#and that all came full circle this season

[anpanman95]

JACK AND JOKER: Sacrificing Love against Tragic Love | Old Love vs New Love

They did it again.

Well, they’ve been showing us these contrasting parallels ever since the beginning.

Showing us that Jack and Joke’s new love is all about (self) sacrifice, and Hope and Save’s old love is all about tragedy.

I already knew this, but it hit me hard towards the end of episode 11 with this moment:

First of all this whole scene was an absolute masterpiece. I’m a music composer for the media, I write, study and analyze music for a living, and let me tell you this scene might be one of my top 3 moments of this show just because how the music was treated here. (The music actually adds on to the point I’ll make in a bit, by the way)

First, we have our self-sacrificing lovers. Jack and Joke’s love has been all about self sacrifice since the very beginning, starting with Joke turning himself to the police to set Jack free

and coming to a full circle moment when he gives the ring to Boss in exchange for Jack’s freedom, once more.

Joke has sacrificed himself, their love, and their happiness for the sake of others (in this case, Jack) twice.

They fight for the world. Their love is new love. They have a lot they need to go through to put themselves first, to put their wants and desires first.

Then, we have our tragic lovers. Their love is old love. They’ve been fighting against the world for each other, to finally be together and free, for a long time (even if it isn’t explicitly said, it’s evident when you see the lengths they’ll go for each other)

They don’t sacrifice their love, they sacrifice the world. And it has nothing to do with their personalities, or that they are bad people. It’s just they are so damn tired of everything they only have each other to rely on. They only have each other.

But where does that lead them?

To more tragedy.

[the music on this scene was impecable]

Jack and Joke’s new love still has room to grow, which is why they can sacrifice it. They let the world come in between them for the sake of others, while still loving each other dearly.

But again, their love is new. Fresh, still technically untouched and unharmed by outside things out of their control. Yes, the world is against them, but their reluctance to choose each other relies solely on their own fears and sense of responsibility to the world and their loved ones.

Hope and Save do not have that luxury, and don’t even want to have it. Their love comes first, because God knows how long they’ve been fighting for it. Old love that certainly already went through everything you can imagine.

It’s true we don’t get much of their backstory, but through their actions we can tell why they won’t sacrifice their love for anything.

Can you imagine what they might have gone through? What their love has faced?

Of course, they choose each other above all things, they had enough.

Jack and Joke will choose each other in the end, but they still have a long way to go (season 2? haha yes i’m delusional)

This doesn’t mean Jack and Joke don’t love each other enough. But even though they’ve known each other for a long time, they haven’t loved each other for that long.

Their feelings appeared five years ago in a little spark of life but it was so short lived they simply didn’t get the chance to even acknowledge it before the world came in between them full force.

The spark was only re-born and ready to be noticed when they finally had a moment to breathe, a moment of peace with no other worries coming in between.

Hope and Save have already gone through all that, have truly gone to hell and back.

Hopefully they’ll get their heaven soon.

Honestly I did not feel so much for them in the beginning. Their scenes felt underwhelming, and I wasn’t keen on them. But this episode left me absolutely in pieces. My opinion on them did a full 180.

They broke my heart.

I do hope they get their happy ending. They deserve it as much as our main couple.

Thanks for reading! Leave your thoughts, I love reading them❣️

[tuxedoferret]

Hextech and Void Theory

So here is my crackpot theory for Arcane Season 2 based on the evidence we have seen so far and before act 3 airs. I will say that I'm not a League lore expert but I did start reading about characters and settings unrelated to Piltover and Zaun. So, if you don't want theory crafting based off of vague League lore in case of spoilers, don't read this!

My theory comes in two parts but it has the same end result: whatever the fuck the corruption is, it definitely IS NOT magic/the arcane. From what I have read about magic in League lore it doesn't quite fit the aesthetic of the corruption we've been seeing. It DOES however fit the design philosophy of another realm: The Void

For those who don't know. The Void is a malevolent and sentient realm that exists outside and between spaces and universes itself. Literally a realm of nothingness. When the world of Runeterra came into existence, the Void did too, and it does not like that it exists. It wants to destroy the known universe so that everything is once again, nothingness.

The aesthetic and design of the Void match almost 1:1 to the designs we've seen of the corrupted hexcore and the the buildings of Viktor's commune.

League of Legends Void and Void denizens art:

The Hexcore and Viktor's commune:

The purple with gold trimming and the eldritch designs (unnatural, chaotic, full of holes), match up with each other almost exactly.

Circling back to my theory. I think there's two possibilities:

1.) hextech teleportation was NEVER connected to magic and instead was connected to the void this whole time.

or 2.) Using hextech teleportation drew the attention of the Void and it is attempting to seep into the world of Runeterra using it.

I specify the that it is the use of teleportation that started this because the corruption we see started there, and in season 1, it seems like that is where the void made contact with Viktor (the scene where he's in the gate's tower and stares into the lights). Which makes sense to me, because the teleportation (and this is my theory) cuts through the void to go to another place. This is what allowed the Void to start seeping in and start corrupting everything around it. It's also where Jayce, Ekko, and Hiemerdinger were stuck after the core of the hexgate absorbed them. This explains why Jayce is so freaked the fuck out after coming back and why he is determined to destroy it all. Because he knows the Void will use it to try and enter the world. He knows Viktor would never listen to him, because whatever "Sky" is, she is definitely not really Sky, and more likely is an emissary of the Void. And so, Viktor is firmly in the grasp of the Void.

[sweetieviktor]

"salvation", feat. viktor.

summary: you come to his temple and ask the herald to heal you.

word count: 540.

content warning: season 2, arc 2 spoilers!!! please, don't read if you haven't seen the series yet! some descriptions might sound even a bit sexual but this is a sfw work! i just got a bit carried away while writing sensations lol. also, viktor may be a little ooc since im still getting used to him on the new season.

author notes: i rushed this one hehe but its finally complete! i really wanted to write something based on season 2 and the insane amount of people saying things as such "i would join his church wtvr" or "i may believe in god now" made me think why not write this kind of thing happening? so here it is :))))

you heard the rumors spreading through the lanes, there was someone, a “savior”, helping the ones in need – the shimmer addicts, the sick and the dying. and you thought that maybe the herald, as they called him, could save you.

so you walked down the busy streets, passing by empty shops and crowded brothels, finally descending in the dark alleys until light reached your eyes again, revealing a bright environment, made with metal, all with different colors and textures, molded into organic shapes, like it was meant to be like this all along. contorted yet so beautiful. outside the arch separating the commune and the commoners, there were people just like you, asking for help and hoping for his salvation.

a man walked towards you, the white clothing draped around him accentuating the swirly metallic patterns engraved on his body. “if you have something that could possibly harm someone, i must ask you to leave those here. this is a place of peace”, you discarded everything you could think of, emptying all pockets you had and he looked at you with empathy on his eyes, while you left behind everything that you used during your worst times, letting go of a part of your story, letting go of your past self. “now, you shall come. he is expecting you.”

the man walked in front of you, guiding your path between tents full of people, healthy people, all dressed in white. some adults were working while the kids were playing and you were in pure awe, it all seemed so... perfect. a miracle that happened on the underground.

“the herald is waiting, you must go”, he gestured towards a round temple-like structure, tilting his head and leaving you alone shortly after, moving to the arch again.

you followed his words, walking till you reached where the herald was, in fact, waiting for you. flowing hair and royal blue fabric covering his glowing purple skin, all adorned with golden accents. he looked ethereal, almost inhuman, a god-like figure, a saint. the kind of saint that could fix the broken. fix you.

you came closer and he extended his hand in your direction without saying a word – it was not needed, actually –, you could sense his intentions, it was kind of a vibration, radiating off his fingers. he wanted to save you. so, when he touched your forehead, the whole world seemed to fade with a burst of light and all you could do was to feel. feel his cold fingers pressing further in your skin, feel the jolts it sended through your body, the way it ignited something deep inside of you, how you couldn't breathe, the way your veins burned and your heart rate increased, but it didn't hurt at all, instead, you felt alive. the metal fusing with your body, the magic circling both of you, how you could feel him inside of you, changing, morphing and purifying your flesh. it felt like you ascended to heaven and came back different, new, evolved. gloriously evolved.

he pulled back his arm, allowing your body to fall to its knees, and he knelt too, leaning on his staff, looking at you with his emotionless iridescent eyes, “now, you need not suffer anymore.”

[lydiaas]

insp. by @sun-undone

[cutemeat]

ok so i guess we're just moving right past that comment then

[alteredbeast]

THAT WAS THE SEASON FINALE?

[conflictofthemind]

Take Me To Church-Gate

A few weeks back, I received a tip that Noah and Finn came into Atlanta for a couple of days to rehearse a scene alone together that never ended up being filmed. This was around the time of the convention that Finn ended up missing in early June (and we initially theorized was for the playground scenes).

I since received confirmation of not only this, but that the rehearsal in question was for a scene at the UD church set. The filming never went through because Noah got an eye infection / sty, so the shoot was rescheduled for early August. If you've seen me mentioning looking forward to August, this is what that was about.

The Eye Infection:

Let me link this post to begin with, barring the 'James' stuff who has proven to be false. I heard about the eye infection and my alarm bells rang immediately - I have a friend myself who wears contacts occasionally and whenever they get sties, they're always caused by the contacts. When has Noah worn contacts before in the show? When Will is being possessed by the mindflayer in Season 2.

The church is an interesting location, because it most definitely has to do with Henry as well. When the original countdown for TFS was being posted, there were images of a church - a location that may have been changed during development. The characters most likely go there as part of the continuing Henry investigation.

And we know Henry was exorcised at some point, but it failed. The sign going into the church is also a likely clue to this, referencing Mark 9:29 - a verse about a failed exorcism.

Conclusion for this part: Will very likely becomes possessed again while in this church. My source tells me they usually only do big rehearsals like this for scenes involving action, too.

My opinion is that Will was never fully exorcised either. I mean, he still has a clear connection to the mindflayer with all the tingles on his neck and the possible literal psychic connection he has to Vecna as well.

It's Byler, Too:

I suspect that Jamie has some part in the scene as well (given they scheduled it during his latest block on set), but the focus is on Will and Mike - being the only two other main characters on set at the time, and the only two rehearsing.

But going back to the church thing.... I wonder what kind of symbolism is created by bringing two gay characters who both have a lot of internalized shame into a location that is honestly the source of said shame? It's honestly not even symbolism. It might just be referenced in plain text. Looking back at that church sign:

"This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer"

"This kind" really evokes the dehumanising language used by homophobes to refer to gay people. And the driven out by prayer part, well that really evokes conversion 'therapy' practices of praying the gay away. So what if this is where Will and Mike finally admit their love for each other, and kiss. And what if that is actually what's able to drive the 'demon' away - gay love.

