretch your sore muscles, a sudden wave of nausea hits you like a ton of bricks. You're slipping under Azriel’s hold and running to your bathroom. He follows after you, brushing your hair away and holding it back for you as you hurl all the contents from your stomach.

You lean your head against the marble cabinet near the toilet, reveling in its cool touch. “Please never let me drink like that again.”

“I quite liked drunk y/n,” Azriel teases as he helps you up to your feet. He hands you your toothbrush and leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. “She’s bold.”

All your blood rushes to your cheeks. You meet his gaze through the mirror. Bold can mean many things and as you try to remember the events from last night, you’re coming up blank. “What did I say?”

“You nearly cursed Cas,” Azriel replies. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he says his next words but the mischief reflected in his eyes contradict his casual demeanor. “And you said my ass is nice.”

 Azriel watches you, savoring the role reversal as now you’re the one in a flustered state. You push past him with your hands on your face–a futile attempt to cover your mortified expression. You walk back into your bedroom.

“Why are your clothes all over the floor?”

Azriel normally places his worn clothes in the hamper that sits in the corner of your room but in his haste to take care of you, he carelessly threw them on the floor. He smirks, taking advantage of the perfect opportunity to tease you further.

“Because you said they’d look better there than on me.”

“Fire burn and cauldron boil me.”

a/n: when writing this, I was listening to the song I Put a Spell on You and I found that there's another version of the song that Austin Giorgio sings called You Put a Spell on Me and it's very Az coded in this au. Imagine him singing it you 😩

tagging: @fxckmiup

[series masterlist]

[surielstea]

Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

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[daycourtofficial]

Loving parents, harmless fun

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 950 | warnings: none

Summary: slice of life gingerfucker where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and is for AU day for @erisweekofficial ❤️

“That’s my cow.”

Atlas’s voice rang through the car, a high pitch of excitement to his words as his finger pointed out the window, Leif’s eyes tracking the movement. Eris paid no attention to either of his sons, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Those are my chickens.”

It was a four hour drive to his in-laws house, to see his wife’s brother and his family. He counted down from ten in his head, trying to remind himself that holidays are supposed to be fun. The car was silent as he leaned his head back, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. The soft sounds of Bon Iver came from the speakers, an album that reminds him of cold, dark drives he took in the winters of his youth. It was a rare occasion - no one was begging for him to play Alvin and the Chipmunks or songs about ducks.

There was enough daylight for them to arrive at their destination before sunset, which gave him hope that maybe Atlas wouldn’t stay up too late tonight. Leif had a strict internal clock - he did most things at the exact same time each day. But his oldest, Atlas, was a mystery, his body having no internal clock for him to follow, leaving Eris clueless as to when he would fall asleep or wake up.

Eris maneuvered their vehicle through the curves of the road, taking in how beautiful the pastures around him were. It was the end of autumn when the vibrance of the leaves are going, occasional glimpses of the red and orange hues that he loved seeing so much. Atlas’s excited yell disrupted the too short peace. “That’s my cow!”

“If I have to hear him decide farm animals are his one more time,” Eris trailed off, his annoyance bubbling, his voice low so only you could hear.

“It was your brother who taught him the game.”

Eris didn’t turn to see the smirk on your face, he could tell by your voice that you were amused by Lucien’s never-ending knowledge of what buttons to push to annoy Eris.

It was a simple game - you see a cow, you claim it. It was cute when they were in the city - Atlas would see cows in billboards and claim them. Out in the country where the cows outnumbered the people - less fun.

“I don’t think he should be allowed near children ever again.”

“Oh yeah? Because he’s like every other uncle the kids have and likes to pay attention to them before teaching them annoying games?”

“My thoughts exactly. He’s also annoying so it means I’d see him less.”

“My cows.”

Atlas broke up your conversation, The quip Eris was sure you had ready dying on the tip of your tongue as his anger flared.

“Where are we - cow country?”

“Yes. You insisted we take back roads so the kids would have more sights. And to delay us getting to Rhysand’s.”

Eris should be surprised you saw through his reasoning for adding forty-five minutes to the drive, but he should know better than to think his wife doesn’t see to the root of all of his actions. The main reason you all were driving instead of flying to Rhysand’s home was simple - he wanted an easy escape. If you were flying, flights are planned and you have to wait for the plane. But if you have your car, you can just leave whenever Eris grows frustrated at his annoying in-laws. Or he can make an excuse for a reason to leave.

“My cows.” Leif’s first cows. You cooed, a soft “good job, Leif” whispered to him. Eris could see the tips of his hair from the rearview mirror, but he knew Leif was glowing in the praise from you.

“Why are we visiting again?”

“Because Feyre had their new baby.”

“Oh, that.” He practically deflated in his seat at how good the reason was for going, hoping that somehow the reason had changed and you could all turn around.

“Eris don’t act like you don’t love Nyx.”

He felt the eyeroll before it happened, slowly coming up on a red light. His wife was right - Nyx was an adorable kid who was very good, despite being half Rhysand and spending a good portion of his time with his uncle Cassian.

“My bird.”

Eris sighed through his nose. The car moved past a cemetery and Eris pointed out the window, “look, all of your cows are dead.”

Gasps were heard from all around him as if he just announced something outlandish. You slapped his arm, causing him to wince. “Eris,” his name was a hiss from your mouth, your eyes focused on him and not looking back at your sons. “They’re sensitive about that.”

Your words were mumbled, the sound having to work past your closed jaw to make it to Eris so the boys wouldn’t hear you.

“They’re fine,” he mouthed back to you, trying his best not to coddle them. It was a tricky line - one he needed frequent help navigating. Having a shitty father isn’t really the best role model for a man. A deep insecurity of his - was he being a regular dad or was he being too harsh? His train of thought was interrupted by Atlas’s hands hitting the car window, desperate for everyone’s attention.

“A hospital! My cows are alive again!”

Eris rolled the car to a stop at the red light, his forehead hitting the steering wheel.

“I thought I had won.”

A hand reached out to rub his back for a moment before he lifted his head, waiting for the light to change to green. The car moved forward, a family undeterred.

“My cow.”

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[bookwormjust]

A Quiet afternoon with the IC ? (established relationship with Cassian, caring for Nyx, child always listening to the little voice in their head)

Alternative Version request by @azrielswhore

The cozy, sunny afternoon with the Inner Circle had been unfolding perfectly. You were sitting on a soft rug in the corner of the sitting room, surrounded by little Nyx’s laughter as he busily worked with a pile of colorful paper and child-safe scissors. He had insisted he needed to make “important decorations,” and you had been diligently cutting small pieces for him to use.

Cassian was nearby, his warm gaze often drifting over to you, his chest puffing with pride as he watched you care for the young heir. Feyre and Mor were engaged in conversation on a nearby couch, with Azriel and Rhys occasionally throwing in quips. The atmosphere was light, filled with the hum of familial warmth.

For a split second, as Mor asked you a question, you shifted your focus from Nyx to answer. Just two seconds—that’s all it took.

When you turned back, Nyx was holding a strand of your long, curly hair triumphantly in his tiny hands. His wide, innocent eyes looked up at you with a mix of pride and curiosity. A quick glance downward confirmed it: a short piece of your hair now hung unevenly at neck length.

The room fell silent in an instant.

Feyre, who had been laughing moments before, sat upright, her expression shifting into one of maternal reproach. “Nyx,” she started, her voice firm and ready to scold. Cassian, meanwhile, had stiffened, his hand gripping the armrest of his chair. You could feel the tension radiating from him—his love for your long hair was no secret.

Before anyone could say or do anything further, you held up a hand, stopping Feyre mid-sentence. You took a deep breath and smiled, keeping your tone calm and steady. “Nyx, my little artist,” you said, catching his attention gently. “That was very creative of you, but we need to talk about what just happened.”

Nyx’s proud smile faltered, his little brow furrowing. “What? Did I do something bad?”

You reached out, gently taking the scissors from his hands and setting them aside. Then, you gestured for him to come closer. “Not bad, but not very kind,” you explained softly. “Cutting someone’s hair without asking first isn’t something we do. It’s their choice, not ours.”

Nyx looked puzzled, his small hands fidgeting. “But it looks pretty!” he protested.

“It does, and I think you might have a great eye for hairdressing one day,” you said with a chuckle, which helped ease the tension in the room. Even Cassian’s lips twitched upward at your gentle tone. “But I think you need to understand how it feels when it happens to you, so you know why we always ask for permission.”

With that, you reached out carefully and took a tiny piece of his dark, silky hair between your fingers. “I’m going to cut just a little bit of your hair, okay?” you said, watching his reaction closely. He looked surprised but didn’t pull away, nodding hesitantly.

With a single snip, you cut off a small piece of Nyx’s hair—not enough to be noticeable, but just enough to make your point. You held it up for him to see. “See? Now you’ve lost a piece of your hair, just like I lost a piece of mine. How does that feel?”

Nyx blinked, his little face scrunching up in thought. “I... I didn’t like it,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t say you could.”

“Exactly,” you said with a gentle smile. “That’s why we always ask. Hair is part of who we are, and cutting it without permission isn’t kind. Do you understand now?”

Nyx nodded solemnly, his bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice small.

“Oh, sweetie,” you murmured, pulling him into your arms for a hug. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But now you know, right?”

Nyx nodded again, sniffling against your shoulder. After a moment, you pulled back, smiling at him. “Now tell me—how do I look? Still beautiful?” you asked, playfully fluffing the uneven strands of your hair.

Nyx broke into a giggle, wiping his eyes. “Yeah, still beautiful! Even if your hair’s a little funny now.”

The room finally relaxed, and Feyre gave you a look of gratitude and admiration. Rhys was chuckling softly, clearly impressed with your way of handling the situation.

Cassian, however, was still pouting slightly. “You do look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff. “But I was fond of your long hair.”

You smirked, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Guess you’ll have to grow yours out longer than mine now to make up for it.”

His eyes narrowed playfully, but the soft, adoring smile he gave you spoke volumes. “Deal,” he said, pulling you into his lap for a cuddle.

Nyx, still giggling, scampered off to show his “new skill” to his parents—this time, thankfully, without scissors in hand.

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts

Part 2

Alright here you go guys!

POV: You find out Azriels your mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

It was a warm summer day when he realized he loved her. They were walking out along the Sidra taking in the day to day lives of the merchants. They got the day off from Rhys as he was spending a long time needed day with Fayre, no court or camp work to be done or thought of. You and him had Nyx for the day as Cassian had claimed that he and Nesta needed the day together and with Elain in the Spring Court with Lucian you two were the last options, not that he didn’t like the idea of spending the day with you but curious as to what mischievous acts you and Nyx would get up to.

