#aster prattles

[praline-elegy]

Ok Praline - for the headcanon ask game - #17, for both Aster and Thomas Leventis

#17: Soft spot - I think that Aster and Thomas share a soft spot for each other. They have a bond that only twins would have—a person that they’d spent nine months together in the womb and has likely seen the other at their highest and lowest, and as such are deeply fond of one another.

Aster: I like to think that Aster also has a soft spot for his girlfriend (an oc that I created). I feel like that’s a cop-out answer though, so to add onto that, Aster has a fondness for small things that look like bigger objects and vice versa; like a lego bonsai tree, or a gigantic lawn chair that could fit a family of four. He finds it amusing.

Thomas: In my mind, Thomas has a soft spot for children/babies. I gave the Aster and Thomas a nephew (or first cousin once removed—cousin’s child to be accurate), and he’s a cute little baby (or toddler if speaking of my college au), and Thomas is completely wrapped around his finger. He loves how soft and small and absolutely precious his nephew is, his chubby baby fingers, his big curious eyes, and the sweet bubbly joy of his laughter. He’s already succumbed to baby fever 😆🧸✨

Last headcanon but I think that both Aster and Thomas have a soft spot for people with freckles… which both my oc and Scott have 🤭☀️

(Link to headcanon prompt meme here).

[lrcpwjno]

i kinda liked troue gbf but i couldn't quite justify using him on a cnidocyte team despite 5 hit skill nukes spam (sorry i like yuel more)

but his role in the latest event? love it. now i really love this dude. great character. got me right in the feels. how are we ever going to recover from this

[shadowsofthegun-if]

The Wild West. Daunting. Unforgiving. Untamed.

You know better than anyone the tragedies that have plagued these lands, the injustices that have been committed, and the lives that have been lost. You've seen it all. Seen good people fall victim to the ruthlessness and corruption, seen entire towns burn to the ground, and watched families be torn apart by violence and greed.

For as long as you can remember, you've been a renegade, living on the edge of society. You've never known stability or security, always moving from town to town never settling down. You've been forced to leave nothing but a trail of pain and destruction in your wake. Never been able to stop long enough to think about the consequences.

But is that all you are? Given the chance to change, would you take it? To give instead of take. To help instead of hurt. To build instead of destroy. Or do you want to continue down the same path? To forever be the child without a home, without purpose, without hope.

Will you make sure the West remains untamed or will you too look for a new beginning?

DEMO | Playlist | Pinterest

Customize who you are in the Wild West: appearance, sex, gender, and sexuality

Be an angry little gremlin who's trying to find the place they want in the world

Make life harder for your make shift family or just for yourself

Risk making friends and falling in love. Will you be able to let them go when it's time to run again?

Be an absolute disaster of an outlaw

Rated 18+ due to Child Abuse/Neglect, Death/Child Death, Gore/Violence, Drugs, Alcohol, Potential Sexual Content

'Blessing' Cain / The Renegade

That's you. The young outlaw causing havoc across the West alongside the infamous duo Jesse Alden and Harrison Boyd. I would say that this wasn't always your life but, that would be a lie. Your parents looked at the West and, like every other person, saw a new beginning. They, however, felt that the land out West wasn't for everyone, only for those chosen by the Lord himself. Out they went claiming their land and dealing with anyone who tried to stop them. They hurt people, a lot of people, but the one they hurt the most was you. When they felt it was time to return to the Lord they planned to take their entire family with them. You fought and managed to survive. Now it's up to you to decide if that fight was worth it.

Jesse Alden / The Older Brother

The reason you're here and alive. Jesse is about as close as you can get to an older brother without actually being blood-related. Since the moment he met you, he has always made taking care of you his top priority. Sure, he's annoying at times and doesn't listen to you, but that's what older brothers are supposed to do right? No matter how much you bicker, you know that he'll always have your back. At least you believe he will, he would never hurt his little Blessing right?

Harrison Boyd / The Old Bastard

You and Harrison don't exactly get along real well. If Jesse could be considered your brother, Harrison would be your very distant and always unhappy father. He doesn't hate you, you would know if he did, but he doesn't exactly like you either. Harrison may be a grumpy old bastard, but you can trust him to protect you and Jesse till his dying breath. Try not to annoy him too much, or he might ignore you the rest of the week.

Aster Vega / The Star-Eyed Outlaw / Gender Selectable (RO)

Aster Vega is your first and oldest friend. You first met when you were twelve and they attempted to steal your satchel. After you chased them down and, very aggressively I may add, took it back, they looked at you like you had hung the stars. They still have that look every time you end up running into them again along the road. You have no idea what you did to be looked at like that, but you think it might have something to do with Asters none stop prattling about fate and how "One day we'll ride together. It's written in the stars I know it". Maybe your fates truly are interlinked like they seem to believe.

Romance Route: Love at First sight, Forbidden Lovers, Impossible Love

Roman/a Escuella / The Savior / Gender Selectable (RO)

You met Ro at one of your darkest times ,yet in just a matter of weeks they bring back the light to your life that you had been searching for. They're kind, caring, gentle, and everything that you're not. They love and care for you without hesitation, bringing you into their life and sharing everything they have with you. Allowing you to experience everything you had dreamed of. The real question is, how badly are you going to burn them for their naivety?

Romance Route: First/Young love, Soulmates, Friends to Lovers to Enemies😏

Andrew & Elizabeth Cain / The Devout

You're parents who dragged you and your siblings along on their quest. They're actually insane, and dead. They may be gone, but their actions are hard to forget.

Adrian Blake / The Leader(RO)

He leads the gang that Aster is a part of. From what Aster has said he has a bit of a temper, but as long as you stay on his good side you'll be fine. He's after someone though, but Aster hasn't been told who. Just make sure to avoid him for now, it's for the best.

[storyowls]

My half of a writing trade I did where I was given some songs and picked the ones that most inspired stories. This particular trade involved me creating a Lasombra for them!

Introducing "Double A" Aukes

Just like all projects in the World of Darkness, this project is rated 18+. Like all kindred, Aster is a monster, and acts as such. Do not expect him to be a good person.

Taemin - Light 

Aster Aukes was very particular about his choices in life. And, well, undeath made him more set in those ways. Which, oddly enough, made finding his touchstones extremely easy. When one is particular about choices, they tend to find those who think the same way no matter where they go. Even if they never interact or see each other face to face. Oh yes, Aster was not short in choices for his threads to humanity.

Haneul Yi just so happens to be his favorite.

Haneul was a retired small-time kpop star in the city, she could have made it far but she didn’t feel the need. And somebody who chased the bliss of fame, even the most minute, intrigued Aster to no end. Especially when said person was very vocal about why she didn’t continue.

A truthful lady she was, and that endeared her to the older kindred.

They often ran into each other at parties (she never questioned why he was at such events) and mingled. She never noticed how Aster would seemingly chase off people who began to get too chummy, too close, too creepy. She did not mind how some producers who never left her alone before then gave her a wide pathway. She enjoyed her new friend’s company immensely, and was always glad to see him.

And he always enjoyed the light she emitted with her smile and personality.

Aster made certain she never saw his reflection, found his ways to wiggle out of voice calls of any kind. “I’m a particular, strange man, Miss Haneul. And I take to text messages much better.”

She bought it, and he was grateful.

Their friendship blossomed over the years, and every chance they had to see each other was greeted with relief. As he saw her begin to age, he somehow pushed down the negative feelings. After all, aging was part of the human experience, even after only three years. It was part of life, and she was human. He was not, and she had to do it all for him.

Aster was particular about his choices in life, and even more so in undeath.

Rumors began about somebody pestering Haneul. Aster grumbled upon hearing them, looking at his book as the gossip of a human telling him the tale prattled on. He was doing his best to not show any emotions at the news, but it was hard. The kindred listened to the news that his friend was starting to skip parties, and that infuriated him. A change to his touchstone?

That won’t do at all.

He and the gossip parted ways, and he went to look for more rumors. Whoever was doing this had to be known, seen, describable. And there was no way he was going to tolerate this behavior. No, not at all. This was his friend, his thread to humanity. Aster “Double A” Aukes was not going to tolerate this behavior at all.

The rumors flowed easily from the humans’ lips. His presence alone was enough to make them speak; there was a certain fear some people in their circles felt when he came to ask questions. He would be quiet, letting them speak before sliding them a little something for their information.

The cash wasn’t as good as not pissing him off, but nobody turned it down.

They’d watch as he left him, clearly pleased with what they shared. A strange sense of unease would leave him, seeming to be attached to his shadow. One of the people, a woman named Jolene, could almost swear she saw his shadow move in an unnatural way.

She decided, wisely, to believe it was just her imagination.

As Aster walked into the night, thoughts formed in his mind. The information clicked together, and he knew who to bring his…displeasure up to. Haneul’s protection was first and foremost, but there was nothing to prevent him from having some fun, right? A grin formed over his lips and he opened the back door of his car, watching as his ghoul turned to greet him. Aster Aukes was particular about his choices in life.

And undeath made him more settled in those ways.

Red Velvet - Naughty

(Warning: There's vague mention of death and murder towards the end of the story)

The car pulled up to the building, Aster turning his head to glance at it out the window. He didn’t wait for his ghoul, opening the door and stepping out, “You’ll know when I’m done.” The ghoul nodded, watching as he closed the door. Nobody came out to greet him, as if all the security had gone away for the night.

Well, they did, but that’s neither here nor there.