Especially during the Satanic Panic arc we are sure to see come full circle with the reckoning of the Hellfire Club in Season 5.

An arc which Mike is surely at the centre of as well, being not only a Hellfire Member in the past, but being family to the new disappeared child in town.

And it's not like Mike's love is what's been shown to us time and time again as the way to break Will out of his mindflayer trance. Oh, wait.

Consider it incredibly fanfic-y, but it's on the table now. An action scene at the church involving Byler where Noah is wearing contacts - Will becoming possessed just like Henry again and being made to fight Mike as not only part of the plan to get all of the Wheelers, but also as something that would break Will's spirit permanently. They're all alone with nobody to help save Mike. But the plan is thwarted through the power of love, and in a place that represents a lot of shame for gay men (especially in the 80s) - they finally come together. And it is love that frees Will from his trance. Whether through a confession or true love's kiss. It would be so dramatic and atmospheric.

Additional evidence:

Jopper's Season 4 reunion and kiss inside the Russian church, of which this would be a parallel.

The whole idea of "we kissed, as though nothing could fall. And the shame was on the other side" from David Bowie's Heroes - the shame being in the actual church from the rightside up, but they're alone together on the other side / in the Upside Down.

It is also very likely that this scene is from Episode 5 or 6. I've asked and nobody seems to know which episode it is from, but following the logic of Episode 4 being when the characters enter in groups into the Upside Down, and here Byler are all alone, it is definitely after some time has passed and groups have split further. They're definitely not having any kind of confession in the first half of the season, so this timing sounds positive.

Multiple rehearsals. Noah contacting his acting coach recently for advice. Them even having to cancel an entire shoot because of a sty indicates close-up shots for sure.

Anyway. I'd really love to see people's thoughts on this. I feel like there's even more I could get into in follow-up posts, especially if other people chime in with their thoughts. I have been buzzing about this scene for weeks now. I want to start another gate for old time's sake, so please use #churchgate if you want to make your own posts about this!

[dark-moonlust]

Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 1

Pairing: Two nagas x human reader

Summary: it’s mating season for the nagas and you’re more than eager to satisfy your mates.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, naga smut, nagas have double 🍆🍆, double pen, tails penetration, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

Find the next parts of the series here.

The jungle was alive with the energy until the sounds of your naga mates turned it eerily quiet. Their frantic calls for mating rang out, the insects and birds turning silent. You heard them from where you were resting safely in your nest and soon you followed the sound of hissing and rustling leaves. Your mates had arrived. They had left to hunt and bring you food but the rut must have hit them at full force forcing them to return to you.

They entered the hut, closing the wooden door and hiding the soft glow of the moon. Thorne and Ragnor. Your nagas were handsome, their serpentine forms gliding closer to you. Their upper bodies were muscular, their shoulders broad, their stomachs bulging with muscles. They had striking amber eyes that glowed with predatory hunger. Their lower halves were long, powerful tails that coiled around you and made you feel protected.

Drawn by an irresistible desire to satisfy your mates, you urged them to come to you. You sat back on the bed and they circled you, their strong hands removing your loincloth—the only clothing you wore. Their tails wrapped around you, opening your legs wide to expose your slick pussy.

Your first naga mate, Thorne his eyes a deep gold, his scales green, started licking your breasts. Your other mate, Ragnor his eyes as light as the sun, his body red, bent down to claim your lips. They awakened your body with intimate touches and kisses, growling and hissing softly.

“Our mate,” Thorne said, forked tongue lapping around a hard nipple. “So eager to please.”

Ragnor hummed and let the tip of his tail brush lightly over your clit. “We will mate you, sweet mate,” he murmured. “It is time to plant our seed inside your little cunny. But first, we shall prepare you. Make you shake and cry in ecstasy.”

“Yes… hmnn please, yes,” you moaned in between kisses while a long tongue nudged in your throat.

Another tail came to prod the tiny rosebud of your ass hole. You heard the soft slurp of oil, felt human hands cupping your mound and fingering your ass. You gasped when both tails slowly entered you, surging deep in your pussy and ass. The tails— twice bigger than a human cock— stretched you, prepared you for their inhuman dicks.

The naga feeding from your mouth reached down to play with your clit while your other mate suckled your tits and whispered how good you were, how pretty your tiny holes looked around their tails. You panted as their tails pistoned back and forth in fluid movements. You climaxed on the spot, crying out while they looked at you entranced and praised you proudly.

“Good mate,” Ragnor drawled. “Now you give us this sweet little mouth. Add then we’ll fuck you. All night.”

With their tails still buried inside you, your mates helped you kneel before them so you could pleasure them. You grasped Ragnor's hips, your tongue flicking out to tease the slit that protected his dicks. With persistent licks, both shafts sprung up. You licked one cock while pumping the other. They were naturally slick with sweet lubricant. You heard a loud growl, and felt your mate grab a fistful of your hair as he undulated his torso and forced both cocks into your mouth.

Your other mate, Thorne, kneeled behind you, his strong hands cupping your breasts and running circles around your sensitive nipples. They kept up with the praise, telling you how good you felt around their tails, how pretty you’d look carrying their seed and what a good mother you’d be.

They switched places, and you started suckling Thorne’s cocks that had already emerged from his protective slit. You licked the fat tips that leaked with pre-cum and ran your tongue over the textured base. Impatient, he nudged deep inside your throat, both cocks stretching your mouth full. You worked hard, slurping their dicks while their tails claimed your holes, your body jerking back and forth, tits bouncing.

Pleasure became too much to handle. You came, gurgling around the twin cocks in your mouth, tails slipping in and out of your holes, your juices trickling down your thighs. The cocks finally left your mouth, a trail saliva trickling down your chin. Your mates licked it off, taking turns kissing your mouth.

Rearranging their positions, Thorne settled down and pulled you on top of him, your breasts squeezed against his chiseled chest. Your other mate slithered behind you, spreading your asscheeks apart to watch their tails lodged deep inside of you.

Nodding to each other, the nagas pulled their tails out of you, their appendages slick with oil and your juices. Then it was time to take four cocks. Slowly, two dicks thrust upwards, filling your pussy to the hilt. From behind, Ragnor's double shafts slipped past your now gaping asshole, reaching deep in your guts. Slotted together, the nagas gave you a few moments to adjust to the impossible stretch and depth.

“Alright, little one?” the mate behind you asked, kissing your nape.

“Mmnnn—yes, move, pl—ease!"

You whined when they finally began to fuck you. Two huge cocks owned your pussy, while two more claimed your ass. Your holes were stretched around the thick shafts, more wetness dripping down your thighs and all over their scaly bodies. Your belly was swollen, rounded with the evidence of your mating.

Thorn's hands grasped your waist as he helped you move and ride their dicks. A forked tongue licked across your neck as Ragnor fingered your clit, stroking and teasing in time with their thrusts. The two nagas worked in perfect harmony, their bodies slithering and leaving you breathless. They never left you unfilled. The pleasure was intense, building and building with each thrust.

When you finally came, the explosion of their cum rocked your world. All four cocks pulsed and shot spurt after spurt of their seed, their feral hissings echoing through the jungle. Hot cum filled you up, your belly expanding further until you couldn’t hold back no longer. Your muscles seized and you clung to them, nails digging into their scaly bodies as you surrendered to ecstasy.

Crying out and sobbing in pleasure, you collapsed on your mate’s chest. He rubbed your cheeks and kissed your dry lips softly.

Once again, your mates changed positions.

Their cocks left you, your cunt and ass leaking buckets of naga cum. You winced but sighed softly when they guided you to lie down on your back, their long tails wrapping lovingly around your arms and legs. You turned your head and took two cocks into your mouth, while your other mate sat between your legs, thrusting into your pussy until he was balls-deep. Trapped between their strong bodies, you suckled and whimpered their names as they thrust inside you, spitroasting you in perfect symphony.

You tried to speak around a mouthful of dicks, tell them that your ass was left empty. But they quickly took care of it, both their tails squeezing inside and filling you deeply. You keened loudly while the nagas cupped your tits and rolled your swollen clit. You shattered and cried out, your orgasm intense and blinding. They followed right after, your stomach bulging with cum and the force of the cocks penetrating you.

“Such a good little mate for us,” Thorne said, his hands rubbing your belly protectively, feeling the gentle movements of the shafts and tails inside you.

“You have sated us, taken everything we had to give—our tails, our cocks and loads of our seed,” Ragnor praised. “You have honored us, mate.

"I love you," you whispered, your eyes closing.

“We love you more, little one,” they both said, whispering kisses on your skin.

Spent and satisfied, the nagas held you close and lulled you to sleep while keeping you full of their cum. It wouldn’t be wise to clean you yet. Their seed had to stay a while in order to take.

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Make You Feel My Love I Teaser

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, smut

A/N: Based on this request by anon. Another spooky fic for the spooky season! 🖤

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault.

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel.

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles.

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts.

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up.

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper,

“-you know”

“No, I don’t”

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye.

Does he not believe you?

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss.

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?”

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video.

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back,

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh”

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that,

“Aemond, please, I have more”

You sound so small. So defeated.

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry.

So cold.

Maybe it’s what you deserve?

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain”

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a few months ago.

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you.

Full fic coming on November 1st!

[brunchable]

This is Your Boyfriend Mom? [3]

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Our savage wittle boi Lucas x f!Reader.

Summary: It's Lucas' 7th Birthday and Bucky finally meets the Dad from Finance. Bucky also FINALLY got a haircut lmfao.

A/N: I will just keep posting Step-Dad Bucky content, this doesn't really have set plot, just cute and funny moments while Bucky navigates how to be a Dad.

The Night Before the Party

You were busy setting up the last of the birthday decorations when you heard the front door open. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then Lucas came sprinting into the living room, eyes wide, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Mom!” he shouted, excitement and shock mixed in his voice. “Bucky’s back, and... uh, something’s wrong with him!”

You raised an eyebrow, turning toward the door just as Bucky strolled in, a smirk playing on his lips. You froze, your hands still holding the banner you were about to hang up.

Bucky had chopped his hair. Gone were the long, unruly locks he’d been hiding behind for months, replaced by a clean, short trim that made him look—well, if you were being honest—like he’d just walked off the set of a cologne commercial. Looking absolutely handsome.