You and Nyx had walked up to a musician that spent part of his day playing along the Sidra. At first you both were just enjoying the music but then you started dancing. Azriel stood off to the side but you and Nyx started dancing and laughing with nothing but the biggest smiles on your faces. At the sight Azriel started to relax a bit and felt a smile fighting to make an appearance on his countenance. He knew the horrors you grew up with, you got to keep your freedom of flying, thank the Cauldron, but that didn’t mean your father hurt you in other ways.

As he was watching you he felt that snap, the one he had been begging to feel since he was young and dealing with his own tourture that his family dealt him. He looked to you for any ounce of a reaction that you felt the same but there you were still laughing and dancing with his nephew. He pulled at the bond and your face changed for a moment but never strayed from the boy in front of you. At that moment he knew that he needed to put a sheild around that bond because no matter how strong he was there was no way he would have the discipline to not pull on it again, not until you felt it too in your own time. So immediately he but up that cold indifferent shield around the bond begging the cauldron that you would feel the same about him sooner rather than later.

For the next few months Azriel kept everything the same between the two of you, training in the morning for at least two hours by your own asking and determination to the post training flights. You both were drained but that didn’t stop you from leaping from the top of the house of wind to go fly for an hour. Azriel never knew why you did, maybe because it reminded you of the freedom you now have with your life, regardless he always joined you.

There were a few days you didn’t train as long or take your flight to clear your mind, and on those days Azriel would find you in the back corner of the library, the first few times lead by his shadows but soon enough he knew the way to you like you know the scars on the back of his hands.

“So what’s the reading material tonight, another recommendation from Nesta” he quipped as he approached you. There was no smile on his face, his own way to try and keep you from seeing his true feelings for you.

“Possibly, and if that’s the case maybe I should go find some unsuspecting male at Ritas to help me reenact some of these moments.” You replied without looking up from your book.

Many times Azriel would come in and ask you similar questions and you wanted to see if you could get a rise out of him. Apparently tonight you did because he walked right over to the stand that held the whiskey and glass and helped himself to a glass full.

As the silence expanded between the two of you there was a slight discomfort, which wasn’t normal for you. “Gonna share or keep it all to yourself?” You asked looking up from your book.

At your words he visually relaxed, poured himself a second glass and you your first.

“I thought you’d sit over there brooding this whole time” you responded to him handing you the glass. He sat next to you on the small loveseat that was located in this corner and stayed silent. That was the last night he visited you in the library.

Azriel knew that he was creating a distance between the two of you for a while but he couldn’t stop himself, until he knew that you also felt that bond he was gonna keep to himself. He couldn’t stand to break you heart or the heartbreak he would encounter himself if you didn’t feel the same and rejected him. His shadows would still follow you or bring you comfort, if they were going on their own accord or he was sending them, he didn’t know anymore.

Not too long after Azriel stopped hanging out with you Rhys had asked for a formal meeting with the whole inner circle. It was there that he learned that the uprisings he had been watching the last few months were getting more out of hand and these camp leaders needed to be reminded who the real leader was. Azriel was instructed to go to the camp you grew up in and even though it wasn’t Windhaven, it was a close second. During the meeting he felt a slight twinge, he didn’t dare look at you because he needed to make sure it was the bond and not something from his shadows.

He left immediately after the meeting because if he took a moment to look at you his whole facade would fall and the anger he felt towards your father would be even stronger.

When he walked into his room to gather his belongings he found Mor sitting in one of the chairs across from the fireplace.

“When are you going to tell her and stop putting the poor girl through so much torture?” She asked without looking from the fire.

Azriel was surprised by the brashness from Mor concerning you. After he felt the bond snap he felt that she was the only one to trust with the information of you being his mate.

“I told you I’m waiting until she feels the pull herself. I don’t want to freak her out before she’s ready. Now if you don’t mind I need to go beat the life out of her father.” He said with a scowl.

“Do you really think-“

“No I’m not thinking, that’s what she does to me and all I know is that I finally have the opportunity to bring pain tenfold of what he dealt to her back to him and that’s what I’ll do.” And like that he left.

When he returned from the camp he lifted the shield around the bond to see if maybe you felt it but there was nothing there. So, as he and Cassian passed you in the dining room he didn’t let his gaze fall to you but, he did dispatch a shadow to you, just to make sure you were ok. That’s what he told himself.

Then there was a day it all changed. He stopped is lonely training sessions and joined everyone else in hopes of seeing you but you weren’t there.

“Has y/n been coming at a different time to train alone?” He asked Cassian

“No, she hasn’t been around for a few days, I tried to check in on her but apparently she’s gone. Rhys said some sort of secret mission. I thought you would now about Mr.Shadowsiger.” Cassian responded. Azriels world turned on its axis. You were gone and no one told him.

He left the house of wind and went right to the river house where he knew Rhys would be in his office, he needed answers.

“Where have you sent her and why wasn’t I made aware of it?” Azriel basically yelled as he threw the office door open and practically off of its hinges.

“She said she needed to get away so I sent her away” Rhys said, face full of nutrality. Azriel knew he wouldn’t get anything out of his brother but he needed to try.

“Please tell me where you sent her before I send my shadows to her, I need to know she’s safe bec-“

“Because she’s your mate” Rhys finished for him.

Azriel was ready to beat his brothers face in because somehow he knew but kept it from him and still sent you away. Seeing the anger and worry on his brothers face Rhys tried to calm him down but the worry seeped from his being, and off his shadows went.

When Rhys saw the shadows disappear from his brothers form he reached out to you and although he was meat with a wall at first he knew a shadow had found you because he was able to easily break through your walls and all he could say was “I’m so sorry”

Tag list: @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @mp-littlebit

[dangerpronebuddie]

Fuck It Friday!!

Tagged by @tizniz @inell who both shared AMAZING fics y'all have got to check out and @kitteneddiediaz who's dom Buck wip is giving me LIFE🩵🩷

Made this post, went insane, and started writing. It's not so much speculation as it is just utter nonsense. But I'm having the time of my life! Here's some of the 118 and the 119s first meeting:

Eduardo looks at Buck, and his eyes go wide before turning softer than Eddie thinks is necessary. "He's never going to believe this," Eduardo mutters. "Just... Just hang on a sec, yeah?" He holds up his hands, signaling them to stay put, before dashing back to the 119's engine. "Buckles!" he calls. Eddie and Buck share a look. What is going on?? A man still in his turnouts and helmet hops out of the engine, the jump a touch dramatic for the short distance. Eduardo says something to him, and the man perks up like a... very familiar golden retriever. Eduardo grabs the sleeve of the man's turnout and tugs him along. He removes his helmet as they approach, and something like butterflies stirs in Eddie's middle. Sweat-damp curls fall across his forehead, one curling around a splotchy pink birthmark. Bright blue eyes dart between Eddie and Buck with something like wonder. Eddie is most definitely losing his mind. "Hi," the man says, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. He extends a hand to Buck first. "Ethan Buckles." "No way," Buck whispers, barley loud enough for Eddie to hear. "Evan Buckley. But uh... everyone calls me Buck." "That's what we should call you," Eduardo says, bumping his shoulder against Ethan's. Eddie swears he feels a phantom sensation against his own shoulder. "In your dreams, Eddie," Ethan says. "Eduardo," he corrects with the same exasperated fondness Eddie uses with Buck. His head is spinning. Maybe he concussed himself in that apartment fire after all. This can't possibly be real. Ethan shakes Eddie's hand next. "I hear I can at least call you Eddie," he grins. "You make it sound like a consolation prize," Eddie quips. "I don't see how you could possibly be a consolation," Ethan says with a smirk, his eyes roaming over Eddie. Eduardo clears his throat at the same time Buck does. "Okay, Buckles, we'd better get back," Eduardo says, shooing Ethan away. "What's the rush?" Ethan asks even as Eduardo turns him. He looks back and winks at Eddie before Eduardo pushes him along. "I don't like that Ethan guy," Buck says with a glare in their direction.

(tags under the cut! As always please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):

@lover-of-mine @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus

@thekristen999 @monsterrae1 @diazheartsbuckley @wildlife4life @misshiss727

@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @slowlyfoggydestiny @eddiesfagstache

@lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92 @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22

@lady-elaine @buckley-diaz-rules @buddiedaydreamer911 @monroemary @pirate-hunter @snowviolettwhite

@tofanasmuse @gnoeltop @keynb @cassi-brooks @-syrup-sue @punkrock00 @shannonhutchins @aroqueerfandoms @unlifeira @marissaleec

@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @traumabuddies @epicbuddieficrecs @disasterbuck

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 7

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Definitely NSFW

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

The house had quieted down, everybody leaving, just him and Oriana. The wards were armed to their teeth and he was certain that if Cassian ever tried to force his way through them again…well he would probably lose. 

Oriana would have patched every weak spot there was as soon as she realised that there was one. 

Still, she was the one who more or less poured him into the bathtub and then scrubbed his hair, using the kind of soap bar she used, not him. It left his hair too soft to his own touch. Still, he let her do that because he knew that she was doing that not only to care for him but also to calm herself. 

She tucked Azriel into bed, giving him potions to drink and he did so without any protest, immediately feeling his muscles relax as the pain lightened. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked him quietly. 

“Good,” he promised her. “I am alright,” he repeated, leaning back against the pillow, trailing a finger down her cheek. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Sweetling,” she protested, her voice hoarse. 

“I  swear I am alright. I promise,” he repeated to her. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. And I won’t.”

Not when he knew that she could immediately pick out that he did indeed lie.

She sighed, but she took him at his word. 

She moved throughout their bedroom, wearing that cobalt blue dressing gown that he had come to connect with her, picking up her hairbrush and starting to pull it through the length of it.  

“May I?” he asked. He didn’t need to say anything else. She would understand. 

“Of course,” Oriana agreed, sitting down at the edge of the bed and handing the brush to him. 

He started at the ends, gently starting to tease out the knots in her long hair that fell down her back in waves. It was beautiful, long and thick and curly when she didn’t use the brush to tame it into silky waves. 

He didn’t know what he liked more. It didn’t really matter. He loved her every which way he could. 

“Every time I do that, I feel myself calming down. I am at peace here,” he said quietly. 

Azriel didn’t think that he ever going to reach a place where he could be that. But somehow Oriana had become that for him. Become this oasis of peace and quiet in his life, a sanctuary and paradise at the same time. 

As long as he had her, everything was well in his life. “I love it,” he whispered. 

“I love it here too,” Oriana agreed softly and they lapsed into silence, like they sometimes did, completely content to be in the same room and ignore each other if that meant that they could be in each other’s nearer vicinity. And he thought about that evening about his family all coming together, about Oriana surrounded by his brothers, and Feyyre and Nesta, Amren and MOore…and Nyx, baby Nyx who seemed to have his first crush on Oriana of all people when his wide blue eyes and grins were any indication. 