Quietly walking up to the front door, he craned his head to look into the lobby of the luxurious apartment building. One person came into view, spotting him. A smile rolled over his lips, and the stranger seemed startled. It wasn’t long until they basically ran for the door to open it for him.

“Oh, what wonderful manners,” he said in the most soothing and friendly voice he could muster. It didn’t seem to work, but that wasn’t super important at the moment. Stepping inside the vampire turned to the lobby worker, who was clearly holding something out for him.

“Thank you!” He gave them a smile, taking the spare room key that clearly was meant for maintenance. Holding it up, he noted the person lived on the top most floor. Of course.

“A-ah, the cameras uh ...mysteriously turned off.” That was a lie, this person did something to gain the promised payment. “I was told anywhere between half an hour to an hour for somebody to come fix them, sir.”

“Ahhhh, thank you. I’ll do my best to be out of here before then. I’ll make sure to leave a tip since you’ve been so lovely.” He smiled again, turning to go to the elevator. The lobby worker scuttled to their desk, sitting down and opening a book in order to pretend he wasn’t there.

Wise humans always impressed Aster.

Stepping into the smaller room, he adjusted his overcoat. The doors closed and he went up. Toying with the key in his hand, he smiled a much more wicked smile. The human side of him slipped, going deep inside to protect itself from what was coming. After a few minutes, the door opened and he stepped out, humming to himself.

And he smiled as he put the key into the lock.

He had his shadow hunt for him. 

Following it around, seeing it peek around a corner. He paused, seeing through it as it spotted somebody coming over to see why the hell they heard their door unlock. As the human stepped around, they froze at the sight.

Aster had done a good job of getting producers to leave Haneul alone, but apparently not good enough.

Walking over to him, he let out a sigh, “So, I would ask you if you have anything to say for yourself, but I don’t really care. And besides, I have a time limit.” Reaching out, he grinned as he put a hand on his shoulder, “And I’ve run out of patience for a warning.” The human was staring at him, starting to feel the fear run through him. He did not notice the weird shadows coming together on his walls, tentacles slithering out. 

And he barely had enough time to let out a strangled sound of fear as they struck. 

Leaving the apartment, Aster quietly closed the door and locked it. When the police came tomorrow, it’d look like a simple strangling on a restrained victim. Too simple for his taste, but he has to try to cover his tracks sometimes. Going to the elevator, he rides it back down. The key hits the counter as he tosses it to the side, and the lobby worker is instantly up.

He watched as they unlocked the doors, finally noticing the gloves they conveniently wore for work.

Clever, clever. 

He listened to the doors locked behind him as his ghoul drove back up. Getting back in, he shut and leaned back in his seat. They drove off, and he watched as the security guards finally came back for the night. Huh, how odd it was that their breaks were scheduled at the same time. As they left the parking lot, a smile came to his lips.

He was looking forward to the next party.

Haneul was there, and Aster was happy to see her. She seemed happy again, relaxed. The two of them had heard the whispers about the producer’s death, the rumors around it. But nobody ever mentioned a certain man who never seemed to be involved in the music industry being involved.

He’d have to be sure to send that lobby worker another tip, cash of course.

As the night moved on, the vampire was relaxed and watched as his friend matched his mood. A smile came over his lips, and she gave him that bright, full of light smile back. Aster Aukes was very particular about his choices in life. 

And, well, undeath made him more set in those ways.

[asters-garden]

But I am just as evil as I think I am, I’m better than the average person

how evil are you

[moonchildstyles]

ALSO for citrine!h something super soft would melt my heart. like maybe his girl suffers from really awful periods or something that are always super painful and exhausting and one month it just hits her so hard and h is just so caring and nurturing to her. 🥺❤️ he looks in all his books for special herb teas and different soups he can make to help her feel better and he lays in bed and rubs her tummy and her back when she has cramps STOP IM SO

could you write something with citrine and /or aster harry about the reader getting her period with him and not feeling well? love ur writing<3

wordcount: 11k+

—————

Harry felt his heart tingle, the lure attached to the organ trying to pull him away from his garden and down the side of his mountain to where the rest of his soul awaited. A bright smile bloomed across his features. 

(Y/N) was almost here.

She had rang him on his sunflower a couple of hours prior, telling him she needed to take care of a couple of errands and pack for the night before she would be on her way over, and he'd been waiting in his garden since. The flowers all around him perked up just as their creator did, following the ray of sunshine he had become for them as he stretched his legs. The bell bottoms of his trousers flourished with every step he took towards the edge of his clearing, his heart roaring the closer and closer to his beloved he became. 

Just as he was about to burst through the treeline, the carrier of his soul beat him to it, her own features set into a glowing smile. 

"Hi, honey," she beamed at him, dropping her overnight bag into the lush grass at their feet. His already sore heart beat a broken tune at the sound of the petname he'd only ever heard wrapped in her voice. 

She launched herself into his opened arms as soon she was free of the weight of her bag, the wind being knock out of Harry for just a moment as he stumbled back before recovering. He fiercely reciprocated her hold, keeping his sunshine close enough to his chest his heart didn't ache so much trying to get to its companion housed in (Y/N)'s chest. 

"Sunshine," he sighed with matching relief. It'd only been thirty-six hours since he'd last been with her, and yet it felt like it could have been weeks with the way a newfound sense of comfort settled over him like nothing had before.

Seeing her like this would never get old. 

He allowed her to pull away just enough to see her face, trace his eyes over her features in commemorative runs. He needed to know if anything changed since he'd seen her last, anything else for him to add to the collection of things like fluttering lashes and stray baby hairs that now made his heart race. 

"How are you? How was class? Did your presentation go alright?" he prattled off as he raised his hands to cradle her cheeks in his warm palms. Her aura radiated around her in buttery yellows and sweetened pinks—his favorite combination on her. 

"I'm good, it was good," she told him, her smile going soft as she seemingly did the same in taking in his aura, "I honestly don't remember much of it because I was so nervous, but I'm assuming it went well since I wasn't called in for office hours after." 

Harry's face soured at the reminder of her professor who was much too harsh on his sunshine in his opinion. "Oh yeah, it was for that class, I forgot," he muttered, shaking his head, "He better leave y'alone, you're the smartest person in the world let alone his little classroom. Needs to be nicer to you." 

The grin on (Y/N)'s face burst into an affectionate laugh at his serious tone. "It's alright, H, don't worry," she assured him, her looped arms squeezing around his middle, "I only have a couple more months of this semester, then I never have to see him again." 

"And, you'll be on break with me," Harry added with a dreamy sigh. Though he wasn't one for the colder months, typically thriving under the sun of summer and sweet air of spring, there was nothing he loved more than spending (Y/N)'s breaks with her, even the winter one. 

"Mhm," she hummed, a glint flaring in her gaze that matched the flash of chipper orange that ribboned through her aura at a second glance, "Unless, you're working, of course." 

Bubbling excitement forged its way through Harry's system at her words. His hands fell to her shoulders, rings glinting in the bright sunlight overhead. 

"Wait, did they—"

Before Harry could even finish his question, (Y/N) bounced in her spot, a beaming smile scrunching her eyes and creating parenthetical lines on either side of her mouth. "Yes, yes! They called today when I was in class, and, H, they loved you! They left a message and offered you the job, you just need to call them back!" 

Gathering her into a hug, Harry barred his forearms around her shoulders as he rocked them in their spot. "Really? They loved me?" Harry bubbled off, his words traveling through the strands of her hair that fluttered around the home he made in her neck. 

"They said they appreciated how much you knew about all the classics, and they could tell you really loved just being there with all the records. They said they really want you on their team, H." (Y/N)'s voice rattling off all the compliments supposedly shared by his new employers sounded sweeter and a more compelling offer than what he was sure awaited him on her tiny cell phone. 

Harry basked in the feeling—the feeling of being in his beloved's arms, the feeling of taking another tiny step back into the world he rejected, and the feeling of being so loved in that moment he swore his heart was to burst. All he needed was Bonnie circling their feet and Dandelion bundling up between his ankles and it would be his idea of heaven.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry." 

That just about melted him. Harry could only hug (Y/N) tighter. 

"Thank you, sunshine. 'S all for you," he murmured, telling her the same thing he did when he told her he applied, got the call for an interview, and returned back from that first meeting. It was the truth, anyway. If not for her, he would still be hermitting away in his cottage, never having had a chance to feel so loved and needed like he did in that moment. 

(Y/N) drew away, Harry barely allowing her the room before relenting his grip on her. Her eyes shone with pride, a matching, colorful aura haloing her form. "Kiss?" 

He didn't even have to think before he was pressing his lips to hers, a garden growing in his chest at the contact. His arms around her form shifted until he was cradling the sides of her neck in his palms, thumb running along the line of her jaw in affectionate passes. Harry kissed her in small bursts of gentle presses, imprinting the feel of her lips against his own. 

When (Y/N) made the move to draw away, Harry had to stop himself from chasing after her lips, a pout forming on his own before he saw the light in her eyes as she gazed up at him. She really was his own personal sunshine. 

"Why don't you give them a call back, and I'll go put my stuff away and say hi to the girls?" (Y/N) proposed, Harry relenting to move his kissing to the soft of her cheek as she spoke. 

"One more, one more, sunshine," he mumbled, already replacing his mouth over hers as soon as he got the plea out. 