“Wow, look at you. All... polished.” You blinked, trying to suppress a grin.

Before Bucky could respond, Lucas crossed his arms, pacing around him like a tiny detective on the case. “So, Mr. Metal Mop finally decided to join the human race, huh?”

“Really, Lucas?” Bucky sighed.

“Oh yeah. You’re like a whole new person,” Lucas continued, squinting at him. “Seriously, who are you, and what have you done with the walking disaster that usually lives here?”

You let out a snort of laughter as Bucky’s jaw twitched. “It’s just a haircut, kid.”

Lucas tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he pointed dramatically at Bucky’s head. “This? This is not just a haircut. This is a ‘I’m about to show everyone I’m the coolest guy at this party’ haircut.”

“What? No, it’s not! I’m not trying to show off.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, smirking like a seasoned detective who’d just cracked the case wide open. “Oh really? ‘Cause you didn’t care about looking like a caveman until now, right before my party. Coincidence? I think not.”

“I just felt like a change, alright? This has nothing to do with the party. I’m not trying to outshine anyone.” Bucky crossed his arms, standing taller, trying to play it cool.

Lucas grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Sure. So, you just happened to get a haircut right before a big event? Not competitive at all?”

Bucky groaned, clearly trying to keep his cool. “I’m not trying to compete with anybody. I just thought I’d make things... easier for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right. Easier. You know, if you wanted to look good for once, you could’ve just said so.” Lucas snorted, shaking his head.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as he quickly looked to you for backup, but you were too busy laughing to jump in.

Lucas leaned in dramatically, whispering, “You can relax, Bucky. We all know Mom doesn’t love you for your looks.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides as Bucky stared at Lucas, half-amused, half-offended.

“I’m not—,” Bucky started, running his hand over his hair again. “It’s just a haircut!”

“Oh, sure,” Lucas said, stepping closer, his face serious but his eyes full of mischief. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that Patrick’s gonna be here tomorrow? You’re not trying to look cooler than him? You know he works out, right?”

Bucky frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Patrick works out?”

Lucas shrugged. “Yup. I heard him mention it once. But hey, at least now you look like you can keep up.”

“Please. I don’t need a haircut to keep up with your Dad.” Bucky crossed his arms and scoffed.

Lucas smirked, still circling him. “Mmhmm. That’s why you’re all cleaned up—so you can make sure nobody at the party outshines you.”

You were practically doubled over at this point, tears streaming down your face from laughter.

“I’m not competing with anybody!” Bucky insisted, throwing his hands up.

“Right, because getting a ‘too cool for school’ haircut right before the party is totally not competitive.” Lucas grinned wider, seeing that he had Bucky cornered.

Bucky clenched his jaw, still trying to hold his ground. “This is a tactical haircut. Streamlined. It’s practical.”

Lucas grinned, clearly not buying it. “Oh, tactical, huh? Right. Is that what you’re gonna tell everyone tomorrow? ‘Hey, check out my tactical haircut. You like?’”

Bucky chuckles and points at Lucas, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done.”

Without warning, he lunged forward, scooping Lucas up and flipping him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucas squealed, laughing uncontrollably. “Bucky! Put me down!”

“Oh no,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he carried Lucas toward the couch. “You’re gonna sit here and think about your life choices.”

Lucas, still flailing and laughing, managed to gasp, “At least I didn’t need a haircut to look cool!”

Bucky plopped him down onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, kid. You just wait.”

Lucas grinned up at him, still breathless from laughing. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, give me a tactical timeout?”

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side here.” Bucky glanced at you, exasperated but unable to hide his smile.

You finally managed to calm down enough to speak. “Oh no, I’m staying out of this. Lucas is absolutely right.”

Lucas beamed with pride as he gave you a thumbs-up. “See? Mom knows what’s up.”

Bucky groaned again, dropping down onto the couch beside Lucas. “Alright, fine. Have your fun tonight. Tomorrow, though, I’m stealing all your cake.”

Lucas gasped, feigning horror. “Not the cake!”

Bucky grinned, leaning back. “Oh yeah. Tactical move.”

× × × ×

The birthday party was in full swing, with kids running around, balloons everywhere, and Lucas at the center of it all. You were watching from a distance, laughing softly as Bucky awkwardly navigated the chaos. He was holding a cupcake in one hand, clearly out of his element, but smiling nonetheless. Everything was going smoothly.

The Avengers were scattered around, trying their best to blend in. Clint was at the snack table, sampling every kind of chip he could get his hands on. Tony was in full I’ve-paid-for-everything-here mode, handing out goodie bags like they were shares in Stark Industries. Nat and Steve were casually watching the kids play, exchanging side glances, while Sam was trying (and failing) to explain some complex game rules to a group of seven-year-olds.

Everything seemed perfect.

Until he arrived.

“Uh, hey,” Bucky muttered to you, nodding toward the door. “That’s, uh… him, right?”

You turned to see Lucas’ dad, Patrick, making his way into the party, looking a bit too put-together for a kids’ birthday—pressed suit, perfectly styled hair, and an aura of someone who had just closed a very important deal five minutes before arriving.

“Yep. That’s Patrick,” you said, trying not to laugh at the grimace on Bucky’s face.

Patrick spotted Lucas and waved. “Hey, buddy! Happy Birthday!” He strode over confidently, handing Lucas a brightly wrapped present.

Lucas opened it, pulling out a brand-new Nintendo Switch. He looked up at his dad and gave a polite smile. “Uh, thanks, Patrick.”

Bucky, still watching from a few feet away, cocked his head. “Why’s he callin’ him Patrick?”

You shrugged, whispering, “Lucas just started calling him that on his own. I think it confuses him.”

Patrick glanced over, finally noticing you and Bucky standing there. He smiled—though it was more of a tight-lipped one—and made his way over, extending his hand to Bucky.

“Hi, I’m Patrick. Lucas’ father,” he said, with an air of someone who’s used to introductions being brief and businesslike.

Bucky hesitated for half a second, staring at Patrick’s perfectly manicured hand like it might explode. Then he awkwardly wiped his own hand on his jeans before shaking it.

“Bucky. You know, the boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air like an awkward mist. Patrick’s smile twitched. “Ah, yes. The… boyfriend. Great to meet you.”

They stood there, shaking hands for what felt like five or ten seconds too long, neither one letting go, each one’s grip tightening ever so slightly. You watched from the side, holding back a laugh as the tension built.

Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and let go. “So, uh, how’s the party going?”

Bucky shrugged. “Good. You know, kids. Loud. Messy. Chaos.”

Patrick nodded, chuckling awkwardly. “Ah, yeah. Well, you know, in finance, things are a bit more... orderly.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Finance, huh? That sounds... fun.”

Patrick straightened his posture, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, it’s very rewarding. Numbers, investments... making sure the market flows smoothly.”

Bucky blinked. “Yeah, I bet. I usually just stop markets by throwing people out windows.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Patrick stared at Bucky, unsure if that was a joke or a confession.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand. “So, how about that gift?” you asked, trying to change the subject. “Lucas, do you like it?”

Lucas, who had wandered over to Bucky’s side, gave a polite nod. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Patrick smiled, clearly not noticing how forced Lucas’s enthusiasm was. “Glad you like it, buddy.”

As Patrick turned to talk to one of the other parents, Bucky crouched down next to Lucas and whispered, “Hey, what’s up, buddy? You don’t seem that excited.”

Lucas looked up at Bucky and sighed. “I already have a Switch. He bought me one for my 6th birthday. He just… forgot.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, glancing between Lucas and Patrick, who was fidgeting with his phone. “Ah. I see.”

Patrick, overhearing, laughed nervously. “Well, uh, you can never have too many Switches, right?”

Bucky stood up, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah. Or, you know, you could... I dunno, maybe remember what you got your kid for his birthday last year.”

Patrick blinked, clearly not sure whether Bucky was joking or not. “Well, you know, with finance and all... numbers just blur together sometimes. I have a lot on my plate.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Right. Numbers blur. Must be hard to forget when you’re counting millions.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

Patrick chuckled, but it was the kind of chuckle people do when they’re uncomfortable. “Yeah, well… finance life.”

Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, but I bet remembering your kid’s birthday gifts doesn’t really blur with anything, does it?”

Patrick looked away, clearly flustered, mumbling something about "busyness" as he shifted awkwardly in his suit.

From the other side of the party, you could see Clint and Tony watching the exchange with amusement, whispering something to each other while Steve shook his head at the spectacle. Nat gave a sly smile in your direction, clearly picking up on the tension, while Sam made a “yikes” face, pretending to zip his lips as if to say, Yup, this is awkward.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, and you let out a snort of laughter, patting Bucky on the arm. “Well, Lucas, now you can... switch between your Switches?”

Lucas looked up, a confused smile on his face, while Bucky chuckled softly under his breath. Patrick, however, just stood there, looking like he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

Patrick, cleared his throat and forced a smile. “So, Bucky, what did you get Lucas for his birthday?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second before smirking. “Oh, I didn’t go the ‘two-of-the-same-gift’ route,” he teased, earning a snicker from you.

Patrick’s forced smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Right, but I’m sure you got him something nice.”

Bucky gave a nod, gesturing toward the corner of the room. “Got him a custom-built bow and arrow set.” He paused for effect. “You know, something a little more memorable.”

Patrick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A… bow and arrow? For a seven-year-old?”

Bucky crossed his arms, still smirking. “Hey, I’ve got a friend who’s pretty good with those. Thought it might be a good skill to have. Besides, Lucas loved it.”

Patrick glanced over at Lucas, who was currently showing the bow set to Clint, who was eagerly demonstrating how to hold it properly. Lucas was grinning from ear to ear.

Patrick, trying to recover, chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m sure the Nintendo Switch will still get plenty of use.”

Bucky leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough so only Patrick could hear, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if Lucas forgets he already has one.”

Patrick's smile tightened again as he awkwardly laughed, clearly regretting asking.

From the sidelines, you could see Tony and Sam observing the whole interaction with raised eyebrows. Tony leaned over to Sam, whispering, 

“I’m giving this five minutes before Finance Dad taps out.” 

Sam grinned, nodding in agreement.

× × × ×

The birthday cake was finally brought out, candles lit, and the room filled with the excited chatter of kids and adults alike. Lucas stood proudly at the center, his face glowing in the soft flicker of the seven candles. Everyone gathered around the table, cheering him on.

"Alright, everyone!" you called out, smiling down at Lucas. "On three! One… two… three! Make a wish, Lucas!"