She had slid into place with them as there had always been a place for her. 

And still…

“The only reason why I didn’t introduce you to them sooner was Rhys. It had nothing to do with you,” he finally said, and Oriana twisted around, staring at him. The Flames in her were dancing wildly, surprise written all over her face. “I swear. I know you probably thought that it had something to do with you, but it didn’t. It was on me and I was scared.” He sighed.  “I am not good with words,” he told her quietly. 

“You seem to do it alright,” Oriana quipped, but he shook his head. 

“I…I know, but…I… Oriana,” the words stuck in his throat.  

“You don’t need to say it. I know,” she promised him, a hand gently cupping his cheek. “It’s written all over your face, in everything you do…I feel through the bond every day, Azriel. I didn’t need the words.”

Maybe she didn’t. “But I want to give them to you,” he whispered. “I love you.” And suddenly it was easy. “ These words don’t seem to be enough to describe my feelings for you. I love you so much. I am grateful every day that you came into my life. And that I get to sleep next to you and wake up with you…that I get to spend time with you and watch you and see your mind at work. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, and then she was leaning down and she was kissing him and all there was anymore was Oriana. Oriana’s lips and the way she tasted and every warm spark that flew from her. 

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, again and again and again. “I love you.”

She pulled back finally, warm hands still gently running through his hair. 

“Still interested in that treat?” she asked him. “Even when you didn’t stay in bed.”

“Sorry, but it’s not every day that you dangle a High Lord in the air in front of our house,” he told her drily. 

She just shrugged. 

There was something else that tingled at the edge of his brain though. “Where exactly did you meet Mor?” he asked her and she laughed, pure amusement pouring from her. 

“I met her in a lingerie shop on the other side of the Sidra, run by a friend. But I never got a name,” she said with some amusement.

Oh. 

“What did you buy? he asked her and she grinned. 

“The lingerie for our mating that I never got to wear,” she answered honestly. He swallowed. 

That was...That was… “Will you put it on?” Azriel asked, his voice hoarse.

“Ah, you have requests,” she teased him. He could just nod. 

She seemed more amused than anything by that, but he did go to their closet, picking out whatever she had bought and then disappeared into the bathroom. 

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, had no bloody picture in his mind…but he was sure that nothing that he could have come up with anyway would be able to match the sight of her in the blue lace as she stepped out of the bathroom. 

He swallowed once again. 

“I would ask you if you liked it, but I think you need to have some blood in your brain to answer me, and you don’t. So that is probably an answer,” she quipped as she stepped closer to the bed. 

The arousal that was normally tightly blanked came over him like a wildfire, pouring all over the bond and Oriana’s eyes brightened.

“You are so gorgeous,” he finally managed to bring out. So fucking gorgeous. 

And she was all his, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. 

The lace left nothing to the imagination, nearly see-through in places, but it rams and surrounded her in bright cobalt blue, contrasting sharply to her skin. 

It was utterly enchanting. He wanted to reach out and touch as she climbed onto the bed, but she caught his hand into hers, linking their fingers. 

She clucked her tongue at him lightly. “No. Not right now,” she told him softly. “I said I wanted to return the favour.”

Oriana was going to be the fucking death of him, he thought weakly as she worked the loose linen pants he wore down over his hips. He hadn’t even bothered with a shirt after his bath and now he regretted that. Because like this, he was stretched out underneath her, as she pressed a kiss against his skin, every single touch of her mouth on his skin like a spark of fire, of pure ecstasy against his skin…

He bucked against her, but she didn’t let up as she worked down his body, against the muscled wall of his stomach, drew sharp nails against a tight nipple that made him hiss and then finally kneeled between his legs. 

“You tell me to stop when it’s too much,” she warned him. 

It was all the warning he was going to get. 

She swallowed him down without much further of a preamble, full lips stretching over the heart-shaped crown of his cock. His back bowed, a whimper leaving his throat. 

“Fuck, love,” he whispered, threading a hand through her face, not trying to set a pace, just watching her, feeling the tight heat of her mouth against him, the fluttering off her tongue that made him moan deep in his chest. 

Her eyes met his, the flames burning brightly.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There was something to say to have Azriel at her mercy, reduced to a whimpering mess beneath her. For once he wasn’t fighting her for dominance instead let her do to him as she wished, hearing every bitten-off moan and curse that he tried to swallow down as hollowed out her cheeks and sucked.

He threw his head back, the line of his throat as he moaned, the sweat that had broken out over his body. She wasn’t going to pull this out for much longer. He was still not completely better, still not…

“Stop,” he whispered. She immediately pulled off him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I want to come inside you,” he told her, sitting up and pulling her towards him, already moving to bury her underneath him but she pressed him back into the pillows.

To her surprise he actually went, letting her straddle him. 

“By the cauldron you are gorgeous,” he whispered. 

She took that as an opportunity to pull the blue nightgown over her head, the blue lace ending up on the floor somewhere behind her. She hadn’t even bothered with underwear. 

“You want this?” She asked him, letting a hand slide over her body, her heaving chest…“Then you are going to stay right like this,” she told him pointedly. “And you are not going to put any pressure on your stomach.” He looked at her nearly startled. “Think you can do that?” She asked as she leaned forward to kiss him. “Or do you want the shadows?” 

It was a sudden thought that came into her mind but as she could feel his throat bob and him nod, the shadows came out to join them, surrounding them in velvety darkness and pin him to the bed. 

A thought of him would be all that would be needed to let him go and she knew that was the only way how he could even stand that. 

“You say stop and it stops immediately,” she said quietly as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

“I know,” he whispered against her lips. “I trust them. I trust you.”

That was all she needed as she leaned back, placing her hand on his chest, as she got him at just the right angle…She shuddered.

Oriana knew that she wasn’t really ready for him, even when she was absolutely drenched with her own slick, even when she could feel the arousal through their bond, even when… she rocked down, enough to take the head at the entrance of her slick passage. 

“Oriana.”

She relented, taking him in. She had to breathe through it, for just a moment wondering if she could actually do this, if…

And then…then suddenly without a thought from either of them, there they were. His shadows, swarmed to her, right there where they were joined and she couldn’t help the shudder that trembled through her whole body as they slid against her slick and overheated flesh, up and up until they found the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. 

They concentrated there, nearly bodily, massively, pulsing against her skin, nearly vibrating against it and the only thing Oriana could do was to shudder through it, was to pulse around him as his shadows pushed her to her peak. She came with a whimper, her thighs trembling, her body clenching and unclenching, opening up for him, letting him slide inside her as she collapsed half on top of him, as the pleasure took over for her. 

But they weren’t done with her. Azriel wasn’t, his shadows weren’t either…They pushed her forward and up and then down again. Her nails squabbled against his chest, moan after moan tumbling from her mouth as she started to find some form of rhythm, the shadows wrapping themselves around both of them, around her, around him…

Azriel was hard and thick inside her, hips bucking up against her, even with the shadows holding him down…and still, the shadows seemed to know that there was more. 

They were still pulsing against her, even as she could feel one wisp move, probe the point where they were joined, something that got another gasp out of both of them…She felt them move back, felt them spread her wider. 

She could feel the blood burn in her cheeks as she had never even thought about this, that any of this could be used to make the pleasure burn even brighter for her…

But his shadows managed that. Their touch was cool and soft and still insistent, probing. 

They slid against her other hole and she choked with pleasure, every muscle off her body locking up for a second, even as they wrapped her up and caressed her. They pressed back against the bundle of nerves, concentrating on that until she had relaxed…and then pressed into her there. 

She thought that she was so full that she couldn’t possibly…couldn’t possibly take more, even if she wanted to…but they gave her more before she could even voice a thought of protest, filling her up as far as she went and then filing her up even more, until she was sure that she couldn’t even breathe anymore, the only noise that still left her mouth a high keening whine…as it felt like she couldn’t even breath anymore, as she whimpered and shook and clenched and unclenched…

And then it all came to a point where her body shuddered through another climax as his hips pushed up sharply into her. The pleasure seemingly exploded, burning so brightly that for just a moment she was sure that she blacked out. 

She whimpered as she fell against his chest, as she felt the shadows disperse, leaving her and him alone, letting Azriel#s arms wrap around her back, his cock still buried inside her. 

“Your shadows have the dirtiest mind of all of us,” she finally managed to get out, making him snort with amusement as he shifted her so that she was lying next to him, with one wing wrapped around her like a cocoon. 

“I told you they like you more than me,” he whispered against her skin, his voice hoarse, as she felt his heart beat against her fingertips, just as rapid as her own. And then, completely out of the blue: “You know, you should give me treats more often if it ends like this for both of us.”

She couldn’t help but start laughing, her laughter skittering over both their skins. “I definitely should. We both win,” Oriana declared. “And I love every damn minute I get to spend with you.”

He pressed a kiss against her sweat-damp skin and she couldn’t help but smile as she felt him pour all his affection and love for her into their bond. 

As long as they were together, everything was going to be just fine.

[starfall-spirit]

And the Starlight Kissed Your Face Again

For @reverie-tales

Read on Ao3

Summary: There’s nothing more special to Rhys and Feyre than spending Starfall with their family, but then they also don’t hesitate to take a few moments of alone time when someone so kindly offers to keep an eye on their children.

Nothing could quite match the buzzing excitement of a sunset on Starfall evening, a blanket of stars replacing the dusk light. Another hour or two and the migration would begin. Laughter and merriment were overflowing—as was the wine they'd brought out for the occassion. Feyre was already feeling the first glass hit her when her mate returned to her with a fresh flute. "Oh no. Food first, Rhys. We have kids to watch and you know I'm a lightweight."

Several squeals cut through the music and chatter surrounding them and a moment later she found their two children weaving through the crowd on quick feet, Vivian and Kallias' daughter on their heels. "The children are minding themselves, darling. Neither of them are going to fall off of the balcony with wards in place. Relax." The glasses vanished from his hands and she was in his arms once again. "It's Starfall, my love. Dance with me."

She sighed. The kids were safe and having fun and Feyre and Rhys knew every person around them by name. He was right.

"I'm always right, darling."

She laughed aloud at that. "Hardly. But you can keep dreaming."

He leaned down to kiss her, putting an end to her quips and letting her melt against him. She'd never tire of this. Never stop drowning in the taste of him. "Is there a moment we might have a chance of  seeing you two with your faces detached?"

She broke the kiss, wincing slightly before the intruding voice processed. "Lucien! You're here!" Rhys scowled when she squirmed out of his hold, but released her in the end so she could welcome Elain and Lucien with a hug. "It feels like ages since I've seen you."

His lips ticked up when she withdrew to embrace her sister. "It's been a busy few months, I'll admit. But we wouldn't dare miss Starfall."

She beamed, squeezing her sister's hand. "And how have you been, Elain?"