(Y/N) kissed him as best she could through her smile, keeping true to the promise of one more before she was pulling away and out of his embrace. She offered him her phone with a here!, sure he would finagle some sort of spell to cast around the device if he didn't immediately get what she called "service" up here. (Harry wasn't sure exactly what service was, but he knew that the set of bars up top needed to be filled in if he wanted to do anything other than take photos). 

His hands were jittery as he navigated her cell phone, finding the voicemail that was left for him. (Y/N) had been right, they seemed to really like him and Harry was all but bouncing in his boots as he placed a charm on her device that allowed him the "service" to redial the phone number and connect with the shop. 

When he heard the cheery greeting on the other end of the phone, the voice of someone who would now be his coworker, Harry brightened with excitement. That would be him soon, answering the phone so he could bestow his knowledge on all things music on whoever was on the other end. With his ear trained towards (Y/N), keeping some of his attention on her as she went about his cottage, Harry bubbled through the phone calls. 

Just as he had hoped, his new employers were excited to hear back from him and it only took a few moments to get everything set up. He was now an official member of the Record Scratch Music Store, a boutique that specialized in all things music with the largest selection of records Harry had ever seen in one place. Plus, it was a part of the same plaza that (Y/N) worked at. 

As soon as he had his first day set up for the following week, Harry couldn't wait to find (Y/N) again and celebrate for a second time that afternoon. He couldn't help himself, he was so excited and proud of himself for those baby steps he was taking to become an even better beloved for her. 

He moved on quick feet towards the cottage, expecting to see (Y/N) sprawled out on his bed with Bonnie loving on her at her feet and Dandelion huddled in her lap. Instead, he found Bonnie still laid out on the porch, head resting on her paws, with Dande munching away at the mushrooms that were growing along the edge of the stoop. A furrow pinched at his brow as the heels of his boots clicked over the wooden deck of his porch, the view through the screen door revealing that she wasn't even lying on his bed or pattering through his kitchen. 

"(Y/N)?" he called as he stepped over the threshold, almost tripping over her overnight bag that had been dropped by the door. 

The bond wrapped around his heart urged him in the direction of the bathroom, the door shut tightly though light seeped out from underneath. "Just a second, Harry," (Y/N) answered back, voice sounding tight. 

Though worry gripped at his middle, Harry sunk down on the edge of his bed and waited patiently.

She wasn't sick, was she? No, Harry decided, he would have been able to tell by her aura if she was feeling ill. Right? Maybe she was changing into some comfy clothes for the sleepover they were having? But, then again, she usually didn't bother with locking herself away behind the bathroom door in those moments, much too comfortable with the fact Harry has seen and loved all of her to worry about redressing out of his view. Why would she be hiding from him, then?

It wasn't until (Y/N) was brought into his life that Harry realized he was a bit of a worry wart. Nothing could spring his anxiety the way she could with the way he was overly concerned with ensuring every bit of her comfort and happiness was protected. Those worries were usually very easily quelled with a look at her aura, golden tinges shining through that showed him that she was being truthful when she said she was fine and happy. But, until that moment came, his heart that had been waiting for her for decades didn't settle, urging Harry to find a solution to any and every scenario that ran through his head. 

That was how he found himself sitting with a bouncing leg, eyes trained on the bathroom door in wait. When (Y/N) finally emerged, she had redressed into a pair of his worn sweats, the waist and legs cuffed the same way he had to after years of wear stretching out the elastic. She didn't seem any different, hair still fluttering like a dream around her, skin glowing under his gaze, and toes still painted the buttery yellow he had done for her last week on their self-care night at her apartment. 

"Everything alright, (Y/N)?" Harry asked, rising from his spot on the bed, arms reaching out to retrieve her as she dropped her discarded clothes on the top of her overnight bag. 

"Mhm," she hummed with a nod of her head, "Why?" 

He noted the way she wouldn't let him get a peek at her eyes, and subsequently her aura, as she instead bundled into his arms. She pressed her cheek snugly against his chest, arms looped around his middle. Though he was happy to have her back in his arms, bundled in his clothes, Harry pouted as he looked down at her, worried.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Harry spoke through the stands of hair on the crown of her head, "You jus' seem sad all of the sudden. Did something happen?" 

A beat passed before (Y/N) muttered a response, "I'm not sad or anything, H, don't worry." 

"(Y/N)," he pouted into her hair, her name coming out on a whine, "You're making me worried, sunshine." 

Harry paid close attention to the way she hesitated, the way she shifted in his arms as if her thoughts were uncomfortable to keep inside. 

"Its... It's kind of... gross, H," she murmured, voice quiet. 

A pinch pulled Harry's brows together in a furrow as he listened to her. "What do you mean?" 

She sighed, but didn't offer any kind of elaboration. Harry's worry never lessened as he waited for her to form a response, only being a solid pillar for her cling and snuggle up to while she worked up to whatever she apparently feared sharing with him. Gently stroking his fingers up and down her back, he waited oh-so-patiently—just like he did during those decades he hadn't even known he was waiting to meet her. 

Finally—finally!—, (Y/N) spared him and settled her chin on his chest, allowing him to get a look at her aura once he met her gaze. An unflattering shade of yellow streamed around her form with a melancholic bruise of a blue shade running like spokes through the halo. She was embarrassed and sad, the anxiety she expressed surely going hand-in-hand with the colors tinting her aura.

"What is it, sunshine?" he murmured, bringing one of his hands up to brush over her cheek. 

Scanning over her features, Harry couldn't bite back the smile that curled the corners of his lips and brought out just the beginnings of his dimples. She was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, even when she was holding a secret. 

"It's just..." she sighed, cutting herself off with a roll of her eyes, "Oh my god, I don't know why I'm so embarrassed. It's not even a big deal." 

Harry didn't push her as she thought aloud, only watching and taking it in as he brushed the pad of his thumb soothingly along the height of her cheekbone. He didn't take his eyes off her, making note of every eyelash, every pore, and every strand that made up his Flame. 

Because of that, it was impossible for him to miss the way her spine stiffened up before it seemed the air was pulled from her lungs. For a beat, her features were molded with creases as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force a stunted breath through her mouth. Her arms were tight around his middle, hands squeezed into fists behind his back with the fabric of his shirt getting bunched up in the grip. Just before her eyes closed, Harry caught a glimpse of a burning red searing through her aura before it flickered out. 

She was in pain. 

Before Harry had the mind to react—a healing spell on the tip of his tongue, but too muddled to be strung together through his heart-pounding fear—, (Y/N) settled. Her body relaxed, exhaustion seemingly dragging her down while Harry held her tightly. Her features unfurled, the creases and wrinkles of pain disappearing before she was left with serenely closed eyes and a deep breath being sucked in through her lips. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry murmured, worried out of his mind right then that she hadn't told him something important and now she was suffering body-aching side effects. 

"Sorry, sorry," she shook her head, hair fluttering around her face as she blinked her eyes open, "I'm okay, it was just a really bad cramp, that's all."  He could see her gearing up to tell him something else, one more thing, before she hesitated. That unflattering yellow shimmered around her form. In a last ditch effort, he watched as she shuttered her eyes with a grumpy furrow to her brows before she spoke, "I started my period last night, and it's not even a big deal, I'm just having really bad cramps this time and I'm scared I'm going to bleed on your sheets tonight on accident."

Harry listened to her rushed words, his brows pinched. He held her steady with his palms warming her cheeks, though he could argue that the hold was to anchor him more than anything. It made him ache hearing that she was so upset over something so simple, and the feeling was put on blast the second she explained the searing pain that had shot through her as cramps. 

"Sunshine," he sighed, the call of her petname puffing between the two of them. It was then that (Y/N) blinked her eyes open, already looking more exhausted than she had just a moment ago. "Are they always like this? Painful?" he prodded. He would hate to find out that this wasn't the first time she'd visited him while on her period and hid the symptoms.

"No, not always," she murmured, looking up at him, "Its only every once in a while that my cramps get really bad like this. I usually just try to stay home if they are, but I really wanted to see you this weekend." 

A heavy sigh worked its way out of Harry's lungs as he looked down at his heart's face cradled in his hands. Streaks of gold tinted her aura, honesty shining through, with an uncomfortable orange biting at the edges that showed him she still wasn't quite settled after the last string of cramps that rattled her body. Even her hold on him seemed shaky, as if it was taking every bit of her strength to keep her arms looped around him after exhaustion seeped into her muscles. 

"C'mere," he beckoned her, making a slow trail of his hands down her form until he was unraveling her knotted fingers from where they were placed behind his back and lacing them between his own. 

(Y/N) pliantly allowed him to guide her to the edge of his bed. He sat her down gently on the mattress before he crouched between her legs, knees hitting the wood floor of his cottage with his heels propped up under his bottom. Harry looked up at her with his hands warming her thighs, eyes matching her own so he could gauge her aura. 

Even without the colors radiating from her form, the creases lining her features, bags under her eyes, and the declining slope of her shoulders told him all he needed to know about how the last twenty-four hours hadgone for her. 

"Y'look so tired, dove. Why haven't y'told me sooner about this?" Harry pressed, his fingertips denting into the soft flesh of her thighs, borrowed sweatpants giving way under his grip. 

Dropping her gaze to his hands on her thighs, (Y/N) let out a bubble of laughter though the sound didn't give any light to her eyes like normal. "I thought you were always supposed to think I'm pretty; isn't that what soulmates are for?" 

"No, sunshine, you know I don't mean it like that. Always, always, always so beautiful; breaks my heart to see you sometimes, it feels so full," Harry rambled, immediately reassuring her with the truth on instinct. He even leaned up and into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "All I meant," he continued, "was that y'don't look as happy as y'usually do. Don't like seeing y'sad." 