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks before blowing out all seven candles in one swift breath. The room erupted into cheers, and you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

Just as the cheers started to die down, someone in the crowd—most likely Tony—yelled out, “Time for a family picture!”

The laughter and chatter quieted as you, Lucas, and Bucky moved toward the cake, ready for the photo. But, just as Bucky stepped up beside Lucas, Patrick appeared at the other side, standing just as close.

Both Bucky and Patrick froze, their eyes locking in an awkward stand-off. Neither moved, both unsure of what the protocol was in this moment. Patrick chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.

“So… family picture, huh?” Patrick said with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah. Family picture,” Bucky replied, his tone flat, clearly unimpressed.

The two men stood on either side of Lucas, staring at each other, neither willing to give up the spot closest to the boy. Lucas, meanwhile, was too focused on choosing the biggest slice of cake to notice the tension brewing between the two.

Clint, who had been quietly observing the whole thing from the side, leaned over to Natasha and whispered, just loud enough to be heard by others, “Looks like someone's gotta blink first.”

Natasha smirked but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her.

Sensing the growing awkwardness, you tried to step in. “Um, you know what, why don’t we take a couple of pictures? That way, everyone gets in,” you suggested, hoping to break the standoff.

But neither Bucky nor Patrick moved. Instead, they both shuffled even closer to Lucas, determined to be the one standing right beside him. Patrick forced a smile, trying to mask his discomfort.

“Well, I mean... I’m his dad, so...” Patrick began, his voice light but strained.

“And I’m here every day,” Bucky shot back, his voice deadpan, arms crossing as if he was daring Patrick to push further.

They stared at each other, tension hanging in the air, both waiting for the other to step back. By now, the Avengers had all noticed. From the other side of the room, Tony leaned over to Sam, his voice a stage whisper that was impossible to miss.

“Who’s taking bets? This is about to get good,” Tony said, grinning.

Sam chuckled. “Ten bucks on Bucky. He’s got that murder stare locked and loaded.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping forward before things got any more awkward. 

“Alright,” you said, laying down the final word. “Bucky, you can be in this one. Patrick, you’ll be in the next one.”

Both men blinked in surprise, caught off guard by your no-nonsense tone. Bucky gave a small, smug smile and slipped into place beside Lucas, casually throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

Patrick nodded stiffly, his smile tight and forced. “Sounds fair.”

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands dramatically, clearly reveling in the tension. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Everyone say ‘awkward’!”

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, Bucky’s subtle triumphant grin beside Lucas, while Patrick stood to the side, looking like he was mentally calculating how soon he could make a polite exit.

[jarofstyles]

Moonflower

Hi my lovelies! I’ve got a Witch H x Witch Y/N piece for you guys!! I hope you’ve enjoyed the spookier stuff, this one is filthy and sweet with a magical vibe 🔮

Check our out Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 5.8k

Warnings- magic, rituals, witch stuff, potions that effect arousal and that sort of thing, unprotected sex, spit play if you squint, soul ties, etc

She caught his eye across the fire.

He hung back at the tree line, as most of the men did. The dance dedicated to the moon goddess, Divine Feminine, was performed only by the women in the coven, but the full moon circle ritual was open to all. She should have known he would come crawling out of the shadows eventually.

Her heartbeat was thudding harder in her chest after finding the confirmation he was there. The relationship she shared with Harry had always been a complex one, but it was one she cherished nonetheless.

He tended to stick in his cottage with his books, his spells, the incantations muttered by his deep, raspy voice. A bit of a loner, he was, but a valuable asset to them all. While he wasn’t much for group activities, he was very active in the one-on-one space. specifically seeking Y/N out for potions, practicing with her and somehow finding his way between her thighs. She found herself waiting for those moments, eating them up each and every time. It seemed to get more frequent lately- not that she was complaining.

Harry made her nervous in a good way. He challenged her, made her a better witch. But he was a little hard to read at times. She wasn’t sure where she stood or what their relationship was. All the witch knew was that he had been seeking her out more often, finding his way to get his hands on her and excuses to talk to her whenever he could and she loved every little bit.

His eyes felt hotter than the flames licking the air, the music slowing as the sparks spit up into the sky. The offering was burning in the pit, and she could feel the magic in the air. It was only natural with a bunch of magically incline folks around.

That, and the fact that the women were all fully nude, and the heat of the fire could be felt on bare skin.

As the ritual came to an end, she ignored the feeling of his eyes on her- and the giddiness it was sending towards her stomach- as she stepped back towards her velvet ritual robe. He’d approach her. She could feel it.

Harry’s footsteps would have been almost silent if it hadn’t been for the crisp leaves on the ground for the season. It gave her a chance to know he was coming, though he knew she was aware his eyes were watching as she wrapped the velvet robe around her, the fabric soft and warm against her skin- though not as warm as it should be. His gaze lingered on the way the fabric draped over her curves, the way it pooled at her feet. He could almost smell the scent of her, the mix of chamomile, jasmine and something sweeter, more unique to her alone as he trailed closer to her.

The same song and dance, but it didn’t get old. Not to him. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, holding her gaze for a long moment before he stepped out of the shadows. "Y/N.”

“Harry.” The girl replied, tugging her hair over her shoulder, out from under the robe. The moon lit him from behind, the fire from the front. While people could call him a bit odd, perhaps a bit unfriendly, they couldn’t call him anything but handsome. The man was gorgeous, almost unfairly so. Sometimes she wondered if it was possible he had put an incantation on himself to appeal to her deepest rooted desires in attraction, but it wasn’t possible. At least from her knowledge. It wasn’t a love spell either, because the obsession wasn’t there- but the curiosity was. It always lingered.

Seemingly on both ends.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” She tied the belt around the robe, crossing her arms over her chest. “You didn’t tell me when I went to borrow your book yesterday.”

"Didn't think it was necessary," Harry replied, his voice as smooth and dark as honey dripping off a spoon. He took a step closer to her, the fire casting the most alluring glow on her face. He could see the pulse at the base of her neck quickening, and he knew she wasn't as immune to him as she tried to portray. "Besides, I knew you'd be here. You always are."

“Well, it’s the most important ritual of the year for the women.” She gave him a look. “But you tend to avoid the more social situations. It’s like flipping a coin.” People did sometimes place bets but he didn’t need to know that. “Am I the reason you decided to haul yourself out of your little lair, then?”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and husky, sending a shiver through her despite her best efforts to subdue the reaction. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. "Partially," he admitted, his gaze sticking to hers. "But mostly, I just wanted to see you dancing tonight." He stepped closer, his face inches from hers. "You look absolutely divine in the moonlight like that, Y/N."

Seeing her nude, free, moving around so passionately was beautiful. It was something he wanted to see again. She could be a goddess herself if she wanted to be. Sometimes he was highly aware she underestimated her beauty and her power, but this was one of the most glaring moments.

“You’ve seen me naked quite a few times.” She muttered, voice quiet as she raised a brow at him. If he felt the heat on her face she would blame the fire, or the dancing, but it was definitely from him. Y/N was rarely, if ever, flustered by a man- but he managed to be one of the only ones who had her feeling all out of sorts and blushy. “I’ll take it as a compliment, though. There were plenty of naked women here tonight. I’m sure you enjoyed it.”

Harry's lips curled into a smirk at her words, his eyes glinting with mischief and something darker, more primal. "But none of them are you." The witch murmured, his voice soft and intent. He reached out, his fingers trailing down her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I may have seen you naked before, but it never fails to take my breath away."

“Harry.” She warned softly, turning to the side. It was an open secret, really. People sort of knew that she and Harry fucked, considering she wasn’t able to be quiet when he did, but tonight was different. Tonight was a ritual night, and traditional rules didn’t go.

She knew what he was doing.

“If you wanted to fuck me tonight, you can just say that.” Soon, the forest would be filled with the sounds of pleasure. The people who wanted to go home would disperse and the others would strengthen their bond to the moon, elevating their power through their sexual energy.

Harry's eyes flashed with heat at her blunt words, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I want to do more than just fuck you tonight, Y/N," he said, his voice a dark purr. He pressed against her , one hand coming to rest on her hip as the other slid up to wrap around her throat, not squeezing, just...there. "I want to worship every inch of your body under the moonlight. But I meant what I said. Not tryin’ t’soften you up.”

Yes. He didn’t want anyone else to do this with Y/N. He wanted her.

“I have to ask, though… Did you bring any of that fun stuff we tried out last month with you?”

Y/N’s body felt a new level of warmth as he pulled her into his body, letting her head fall back to look at him. She knew exactly what he was talking about- and she did.

Realistically, she knew he was going to do this. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, but this was the outcome she’d wanted. Packing the two pink vials into her robe pocket, she’d tried to manifest him showing up so he could be the one to take the potion with her and experience the pleasure she had put into it.

They’d played with it a few times, when she needed to experiment with it. The first time being before she sold it off, she needed to test the batch and… well, Harry was available, and it had been the start to their little arrangement.

“I do have it.” She pulled the vials out of her pocket, letting them clank in her palm. “Is that what you want to take tonight?”

Harry's eyes locked onto the vials, a predatory gleam appearing in their depths. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately. "Mmmm, you read my mind, gorgeous. S’almost like you knew I’d be here for you." His hand slid from her throat to tangle in her hair, tugging her head back further. "I thought you'd never ask." He plucked one of the vials from her palm, holding it up to the moonlight. “Open.”

With a wicked grin, Harry unstoppered the vial and brought it to her lips. Y/N parted her lips, and he slowly tipped the vial, pouring the shimmering, pink-hued potion into her mouth. A few drops spilled over, trailing down her chin and neck, glinting in the moonlight. "Swallow for me, Goddess. Take it down."

She tilted her head back further, her throat working as she swallowed the potion. Harry's eyes were riveted to the movement, his voice growing hoarse. "That's it, almost done with it. You take it so well. Open up for me again." He brought the vial back to her lips, repeating the motion until the vial was empty, the last few drops spilling over her chin and onto her bare breasts.

He tossed the empty vial aside, his focus solely on Y/N. His touch gentled, his fingers trailing down her neck and collarbone, smearing the spilled potion across her skin, letting the residual warm her and spread the sparkle over the expanse for him to lick up later. "You're gonna get messier before this night is over."

Harry took the second vial, his eyes never leaving hers. He brought it to his own lips, tilting his head back and draining it in one long pull. As he swallowed the last drop, a shudder ran through him, his pupils dilating with the rush. "Fuck, that's...intense." He licked his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness. "I can feel it already. My senses are heightened." His head tilted as he looked at her curiously. “Y’did some work on it and didn’t consult me? What a shame.” He clicked his tongue, taking hold of her hand, walking them further back into the trees. “C’mon.”