"Tired," her sister admitted, pressing her hand to her swollen belly with a smile, "but excited all the same. I can't believe I only have a few months left. The time's flown."

After being mated for nearly four years now, Elain and Lucien had been blessed with their first child. Tucked away in Day, the pair had been discreet in the early weeks, but nothing stayed quiet for long between sisters. Especially since they'd become closer and started writing after Elain and Lucien were mated and began residing in the Day Court. It had taken time, but they were all better for the healing they'd finally achieved together. "So, tell me what you've been up to, Elain. I've hardly heard a peep since your last visit."

"I'm sorry. I've been a bit distracted, preparing for the baby. The nursery design is about the only thing I get to lift a finger on nowadays. You warned me he'd be overbearing, but I didn't realize it would be so ridiculous." Rhys and Lucien both frowned, looking ready to defend their actions, only to be interrupted by high-pitched squeals and the staccato of little feet running across the red stone floor. Her sister staggered back slightly when Nyx made impact, now tall enough to wrap his arms around her middle while little Roxana could only reach her skirts. Their mouths were already running a mile a minute. Feyre had to give her credit, considering she couldn't catch more than a few words out of the jumble as their mother. "That is quite a tale," she replied when they finally stopped to breathe. "You'll have to tell us more while we're here with you. Why don't you two give Uncle Lucien a hug now."

Scurrying over, they flung themselves at Lucien with equal enthusiasm. He grinned right back, ruffling Nyx's dark hair and hoisting Roxana up with one arm. "You've gotten bigger, little girl. How tall are you now, hm?" With the kids well on their way to complete distraction, Feyre caught Elain making a little shooing motion. Go on, she mouthed. Feyre tried to protest, but Rhys was already herding her closer to the edge of the party to winnow away a bit more discreetly.

"Only a few minutes, Rhys," she mumbled when his magic cleared from around them. "They aren't here to watch the kids."

"Of course, darling." He already had her against the wall behind them, breath hot against her neck before his mouth closed over her pulse, pinching down. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and alerting the party above to exactly what was going on. "There's a shield in place already."

"W-what?"

"Don't try to hide a sound from me, mate." Gently pulling her away from the wall, he threaded his fingers through her hair, her next groan silenced by his lips on hers. "Every day you look so damn beautiful. Every day I think my life can't get any more perfect. And every day you prove me wrong." With her next breath she was being guided down to her back, his hand still cradling her head to keep it from knocking back onto the stone. One hand fell to her ankle, his loose hold gliding up her leg to raise the hem off her dress little by little, placing tender kisses and bites along the way. "Let me take you beneath the stars, Feyre."

She couldn't deny this. Couldn't deny him. He hummed into her mind, pleased when the fabric of her dress passed her waist. His fingers traced the edge of her panties before slipping beneath them. "These are new. Too pretty to ruin just yet."  In the last eight years of their mating they had to have set some sort of record in lingerie sales with how many sets he'd either misted or ripped to shreds. But that was her last concern now that he had two thick fingers pumping a slow, torturous rhythm inside of her. "Oh," she groaned. Her hips jerked upward and he chuckled, doing nothing to quicken the pace, content to maintain his steady pace until it drove her to her undoing. "Rhys."

"Yes?" he purred, appearing entirely unruffled. She knew better. Knew him better than anyone.

Jerking him down by the back of his neck, she pulled him close, nearly shivering at the feeling of his chuckle against her neck. "Fill me up, please. I need to feel you inside of me."

He cursed, low and filthy. She had him now. "My sweet little mate, so wet for me." A snap and their clothes were folded up in a neat pile nearby, his hard length pushing into her in one steady stroke. She clenched down hard, shaking like a leaf as his hips forced her to open for him. "Fuck. Tight little cunt, taking me so well."

He drew back a few inches, snapping his hips forward sharply enough to force a hoarse cry from her lips. "Rhys!"

"You can take it, darling." Slow and brutal would be his game tonight. She whimpered under the next stroke, but he didn't stop, didn't gentle or change his pace. She'd even take a hard fucking right now. Anything but this sluggish climb to insanity. Rhys reached out to tweek her nipple and she gripped his shoulders hard, knowing her nails had to be breaking skin. "Good girl. You just hold onto me nice and tight while I take care of you." His mouth came down to sooth the sting and she shuddered again.

"Rhys, more, please."

Raising his head again he pressed the softest kiss to her jaw, then her nose, and finally her mouth. Gripping her hips tight, he rocked into her a little faster, at last building the friction between them. Lips otherwise occupied, he spoke into her mind once again. "Come for me, mate."

She spiraled up higher and higher, praying his shield had held when her scream pierced the air and she came crashing down, her reality lost to sensation. Rhys was close behind, buried deep inside of her as he finally reached his release. "Cauldron, Feyre."

Feyre moaned again as he rolled his hips through the last of his orgasm before withdrawing slowly and easing her up and into his arms, murmuring soft praise in her ear as she finally gathered her senses. "There they are," he whispered. And peeling her eyes open, she was met with the most exquisite Starfall yet. "I haven't seen a migration like this in nearly a century."

Raising her head from his chest, she eyed their folded clothes then glanced up to where their family waited for them beyond the red stone and sound shield. "Still want to dance with me tonight?"

A few moments later they had almost rid themselves of the evidence of what they'd done. Returning to the party, Feyre let him pull her in close, kissing her forehead. And as their children found them again she felt the starlight dance on her skin. And she did not try to hide it, for her joy could not be contained.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone

[newx-menfan]

NYX #3 Review!

*Spoilers!*

The issue starts with a phone message to Anole from Kamala, inviting him to the funeral of a recently deceased mutant.

Anole heads to the funeral- which includes Laura, Prodigy, Sophie, and Kamala.

(At the funeral is also Local, which Laura is totally eye-f***ing 😂🤣)

Some “truthseekers” (aka Marvel Universe’s version of “QAnon” 😂🤣🤣) are at the funeral as well; screaming them down Westborough Baptist church style.

Caliban shows up at the funeral with new digs while doing a whole ceremony ( Caliban had a major “glow up” and stopped talking in 3rd person) and Anole decides to follow him into the sewers….where he sees Caliban’s new version of “the Morlocks” and their spiffed up sewer/faux Krakoa. (Everyone is apparently obsessed with remaking Krakoa!)

Meanwhile Kamala’s brother, Aamir shows up at the funeral looking for Kamala with their “Trumper” cousin, who is in town (I guess we all have one lol) and gets a mouthful about the dangers of being around mutants.

Sophie loses her cool and flips out on Kamala’s cousin (#thekrakoanwasright).

(Also- OKAY Sophie….we INTERRUPT David’s carefully planned lecture….but don’t call out Kamala for not standing up for her friends or new identity more?!!) 

(Also- the panel with Sophie looks AMAZING!) 

As Kamala’s cousin and brother leave, Sophie then alerts Kamala that the truthseekers have followed Anole into the sewers and are planning to attack him.

Back in the sewers, we find out that apparently Anole is dating people on apps with “scaly fetishes” while he is asked to take off his shirt to make sure he’s not “wearing a wire” so to speak… 😳😂🤣

Anole verbally debates if he belongs more with the X-Men or the Morlocks and says that he’s done with the “X-Men life” and asks if they asked him to strip to make sure he wasn’t “in costume”… (this is basically a rip-off of Spyke’s arc in “X-Men Evo” btw…)

Anole’s internal debate is interrupted by the Truthseekers (apparently working in tandem with the Purifiers…it’s hard to keep track of all the mutant hate groups honestly), and Anole protects the Morlocks.

The calvary of Ms. Marvel, Sophie, and Wolverine then show up….(Prodigy interestingly nowhere to be seen!) 

(Kamala screaming random political slogans in battle IS admittedly funny!)

When they won, Laura debates about killing the truthseekers (damn Laura! Someone is backsliding with Krakoa gone! 😂🤣), but Sophie talks her out of it.

Anole and Laura chat, as Anole quips about being a former “Hellion” and Laura drags Kamala out to give Anole a minute with the Morlocks….(technically he was in “Alpha Squadron” but whatevs….)

Anole ultimately decides he doesn’t want to hide in a sewer OR be a bartender (tbh I wouldn’t want to bartend in NYC either!) and goes back to the surface with Caliban and co.

We also find out Prodigy is apparently the one tagging Mutant Graffiti, with paint stained hands!

And that Sophie is working for Empath!

Review:

This issue was OKAY….more or less it’s just a “filler issue”.

For being titled “Anole”…we barely got much of him (the one chink in the armor of this book is that I don’t care for how they write Anole- KYOST really wrote the best version of that character!)

I mentioned it’s a poor rip-off of Spyke from Evo in the summary and I would argue that the show at least built up to Spyke’s internal debate about being an X-Men or a Morlocks…this feels a bit left field for Anole…

The things fans WANTED- mentioning of Santo….Anole putting on the X-Dudes costume again…Northstar cameo…DOESN’T happen…and instead we get ANOTHER story about Anole having an existential crisis over having a physical mutation….(sigh…at least it WASN’T about his love life…)

This is definitely the weakest issue so far…and I think the main issue IS that Kamala is definitely overtaking the book a bit…which isn’t great, since this is an X-book, not a Ms. Marvel mini….(I’m saying this as someone who READ G. Willow’s run and likes the character!)

Hopefully the next issue with Prodigy will be stronger; it DEFINITELY seems like David is easier for this team to write than Victor….

The reveal of Sophie being the “traitor” is kind of boring…but it makes sense because it would be weird if she didn’t sense what her sisters were up to…(although I DO wonder now if there’s more than ONE…)

The ART is again SPECTACULAR!! This issue hands down had the strongest art!

Theories/Predictions:

I AM TOTALLY going to laugh if David painted a mural of HELLION! (the colors DO match!) 🤣🤣🤣

I kind of wonder if the Cuckoos are “sharing” powers with Hellion and that’s why they have telekinesis suddenly?

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Imagine asking Alastor to glow in the dark because you can't find your way to the bathroom at night 🤣🤣🤣

You tripping on a root: "Ouch... Alastor...?"

Alastor (half asleep): "Mmmm?"

You: "I can't see... And I need the toilet badly... Can you... Do the thing please...?"

Alastor sighs, but opens his eyes, a rush of power making his eyes glow red and the rest of himself glows green, illuminating the room.

You: "Thanks..."

Alastor: "You're welcome Dear... Now hurry up."

You go to scuttle off.

You: "Oh and Al?"

Alastor's smile strains, You can see his glowing teeth.

Alastor: "Yes Dearest?"

You: "Love you."

Alastor's eyes and smile softens.

Alastor: "I love you too, my Heart, do please hurry up... I'm awake now and you're in need of punishment it seems."