A quiet shrug rocked (Y/N)'s shoulders. "I couldn't sleep well last night—I didn't feel good. And I woke up way too early today, but as soon as the cramps started I wasn't able to go back to sleep so I've just been waiting to come over." 

A pout pushed at Harry's lips, "I wish y'had told me over the sunflow—" 

"But it's embarrassing, H." 

"I don't see how it's embarrassing at all, sunshine, really. 'S natural." Harry didn't allow his gaze to stray from hers at all, wanting to make sure she knew that what he was saying was gospel as far as he was concerned. "Growing up with m'sister and mum, and all the women in our coven, 's not like I've never been around this. It was never anything any of them were ashamed of, either. The moon was gifting them with their connection to our Earth, in a way that only someone like you and m'family could handle. Stars know, I could never be as brave as you are to go through this every month, and yet here you are. 'S nothing y'need to be ashamed of or embarrassed about—especially around me, my love." 

Her features softened as she listened to him, her glowing aura growing gentle along with her. Baby pinks and soothed greens made their appearance around her form. 

"I didn't think about it like that," (Y/N) mumbled, peeking through her lashes to match his gaze, "I don't know why I was worried you would be weird about it, I'm sorry." 

His smile bloomed over his mouth and stretched his cheeks as he ran his palms in a soothing circuit along her thighs. "Dovie, I've been around way too long to grossed out about something like this. You've got nothing to worry about." Harry stood to the full of his height between her legs, boots settling on the wood grain of his floor. "Now, c'mere," he beckoned to her, arms opening up wide, "Gotta hug me properly now after that." 

(Y/N) rose to her feet with a smile so airy and relaxed Harry felt his heart bloat. He liked knowing that he could be one of the reasons that she released that tension that had followed her out of the bathroom. Just as promised, she wrapped her arms around his middle in an affectionate hug, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and splaying across the small of his back in the skin-to-skin contact they always craved after spending time apart. Harry felt his own muscles practically liquify at the feeling, her nails skimming his skin in a gentle brush that he recognized as her.

Stooping down just enough, Harry was able to comfortably cuddle her against his body with his arms barred around her shoulders and his face in her hair. A gentle smattering of kisses was placed at the crown of her head, the garden outside the window growing in mirroring plots. Breathing came easier when she was in his arms. 

Settling his cheek on the top of her head, Harry allowed his eyes to flutter to a close. As much as he loved having her cuddled up like this—flush against his body as their chests swayed in tandem as they breathed—he couldn't get the look of her exhausted gaze out of his mind. 

Though he tried to maintain as much contact as he could, Harry slipped his arms from around her, taking a careful step back before he grabbed for her hands to tangle his fingers through. "Cuddle?" he asked her, looking down at his Fated, their matching polished fingers bundled between them. 

A light returned to her irises at his line of question, nodding her head with the edges of her mouth turning up into a quirked smile. It was Harry's pleasure guiding her onto his creaking mattress, the fluffiest of his pillows being used to cushion her head before Harry followed through on his proposition.

The air was a little too warm to call for the need of the quilt stretched over his mattress, but that didn't deter Harry from becoming his own version of a human duvet with a heavy arm falling across (Y/N)'s waist. The span of his palm was splayed across the small of her back as he pulled her close to his chest. It was her that tucked her face under his chin, nose nudging the dip in his collarbones just before she hooked her ankle around his own and tangled their legs. 

Fisting his shirt in her grip, (Y/N) relaxed into the cradle of his hold, Harry watching as she finally seemed to relax in what appeared to be for the first time in the last twenty-four hours if she'd been experiencing those cramps all night long. He kept his hold on her steady as he felt her energy level out, her body being lulled into what he would charm into being a restful sleep. 

Just as he felt the blink of her aura beginning to soothe itself out while she slept, (Y/N) flared awake with a tense in her back and her breath being stolen. Instinctively, she moved as if intending to curl in on herself if Harry hadn't been there to block her movements. 

"Oh, sunshine," he crooned, the words being lost in the strands of hair on the top of her head as he held her that much tighter. 

His hand on her back worked a soothing circuit along her spine, willing all of the comforting energy he could muster without a true incantation into his hand so he could push away some of pain coursing through her system. A furrow pinched his brow as the ache lingered in her bones, not quite releasing her just yet. What he wouldn't give to take this pain from her; he'd bear the burden of the cramps and exhaustion himself if he knew she wouldn't have to experience the hardest parts of this gift every month. 

Harry knew the worst of it was over for the moment when she sunk deeply into the mattress under them, her body somehow feeling heavier after that moment, her nose nudging against his collarbones as she let out a heavy breath. 

"If I could," he murmured to her, lips pressing against the crown of her head, "I would take all this away. Hate seeing y'in so much pain." 

"I know you would, H," she whispered, voice as heavy as her muscles, "And if you ever figure out how, I won't stop you." 

That brought a smile to his face at her tiny joke. It would be his lifelong mission if it came to that—finding some kind of mystical cure to what she was enduring. 

Harry didn't stop his hand from the running circuit on her back as she settled into a hopefully more successful attempt at sleeping. He stayed that way even when he felt her energy lull into a true rest. A murmured spell into her hairline ensured she would only experience comforting, happy dreams for as long as she slept with another incantation following after that would keep her resting until most of her exhaustion finally fled from her system.  

Watching over her head, the shadows around his cottage shifted and changed as the sun traced its path in the sky. Never once did Harry dare to move from the cocoon he made around his lover's body. Even when (Y/N) rolled around in his hold, pillow fluffing under her head and duvet mussing around her form, he stayed just where he was when she settled with her back clumsily pressed against his chest. Now his hand laid gentle over her stomach, the soothing energy he could manifest into his palm now working on the knot that lingered and tightened with every ache that wracked through her system. 

He only bothered with a wave of his hand when Bonnie began to whine at the screen door to be let in followed by Dande hopping behind her. His girls had grown to love (Y/N), too, so he wasn't surprised to see Bonnie nose at her arm that hung over the edge of the bed, licking at her palm just once before his lion settled into a roll on the floor, eyes on the front door as she played guard for the night. Dande took quiet steps over the creaking mattress, her budding nose puffing  as she sniffed over Harry's hand on (Y/N)'s tummy, her ears twitching. Peaking over (Y/N)'s form, Dandelion gave him a look that only his intuitive bunny could manage, as if she was well aware of what was going on and was worried like Harry. He watched with a small smile as Dande made herself into a ball that conformed with the shape of (Y/N)'s sleeping body, padding herself against the ache in (Y/N)'s tummy like she knew. 

Having all of his girls together—both of his pets even taking on a portion of helping ease (Y/N)—made Harry's heart feel so full he feared it would steal his breath. If his Flame hadn't been feeling so down in the dumps today, he would think of this as the most perfect moment, the kind that he didn't even know he had been yearning for all those years alone.

But, knowing (Y/N) was alright now, soothed enough that she could fall into a deep sleep, he felt himself being drawn into the dreamland she was currently visiting. With Dandelion standing guard at (Y/N)'s tummy and Bonnie being the protector of the front door, he figured he could take a moment and nap with his Flame.

Hopefully, he would find her even in his dreams. 

—————

It was Dande that cut his nap short as she plodded over the pillows until she was puffing her nose in Harry's face and nudging him awake. He fluttered his eyes open to the still waning sun, long shadows dancing around his cottage with (Y/N) still protected against his chest just as she had been when he fell asleep. Bonnie was a steady presence that he could just barely see over the edge of the bed, not having moved much from when he had last had his eyes opened. 

Dandelion was the only one to have moved, looking down at him from where she stood on his pillows. "What's wrong?" he murmured to her, voice deep and dredged in sleep. 

His bunny only shuffled her feet on the cushion, ears twitching. Her puffing nose never relented, dark gaze still attached to Harry as if he should have already read her mind. 

"Is there anything wrong, or did y'jus' miss me?" Harry pressed. He wouldn't be surprised to find out she was only missing the attention he gave her, and woke him up because of it.

Instead of the humph he was expecting from her, she gave a gentle thump with her back foot to the pillow under his head. If she had brows he knew they would be downturned to match grumpy attitude she was giving him. 

"Dandelion," he sighed, tightening his hold on (Y/N), "If you're grumpy that we're napping, 'm sorry, but I can let y'outside if y'want. (Y/N) needs her sleep, honey, we need to let her." 

The little bunny didn't move from her grumped perch, only shuffling her paws. Harry was just about to shoo her away, urge her to cuddle up against (Y/N) again or conjure up something fun for her to play with outside if she was so bored, until she let out that huff he'd been waiting for before leaning down and nibbling at a stray curl of his splayed over the pillow. 

A gentle tug was felt at his scalp as she pulled on the strands, just enough to get Harry's attention. The pieces clicked together then, her grumpy attitude making complete sense. 

"You're hungry?" he asked her, his voice coming out on a laugh, "Is that what you're all upset about, Dande? Could've told me, I can put something together for you, ju—" 

Before he could finish his offer, Dandelion stopped nibbling at his hair and instead rubbed her face over the top of (Y/N)'s head, her cheek smushing against the crown. Harry watched her for a second, trying to piece together this second set of information. 