As they walked, Harry's hand tightened around hers, his grip firm as he squeezed their palms together. Pulling her along, his steps grew surer with each one as the potion took full effect, warming his blood further. The spot he led her to was somewhat secluded, the trees dense around them, moon filtering through the canopy above to cast dappled light upon their faces. He turned to her, his eyes gleaming with desire that had been heightened. The sounds of pleasure had already started out in the other parts of the forest, but he was focused on her as he muttered under his breath. She couldn’t quite make out what he said, but realized quickly as the long grass weaved together out of the thin air that he had cast an enchantment to make the ground softer for them.

Harry turned to face her fully, his expression one of raw, unbridled lust. The potion had ignited his desire to a fever pitch, but the full moon always did have an effect to elevate all emotions. "I can smell your arousal, feel the heat coming off your skin." He stepped closer, backing her up until her back hit a broad tree trunk. His hands found her hips, gripping them over the soft velvet as he pressed his body flush against hers. "I'm going to worship every inch of you tonight, little goddess."

Y/N's breath hitched as her back met the tree, her head tilting back to look up at him. Her body hummed with anticipation, the potion's effects already coursing through her too. Her own desire was amplified, her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath was coming in quick, shallow pants, breasts heaving against his chest. A soft moan escaped her as she squirmed against him, her hands reaching up to grip his broad shoulders.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails scraping against the skin as she held on for dear life as his pillowy lips pressed sloppy kisses down the expanse of her throat. The simplest action made her stomach churn in the best way, eyes fluttering shut as the tiniest wet drag of his tongue under her jaw had her keening. With a sigh, her head fell back against the tree trunk, the rough bark pressing into her scalp as she arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. a started squeak left her as he lifted her with no warning, but held no hesitation with legs wrapping around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back as she tried to pull him even closer. Her mouth hung open, soft gasps and moans escaping in between desperate little pants.

Harry groaned against her throat, the vibrations rumbling through her as he licked a hot stripe up to her ear. "You taste divine. So fucking good." he growled, nipping at the lobe. His hands slid down to grip her thighs, squeezing the supple flesh as he ground his hips against hers. The heat of his arousal pressed insistently against her core, even through the fabric of his trousers. "It’s time to get this robe off. I want to see this beautiful skin in the moonlight, just for myself.”

With a flick of his wrist, the sash of her robe loosened, the fabric gaping open to reveal the curve of her breasts. A guttural groan left him as he pushed the garment off her shoulders, the material pooling at her waist where her legs were wrapped around him. His head ducked down, his mouth finding her breast, drawing her peaked bud between his lips. He sucked hard, pulling a cry from her.

The potion was a heating crescendo in his veins, every beat of his heart a pounding drum as it coursed through him. Every touch, every scent, every sound was magnified tenfold. The feel of her thighs wrapped around him was an exquisite torture, his body burning to be inside her. His skin was flushed, his breaths coming in deep, heavy inhalations as he tried to draw in more of her breast into his mouth.

His hands trembled as they roamed over her body, fingers digging into her possessively. The potency of the potion had his control slipping, his actions becoming more urgent, more demanding. Hips bucked against her, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her core through his trousers. He growled against her skin, the sound primal as he fought to maintain his composure. "You're drivin’ me mad.” The husky groan was deep in his throat as fingertips ran up her thigh. Any chill from the night was forgotten as the magic in their veins warmed their blood, the sole focus being on exactly what was poured into the mixture- pleasure.

He took his time with her, his movements languid and deliberate. His hands caressed her skin like she was a precious artifact, thumbs brushing over her ribs before sliding up to cup her breasts. His mouth followed suit, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against her flesh, tongue lapping at her like she was the finest fruit he could have picked off the trees in her carefully cultivated yard.

Plucking her from the tree, he gently set her down in the plush grass bed he had conjured so he could worship her slowly, starting at her ankles. He kissed each one, then ran his fingers along her calves, behind her knees, up her thighs. He nuzzled the soft flesh of her belly, his hands skimming her hips and waist. He pressed his face between her breasts, inhaling deeply before placing a kiss to each one. “I’ve been waiting all month for this.” He admitted shamelessly, licking between her tits up towards her neck. The shiver ran through her body as he suckled on the skin at the center of her throat, making her breath hitch. “I think it’s time.”

Y/N felt like she was on fire, every nerve ending lit as his tongue ran over her skin. Her skin tingled every place he touched her, and even where he hadn't, as if his presence alone was enough to set her aflame. Her heart raced in her chest, fluttering like a bird in a cage as his hands and mouth roamed over her body. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs, her core throbbing with a need that was almost painful. “Harry.” She breathed, fingers finding his hair. “You know better than to tease me this much when we’ve taken a vial…”

His chuckle against her neck was warm and low, the vibrations making her squirm. "I know, little goddess." He murmured, voice sultry. Green eyes darkened as he gazed at her. "But I wanted to savor you." To emphasize his point, he took his time again, trailing kisses down her collarbone, between her breasts, down her soft belly until he was kneeling between her thighs. “Is that so wrong?”

His fingers gently parted her, gaze fixed on her face as he slowly leaned down to taste her. She gasped, back arching as his hot mouth closed over her. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping them spread wide as he devoured her like a man starved. The magic had taken full effect, the only thing on their minds being what could get them closer, what could concoct the most pleasure. He was hungry for it, for her as he spread her open for him, letting the moonlight shadow his features as he looked up at her. The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, and she fisted her hands in his hair, hips bucking against his face. "Harry, do not tease me..." She growled. “You know what I like.”

“Shush, Goddess. I take care of you each time. I don’t want to hear your tongue unless it’s moaning or singing my name.” Dark eyes shot her a look of promise. Harry would take care of her. He always did.

His tongue delved deeper, flicking against her clit as he sucked gently. Adding a finger, he curled it to rub against that special spot inside her as he continued to lap at her pussy. The whine that left her throat was a reward, a pulse in his trousers as he stroked over it. The other hand came up to pinch her nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he worked her open with his mouth. The sound of his eating, the wet slurping noises, filled the night air as he feasted on her.

Her head fell back, a guttural moan escaping her lips as his fingers and tongue worked in tandem to drive her wild. Her hips undulated against his face, seeking more of that delicious friction. One hand fisted in his hair, holding him against her as if afraid he'd stop. The other tangled her fingers in the weaved grass, knuckles pale with how hard she was gripping. "Yes, right there..." She whimpered, thighs trembling around his head. “Your tongue is so good, your fingers- keep fucking me like that, Harry.”

He growled against her, the vibrations making her see stars along with the bright moon in the sky above her as he doubled his efforts. Two fingers pumped in and out of her slick hole, curling to hit that spot inside her. His tongue flicked rapidly over her clit, alternating between broad licks and soft suckling. The hand on her breast slid up to wrap around her throat, squeezing lightly. It was just enough pressure to make her feel owned, possessed by the man between her legs.

He pulled back, staring at her. His green eyes glinted hungrily in the dim moonlight, the mix of spit and her glistening on his chin. “I forgot about how much of a mess you make, little Goddess. I think we should add some more, no?” Harry rasped, pursing his lips to spit right over her cunt. The glob of saliva hit her swollen folds and slid downwards, causing her to shiver as she keened, the hand in his head pushing him towards her again. Leaning back down, his tongue lapped at her, spreading the mess as his digits pumped in and out.

His fingers crooked just right inside her, stroking along that sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue focused on her clit. He could feel her tightening around his digits, her thighs quivering on either side of his head. "Cum for me, my goddess," Harry growled against her flesh, the vibrations pushing her closer to the edge. "Let me feel this sweet cunt spasm on my tongue so I can fuck you. The moon is so bright, I want you to look right at it as you cum for me.”

The words were her undoing. With a moan that echoed through the night, Y/N's back arched off the ground. Her inner walls clamped down on Harry's fingers, pulsing and squeezing as her orgasm ripped through her. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, her vision whiting out as she stared up at the moon. Harry swallowed her cries, his face buried in her cunt as he lapped up her cream.

The potion amplified her orgasm, making it feel like a tidal wave of warmth crashing over her. Each pulse of her pussy around Harry's fingers sent shockwaves through her entire body, making her toes curl and her back arch even further. The magic in the vial seemed to reach inside her and squeezed her for every drop of pleasure. It felt like her entire world had narrowed down to that one spot, her clit and Harry's fingers the only things that existed.

As her body finally stilled and her breathing attempted returning to normal, Harry slowly pulled his fingers out of her. He licked them clean, a smug smile on his face as he watched her sprawled out on the ground, boneless and sated. He stood up, his movements deliberate as he undid his belt and trousers, shoving them down to pool around his ankles. Her pleasure had always been his driving force, but making her orgasm like that was exactly the thing he needed. His cock had something to show for it, hard and ready, as he stepped out of his clothes.

Y/N sat up, recovering quickly from her intense orgasm- all thanks to the damn potion. It would need to be recreated exactly when she got back to her cottage, saved for occasions like this.

Thank the moon for magic.

She looked at Harry, a sly smile on her face as she reached out to tug him down to the grassy bed beside her. He landed with a soft thud, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. "My turn." The witch purred, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his thick shaft and guiding it towards her pussy.

Harry let out a low groan as Y/N's hand squeezed around him, her fingers not quite meeting as she stroked him from root to tip. She positioned him at her entrance, her heat caressing the head of him as she slowly sank down, taking him deep inside her. His head fell back against the grass, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He could feel every inch of her as she took him in, her tight heat enveloping him.

The magic coursing through her made every sensation feel magnified and intense, and that was saying something considering sex with Harry without any influence was the best she had. The drag of Harry's prick against her sensitive walls was almost too much to bear. She could feel every ridge and vein, every twitch of him inside her. Her nerve endings were on fire, pleasure sparking through her with each movement. She threw her head back with a moan, her hips starting to roll, riding him with increasing fervor as the magic demanded more.

Watching her ride him, Harry couldn't keep the groan from leaving the back of his throat. Nothing in his life had been more beautiful, more sensual than the witch riding his cock, bathed in moonlight. She was gleaming, nearly glittering as her lust blown eyes peered down at him, nails digging into the inked chest with each roll of her hips. "By the moon, you're fucking beautiful," he rasped, his hands gripping her hips as she set the pace. "Look at you taking me so well, little goddess. You feel amazing." He murmured, his hips lifting to meet hers, driving himself deeper. "I could spend eternity inside you and it still wouldn't be enough. Perfect cunt swallowing me up, hot and precious. I wasn’t going to let you share it with anyone else tonight."