You giggle and hurry along, You love disturbing his nights like that... It's why you always drink a litre of water before bedtime.

A/N: Yes Alastor is now a nightlight 🤣

[fieldofdaisiies]

secret santa gift 2 for @moonlightazriel ❤️ @acotargiftexchange ship: Feyre x Rhysand type: nothing but pure fluff word count: 3k words warnings: none summary: We all know SJM is not a fan of writing wedding scenes and since you (my lovely secret santa recipient) indicated that you would love to see their wedding scene, I decided to write it for you. @moonlightazriel I acted as your lifesaver (hope you are not disappointed that it is me haha). I am sorry didn't have that much time hence why the story is a little shorter, but I added a playlist at the end, hoping I included a lot of your favourite songs. Love you so much❤️

read on ao3

Beneath the starlit sky of the Night Court, in the middle of a forest, where trees stand tall, and the moon casts a gentle glow upon the land, is where their union will happen. Twinkling faelights adorn the bushes and the leaves of the large tress, creating a magical atmosphere that makes the forest glow softly and come alive. Further between the towering trees, shadows dance along the soft rustle of leaves that accompanies the silent chatter of the people gathered here on this day. 

"Are you ready, my darling?" The High Lord of the Night Court smiles up at his High Lady, his demeanour showing a male who is fully contented and at ease with his life. A male who finally has everything in his life that he deserves and has longed for for centuries. A male who has suffered the worst possible in life, and has survived this hell. A male who can finally be happy.

His family is finally complete with a mate and a son, who brings joy to him every day — the greatest luck in his life. Nyx's smile alone could light up the darkest night, and more than once a day Rhysand finds himself marvelling at the small wonder. 

The High Lord's eyes lock with Feyre's, violet clashing with blue and something sparks inside his chest. Once again the bond comes alive, glowing vividly, its tendrils stretching out and curling around their souls like a warm embrace. 

Feyre smiles at him, at her mate, her husband, the father of her son, her heart brimming with love and admiration, and she is once again reminded that she is mated to the most beautiful male on this planet, the most amazing one. He is stunning and perfect - absolutely breathtaking, his dark suit perfectly complimenting his whole appearance. His hair, black-blue, is glowing in the faelights, his eyes shimmering with nothing but love and affection.

Feyre's giggles and it reaches Rhysand and reverberates through his entire body, her smile just like Nyx's able to light up even the darkest part of the Court of Nightmares. His mate is stunning and breathtaking, and he fights the urge to punch himself to make sure this is really all real. 

"To marry you again?" Feyre quips, a sheepish grin on her lips.

A proud grin spreads over the High Lord's face. "To marry me again, my High Lady." He exhales deeply. "But now with everyone present. With our whole family and most importantly with our little son joining us." 

Rhysand takes her extended hand, and steps into her, drawing in her scent, drinking her in. For a split second, his gaze moves to Nesta standing behind his mate, standing behind her sister, and he smiles at her. Then he looks to his own brother. The tall Illyrian is wearing the biggest grin possible, eagerly waiting for Rhysand to take his place in front of him. Cassian's hands are folded behind his back, wings tucked in, he is dressed in a fine suit, hair neatly combed back. 

Below the small dais they find themselves standing on, is their whole family. Mor has been the one to lead Feyre down the aisle, holding tightly onto her arm, supporting her when Feyre felt like sobbing out of happiness. Her family cheered for her, their love wrapping around her like a tight embrace. Everyone is here on this special day — all the others as well, Elain, Lucien, Amren, Varian, and of course little Nyx, happily bouncing on his aunt's lap, smiling brightly at his parents, his eyes glowing with joy and love. 

The path leading up to the dais almost seems like a dream, petals scattered like confetti amid the lush green leaves. Strings of fae lights hang above, painting the scene with a soft, twinkling glow. Lanterns flicker, casting gentle shadows across the mossy ground, creating an absolutely enchanting atmosphere. It feels like a dream! It is a dream! But one that came true. Feyre's very own dream - the one the stars have made possible for her. The dream that was answered.

Feyre knows that her older sister Elain, with the help of her mate, Lucien, has truly outdone herself. They did all the decoration as well as the food preparation and Feyre couldn't be more happy and impressed about what they have created. It is truly stunning, so stunning she has to fight the tears now bubbling up in her eyes. This day…it is all she could have ever dreamed of. 

A starlit sky spreads above them, a breathtaking dome of twinkling lights and with a crescent moon in the middle, creating a magical ambience. 

When Rhysand takes both his mate's hands into his, he leans in and kisses Feyre's brow and then takes a moment to look at her, just admiring her - her beauty, her smile, her eyes, his mate. 

His gaze strays again, landing on Gwyn and Azriel, standing next to the altar made of wooden branches with flowers and ribbons adding the finishing touch to it. Candles stand among the flower arrangements, their flames adding warmth and intimacy to the setting. 

The High Lord has to fight the grin from spreading over his face, knowing it would reach from one ear to the other. The priestess truly managed to get Azriel up here to sing with her. She is the only one who he would do it for, Rhysand knows this, and it makes him happy. His brother has also finally found happiness. In his mate. In Gwyn. 

Next to Gwyn and Azriel, Deidre, a priestess and Valkyrie from the Library steps forward, a large and ancient book open in her eyes. She wears a smile on her lips, edging on pride - after all she is allowed to hold the ceremony. 

She looks at Feyre first, then at Rhys and smiles anew. "We are gathered here on this wonderful evening to witness the union of Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court and Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. Although they sealed their bond a long time ago, they decided they wanted a wedding celebration where their family is present." Deidre pauses and smiles. She brushes her finger down the page and moves over to the next one.

Feyre and Rhys can't tear their gaze away from each other though, their love for each other still so strong. Nothing could ever come between them. They are still fully enthralled by each other, hearts beating in the same rhythm. 

Rhysand admires how beautiful she looks in her dress — another one his mother made back then. It is breathtaking, long and light blue, just like her eyes, adorned with small diamonds, lace and sparkling elements. She almost reminds him of one of the travelling spirits in the sky — bright, full of life and joy, stunning.

You look breathtaking my mate. Absolutely beautiful. Feyre feels a warm brush against her mental shields and her smile brightens. 

And I love this dress so very much, but I have a feeling it will also look very good on the floor tonight. 

His eyes sparkle, glowing almost a little mischievously. She can't wait for the moment where he will pull the dress down her body, where his lips and hand will then touch her skin where formerly her dress has been. 

Tugging at her hands, Rhysand brings her a little closer, the warmth of their bodies mingling, as well as their scents, hearts beating in the same rhythm. 

It is then that Deidre continues. "Feyre and Rhysand have met a long time ago, and their start and their journey was definitely not easy - no, not at all. But all throughout they had each other, held each other, supported each other, became each other's anchor. Only together they could get here. Only together they managed everything the way they did. Their relationship is one of power and strength and most importantly love. With every obstacle put into their way, this love got stronger and stronger. They conquered everything, saved the world. Became parents to a wonderful child, the biggest sunshine of the Night Court."

Deidre pauses again when a shuddering sob leaves Feyre. She turns her head, and Elain places Nyx who is almost vibrating with excitement and anticipation on the ground. Elain gives him a little push, signalling him that it is fine to run up to his mother and father. And Nyx does not hesitate.

Carrying the box with the ring made of silver with a small diamond of the deepest blue on top, in his hand, he starts running. His violet eyes sparkle like the brightest stars in the sky when he sets out for his parents, his little feet loudly padding on the in pedals and leaves covered ground.

All formalities are forgotten — why should they even care about them on such a beautiful day only surrounded by their family. Feyre sweeps him up, cradles him in her arms and kisses his cheek. Simultaneously, Rhys presses a kiss to the young boy's forehead, a single tear slipping out of the corner of his eye and landing on Nyx's suit. 

"Oh, daddy," Nyx mumbles and reaches for his father who immediately takes his son into his arms. "Don't cry." But Rhysand can't stop it. But he has to laugh through his tears, a big grin parting his lips and he tips his head back. Nyx is so big already, it is scary - just a short time ago he was nothing more than a tiny bundle in his arms. 

And now…now he is no longer a baby. He is the biggest luck and joy of his life. Rhysand's happiness is right in front of him, right in his arms. He is so proud of him. Nyx is so wonderful and amazing and he couldn't be any prouder to call the little boy his son. 

With Nyx everything became truly perfect. This family is home and happiness and he knows he couldn't be any luckier. Everything has happened for a reason. Everything has happened for them to end up here, for them to get right here, to experience this sort of bliss. This is fate. Meeting his High Lady was fate. Their lives had been planned out long before they were born and everything has happened just for them to end up here, right in this moment. 

On one arm the High Lord of Night holds Nyx, his other hand once again reaches for Feyre's hand, holding it gently, his thumb sweeping over the back of it. Rhysand calms himself a little, meeting Feyre's gaze when Nyx rests his head on his broad shoulder. Then the High Lord dips his chin at Deidre, signalling her that she can continue now. 

She nods at him and inhales a deep breath, then opens her mouth. "The couple has always stayed true to each other, believed in each other, relied on each other and endlessly loved and supported each other. You can't picture one without the other anymore. There is no High Lord of the Night without his High Lady. The two of them share a huge amount of love, but also a bond stronger than anything else. The mating bond, tying their souls and hearts together with invisible strings stronger than any other force."

"I love you," Feyre breathes when Deidre finishes. "So much." She holds Rhysand's gaze but reaches behind her where Nesta unfolds a piece of paper and hands it to her little sister. 

"And I prepared something for you."

With trembling fingers, she holds the piece of parchment in her hands, her heart rapidly beating inside her chest, hammering against her rib cage. She steals a glance at Rhysand's eyes, then looks at her son, cradled against his chest. With a smile, her gaze returns to the paper and drawing in one last deep breath she finally opens her mouth. 

"Rhys, when we first crossed paths, I admit, I didn't quite see us here. It would have been the last thing I could have imagined. Our start was, well, rocky at best. I called you a prick more times than I can count on two hands, and well, the shoe I sent flying at your head…let's not mention that, alright?" She giggles and looks at him again. 

Rhys is close to breaking, chest heaving with deep inhales, his eyes glossy. 

"But through it all, I've learned that love isn't always born from instant harmony. You have to get to know the other, manage to cross obstacles, to fight for love, to accept and respect to live and let live."

A happy smile graces her lips. "We've weathered storms, and I've come to see your true self—the parts you hide from the world and for a long time hid from everyone apart from yourself. I didn't shy away from you. You did not scare me. I love you, I love every part of you - darkness, power and everything. In you, I found a partner, someone who helped me find the person I was meant to be. Someone who taught me how to read and write and how to love and accept myself the way I am."

"You encourage my strength, you make me feel alive, you gave me wings so I could fly and see the world on my own, conquer every part of it and find happiness."