"Do y'want (Y/N) to make you f—No? That's not it?" If bunnies could roll their eyes, Harry knew Dandelion wouldn't hesitate to spare his feelings. It was when she gave a short nibble to the pillowcase before twitching her ears in (Y/N)'s direction that Harry (hopefully) caught onto what Dande was trying to tell him. "(Y/N)'s hungry?" 

The little perk up in Dandelion's posture told him all he needed to know, even if he swore her eyes were telling him Duh! 

"Thank y'for telling me, honey," he cooed to her, reaching his free hand out from under his head and gentle patting between his bunny's ears. 

He didn't doubt her intuition, his Dandelion. More often than not, she was smarter than him anyway, so he didn't bother to grill her on how exactly she knew (Y/N) was hungry and that Harry needed to know immediately so he could fix that. He only gave her a lingering brush of his fingers between her perked ears that made her eyes blink to a slow close before he made careful work of removing himself from the bed. 

Harry gently unwrapped himself from around his Flame in a careful extraction, ensuring she wasn't jostled too much and stayed content in her sleep. Dandelion made her place against (Y/N)'s side, keeping her company again now that Harry knew how dire the situation was. 

Bonnie barely lifted her head from where it rested on her paws as Harry stepped over the floorboards, a grin blooming on his face that could rival the sunflowers growing along the shingles of his roof. Bathed in the buttered sunlight, the most important facets of Harry's life were threaded together on his bed. Dandelion was now happily sprawled out in comfort, feet kicked out beside (Y/N) with Bonnie being the perfect roll by the bed, the sleepiest protector. (Y/N) was still the vision of serenity as his charms were taking perfect care of her, letting his heart rest and dream perfect dreams. 

He couldn't help himself before he clicked his fingers, his gifted polaroid—arguably his most valuable and favorite possession along with his record player and vinyl collection—was summoned to him. The yellow camera was heavy in his hands as he brought the viewfinder to his eye, the vision in front of him now warped. The click and shutter of the camera going off was the only sound to fill the room before the film was printing from the slot at the front. Harry was quick to grab for it, clicking his camera back to its safe spot in his closet with a snap of his fingers. 

The photo developed slowly, though Harry's grin didn't waver as he waited. Once it came all together, he was granted with the perfect vision of what lie before him, frozen in time and his to keep for the rest of his existence. The lens had perfectly picked up on the slight gap to (Y/N)'s lips, short puffs of air falling from between them as she dreamt her sweetened dreams. Baby hairs were pasted to her temples, the strands kissing at the frame of her face the way he loved to do. The whole vision was bathed in golden tones, the perfect glimmering light that caught the high points of her face and pinged off the tips of her bare lashes as she slept with her cheek smushed into his pillow. Around her were the woodland guardians that made up the rest of Harry's small family. Bonnie emulated a warm cinnamon roll perched on the floor, slacking on her guard lion duties as she slept the afternoon away, with Dandelion a puff of white fur cuddling into (Y/N)'s tummy with a puffing nose and twitchy ears. 

Harry's heart swelled as he took in every detail. With a brush of his fingertips along the edge of the film, the photo was brought to life. The golden light filtering through the window now gleamed in sunspots over (Y/N)'s hair and sparkled as it hit the highpoints of her face. The shadows shifted as the flowers outside gently swayed in the summer breeze. It was perfect—the perfect dream that would come to Harry's mind if he had been charmed into having the most pleasant of dreams. 

Padding across the floor, being mindful of the creakiest of his floorboards, Harry made his way to the wall facing his bed. Along the wall was shimmering vines that grew in celebration of the love he held for his Flame, flowers twinkling with points of light dotted across the flora. In the gaps of the growth was all the photos he had pinned to his wall, moments with (Y/N) or his pets, shots of his garden and the moon that he never wanted to forget. Each frame displayed that moment in time on repeat—(Y/N) twirling in the meadow outside his cottage, Dandelion trying to shove her namesake plant in her mouth, Bonnie circling his feet with a whipping tail. This new photo found its place just beside a picture of (Y/N) making a kissy face at him through the lens, the frame showing off the way she laughed after making the pose. 

A broad grin made its way onto his face, dimples deep in his cheeks, smile lines creasing his face, as he trailed his gaze along the wall. Wasn't he a lucky, lucky man? 

Casting a short glance over his shoulder, he found (Y/N) still cuddled into his bed, serenely sleeping away the exhaustion that tainted her features. Dande was happily snuggled against her mom's tummy, though that didn't stop her from throwing side-eyes in Harry's direction. He knew that if she could talk, she would no doubt be hounding him for taking too long on following through her what she told him. She's still hungry, you know, he could picture her prattling off, Just because you took a picture of us doesn't mean you can get distracted.

The attitude of that little thing. He had a plan, no reason to worry. (Y/N) was going to be well taken care of, no doubt. 

Harry allowed one last lingering glance across his wall of art, before he was silently stepping away.  He needed to find his spell book, see if there was anything in there that could help ease the discomfort of (Y/N)'s cramps and hopefully gently help her through the next week. The spell he had in mind before, the incantation that instinctively came to the forefront of his mind the first second he saw her tense and in pain wouldn't be much help as she didn't have any physical wounds to heal. He needed something that would soothe her internally. 

Reaching under his bed with a careful pet to Bonnie's head, he found his large, leather bound spell book. Inside held every word that guided him through his life as a witch. His most favorite chapters were clearly marked with the worn corners and edges of the paper, those pages surely detailing out any romantic spellwork that could be performed between a witch and their Flame. Though he instinctively gravitated towards those pages, he stopped himself before he could become distracted with the looping handwriting of an ancestor he'd never met, but had the same privilege as he in meeting their soulmate. 

Instead, he followed the fading index at the front of the book, looking for healing and soothing spells and rituals. The chapter glossary directed him to "Spells needed during a Blood Moon Cycle" (which is very different from spells that are used during a Blood Moon, as many witches have made the mistake and come up with very differing results). Inside were spells he remembered his sister vaguely using, or the many other witches in his coven as he grew up, though he never felt the need to memorize them. 

Harry flipped through the pages, scanning over the results while he waited for the perfectly right spell to pop up. Short rituals to help with mood swings? No, she doesn't need that he didn't think. A spell to ward off the cycle all together? A little too late for that it seemed. A salve to help heal hormonal breakouts? Glancing at (Y/N)'s glowing skin, Harry figured he wouldn't need to worry about that one, especially if she didn't ask for it first. 

Potions to help with cramps? Perfect! 

Harry thumbed to the page, taking in the first slew of ingredients. Reading it over, this particular potion seemed a little too ancient to execute, especially with the use of a Harper's Nest being called for. (No Harpers had been seen in centuries, let alone any remaining nests on Earth). Flicking to the backside of the same page, he found a much more familiar recipe. 

Reading it over, Harry pinged where the ingredients were in his head, a map forming of all the places he would need to slip off to before (Y/N) woke. He wanted to have it warm and ready for her the second she woke up, the tea-like potion something for her to sip on while he made dinner. That was how he found himself pressing a gentle kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before trying his best to avoid the creaky floorboards of his cottage as he made his way outside. 

The recipe he had stowed away in his brain directed him to his garden first, finding the short stalks of chamomile flowers that started popping up once he added daisies to his plots. Muttering a quiet thank you to his plants, he tugged out a grouping of the flowers, a tiny bouquet forming in his hands of the white flowers. Digging through the rest of his garden, he pulled some nettle leaves carefully from the bunch, ensuring he didn't accidentally sting himself with the pointed greens. 

With his growing potion in hand, Harry left the meadow of his home with a quick glance behind him to ensure (Y/N) was still safe and sound asleep. He didn't love leaving her alone, but he needed to grab this one last ingredient then he could once again join her. Scavenging around the area past the tree line, Harry found the bushel he was looking for just past one of the bigger trees that helped hide the view to his clearing. 

Instead of a tall, limbering tree like most cherry plants, Harry searched the ground for a small bush staying close to the strongest roots of the large tree. Underneath all of the low hanging greens were pert little cherries. The bright red hue stuck out starkly against the green of their leaves and the dirt path they bordered. Plucking off a few pairs of the fruits, Harry grinned when he saw just what he had been looking for. 

These cherries had abandoned the regular rounded shape of their cousins long ago, instead following the pattern of the sky and molding their flesh into the shape of the stars above them. Since they grew so low to the ground, the only way to reach the kind of light needed to grow, was from the twinkling stars that peeked through the brush. The starlight gave the fruits their own special properties, especially as they became so in sync with the moon cycle, making it perfect for what Harry was hoping to do with his potion. 

Harry made quick work of navigating through the trees, finding his way back to his heart. (Y/N) was sound asleep still as he crossed the threshold, Bonnie being the only one to acknowledge his presence as she lifted her head from where it rested on her paws with half hooded eyes. 

Feeling the energy of his little family behind him, Harry happily got to work in the kitchen. His mortar and pestle were the first stop in making his tea, the chamomile flowers and nettles going in first before he began to grind them together. The petals of the flowers fell apart and mixed with the green leaves, leaving streaks of yellow from the center and fragrant punches of their floral aroma to linger in the air. A quick flick of his fingers allowed for the paste to begin drying, becoming crumbly and perfect for the teabags he was to scoop them in. As he allowed the process to take place, next was steeping of the cherries on the stove to make the perfect tart base for her tea, the cherries hopefully covering up the bitter nettle taste. The starlight berries floated in the slowly boiling water on the stove, tinting everything pink as the color seeped from the flesh and allowing dews of starlight to trickle through. 