"You're mine," he hissed through gritted teeth as she swiveled her hips, grinding down on him. "No other man gets to feel this. Only me. Say it." His hands squeezed her backside, encouraging her to ride him harder as his own hips thrust up in a matching rhythm. "Say you're only mine, Y/N. Tell me this is just for me."

Their secret little rendezvous had been the best thing to happen to him. Everything he needed, really. Potion or not, his pull towards her was guided and stronger each cycle of the moon and he knew it meant she was his, somehow- some way. They kept it quiet though it was an open secret, but he didn’t want it to be any longer. He wanted the woman to be his.

"I'm yours, Harry. Only yours," Y/N gasped out, her nails raking down his chest as she rode him hard and fast. The magic made her words come true, like a vow sealed in starlight and shadow. "No one else could ever make me feel like this. You're the only one who knows how to touch me, how to make me come undone." Breaths came out in pants as she fucked herself on him, the vibration in her blood making her more desperate for it. She wanted him, wanted him to want her.

Harry's eyes gleamed with triumph and possessiveness as she declared herself his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down onto his chest as he took over the pace, thrusting up into her with deep, powerful strokes. The magic surged, amplifying every movement until it felt like he was fucking her soul, touching bits he had never even dreamt of before. "Swear by the moon. Tell her that you're mine." He growled, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "My little witch, my perfect little goddess- Swear yourself to me, tell the Moon that you’ve chosen your soul bond. I can not pretend the secret meetings are enough. This is all I crave, day in and day out." He pulled his face up to hers, meeting her eyes. “Proclaim it.”

"I... I choose you, Harry," Y/N stammered out, her voice hitching as he drove up into her, the hard ridges of his abs rubbing against her sensitive clit. "By the moon, I choose you. No other... only you. You're my soul bond, my moon and stars. I swear it." The magic thrummed through her veins, sealing her oath.

It all made sense now.

Harry's eyes flashed with dark fire as she swore herself to him. He crushed his mouth to hers, his kiss searing and dominating. His hands gripped her ass tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he powered into her, his pace growing harder, faster. He growled against her mouth, "Yes... My little goddess. Say it again. Tell me you're mine." The magic pulsed around them, mirroring the rhythm of their bodies.

"I'm yours, Harry," Y/N whimpered out between kisses, her voice breaking as the pleasure consumed her. "I'm yours, forever and always. Only yours." Her body began to shake, her orgasm building to a crescendo as he pounded into her. The moon hung low in the sky, watching over them as they made their sacred vow. Harry's thrusts became erratic, his own release looming as he heard her declare herself his.

"And I am yours, by the light of the moon," Harry declared, his voice flowing out into the night. "Y/N, my witch, my goddess, you are mine and I am yours, now and forever. By the power of the celestial bodies….” He panted, looking up at her with hooded eyes. “By the magic that binds us, I proclaim myself your soul bond, your half, your everything." It was too much. Feeling the beginnings of her orgasm, feeling the soul bond snap into place, finally getting the confirmation that she was his as much as he was hers, it was overwhelming. His body felt every bit of it, pleasure thrumming through him as he broke. Thrusting up into her one last time, he held himself deep as his orgasm ripped through him.

Harry's declaration pushed Y/N over the edge. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back as she cried out his name as the feeling overtook her. Her cunt tightened around him, milking him for all he was worth as her body trembled with pleasure that was unheard of for her, even with the vials. This was something new, something raw and real and she hadn’t even anticipated it feeling this good. But perhaps it wasn’t just the potion, but the man she was with instead. Stars burst behind her eyes, and she could've sworn she heard the moon sing approval as their bond snapped into place, sealing them together.

Harry's arms pulled her down her as she convulsed on top of him, his own body shuddering with aftershocks, holding her to his body to soothe her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hot breath tickling her skin. "My Y/N." He murmured softly, his voice laced with a newfound sense of possession and an underpainting of love. "My moonlit obsession, my forever girl." He kissed her neck gently, his hands stroking her back soothingly.

His gentle touches and murmured words slowly brought Y/N back down to earth, catching her soul before it went too far up to the stars. She sagged against him, her body heavy and sated, her limbs like jelly. He supported her weight effortlessly, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her. "Shh, it's alright, little goddess," he whispered, his voice a hushed rumble against her ear. "I've got you. You're safe.”

Y/N's body continued to tremble slightly in the aftermath, her heart racing. She clutched at Harry, her fingers digging into his shoulders as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly become liquid and shimmering around her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, not from sadness but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of what she had just experienced.

Harry noticed her trembling and gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs, his touch infinitely tender. He began to press soft kisses all over her face - her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin, her tear-stained cheeks again. Each kiss was a silent promise, a whispered I love you against her skin. He murmured soothingly, "That's it, my love. Calm. You're alright. I've got you."

Y/N's bleary, tear-streaked smile was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. It was a smile of pure trust, of complete surrender, of utter contentment. They’d been playing cat and mouse for far too long. This had always been their fate. She looked up at him with eyes that shone like the moon herself, her gaze filled with adoration as she looked down at him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him close as if she never wanted to let go, sagging into him as she trailed chaste kisses over his sweat damp neck.

Harry nuzzled into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as she marked him with her gentle pecks. He turned his head, pulling hers up to capture her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a far cry from the dominant, claiming kiss they had shared earlier. This was a promise, a declaration of love in its purest form. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers as he looked deep into her eyes. "We're bonded.”

Y/N's eyes widened at his words, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks, but this time they were tears of joy. She nodded, a shaky smile spreading across her face. "I felt it." she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "It was like... like a piece of my soul clicking into place with yours." She placed a hand over his heart, feeling it beat in sync with her own.

For so long, they had danced around their feelings, afraid to voice them aloud, afraid to ruin the delicate balance of their dynamic. But the magic sent by the moon was meant to bring them together, to force them to confront the truth. And as they sat there, hearts pounding in sync, they both knew that there was no going back. They were meant to be, and the moon had spoken.

"No more dancing around, yeah?" Harry said softly, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "No more tiptoeing, no more 'what ifs' and 'maybes'." He leaned in, kissing her deeply, pouring all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. When he pulled back, Y/N was breathless, her eyes dazed. "And I think it goes without saying… M’the only one you’ll be testing these potions with from now on.”

[prythianpages]

I Put A Spell On You | Acotar x Witch Reader

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[season of the witch masterlist]

summary: You, a witch, perform a ritual over your mate.

warnings: witchy rituals, Az being smitten with Green Witch, suggestiveness for Cas's bc he's horny for Love Witch, and a bit of Eris being soft for his Chaos witch.

a/n: Happy Summerween! This is inspired by the meme "hot witch wife and me doing whatever the hell she wants" that came from the gif above. Only Azriel, Cassian and Eris are included in this. Idek if these count as drabbles since each one is roughly a little longer than 1K but oh well lol.

moon divider by @tsunami-of-tears <3

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Azriel x Green Witch

Candles were lit and placed carefully around the room, casting a warm glow that danced with your every movement. You knelt in the center, drawing a chalk circle with meticulous care. Your eyebrows knitted together, focus unwavering.

A sight that had Azriel’s gaze softening as he watched you from where he stood. His shadows flitted around him, singing in content. Precious, they whispered. Yours. The corner of his lips tugged up into a faint smile. Ours. His shadows were just as smitten with you as him.

"Azriel," you called softly as you shifted into a kneeling position.

He stepped forward, shadows shuddering under the force of your magic as he crossed the chalk circle. Kneeling before you, his gaze flickered to the tray between you, filled with an assortment of herbs, shimmering crystals, and freshly cut dandelions. Through the bond, he could feel your anticipation and nervousness humming like a vibrant current. He sent a soothing wave of calm your way, reveling in the way your muscles seemed to relax.

Lighting the candle on the tray with your magic, you finally look up and meet Azriel’s gaze. A faint blush colors your cheeks at what you find in those hazel eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?" 

“Because you’ve bewitched me.”

You lifted a brow. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh, but you have.” He grinned, hazel eyes sparkling. “Just being you is enough.”

“Don’t distract me,” you admonished, though your voice lacked firmness, and the blush on your face deepened. “I could be casting a hex on you for all you know… what if I were cursing you into a toad?”

“I’d croak only for you.”

“And if I jinxed you with a body-bind curse that would immobilize you?”

Azriel tilted his head, his eyes boring into yours with a challenge. “So that I’d never leave your side…Are you sure that’s a curse?”

You stared back at Azriel, eyes narrowing in skepticism. But he doesn’t waver. You’re certain he doesn’t even blink, and the sincerity radiating from him sends a wave of warmth through your heart. He’d let you do anything to him.

“You’re insufferable,” you finally replied, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“And you’re adorable,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending delightful shivers down your spine. 

Before his hand could fall back to his side, you reached out for it and laced your fingers through his, smile widening when one of his shadows wedges itself through the cracks.  “Will you let me focus now?”

Azriel gives your hand a squeeze, silently commanding the shadow between your fingers to return to him. With a wave of your other hand, your spellbook came flying to you from your desk in the corner. In a whirl of green, the pages began to turn, your eyes darkening as they searched for the spell in mind.

“What is this spell for anyway?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, realizing he had no clue as to what this ritual of yours entailed. When he told you he was going on a long mission–a full week–and you had asked if you could try something, he had simply said yes.

Darkness fully consumed your eyes, the turning pages coming to a stop. He doesn’t flinch when your dark eyes look up to his. To him, they were just another beautiful part of you that he loved.  “It’s a small binding spell for protection. It’s like a stepping stone for the spell I want to cast after our mating ceremony.”

“And no, I won’t tell you what that one is because it’s a surprise.” You added after sensing the next question ready to roll off Azriel’s tongue.

Azriel let out a small huff. He doesn’t like surprises but you’re stubborn and unwavering. At the slight pout of his face, you bring his hand to your mouth and brushed your lips against his fingers. The subtle twitch of his right wing betrayed him, making you smile. 

“Now, sit back on your heels and relax.” You instructed, taking his other hand in yours so both hands held his.

Azriel’s wings curled in slightly, the dark talons lightly grazing the floor. His shadows quieted, resting against his neck and lap. You gave both of his hands a squeeze before you began to murmur a chant, your voice soothing and melodic. The flames surrounding you both danced higher, responding to your magic.

Your magic enveloped you both, swirling along the line of your circle and casting a shimmering green glow upon the room. The magic from Azriel’s cobalt blue siphons sang in response, fluttering toward your emerald light and intertwining with it, just like your fingers are with his.