She gazes deeply into his eyes, the love evident in her every word. "And you, you never feared my power. You are unafraid of what I am capable of, of my true self. You respect my choices, value my opinions, and always, always ensure that I have a voice and can speak my mind. You see me, respect me, and have always done so."

The tears run freely and Cassian steps forward, placing a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"And lastly," Feyre says and stifles a giggle. "Rhysand is the best mate in the whole word. Rhysand is the best husband in the whole word. Rhysand is the most amazing father any child could ever hope for. Rhysand is my mate, my husband, the father of my son, and I couldn't be happier."

As she finishes, a wave of applause, loud sobs and cheers fill the forest.

With Nyx on his arm, he lunges for her, cradling Feyre to his chest as well, showering her face with kisses. 

His vows, he reveals to her mind-to-mind, speaking softly, gentle, reciting everything he has told her so many times in their life together while Gwyn and Azriel start to sing their second song, falling into a perfect harmony, their voices beautifully matching, creating the most beautiful sound the Night Court has ever heard, enchanting everyone. 

Rhysand closes his eyes when he speaks to his mate through their mental bridge. He loves her, endlessly, and will never again leave her side, that is clear. "I love you my mate," he eventually says out loud, still holding her close, face wet with tears, kissing her brow. 

The song finishes, and Gwyn leans against her mate, Azriel folding his own hand over hers, holding her close while the two of them watch the High Lord and Lady. 

"Thank you for the beautiful words, High Lady," Deidre says, "Please, now, repeat after me!”

“I, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court take you Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court to have and to hold”

“...for better or for worse,”

“...for richer or poorer,”

“...in sickness and in health,”

“...to love,”

“...to cherish. … As long as we both shall live!”

“I do!” 

“I do!” Both of them say, tears gently streaming down their cheeks as they exchange smiles, their faces illuminated by sheer joy. Rhysand swiftly brushes his thumb across her cheek, locking eyes with her. Sniffling, she stares back at him, lost in the captivating gaze of those wonderful violet eyes she fell for years ago.

“I shall now pronounce you husband and wife once again,” Deidre announces.“You may kiss the bride now!”

With eager anticipation, Rhysand draws her close. Their hearts beat in unison as his lips meet hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It seals their vows. Cheers echo through the forest, celebrating love and joy. 

With radiant smiles, Feyre and Rhys step forward, hand in hand, their hearts brimming with love. Their family and friends line the path, their cheers and applause echoing through the forest, a symphony of joy and bliss reaching every nook and corner. 

Rhys carries his jubilating son, cradling him in his arms with a tender strength. The boy, wide-eyed and filled with wonder, looks around at the enchanting scene, his small hand grasping onto his father's shoulder. 

Feyre, her eyes sparkling with love and gratitude, walks beside him. Her hand, held by her husband, by her mate, warm against her own.

Petals rain down upon them. They meet everyone's gaze, full of love and joy while they walk over to the place where they will have dinner, the table and buffet once again beautifully decorated by Elain and Lucien - just like all the meals that have been cooked by them. 

Embraced by the warmth of their loved ones and the magic of their union, they celebrate until late into the night, Feyre and Rhysand joined by their whole family, dancing beneath the night sky, the wonderful songs enchanting their feet to keep moving and moving. 

Rhysand lets her twirl, her dress swishing over the ground, the lace and tulle rustling with every spin. When he collects her in his arms again, holding her close he kisses her head and in a low voice says, "To the stars who listen, Feyre darling."

"And the dreams that are answered." She beams and presses her lips against his, her hand placed on his chest, right atop his steadily beating heart. 

They dance and celebrate for long hours, getting lost in the love and joy of this day. And later, when Nyx is already fast asleep at Elain and Lucien's place, Rhysand makes love to his wife, to his mate, beneath a skylit sky, worshipping her and reminding her once again how much he loves her.

[prythianpages]

Outta My Mind | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has not been able to get you out of his mind and after receiving a gift, he decides to finally visit your shop and take you up on a love reading.

warnings: tarot reading, fluff

word count: roughly around 3,700

a/n: I am not experienced in tarot reading (I've only been on the receiving end and even then, it's been virtual) so I just pulled from google and what I've seen on tiktok. I apologize for any mistakes there and will happily fix them!

As Cassian has breakfast with his family at the Riverhouse, the usual lively chatter fills the room. Feyre was talking about Nyx’s reaction to soft foods, Mor cooing after him and Azriel laughing when Nyx pulled her hair. Rhysand had gone to check who had rung the doorbell. Cassian’s mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of a mysterious witch.

It was bewildering, really. 

The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, despite barely knowing you. Since he first set his eyes upon you at the bar, he felt something. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling but after you crashed into him, it all seemed to click into place.

You, a love witch, had found him.  

Just two weeks ago, he had been wishing upon the stars for love, and there you were, shining brightly with promise.

Your business card has been sitting on his nightstand since the night he met you. The pink card is like a night light, its shimmer never fading. He stared at it every night before drifting off, torn between fear and hope, wondering whether he should take you up on your offer for a love reading.

Yet, you had failed to fulfill one of the promises you made—buying him a shirt to replace the one you had stained. He could care less about the shirt, though. A part of him had been hoping you’d find him again, stumble upon him like you did at Rita’s. Because now that you held the answers to his questions, a deep anxiety gnawed at him. What if what you had to say wasn’t what he wanted to hear?

Fate was a fickle thing. What if it wasn’t in his destiny to have a mate? To have love? What if the stars had sent you to pull him out of his delusion and deliver bad news?

“Looks like someone got a present,” Rhysand says as he walks into the dining room with a handful of mail and another holding a package. He waves the bright pink package, ears straining to hear the sound it gives for a clue.

“Oh, they shouldn’t have bothered!” Mor quips, leaning forward in her seat with a grin.

But Rhysand places the package in front of Cassian, shoving his empty breakfast plate aside. The clinking of silverware against porcelain makes Cassian blink, snapping out of his trance.

“You?” Mor says in disbelief, eyes widened slightly.

Everyone turns their head toward Cassian, his red siphons gleaming under the sudden attention. He stares at the package, feeling the weight of everyone’s curiosity.

“Well?” Feyre urges, shifting Nyx in her arms to lean over too. “What are you waiting for?”

“Who’s it from?” Azriel asks, his shadows fluttering toward him, also curious. Mor stands from her seat to peek at the name, frowning when she finds nothing but Cassian’s name on the package. Feyre and Rhysand exchange a glance, the latter shrugging in response.

Cassian swats at the nosey shadows. There’s no indication of the sender. Yet, he has an inkling, the color of the package nearly screaming it at him. Knowing the others would simply follow him to his room if he chose to open it in private, he unties the red bow. There’s a nervous flutter of excitement in his stomach as he opens it.

Inside, he finds three neatly folded white dress shirts. The first two were silky and almost identical to the one you had accidentally stained. The third shirt was different. Bold. It was a short-sleeve, sheer mesh shirt that glimmered in the light. A shirt he’d never buy himself but felt inclined to try on. 

“Shirts?” Rhysand questions with an amused chuckle.

As Cassian unfolds the shirts, he notices that all of them have carefully placed slits on the back to accommodate his wings, as if they’ve been tailored after being bought. His family watches, intrigued and amused. 

“Well, come on, Cas. Who’s it from?” Feyre prompts and the babe in her lap babbles as if asking the same question, his tiny hands smacking the table in delight.

The room seems to hold its breath as Cassian runs his fingers over the fabric. He feels the subtle hum of magic beneath his fingertips. “Someone,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Someone I need to go see.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

Cassian ignores his family’s protest as he rises from his seat. Strengthening the shields of his mind, he thought he heard a hint of disappointment from Feyre. He didn't want to tell them about you. Doing so would only invite more questions—questions he wasn't ready to answer, as he was unsure of them himself.

He doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind for your business card, the address of your shop engraved into his heart after reading it so many times. As he makes his way to you, there’s that nervous flutter in his stomach again. It accompanies him all the way to your shop, threatening to burst when he finally stands in front of the door.

The words “Moonlight Spellcrafts” on the sign above shimmered softly, beckoning him inside with an irresistible allure. Bells chimed as he pushed open the door, and inside, he was greeted by a sharp “meow.”

A fluffy white cat with the brightest of blue eyes and pink bow around its neck blinks up at him before darting away and chasing after something unseen to Cassian’s eyes. His gaze follows the cat's movement, lifting to find you.

A vision in pink like clouds at the break of dawn. 

You wore a halter top that offered teasing glimpses of constellations etched onto your back, while your bell-bottom pants flared out with fluffy trimmings, resembling wisps of cotton candy that swayed with every step. Your platform heels tapped softly on the polished wooden floor as you guided a customer toward the wall of potions.

You pause, most likely from the sound of the bells, and just as you turn your head, Cassian swiftly ducks out of view. He hides behind a shelf—a challenging feat given his size and stature. He folds his wings tightly against his back to make himself as small as possible. He carefully walks around your shop, stealing glances at you every time he can.

He tells himself it’s to walk off the nerves.

Much like you, your store is bathed in hues of pink as well as reds and deep purples. Shelves line the walls adorned with an array of mystical books, each tome brimming with ancient wisdom and spells of the heart. Tarot cards of all designs are on display and glittering crystals sparkle under the soft lights. They cast a warm, inviting glow over the array of potions you are still showing the customer.

Heart-shaped mirrors with gilded frames adorn one of the walls and when he catches a glimpse of himself, he hastily fixes his hair. The fluffy white cat from before pops out of nowhere, startling him. It watches him intently, as if sizing up the tall, Illyrian male before it. Had it been following him the entire time?

“Honey!” A voice cooes. 

Not yours.

He follows the voice anyway and meets the gaze of a young fae. Her skin is a soft green, intricate lines adorning her face. Dark hair, painted with bright fuchsia at the ends, seems to glow as she stares back at Cassian from behind the counter, raising her eyebrows inquisitively.

Cassian manages a small smile before quickly turning away, avoiding any further interaction. He finds himself along a back corner where rare herbs and jars of unknown substances are meticulously organized. The air there is thick with mingling scents of rose, lavender, and sandalwood, teasing his senses and lingering in his nose until he sneezes.

Loudly. Obnoxiously. He swears he hears a startled cry from one of the customers inside the shop.

His wings flare slightly, stirring the jars behind him. Eyes widening, he turns to stabilize them, only to accidentally knock over other jars with his wings. He winces at the clatter and the subsequent sound of your approaching footsteps.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

“Are you alright?”

Shards of glass scatter across the wooden floor, the moonwater inside splashing out and spreading in a widening pool that stops at your feet. But your attention is focused on the hunched over Illyrian male.

Cassian stands up straight, hints of scarlet painting his cheeks, his broad shoulders tensing. “I’m sorry. I can pay for this.”