Stirring through the beginnings of the tea, Harry watched in awe of the stars twinkling through, creating vortexes with a spin of his spoon. If he looked close enough, he'd bet there were galaxies forming in the pot.

A delicate sigh sounded from behind him before the springs of his mattress creaked under movement. Peeking over his shoulder, he found (Y/N) adjusting herself in her sleep, though he could tell from he beat of her energy she wouldn't be sleeping for too much longer. The sun had made its way down low to the horizon, taking them farther from the lunchtime she had missed and closer to dinner where he planned on taking care of her before entertaining her until she found sleep once more. 

With her tea warming and the paste that would fill the teabags drying under an imaginary sun, Harry got to work on the dinner he was set to make for her. She always loved the soups he made for her, just behind the fresh pastries he was trying his hand at after becoming obsessed with a bakery in town. But, he figured he didn't really have enough time to make the perfectly layered and flaky croissant right now, so soup it was. 

With a pot warming up stock on the stove next to her simmering tea (the stars had become so plentiful that the dark liquid was beginning to shimmer like the night sky), the sound of Harry chopping vegetables and portioning out the ingredients filled the room. If not for (Y/N)'s sleeping, he would have flicked his record player on, Elton John being on tonight's turntable. Instead, he kept his focus on the moving parts going on in his kitchen. 

Wild rice, potatoes, peas, and yogurt were the first editions to his soup, letting everything soften and warm while he took care of the final steps of (Y/N)'s tea. With a wave of his fingers, tiny, cloth teabags were summoned to his workstation. As he spooned the chamomile and nettle mixture into the bags, Harry flicked his gaze to the windowsill in front of him, a handful of his crystals having been charging in the day's sun. Spotting the small shard of amethyst that shown a velvety purple in the darkening sky beside the cluster of celestite that matched the baby blue tones of morning sunshine, Harry deviated from the original spell for just a moment. Plucking the pair of crystals, Harry added them to what would be (Y/N)'s serving of the tea, allowing their healing properties to seep into the cherry sweet base of her drink. 

Setting a pair of mugs aside, Harry spooned the cherry drink into the ceramic first, (Y/N)'s carefully taken care of in a special cow printed mug she loved drinking out of when she came over. Her teabag was left to steep inside while Harry's was pushed off to the side in wait of whenever (Y/N) was ready and awake. With a flick of his wrist and a short spell muttered under his breath, the helpings of tea were charmed to stay warm in their mugs no matter how much time passed. His focus shifted to the now warmed soup, the bit of magic he cast that helped in the process of softening the vegetables and cooking the rice brought them to just the perfect temperature as he whisked his spoon through the creamy mixture. 

While bubbles simmered to the surface, Harry distracted himself with the herb garden he had growing just along the sill of his glassless window. As he plucked at the bunches of sage and thyme, Harry almost missed the sound of the bed creaking, a pulse in (Y/N)'s energy signaling she was awake. Dropping the seasonings to the counter, a bright grin took over Harry's features. 

Turning on his heel, his heart beat just a bit faster as he took in the way her messy hair was fluffed around her face as she knuckled at her eye. A slight furrow pinched at her brow as she sat up, Dandelion none too happy with the change in position though it only took her a moment to take advantage of the warm spot (Y/N) left behind. 

"Hi, sunshine," he sighed, voice soft as he rounded the peninsula counter of his kitchen to be closer to his love. 

"Hi," she muttered, voice giving away just how groggy she was with a grumble to her tone. 

"How'd y'sleep, dove?" Harry asked, shuffling to crouch in front of where she sat on the edge of his bed. Gentle hands landed on the thick of her thighs, palms warming her skin through the fabric of her borrowed sweats. 

Her hooded eyes blinked slowly at him as she ran a hand through her hair. "Good—way better than last night," she murmured, a smile tugging at her sleep-dredged features, "Did you put a spell on me or something? Because I even had those good dreams of you and I." 

That would never get old, Harry decided; every time he put a sweet dream charm on her, she always shared that those dreams typically consisted of the two of them, lounging or kissing or whatever els her mind conjured up to make her sleep sweet. 

"Maybe," Harry mused, a quiet shrug of his shoulders being the only answer she needed, "Dande told me y'were hungry, is that true?" 

(Y/N) gazed down at him with a pinch in her brow at the mention of the bunny's name. "How did she know that?" 

"I don't know, love," Harry started, flicking his gaze to the sleeping rabbit behind her, "She knows things that I don't think I'll ever understand. I stopped questioning her a long time ago." 

He could see the way (Y/N) accepted the answer, just as she did when he exposed himself as a witch. There wasn't much else that could shock someone, even an intuitive bunny rabbit that somehow knew about their owner's eating habits. "I mean, in my dream you were making me breakfast for a while, so maybe she picked up on that. Are you making dinner?" 

A bubbling nod caused Harry's curls to flop over his forehead. "Mhm," he hummed, "I've got some soup going, and I made y'some tea that's supposed to help with your tummy, if y'wanted to try it." 

Harry's pride only expanded as he watched her perk up at the mention of tonight's menu. "What kind of tea is it?" 

Delivering one last squeeze to the mid of her thigh, he stood to the full of his height between her legs with a broad smile on his face. "It was something m'sister used to make when she wasn't feeling well during her Moon Cycle," he explained to her as he moved to the kitchen, her special cow printed mug warming his hands as he took it to her. 

The tea shimmered in his hold, the teabag having sunk to the bottom of the mixture leaving the starry liquid to shine under the waning sunlight. (Y/N) awed when she saw the glimmering light coming from her mug, her careful fingers wrapping around the ceramic, grazing over Harry's hand as he passed it off. 

"How did you get stars in here?" she asked, voice hushed as if afraid to disturb the vision in her cup. 

"There's this kind of cherry that only grows under starlight, and whenever it's used like this, stars spill right out of it. I thought y'would like it," he told her, sitting beside her on the edge of his bed as he awaited her reaction to the first sip. 

With the mug nestled in her hands, (Y/N) carefully brought it to her mouth for a taste, eyes brightening as soon as the first splash hit her tongue. Two more large gulps later, a broad grin covered Harry's features. She liked it. 

"Harry," she bubbled, starlight glimmering on the pillow of her bottom lip before her tongue peeked out to swipe it away, "this is so good! Try some!" 

Harry could have melted away as he watched her offer him her mug, the tea that he has specially crafted to aid her cramps swirling in the cup. "I've got m'own waiting over there, but thank you, sunshine. I want y'to drink the whole thing before we have dinner, alright?" His words came out as a clear direction as he left her to finished her mug on his bed, his soup and bundled herbs calling to him before they burned. "M'book says two servings should cure you of your cramps until the end of the Moon Cycle." 

At the mention of dinner, Harry saw (Y/N)'s features brighten further. It was nice seeing her come back to herself after the scare she gave him. "What soup are you making?" 

Her eyes followed him into the kitchen, gaze dropping to his hands as he worked on the sage leaves and sprigs of thyme he was working into the soup. "Your favorite," he told her with a smile over his shoulder. 

She practically bounced on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking. "The rice one? With the peas and everything? 

"That's the one," he told her, dropping the herbs and various seasonings he had portioned out into the simmering pot. 

"Oh, Harry," she crooned, the pout he was sure she had on her face evident in her voice, "You didn't have to do all this." 

Harry was quick to shoo off her remark with a wave of his hand, his attention directed on the stirring of the soup. "I don't have to do anything, sunshine, but I want to do this for you. Tears me up inside to see y'so upset and in pain over something that shouldn't be a punishment. I jus' want to make y'happier, love, that's all 'm trying to do." 

When he didn't hear any response for a moment, a pinch quirked Harry's brows. He hoped he hadn't made her upset; if she really didn't want him to do all of this for her, she only needed to tell him and he'd back off. Looking over his shoulder, he ended up finding her with a pair of watery eyes and a pout of her lips. 

"I love you," she peeped out between her puffed lips, the sentiment small as it hung in the air between them. 

"Sunshine," Harry sighed, abandoning his soup in favorite of catering to his flame, "C'mere." He beckoned to her with arms opened wide as he rounded the kitchen counter. (Y/N) was quick to move into his arms, her own looping around his middle with her face tucked against his chest. 

Burying his nose into her hair, Harry carefully ran his hands in a circuit along her back, soothing circles burrowing under her skin and relaxing her system. He cradled her against his chest as he cooed to her, reciprocating her sentiment of love and calming her from the tears that threatened to lead over her waterline. Her breathing came in watery puffs against his chest, the warm air leaking through his top and caressing his skin. He paid close attention to the pacing of her exhales, ensuring that she was feeling less on edge by the time he pulled back from her. Maybe, he would have to revisit the ritual he saw earlier for mood swings. 

"Feeling a little teary today, too?" he asked her, voice a quiet croon between just the two of them. 

"Yeah, I guess so," (Y/N) breathed out a laugh against his chest, "Its not usually this bad though. You're just being too sweet, it caught me off guard." 

A gentle kiss was pressed to the top of her head, the strands of her hair brushing against his nose and tickling his cheeks. "I didn't mean to make y'cry, sunshine—jus' love y'so much, that's all." 

"I know," she sighed. Her arms around his middle tightened as she spoke the words that without fail made him feel like he was joining the moon and becoming a star with only the purpose of floating through the sky and shining bright for all to see: "I love you, too, Harry. Best thing that ever happened to me." 