The combined force of your magic sent a cool gust of air your way, making your hair sway gently. The dandelions between you both seemed to awaken with a life of their own, the pappus carrying their seeds stirring. A tender flutter of warmth rose from Azriel’s stomach as the dandelions began to rise, his mind flashing back to that day in the field of dandelions when your laughter had filled the air.

The feathery plumes floated in the air between you both, carrying promises in the wind of your magic.They wrapped around your intertwined hands, morphing into a golden thread in a burst of bright light. Azriel eyes filled with a mix of admiration and something deeper that made your heart race. It prompted you to close your eyes, not wanting to be distracted as you whispered the last words of the spell.

When you finished, the room fell into a calm silence. You opened your eyes, and Azriel watched as the darkness lifted from them, smiling as you were brought back to him.

Azriel rises first so that he can guide you to your feet. His hands don’t let go of yours. Though it’s time for him to leave for his mission, his shoulders feel light. As if a huge weight has been lifted off and he feels something he’s never felt before–an overwhelming sense of safety. Even his shadows seemed to give a sigh of relief.

Resting his forehead against yours, he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut briefly. “I’ll come home to you as soon as I can. Crawl if I have to.”

“You won’t have to,” you promised, looking up at him. “You’ll come home to me unscathed and we’ll have our mating ceremony. Then, I’ll show you my surprise.”

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, the promise of your future together shimmering like the magic lingering in the air.

Cassian x Love Witch

Cassian’s head tilted back in pleasure, his large hands falling to your hips. Your lips found purchase against the newly exposed skin of his neck, slowly working your way up. He let out a deep groan when you grinded down against him, his hands kneading into you to press you further onto his growing bulge.

“Sweetheart–”

“Can I–” 

“Yes.”

You let out a breathless giggle, pulling back to look down at your mate, your heart shaped pupils making an appearance. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Well, let’s fix that?” He smirked at you, his hand sliding up your shirt.

“I want to try something.”

“Anything,” Cassian replied, eyes hooded with lust, before chasing after your lips.

You placed a finger against his lips, stopping them from meeting yours and when your lips curved into a devious grin, Cassian realized you were not talking about sex.

“I want to cast a spell on you, perform a ritual.”

His throat bobbed. “A ritual?”

“Mmm,” you replied, shifting in his lap as you cradled his face into your hands. “One I can only perform when the recipient is in love with me. It makes my love potions more potent. I’ve never tried it before but I’d like to. It’ll be fun…”

Cassian searched your face, eyes narrowing at you. “Fun in what sense?”

“Fun in the sense that it’ll make you feel real, real good,” you replied, hands falling to his chest slowly snaking their way upwards to run down his back and teasing at the area where his wings meet his skin. His wings shuddered, his arousal filling the air.

“Only if I get to make you feel real, real good after.” His hands guided you to circle your hips over his lap again, eliciting a soft moan out of you as you felt his desire for you.

“Deal.”

**

Cassian watched as you moved about your spell room with a grace and purpose that made his heart swell with pride. Since you had become a couple, your magic had been steadily returning to its former strength. It seemed that all you needed was to believe in yourself for your magic to flourish again.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d work your magic on him but it was the first time you’d perform a ritual on him. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation as he laid down in the center of the circle you had drawn. His wings, arms and legs were splayed out in a relaxed yet expectant manner.

You sprinkled salt around the circle, its crystals catching the fae lights hanging above and adding a shimmering boundary. Then, with a dash of cinnamon, Cassian’s nose wrinkled, the warm, spicy scent teasing his senses. As you scattered rose petals along the floor, Cassian’s eyes followed you, tracking your every movement. 

“How does this work again?” 

You made your way towards Cassian, your feet stopping right at his head as you peered down at him. “It’s simple. You think about me and only me—”

“Easy.” He smirked up at you.

With a playful wink, you threw a handful of rose petals at him.  “—while I chant a spell. Your feelings will manifest into a tangible energy that I can then work with and stir into my potion.” You explained as you added drops of honey and more cinnamon to the brewing potion in the cauldron at the edge of the circle, the mixture bubbling softly.

“But what if I accidentally think of other things?” Cassian couldn’t help but ask. 

His thoughts did tend to drift away often, usually to not so innocent thoughts of you. However, there were the occasional random ones such as what he’d be having for dinner, the  result of the loud instrument he had gifted Nyx on his birthday or what would make Azriel tick next.

“Then, the cauldron will tip over angrily over your defiance to love me.”

He lifted his head slightly from the ground, relief bringing it back down when he saw you were joking.

“Just don’t think of anything negative. Otherwise, you’ll mess with the spell.” You reassured.

“Okay, got it! I can definitely do that. Think positive thoughts.” His eyebrows knitted together in concentration but then another thought came to mind and once again, he was lifting his head from the ground.

 "And why am I shirtless?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Oh that," you grinned back at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.  "That's for my own entertainment."

You began the ritual by lighting candles placed at each cardinal point of the circle. You then took a small, ornate vial from a nearby table, filled with a shimmering liquid—the essence of moonlight collected during the last full moon. You carefully poured a few drops into the cauldron, causing the potion to glow.

As you started chanting the spell, the energy in the room seemed to shift and intensify. Cassian closed his eyes, focusing on his love for you, letting the emotion swell within him. You placed your hands gently on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. 

“Stay still.”

“Your hands are cold and it tickles.” Cassian breathed but did his best to not move.

The air around you crackled with energy like a steady, burning hearth. The pink thread of magic began to weave itself around Cassian, glowing brighter with each passing moment. The connection between you two was palpable, a current of love and magic flowing freely. You could feel his love transforming into a tangible force, ready to be harnessed for your potion.

As the final words of the spell left your lips, you gathered the energy with a sweeping motion of your hand, guiding it into the cauldron. The potion bubbled vigorously for a moment before settling into a golden liquid, infused with the power of your love and Cassian’s devotion.

You looked down at Cassian, who opened his eyes and met your gaze. “There,” you said softly, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Cassian replied, his entire body humming with a pleasant warmth. He felt good, real good. Just as you had said. He reached up and gently pulled you down for a kiss, his lips warm and soft against yours. “You’re amazing.”

Then, he flipped you over, positioning you on the ground beneath him as he hovered above you. His gaze darkened, love and lust simmering in those hazel eyes. “Now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Lost in the promise of pleasure, you failed to close the ritual and your brewing love potion bubbled, turning into something more sensual…

Eris x Chaos Witch

Eris entered the dimly lit chamber, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the sudden chill in the air. The sensation, once unsettling, now was a welcomed embrace, a whisper of the magic that thrived in these walls. He closed the door behind him.

It was only then that he allowed his shoulders to sag, burdened by the heavy yet long desired mantle of his new responsibilities as the High Lord of Autumn. As he begins to unbutton his coat, the soft hum of a melody reached his ears, a soothing sound that seemed to dance with the flickering shadows. Drawn towards the source, Eris walked into the bathroom, where the air was thick with the scent of enchanted herbs and essential oils.

In the center of the room, a large, claw-footed bathtub awaited, filled with steaming water. Floating atop were petals of autumn blooms, interspersed with sprigs of calming lavender and rosemary. You stood beside the tub, your back turned towards him, but he could feel your awareness of his presence through the bond that tightened in his chest.

Eris leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to fully appreciate the scene before him. The tightening in his chest blossomed into a pool of warmth, the sight of you bringing him a sense of peace that always left him wondering if this was all a dream. Another tug through the bond reminds him that it’s not. 

You wore a flowing gown of deep burgundy, reminiscent of the Autumn Court’s forests, and your hair cascaded around your shoulders. The humming ceased, and with a smile in your voice, you finally greeted him.

“My High Lord.”

A faint smirk tugged at Eris’s lips as he crossed his arms. "What is all of this?"

You turned around to face him, your eyes glowing a vivid crimson as the room darkened around you. "A little treat for you."

Eris raised an eyebrow, his own magic flickering the candles surrounding the bathtub to life. "A treat? For me?"

"Mmm. That’s what I said.”

Your eyes softened back to their natural hue. “Your energy has been all over the place these past couple of weeks. I thought a ritual might help ease your burden." You gestured to the enticing bath. "To relax you a little."

Eris blinked, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. His eyes roamed over the various jars and elixirs lining one of the counters, each one glimmering with an otherworldly light. His gaze returned to you as you moved towards the array. You paused, studying the selection with a discerning eye before picking up a dark vial, its contents swirling with a strange mist.

You approached the bathtub with the chosen elixir, the air tingling with anticipation. You uncorked the bottle, releasing the trapped mist with a soft pop. You brought the open bottle to your nose, inhaling deeply and closing your eyes as if savoring a fine wine. “Frog’s breath,” you said, the corners of your lips twitching at the slight grimace on Eris’s face. “It’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s the toad’s breath you have to watch out for.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go sniffing the wrong amphibian,” Eris replied, his tone laced with dry sarcasm.

You shot him a wry look before turning your attention back to the bath. With a flick of your wrist, you directed the mist towards the water, where it hovered above the surface like storm clouds, emitting a soft hiss as it settled.

Then, you reached into your dress, pulling out a long, vibrant feather from your chest, its colors shimmering in shades of reds, oranges, and gold. Your eyes glowed with a radiant red light as you admired the feather. “A phoenix feather. It brings forth rebirth and renewal—a rejuvenating energy, perfect for new beginnings.”

You beckoned Eris closer, and he complied, his amber eyes alight with curiosity and intrigue. He stood beside you, watching intently as you cast the feather into the bathtub as if it were your cauldron. There was a sudden flash of light, and the water began to glow with a faint golden hue.

“Looks like you’re preparing to make a stew out of me.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze, finding him already watching you. Your smile widened into a mischievous grin. “Oh, how you wound me, my love. I thought we were well past the murderous stage.”

Eris chuckled, reminiscing about the tumultuous beginnings of your relationship. How far the two of you had come since those early days. He never would have imagined that the witch with a love for chaos could capture his heart so completely. As you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge, he turned to face you.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

Eris gave you a nod, not trusting himself to speak. His throat felt tight with emotion.

You began to undo the remaining buttons on his coat, your fingers moving with a practiced grace. The fabric soon slid down his shoulders and fell to the floor. You continued with his vest and then, you reached his shirt, your nimble fingers brushing against his chest. 

As the garment fell away, you took a moment to appreciate the sight before you. Your hands traced the planes of his muscles, the touch light and reverent, invoking a delightful shudder that ran through him like a current. Your eyes find his as your hands begin to trail lower, teasing at the waistband of his pants.