Amusement dances in your eyes, finding this situation all too familiar. “You’ll have to take me to the moon.”

He nods, the sincerity in his expression making the corner of your lips quirk up. He has no clue over the contents he just spilled.

“Just kidding,” you say, giggling at the look of relief that flashes across his face. “It’s just moonwater. I can easily make more next full moon. We really have to stop meeting this way, though. It’s a bit too messy for my liking.”

At your words, Cassian moves to clean up the mess but you stop him by raising your hand. Pink stardust flares out from your other hand as you summon a broom. You lean it against your hip, hesitating for a bit. With a hopeful look in your eyes, you snap your fingers, bracing yourself. Just in case.

Cassian can't help but take a step back. Also just in case as he recalls the way your magic had failed in cleaning up the stain on his shirt. But much to your relief, the spilled moon-water magically disappears. "Oh, thank The Cauldron," you murmur, sweeping the glass shards into one small pile before snapping that away too.

The sigh that leaves your lips is one of great relief. You wipe at the nonexistent sweat from your forehead. With a sweet smile, you look back at Cassian.

“I’m assuming you got my gift.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. I was also joking.”

“I wasn’t." Your smile falters. "I take fashion very seriously here, General.”

Cassian looked over your pink outfit again, trying his best to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the way you said his title. “Clearly,” he replies. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Magic.” You grin up at him, waving your fingers at him in a teasing manner.

His gaze narrows skeptically and you shrug in response. “Your wings and siphons gave you away. There’s not many Illyrians here in Velaris. Just the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed. And given that the High Lady was not with you and the lack of shadows around you and the way red suits you, I took an educated guess. It was easy to find you then.”

“Where’d you find the shirts?” He asks, giving into his curiosity. Though, he really wanted to ask how you knew they would fit. Not just his broad frame but his wings as well.

“Another perk of there being a few Illyrians in Velaris. I bought the shirts from a boutique up the street and then I visited a couple of tailor shops until I found the one familiar with dressing certain Illyrians. That’s why it took me a bit to get them to you. I do hope you like the third one. A little bold but I think you’d look great in it.”

Cassian’s gaze softens, touched by the lengths you went to keep your promise. “Cassian,” he says after a moment. “You can call me Cassian.”

“Okay, Cassian,” you beam, feeling a warmth spread through you at his name on your lips. “You can call me y/n, dear, spell-slingin’ sweetheart or just sweetheart. Whatever tickles your fancy.”

“Just don’t call me bewitching babe,” you add as an afterthought, nose scrunching up in a small grimace. “Or I’ll have to hex you.”

Cassian’s brows raise slightly, interest piqued, wondering how someone could ever get on your bad side. “Noted, y/n, ” he nods and you give an appreciative grin.

“I believe I also promised you a love reading, didn't I?"

You point your hand up and to the right, Cassian’s eyes following the movement to a vibrant neon sign that reads, “Love This Way.” The words are written in cursive, each letter beholding a string of small, glowing bulbs that twinkle like enchanted stars. The phrase is flanked by a trio of heart-shaped neon lights, each one pulsing and pointing toward dark, red curtains.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

Right. The reason why he came to you. Well, one of them, at least. The longer he lingers in your presence, the stronger the pull he feels towards you, blurring the line of reason. 

“Come on,” you beckon him to follow you but Cassian can’t bring himself to move. 

Sensing his hesitation, you pause, turning your head to look back at him from over your shoulder. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”

An odd yet thrilling shiver runs up Cassian’s side. His lips twitch upwards, indulging in the foreign sensation and then he’s following after you, careful to not knock anything else over.

"Can't say the same for the lovebugs that dwell in this place, though. Those sneaky little things love the element of surprise. They say it's luck if you're bitten by them. Means you've met your true love..."

As he walks behind you, he notices small altars dedicated to different aspects of love. Romantic love, self-love, platonic-love, erotic love... The flames dancing from the candles seem to burn with a life of their own, the ones from the passionate love alter swaying his direction as he walks past it.

You move gracefully, your presence as enchanting as your shop. There’s a pause in your step, the two of you reaching the dark, starry curtains. “Be a doll for me and tend to the front, will you, Moxie?” You call out, pointed ear twitching as you await a response.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cassian hears the young fae from earlier grumble.

As you lean in close to Cassian, standing on your tip-toes, even in heels, he's reminded of just how much he towers over you. Your hair brushes against his leathers, red siphons softly glowing as he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of roses and vanilla.

“She’s my little apprentice and a little upset that her spell went haywire and turned her hair fuschia instead of magenta.”

Cassian’s brows knit together. “What’s the difference?”

“I cannot believe you just said that!” You gasp in mock horror yet Cassian detects a subtle hint of sincerity in your tone.

“I can hear you, you know!”

You mouth a “whoops” to Cassian before exclaiming: “I’ll be in the back! Love you, my dearie!” 

Cassian watches in a curious, fascinated manner as you blow a kiss toward Moxie. Pink stardust glimmers and shimmers as it floats in the air, fluttering toward the young face. It meets her cheek with a small "mwah" and there's a softness on your features despite Moxie's groan that melts away at Cassian's earlier reservations.

His heart flutters in anticipation when you reach for his hand. Your fingers ghost over his wrist, sending a spark rushing through him, as you guide him forward while your other hand pushes the grand curtains back. 

“Don’t worry. This room is sound-proof,” you tell him. “Whatever you ask or speak will remain confidential. Cross my heart!”

Cassian’s eyes widen as he takes in the room that is also bathed in a palette of vibrant pinks and soft pastels. Yellow, glowing lights shaped like stars dangle from the ceiling and quotes of affirmations are framed along the walls. Two luxurious, bubblegum-pink sofas face each other, adorned with an assortment of colorful cushions in shades of turquoise, lavender, and blush. Between them, a low table draped with a velvet cloth holds an array of tarot cards, crystals, and other mystical tools, ready for the next reading.

“Have a seat,” you say, letting go of his wrist to seat yourself on the plush carpet. 

You had gestured to one of the sofas but Cassian follows after you, seating himself across from you. His large frame makes the small table look even smaller and there's a coy smile on your face. He wonders if you're thinking the same as him.

Dressed in black leathers with siphons and daggers hilted at his waist, Cassian sticks out like a sore thumb. Yet, despite his dark attire and rugged appearance, there’s an undeniable allure about him that seems to complement your ambiance.

Your eyes, wide and knowing, meet his. He swears for a moment your pupils formed a heart shape, but when he blinks, he finds them dilated into round circles. The star-shaped lights reflect in them, and he finds himself unable to look away.

“Is this your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”

Yes.

“No.” 

You give him a skeptical look, sensing the lie simmering beneath his calm facade. You may just be able to hear his racing heart.  “Are you scared?”

Yes.

“No.” 

“Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not,” Cassian insists, though his heart is ringing in his ears.

Humor twinkles in your eyes as you easily see through his lie.

“I’ll go slow and talk you through it,” you say, your voice teasing yet reassuring. “I'd offer to hold your hand too, but unfortunately, I require both for this,” you add, reaching for the deck of cards. “We can do a broad reading.”

The sound of shuffling draws his gaze from your eyes to your hands. He watches, mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. The cards seemed to whisper secrets only you can hear, the loose locks of your hair swaying gently from an invisible breeze. One card flies from your hands, and you catch it mid-air between two fingers.

You lay it before him with a raised brow. The Lovers.

"It seems you are destined for a profound connection. Something tells me it will be unexpected but undeniable.” 

A wave of relief washes over him, lifting a weight from his chest. There’s a small part of him that remains skeptical. It seemed too coincidental for you to pull that card during a love reading. The way he leaned forward slightly betrayed his doubt. 

He barely knew you, but he already found himself trusting you. There was something about you that was inherently relaxing, almost comforting—like the feeling of being at home. You sure were a master of creating a wonderful ambiance.

As you continued to lay out the cards that fly out, each one seemed to weave a story of passion and a deep bond. Cassian finds himself drawn into the narrative you’re spinning.

"Who is she?" he asks, his voice softer, more serious.

"Usually I can gather some general characteristics. I fear I'm at a blank here. But..." Your gaze narrows at the cards, studying them intently.  "She is someone who will challenge you, make you see the world differently. She'll walk you through all aspects of love. Someone who is closer than you think...” 

A shudder runs through you, those heart-shaped pupils returning for a brief moment. "You'll never feel alone again," you add, voice a mere whisper and tinged with a wistful longing.

Cassian feels a strange flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar sense of anticipation and yearning. "And when will I meet her?"

You draw the final card, lips curving into a pensive frown. “It's a little unclear. You may or may not have already met her.”

Cassian visibly relaxes, leaning backwards, his wings meeting the sofa behind him. At least it has been confirmed that there is someone for him. That's what had mattered the most to him.

His thoughts drift back to the days before in deep wondering. Could it have been the pretty fae at the bakery who had slipped an extra croissant in his order? No, she’s married... Maybe, it was the friend Emerie had brought to Valkyrie training yesterday morning…

You must sense the thoughts racing through his mind. “What’s your type?”

The question throws him off guard. He tilts his head thoughtfully. “I don’t have one.”

“What of your past lovers?”

“I fear there’s too many to recount them all. Do you remember yours?”

“It’s kind of in my nature to,” You laugh softly, a sound laced with a subtle bitterness that matches the distant look in your eyes. “There must have been important lovers in your life, though. Ones that lingered in your heart, beheld the title of something more…”

“My first girlfriend was a Valkyrie. She died in the great war.”

Your eyes glistened with sympathy and he hesitates, a mixture of contemplation and something unreadable flickering across his face before he continues. “My second girlfriend was strangely also a valkyrie. I trained her, taught her everything she knows. But it didn’t work out, she didn’t choose me…”

“It sounds like you do have a type to me,” you say, trying to lighten the situation. 

Judging by the look in your eyes, he knows you’re also familiar with the heartache that comes with past relationships. He catches the way your gaze flickers down to your soft, manicured hands, noting the fleeting light of wistfulness that crosses your features. 

You blink and suddenly your face lights up, beaming with hope. “Third time's a charm,” you remind him of the old saying and suddenly your entire face lights up, eyes beaming like a beacon of hope. You jump to your feet.

“Sizzling Cauldron!”

Cassian startles at your sudden outburst. He watches you as you begin to pace back and forth, murmuring to yourself. His ears strain to catch the words slipping from your glossy lips but he only catches “stars” and “wishes.” 

You look at him, eyes still shining bright.

“We were meant to be!”

Cassian’s heart skips a beat, his wings fluttering as he looks up at you. “What?”

“I was meant to find you–to help you find love.” You clarify, pointing a finger at him before letting out a delighted squeal. “I’ll be your wingwoman–well, wingless wingwoman, ha! This is going to be just wonderful!”