A smile bloomed across his features as he buried his face in her hair. His eyes fluttered to a contented close as he took in the moment, his heart feeling complete with his lover right in his arms and the best thing she could ever say to him echoing in his ears. "You're gonna make me cry now, if you're not careful. Not gonna be able to finish making dinner when y'get me teary like this, you know that."

That got (Y/N)'s attention as she pulled back from Harry's chest just enough to look up at him. "But, I'm still hungry," she pouted, a teasing glint sparking across her now dry eyes. 

"I know," he smiled down at her, ducking his head to nudge his nose against hers in a puppy's kiss, "That's why you've gotta be gentle with me. Can't really take care of y'when 'm all weepy cause you're being sweet on me." 

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh that transformed her features, softened every curve and adding creases to her eyes and lines around her mouth. Her eyes were dreamy and far away as she looked up at him. "Fine," she relented on a sigh, "Kiss before you go back to work?" 

Harry didn't even try to stand up against the pucker of her lips, immediately stretching his neck and pressing his mouth to hers in a heart-mending kiss. Though the contact was nothing more than an innocent press, Harry still felt his heart thump, urging itself to runaway as he pulled back. 

With a final nudge from (Y/N) pushing him towards the kitchen and the soup that was simmering away on the stove, it was with a smile quirking the corners of his lips and a heart trying to lift up to the clouds that he finished up the nights meal. Herbs and spices were added to the mixture, fragrancing the air with notes of sage and warm thyme. By the time he had developed the flavor he was looking for, he couldn't dole out the servings fast enough as he felt (Y/N)'s eyes on his back. 

Chunks of a crusty baguette he had hidden away in his bread box were portioned out for both bowls, (Y/N) given the bigger serving as he carefully moved to sit beside her on his bed. His minimalist cottage allowed for the pair of them to cozy up on his bed with the nest of his duvet fluffed around them, a dining table not necessary in Harry's mind when he could be close to (Y/N) like this instead. 

With her legs crossed underneath her, (Y/N) settled the warm bowl in her lap, peas and potato chunks floating around in the creamy soup, bright spots of green herbs ribboning through the mixture. Harry waited for her opinion on the soup first, watching her take her first bite while he absently flicked his hand to summon his helping of tea (that he was going to end up giving to (Y/N) as it seemed she had already finished her first mug). 

With a spoonful loaded with the wild rice and bright vegetables, (Y/N) took a careful bite. The smile that brightened her face, brows raised and eyes wide made Harry's chest puff with pride. 

"This is even better than last time, H," she beamed, spooning out another bite though her attention was pinned to him, "Did you do anything different?" 

Harry shook is head, curls flopping over his forehead at the motion. "No, jus' tried extra hard to make it good for you. Feeling any better with the tea and everything?" 

An excited nod of (Y/N)'s head sent her own hair a flutter, strands having escaped the twist she had put it in. Swallowing down her bite of dinner, she flicked her eyes to the extra mug of tea Harry had in his hand. Without thinking, he offered it to her with a silent question, urging her to wrap her fingers around the handle and take a sip. 

"I still feel a little icky," she said, throat bobbing as she swallowed down her seeing of starlight, "But way better than yesterday. Thank you for helping me." 

(Y/N) hadn't been paying attention as she brought another spoonful of soup to her mouth, going a bit haywire with a bump to her lip and causing a dribble of the mixture to land on the point of her chin and smear over the side of her mouth. Harry breathed out a laugh, bringing his hand up to her chin before swiping away the mess with the pad off is thumb. 

"That's what 'm here for, sunshine," he cemented through his smile, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick off the mess he had cleaned for her. 

Her cheeks went warm as she watched him, aura matching with a cozy yellow and rosy pink that was his favorite combination to see haloing her form. 

—————

"Sorry I'm not being any fun tonight, I'm just still so tired." 

Harry watched with adoration swimming in his gaze as (Y/N) yawned before snuggling deeper under the covers stretched over his bed. Two empty mugs with residual stardust lingering in the bottom sat in his sink, and only a single helping left of the wild rice soup was stowed away and chilling in the refrigerator. (Y/N) had been effectively wined and dined, her system warmed and loosened enough that it had taken very little convincing on Harry's part to suggest that they head to bed early that night. Both Bonnie and Dandelion had embarked on their own adventures halfway through dinner, bored with watching their parents give each other lovey eyes and coo to one another. They would be back, he was sure, they couldn't stand to be too far from (Y/N) when she visited overnight. 

"Don't be sorry, Dovie," he told her climbing into bed beside her, "I don't blame you. Healing takes a lot out of you, and 'm sure it's not easy during your Moon Cycle." 

(Y/N) answered in a quiet sigh as Harry wrapped his arms around her. Her own arms were bundled between them, fingertips just barely brushing along the line of his collarbone. Just holding her, Harry could feel a thread of tenseness that had leaked back into her system, the tea and soup having done enough to relax her muscles, but nothing could completely erase the discomfort that came with feeling parts of your insides leave your body in a not so pleasant process. 

With a wave of his fingers behind her shoulder, Harry queued his record player up, a Bread record spinning on the turntable. Soft notes of Baby I'm-A Want You filtered through the cottage, blending with the gentle sound of the swaying breeze that blew just outside. Using the cover of the song to muffle the spell he recited over (Y/N)'s head, Harry enchanted his hands with the charm of a healing touch. A warmth touched at his palms, spreading through to his fingers until there was a level of heat that simmered under his skin. It was a touch uncomfortable for him, a sensation he wasn't used to, but was more than willing to go through if it was going to help (Y/N) finally be pulled from the turmoil her body was putting her through. 

The reaction was almost immediate as he pressed his hands to the expanse of her back. Muscles shifted and liquified, the arch and ache of her bones softened, and the stiff set of her body curled and sunk into the mattress and his arms. 

"Its like you're a heating pad or something. Already feeling so much better now that you're holding me." (Y/N) mumbled words were smeared against the slope of his throat, a broad smile touching at his lips. 

Sure, he could explain to her that he had actually cast a healing spell on his hands, tell her that it wasn't anything more than a clever charm that would wear off through the night—or, he could keep her thinking that his touch by itself was healing her, his presence just the antidote she needed. Maybe it was a bit selfish to go with the second option, but not harmful at all, Harry decided with a quiet smile.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he continued his circuit over her back, occasionally playing with the ends of her stray hairs and drawing affectionate shapes across the planes of her back. Despite the short nap he had taken that afternoon, feeling her so close to him brought out a serenity that was hard to ignore, even when he hadn't started out the cuddle session tired at all. 

"What song is this?" (Y/N) murmured, her words slurred and half asleep, just as they usually were when she needed that final shove of his calming voice to lull her to her dreams. And she knew nothing got him talking like music did. 

"'S this song by Bread—" 

"Bread?" 

Harry breathed out a laugh that ruffled the hair on the crown of her head. God, he loved her. No one could make him laugh like she did. 

"I know, 's a weird one, isn't it? But, this album came out in '71, I think, and..."

—————

its been so long since I posted something for citrine so im so excited for everyone to revisit their story!!! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes!! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Part 9 8 (sorry, I can't count) - Finally meeting mama (who is basically lifted from AU ACOSF because everybody loved her)

‘I’m so nervous. I think I might vomit.’

Nesta had packed her belongings. Unpacked. Re-packed. Tipped it all out again. Panicked. Threw herself face first onto the bed and refused to move with all of her clothes strewn around the bed. Then Azriel had flopped down beside her and rested his head on her shoulder blades until they’d both fallen asleep.

Eventually, she had managed to pack once more, choosing simple dresses that she was comfortable in rather than the ones she had originally packed. They were pretty, dainty things to impress that Elain might wear. She looked lovely in them, but they weren’t her. They’d had her tugging at the sleeves and smoothing the flowing skirts when she had tried them on. Nesta had to be herself, no matter how jagged and thorny that was. Nesta had given herself a stern talking to in the mirror of the bathroom that Azriel was with her for who she was.

In Velaris that morning, she had found a florist that kept flowers alive in the winter through her magic and selected a large bouquet of flowers for Azriel’s mother. The florist had bundled them with hessian. It was the first time in a long time that Nesta wished Elain was there. Nesta could recognise the flowers from listening to her sister prattle on about flowers: sunflowers interspersed with red roses and bunches of white asters. The whole collection was pretty and colourful, a welcome sight in winter. However, Nesta worried that the flowers might have a hidden meaning as some flowers did – what if these were flowers for mourning in Illyria?

She’d even found a baker’s and purchased a tray of sticky pastries despite Azriel proclaiming it was unnecessary, that his mother would simply be happy with their arrival. Then she panicked whether his mother might think Nesta didn’t trust her cooking or was flaunting her money.

Never before had Nesta fretted so much over such tiny details. Everything had to be perfect – she had to be perfect.

They stood in the living room, readying themselves to winnow to Illyria. Azriel did not understand mortal customs; did not know that bringing a female to meet his mother had Nesta’s heart pounding so painfully she thought it was cracking her ribs. A male’s mother was always considered a formidable opponent. If Nesta was not worthy of her son, there would be no going back. Her own mother and grandmother had trained her meticulously for this moment. There wasn’t a lord or duke in the mortal lands that Nesta hadn’t learnt the name of; she’d studied family crests, lineage, histories. And none of it mattered here. All of the lessons that she had undertaken in mathematics, literature and music had all been wasted.

Azriel did not sweep away her worries or tell her they had no foundation. It wouldn’t have helped. He’d said plenty of times that his mother would like her, but those feelings still had taken root. They’d burrowed down deep, anchoring her with doubts. Nobody had ever taken to Nesta. Nobody would ever want her to be the female their son brought home.