Eris’s gaze is intense, bringing your movements to a stop. He finishes undressing himself, knowing that if he allowed you, there was no way he’d have the strength to indulge in the bath before indulging in you.

His hands found purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a tender caress. “What next?” He breathes, his nose brushing against yours.

“Do you trust me?” You whisper and though he can only muster another nod, he sends his reassurance through the bond. “Then, get in.”

You extend your hand to him, and he takes it without hesitation, allowing you to guide him into the bath. Even as he settles into the tub, his back resting against the cool porcelain, his hand never leaves yours. The hot water envelops him, immediately easing the tension in his muscles, and he lets out a contented groan.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he brushes a kiss against your knuckles, his amber eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs.

“Guess we’ll never find out. You’re stuck with me now.” You reply, tugging at the golden threads that tether your souls together.

"A devastating tragedy," Eris feigns lament.

"A true catastrophe," you echo, matching his tone.

The two of you share a smile, the look in your eyes contrasting the words exchanged. Your hands move gently to remove the autumn diadem from his head, a symbol of his new rank and the burdens he bears. You place the diadem safely onto the counter and then, you’re returning to his side.  

You sit on the stool beside the bathtub, your fingers threading through his hair with a soothing touch. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies and though it’s not the first time you performed a ritual over him, it’s your first time performing one as his mate and for pleasure. His heart flutters in anticipation.

Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Just sit back and relax.”

His breath hitched as he felt the coolness of your magic radiate from your fingertips and seep into his scalp. You began to hum an ancient tune. The chill of your magic transformed into a soothing, calming caress, gently breaking down the shields of his mind. He closed his eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over him—the warmth of the water, the scent of enchanted herbs, the soft glow of candles.

Eris, who had always been the one to shoulder burdens and stand strong, felt an unfamiliar sensation—a deep, unspoken care enveloping him. It relaxed him, allowing him to be vulnerable in a way he rarely permitted. And in the quiet embrace of the night, he realized how fortunate he was to have someone like you in his life.

Someone who understood the storms within him and embraced them, bringing harmony to his tumultuous world.

a/n: hope you enjoyed these! Eris's turned out a lot softer than I first imagined. I do intend to post more witchy HCs/drabbles but at the moment, I don't have an idea for one. But if you do, feel free to send it my way!

[witch au masterlist]

general witch tag list: @rcarbo1, @scorpioriesling, @ninthcircleofprythian

love witch tag list: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

green witch tag list: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[auroralwriting]

coffee

spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer always feels better when you make him coffee to cheer him up. auroral writing's fallidays masterlist

word count: 1k

warnings: season 2 spencer, no use of y/n, show-accurate spencer aka he’s a little, sweet nerd, comfort but no angst

Sometimes, having your boyfriend at home was worse than missing him while he was on a case. Spencer would be exhausted from time to time, varying on the case they worked on. It wasn’t easy to see your love so beat down so often. He promised it was just jet lag, but deep down, you knew some of the cases bothered him, too.

Late last night, Spencer arrived back home. Whenever he was gone, you’d stay at his apartment to water his plants and make sure the place was top notch by the time he came home. He had slipped into bed with you while you slept, not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you woke up, your heart fluttered seeing your genius lying next to you. The dark circles around his eyes were more prominent than they usually were. He didn’t even change out of his clothes.

It was clear that his thoughts were heavy, even deep in sleep. You wondered how bad this case was. What always cheered Spencer up was a nice, warm cup of coffee in the morning. So, you decided that's what you'd do; make him a nice, warm cup to make him feel better.

You got up slowly, making sure to take soft steps in order to not wake Spencer up. You opened his dresser drawers and laid him out a tee shirt and some plaid pajama pants so he could get comfortable when he woke up.

Once that was done, you went into his kitchen and turned on his record player, some soft classical music filling the empty room. The tunes help occupy the space as you worked on breakfast.

The coffee pot beeped off when you heard soft creaks from Spencer’s bedroom.

You grabbed his mug, one catered to the way he made his coffee, and carefully walked into the bedroom once more. Spencer’s eyes softened when he looked at you. He rubbed his eyes, giving his iconic soft, goofy smile.

“G’morning, love.” Spencer muttered, softly stretching as he sat up.

Cheeks tinted with red, you sat on the side of the bed with the mug in hand. “Morning, Spence. I made you some coffee, fresh out of the pot.”

Spencer took a sip, a low hum coming from his throat. “Perfect,” he mused.

“Long case?” You asked, brushing a piece of his hair back from his forehead.

“Very much so,” Spencer nodded. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “Statistically, ninth percent of victims gone within the first day or two are found safely. Ours had been gone a full week.”

Your heart lurched in your chest, you knew what he meant. “You all tried your best, honey.” You tried to comfort. “Did you catch him?”

“Yeah,” Spencer nodded, a sigh of relief following his next sip of coffee. “This is really good.”

“I made it just the same,” you chuckled.

Spencer gave a small shrug with a hint of a smile on hips lips. “It tasted better when I know it’s to make me feel better.”

“If it helps, I also made blueberry pancakes.” Spencer’s smile grew at your words. “Now, get comfy and come have breakfast with me. I’m starving.”

After a few minutes, Spencer walked out of the room. “You put on Beethoven,” he smiled. You knew that was his favorite composer. Spencer sat down, eagerly taking a bite of the food you prepared for him. “Baby, it’s so good,”

You smiled at his compliment, “I’m glad, Spence.”

“Let me make dinner tonight as a thank you,” Spencer said, swallowing the food in his mouth. “Please?”

No matter how many times you did nice things for him, Spencer always wanted to repay you. That’s one of the many reasons you loved him so much. He was always fair, kind, and truly the most loving man you’d ever met in your life. Your relationship was built off of love, trust, and balance. It was perfection.

“How could I ever say no to that face?” You giggled at the dopey smile he wore.

"How about more breakfast for dinner," Spencer offered, taking a sip from his mug. "I can make us cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate, and maybe today we can go out and get an apple pie, too."

Your face lit up at the thought, "You really do love me, don't you?"

Spencer laughed, "With every bone in my body."

"That coffee really helped your mood, huh?" You put your head on your hand as you stared lovingly at your boyfriend. What a perfect man he was.

"It did," Spencer admitted, "but the fact that you made it and did all of this for me is what really helped."

Once you were both finished eating, you and Spencer snuggled on the couch, a large blanket laying over top of both of your laps. You were both cuddled in the middle, laughing at the tv as you watched Halloweentown. It was the perfect fall day outside, and you both were on your second mugs of coffee.

"Don't we still need to go to the store?" Spencer asked as he played with a strand of your hair.

You softly hummed in reply, "It's noon, we still have time."

"Well, there's still several more Halloweentown movies to watch," Spencer replied with a smile. "At this rate, we'll never go to the store."

"A late midnight snack, then." You decided. "This is too nice to just give up."

Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I agree. I could go for a big midnight snack."

Even when you went to go to the store, more around seven, you stopped off at the local coffee place to grab a cup from them. They were just about to close, but it was worth it to see the look on Spencer's face.

The last cup of coffee was served at just a little past midnight as the two of you sat on the couch, criss crossed, eating cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Your mugs were still smoking from the heat of the coffee.

Spencer gently grabbed your chin, giving you a warm kiss. You tasted the icing on his lips from the cinnamon rolls.

"Thank you," Spencer said softly. "For today and the coffee."

"I'd do anything for you, Spencer." You replied with a small smile settling on your lips.

[daycourtofficial]

Deceptive Domestication

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny

Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?

Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit

“Angel, where are you?”

Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”

Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”

You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 

“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.

“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”

You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”

“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”

You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.

Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.

You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.

Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.

There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.

So he decided on you and Azriel.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.

Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.

Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.

All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.

You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.

It was all pissing you off.

The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.

Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.

That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”

Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.

Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”

All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.

Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 

You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.

You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.

You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.

You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”

Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.

“I need your help with something.”

It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.

-

You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.

If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.

Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.

You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.

You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 

You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 

Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.

Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.

Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?

You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.

You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.

An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.

Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”

Wish.

You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.

It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.

You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.

Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.

“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 

“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”

Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.

“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”

Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”

You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”

You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.

But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.

“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”

She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.

The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.

You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.

The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.

“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 

“He’s a fine male.”

Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”

“Chores.”

You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 

You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.

-

You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 

“Hello my loving husb-“

Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.

“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.

You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 

His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.

“What happened?”

He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”

You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 

Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 

“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”

His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.

“Because Rhys thinks-”

“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”

“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”

His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.

“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”

He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.

“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”

His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.

-

The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.

You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself

You still care, despite it all. 

Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 

“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”

You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.

“None compare to my family recipe.”

She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.

You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 

You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.

He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”

His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.

“Is everything alright?”

Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.

“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”

He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”

Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 

The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.

The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.

“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”

He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”

You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.

-

Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 

A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 

“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”

Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 

The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.

“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 

She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”

Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 

The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 

In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.

The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.

“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”

He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”

Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”

Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”

Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 

“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.

“Your husband seems quite nice.”

Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.

“Yes, he is very kind.”

“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”

This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-

“He’s very good-looking.”

Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 

You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.

You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.

“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”

“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”

“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”

“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.

“I’m well aware-”

“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”

Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”

He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.

“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”

“No.”

His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.

“Just tell me what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s clearly not the case.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.

“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”

“That’s not what happened-”

“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”

“I HAD TO.”

His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.

“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”

His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”

“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 

“That’s not-“

“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”

“Will you let me speak?”

His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”

“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”

You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Hey, there.”

You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 

“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”

You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 

“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”

You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 

“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”

You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.

-

Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 

Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.

“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”

Your body goes cold at the voice.

Dardan.

Fuck.

You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.

You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 

He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”

You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”

He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”

Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.

Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.

“It’s almost sunset, girl.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”

Rhys’s words echo in your mind.

Stay close to Azriel.

A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.

The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 

You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 

The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.

You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 

Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 

They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 

Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.

It was sickening.

Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 

“Any last words?”

You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”

Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 

Not a breeze.

A shadow.

“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”

Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 

You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.

Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 

“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”

In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.

In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.

Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.

He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 

“I can’t live in fear anymore.”

He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 

But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 

He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”

His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.

“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”

He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”

He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 

“No more running.”

The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.

Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.

He promised - no more running.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[glitteringobliteration]

i realize this is also just how he operates, but brennan’s comment at the top of the season about how he just keeps looking for ways to make fun stories for his friends really clicked this episode and it all came full circle in such a beautiful way. he kept his lips sealed for five! years! about a piece of lore JUST for the grand reveal during this episode. he loves them so much i-