Cassian rises to his feet, watching as you continue to pace back and forth, moving your hands animatedly. He's sure you're burning a hole into the plush carpet. He looks at you in slight concern when you suddenly begin to speak in riddles, gaze flickering to the curtains behind you, contemplating if he should sneak out. Surely, you wouldn't notice in your current state...

"In a quest to help you find true love, I heed the guidance from the stars above. The Cauldron's blessing and The Mother’s gentle kiss I shall earn. And with my magic, I shall return. Once my strength begins to grow…what I seek, I too shall know!”

Cassian makes a face. “I’m not sure we’re speaking the same language here…” he trails off. But your excitement and joy are contagious.

“Help me, help you,” you clarify again, your pacing feet coming to a stop. The room seems to buzz with the energy of your determination.

You turn your body to face his, outstretching a hand. He eyes it for a moment. A jolt of energy passes between you two when he takes your hand in his, the red magic from his siphons dancing with your pink magic.

Your eyes lock, and for a moment, Cassian feels a deep, inexplicable connection.

 “So...what now? ” He asks, shaking off that feeling as he shakes your hand. It has to just be your power charming him, you're practically glowing. "Does this make us friends?"

You give his hand a squeeze, mirroring the hope that had tightened in his chest.

“The best of friends.”

a/n: Little do you know that the true love you're meant to help him find is literally you lol. I live for the irony in this. Also, hope Cas isn't too out of character. I just needed him to vibe with love witch in the beginning of this au. She's a little delulu but I hope you love it as much as I love writing it <3

Since I live for the aesthetic of this au, I put the pictures I used for inspo for love witch's shop below.

[a-v-j]

“Hey bud.. you good?”

Lmao, this is a nyxyverse rp-turned-drabble(?) me and @nyxus-nyx did as a finishing to averse's yanderefever. take note, im too lazy to actually polish it but do enjoy reading lol. its worth it i promise. This was right after @canned-ghost shot averse and everyone thought he's dead lmao

Enjoy!

Averse's final wave of fever kick in, he's really not feeling well, he's sluggish, shivering and really tired now from the asks. He just goes to lay down in wherever not caring it's stone cold.

Nyxy appears and spots Averse, he frowns and slowly walks to Averse. “Hey bud.. you good?”

Averse does not respond, he's feeling like shit and he's almost visibly shivering, he started murmuring, possibly a snarky quip but he's failing. He doesn't even bother to open his sockets, they feel too heavy but he's not asleep yet, he's just there laying on a stone cold bench thing, laying curled into himself.

Nyxy slowly walked up to Averses spot and sits down.

“Not havin a good day either, huh?”

He pats Averses shoulder. Giving it soft rubs.

“Damn your burnin up..”

Averse started murmuring again, trying his might to reply back. He manages to groan out "...cuz m'hot.." his voice hoarse and weak, he appears to chuckle on his own comeback but they all come in shaky puffs. He's shivering still, trying to curl in more to get warm.

Nyxy sighs and picks up Averse, he holds Averse in his arms and just holds em.

“True that.”

He chuckled looking down at Averse.

Averse tries to squeeze his eyes shut tighter, trying to block off the bright lights. His face was flushing and even his breath feels hot, but damn, it felt like Antarctica for him. So goddamn cold. He's silently thankful to be in Nyxy's embrace, it felt warm, gosh he needed that. He can feel himself slowly dozing to sleep, he's really tired. Never once he felt this tired before, he tried to turn and that's when he finally felt his body ached like hell. He groans as he tries to turn and snuggle closer to nyxy's warm body. His face his basically pressed against nyxy's chest. Averse made a very pathetic attempt of a chuckle as he hoarsely managed to groan. "mmm...tiddies.." his expression slowly turn to content.

Nyxy blinks but them laughs as they help him shit over, they hold hjm closer and chuckle. They hadnt seen him like this before. Its worrying. Hes overheating and could lead to heat stroke. So Nyxy lifts their hand on Averses head and uses a healing/soothing magic.

“Hm..”

Averse's expression soften, he felt a little bit better but he's still sweating like hell but shivering still. He tried to crack one eye socket open to take a look at nyxy...to say "thank you" perhaps.

He doesn't look like the menacing playboy asshole facade he always put on, he appears to be more...soft.. vulnerable...more "auto" like he originally is.

"..hey...."he croaked softly, he appears to try to tell nyxy something, prompting the other to lean closer to hear him better.

His hand went around to the back of nyxy's neck and pulled him closer, directing both of their faces to connect in a kiss!

Averse's softly pulls away, locking his half lidded eyes to nyxy's, there's nothing but soft tender emotions behind those sockets, nothing of the usual perverted looks he usually shoots at nyxy when he flirts.

"..call joe for me..." He lastly whispered as his body relaxes, head leaning snuggled against nyxy's chest and Averse slowly drifts to unconsciousness.

Nyxy stared in shock and flusteredness. Their face grew red. But they shake their head and glared at him playfully at his words.

“Whos Joe?”

He leaned down a bit more to hear, moving his hair so it wasnt in Averses face.

A small tired smile made it's way on averse's face, it's not out of sheer jerkiness but of playful nature. He sleepily mumbled,

 "...joe..mama.."

And with that, he then started snoring softly. He's asleep.

A digital holographic timer bar appeared above his head, showing the exact time he'll be sleeping. It tick down to "2 days and 58 minutes and 42 seconds remaining"

Averse went on shut down

The timer went away and all is left is a sleeping averse in Nyxy's arms

He won't be waking up anytime soon it appears…

They chuckled and stand up, the walk as they carry the limp skeleton. They go into a portsl and appear in Nyxy’s house. “Hope this’ll be to your liking..”

Nyxy lays Averse in their bed and pulls tje comforter on him. They smile and sit in a chair at the beds side.

“idiot..”

Skipped to 2 days after

The timer ticks down to 3...2...1

Averse open his sockets, his eyelight followed afterwards. It felt like he had slept for YEARS. He quickly squinted and felt his surroundings and realizes, he's on something...soft?

He felt more and came to the conclusion that he's on a bed.

A rushed memory flashed before his eyes and in mild panic, he scurries hurriedly to get up, leading himself to fall off the bed with a loud thud

"OW, fuck!"

Nyxy jumps awake as they notice hes awake. They quickly help him up. “You good bud? You cant just do that-“

They looked at him for any injuries.

Averse rubs his head and soon took notice of Nyxy infront of him. He stares at him, then back to the bed, then back to Nyxy

"..."

"DID WE FUCK?"

They turn red and shakes their head. “No idiot. You passed out for two days.!”

They let him go as they cross their arms looking away. And turning more red from the memory of the kiss.

“Dumbass..”

Averse took a couple of blinks

"..."

"Oh, right, i cant fuck" He chuckled as stood up, mentally slapping his forehead at the mere thought that he and nyxy couldve done something he's impossible to do.

He stretches.

"Man, im hungry. Wanna go out for some breakfast burritos?"

They smile and nod. “Been wantin them for days.”

They chuckle as they tie their hair up for a moment. They dont like going to public restaurants and gettin his hair messy. “Also, do you remember anythin?”

Averse stopped right at his tracks, he turned his head to face Nyxy

"Pffft... it was all pink and cloudy, it's vomit-inducing"

"Hehe! Just fucking with ya. I dont remember much"

He lied

"Taking a bullet to the head fucks with memories as they say"

He waved off, rubbing his forehead.

They shrug and open a portal by tearing open his wall with his claws amd turned to Averse.

“Faster way. After you.” They grin as they shake their claws a bit.

Averse pretends to swoon as he made his way to the portal "aww, such a gentleman. Im touched. Hehe"

"C'mon, ya dork"

Inviting nyxy over as they both go through the portal to finally get those breakfast burritos they should've shared two days ago.

The end :D

[caparrucia]

For the prompt meme, Cor and Nyx reunite after time apart, if it strikes you? Congrats on finishing your fic!

Thank you! Have some Witch!Nyx, because I haven't played with that verse in an age!

They meet again in the Nebulawood, exactly two years after the fall of Insomnia.

Rumor has it there’s a witch hiding in the woods, that she trades potions and elixirs for basic supplies. With the King dead and the Prince AWOL, the remnants of the Crownsguard and the mutinous forces from the Kingsglaive do not have the steady access to such things they once did. All the stashes remaining are carefully inventoried and painstakingly dosed out. But still, the rumors remain.

A witch in the woods, who cannot be found on command but who, if actually encountered, will trade a crate of potions for a week’s worth of water.

Once, a fledging recruit from Lestallum’s stronghold comes back with a crateful of elixirs and insists the witch asked for nothing at all.

It the rumor is true, Cor reckons it’s the elusive Witch of the Thicket, who’s been missing ever since Caem went up in flames. But it’s just as likely the rumors are false and it’s just a trap waiting for idiots to fall for it. Well, no bigger idiot than him around.

After a somewhat harrowing hunt – really, a series of increasingly annoying hunts, including what appeared to be a corrupted behemoth – Cor determines the following: the witch is no witch at all, and he is no she at all.

“You put on the ring, didn’t you?” Cor asks, watching Nyx sit back after their initial scuffle, which might have devolved into some playful sparring if not for the fact Nyx ran out of stamina halfway through.

Nyx grins, overgrown hair giving some credence to the misguided rumors, as it hides the bits of his face the obligatory witch-like cloak and hood doesn’t. His skin is charred and scarred, but not healed, glowing still like embers at the back of the fireplace.

“You know I’m a sucker for a bad deal,” Nyx replies, and beneath the ruin of his appearance, his eyes glint with the same stubborn, monstrous light they always did.

“I thought that was my line,” Cor says, offering a hand, trying to reach out.

“You shouldn’t get too close,” Nyx rebuked, but gentle, the way he always did whenever Cor tried to take a bunch of bad habits, some recurrent dates and their insistence to orbit one another, and make it into something approaching a relationship. “I’m due combusting any time now.”

“Combusting,” Cor says, deadpan.

Nyx grins, wide and wild and more than a little bit mad.

“They keep trying to smite me,” he says, eyes bright, “and I keep stealing their magic when they do.”

“Which you then turn into the supplies you’ve been distributing out of this shithole,” Cor surmises, impressed nonetheless at the sheer viciousness of it.

Nyx laughs.

“Hey, my shithole,” he shakes his head. “Fuck, it’s downright homey at this point.”

“You live in the skull of a dead behemoth,” Cor points out, because he can never resist the urge to quip back at Nyx and the reflex is there, like no time has passed at all.

Nyx laughs, a clattering noise, like a magpie but worse.

“I wouldn’t be a very good witch if I didn’t, right?”

Cor knows better than to nurse something as poisonous as hope in his heart. He knows better.

But of course, that has never stopped him before.