‘In ten minutes, you will be wondering why you ever let yourself worry over this.’ Azriel pressed a kiss to her brow, holding her face between his warm hands. ‘She will love you as I love you.’

Whether he meant to say it or not, Nesta didn’t know.

They were suddenly sucked away by shadows, pulling them through the coldest spots of darkness.

Colour was in his tan cheeks when they emerged from a sphere of swirling, sable shadows.

A pretty house of cream stone had been built in the foothills of a tall mountain range. Their peaks were capped with snow and the heavy clouds swirling about them suggested another snowfall was likely.

Around the front doors was a lattice with vines snaking through it. Nesta recognised it as honeysuckle that would bloom in the warmer months. The thatched roof was stuffed like a swollen pillow and Nesta was glad to see smoke billowing from the chimney. The air was much colder here, likely from the mountains or they were far more to the north than she had been before. Perhaps both.

At her shiver, Azriel led them on through the winding path flanked by bare trees and bushes that would come alive in fairer weather. Nesta clutched the bouquet of flowers to her body as if it were a shield. The arm that stayed around her shoulders was sturdy, a comforting weight to stop her worries from tugging her into despair.

‘Az?’

A voice called out to them as they removed their snowy shoes on the covered porch. Azriel had bent down and taken off Nesta’s for her. She was too nervous to manage it otherwise. Her hands trembled causing a couple of petals to drift to the wooden floor.

They heard the shuffle of steps across the floorboards. Nesta spied slippers then managed to raise her head. A female turned the corner, eyes widening in surprise when she realised that her son had brought a guest home.

She was as tall as Nesta. Glossy, black hair had been drawn into a braid that fell to her waist. Her black dress was rolled up at the sleeves and a flour-dusted apron had been tied around her narrow waist. Unlike Azriel, her eyes were a honey brown that seemed to shine as she smiled. And she was far younger than Nesta was expecting.

‘You must have smelt that I’d started dinner,’ she said.

‘This is Nesta,’ Azriel said, giving her a small, encouraging push into the hallway. ‘My mother, Rovena.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Nesta replied. Her body was rigid. She didn’t know what to do with her hands as they clutched the bouquet. The attempt at a smile was likely more of a grimace.

His mother smiled again, the warmth running over Nesta like the first day of spring after a long winter. Gently, she moved the bouquet to the side to bring Nesta into an embrace. It was not a hurried thing. A hand splayed out across Nesta’s back, rubbing in a circle then Rovena stepped back slightly to examine Nesta’s face. For once, she did not feel scrutinised or the need to build a defence. His mother had seen who she was and that was enough.

There was no difference in the way she embraced her son either. She swept him into the same tight hug, rubbing his back above his wings. Goodness seemed to seep from her, gentle and comforting.

‘I’m so glad you’re both here,’ she said finally, appraising them once more as if they hadn't just turned up unannounced.

Azriel moved slightly to put an arm around Nesta. His mother watched, her smile growing brighter.

‘Oh! Sorry,’ Nesta spluttered. ‘These are for you. And these.’

Rovena accepted the flowers with a shocked expression - then a pleased one at the box of pastries. ‘You didn’t need to do this.’

‘I told her that about six times,’ Azriel said, grinning slightly.

It almost felt sinful to be sharing a bed in his mother’s house, but Azriel had snorted when Nesta had voiced her concerns. He was half a millennium old, she supposed. She hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him that in the mortal lands, they ought to be married to be behaving this way. However, being the first – and only – female that he had ever introduced to his mother made Nesta’s heart flutter. Every time she recalled that fact, butterflies tickled her stomach.

The bedroom was tidy with few of his belongings within. The walls had been painted a cornflower blue with a thick, sheepskin rug near the empty hearth. Azriel admitted that he only ever stayed at Rosehall around Solstice, but did visit during the year.

His admission about his father had lingered in Nesta’s mind. His mother had a scar running from her forehead across her eyebrow and then her cheek, narrowly missing her eye. Her wings had been mottled with scars. She wondered if he had inflicted them. If she hadn't known, Nesta would never have put her as Azriel’s mother; she seemed closer to a sister in age.

‘How old is she?’

He stilled from unpacking their belongings in the oak wardrobe for a moment. Nesta knew little about her; only that she had been a seamstress and once known Rhysand’s mother. Feyre had said once that he was the bastard child of a camp lord. From his own words, she knew that Azriel had only ever had mere minutes with his mother each week before being cast out to Windhaven, unable to fly.

‘She was seventeen when she had me,’ he said, voice low.

Rovena had remained in the kitchen, kneading bread for dinner, chirping happily that her son and Nesta were staying to a fat, grey cat that sat on the windowsill while they had settled themselves in upstairs.

‘Not by choice.’

There was nothing Nesta could say to soothe that hurt. Life for females was difficult – all females. Azriel had not had a choice in his conception either. And he couldn’t be blamed for it.

She clutched his hand, squeezing it once. Again, she repeated, ‘You are not your father.’

He shook the thought away. ‘Are you settled now? If you’re not comfortable, we can leave.’

There was not a chance that Nesta was leaving now. She’d climbed to the peak of her worries so could finally enjoy the view from the top. They were at their beginning – her and Azriel. There was no turning back now.

Their dinner was enjoyable. As Azriel had predicted, Nesta did not know why she worried. The flowers had been put into a vase in the centre of the table, but they clustered at one end together eating with an informality that she adored. Her male's manners had shined; Azriel tucked both her and his mother into the table, serving them before himself. There was already an ease amongst the three of them as if Rovena’s presence settled them both.

The home was a home. Nesta couldn’t explain it any other way. Objects hadn’t been put away – there was a basket of wool at the other end of the table with knitting needles poking from it, dishes from cooking were in the sink. A candle had dribbled wax down its metal holder on the shelf behind them. Two more cats had arrived, swirling beneath the table to rub against their legs as if they were Azriel’s shadows.  

Rovena spoke gently, her voice never loud, sharing stories of Azriel and of Illyria that made them laugh then she asked Nesta about her life or her son about his. If Rovena knew who Nesta was – the high lady’s sister and Cauldron Made – she never brought up the topic. The conversation swirled easily and time dribbled away. Even Azriel had loosened. The tension that his body seemed to carry melted away in his mother’s presence. Each time that her brown eyes flickered to her son, Nesta didn’t see the revulsion or wariness that Azriel had prepared her for; no, Rovena looked at her son with pride and love and joy. If only he could see it. He seemed unable to look at his mother for more than a few moments before he turned his face away or a shadow came up to obscure him.

Only once they broke into the box of sweet pastries over a cup of tea for dessert, did she mention their relationship. Rovena clasped her hands together, resting her chin on top.

‘Well, you made me wait five hundred years before you brought a female to meet your mother – but Nesta was worth the wait.’

Azriel tucked himself close to Nesta at the table, kissing her on the lips in front of his mother so that Nesta’s cheeks reddened with shock at his boldness.

'She was.’

‘May you have a lifetime of happiness.’

There were baskets hanging from the ceiling near the window where reedy plants hung out of like a sailor in a hammock. Row upon row of spices were gathered in glass jars by the stove. One of the cats, a wiry ginger thing had sprawled out across the slanted rug by the fire. It was a home that Nesta had never known. Not extravagant, not sterile, but filled with warmth and love. She wasn’t sure if she’d want to leave by the end of it.

***

The two females had bundled up beside each other on the couch. Azriel had been forgotten. He remained at the kitchen table, catching up on reports from spies posted around the Continent, combing through every detail like searching grains of sand for any whisper of Koschei or Briallyn. He’d become militant with this mission. Any threat to Nesta needed to be eliminated swiftly before it could grow.  

Occasionally, he rocked back in his chair to peer into the living room. His mother had lifted Nesta’s feet up and tucked them on the couch with a blanket so she felt more at home and they sat close to each other talking quietly. Elta had already made a home on Nesta’s lap; the black cat had curled its tail beneath its chin and was likely purring as Nesta’s hands moved across her fur. Whatever topic his mother had engrossed them in, Nesta looked entirely at ease. That rare smile had made an appearance, crinkling the corner of her eyes, at whatever his mother had said.  

Tonight, they could still have their bliss. Their little piece of paradise would be safe for one more night then all hell would break loose tomorrow.

Azriel had already set the pieces into position. Cassian would meet him on the outskirts of Windhaven, far away from any civilians in the morning. He’d agreed to a meeting there, naively not even asking why Azriel would summon him. Likely because this would never have crossed his mind. That for months, Azriel had been bedding Nesta, falling more in love with her each day.

He’d asked the same of Rhys, asking him to arrive earlier so that he could inform him to stay well away but be ready to spring into action the moment the truth hit.

Azriel wasn’t sure what Cassian would do. But he had to tell him one on one, away from everybody else. He owed it to him. Not that Nesta was his or anything to do with him. In his heart, Azriel knew Rhys would need to be near for whatever eruption came from either of them. Rhys would need to intervene. If anything was said about Nesta, Azriel’s restraint would snap. And with Rhys’ power, he’d be able to pass on the warning to Feyre and Mor.

There were two advantages at least: the first was that Cassian couldn’t winnow so he’d only be able to leave Windhaven by foot or by wings; the second was that Nesta was in Rosehall, safe. There was no place safer.

He spent that night with Nesta curled up in his arms running through every possible outcome. The best would be for his brother to clap him on the back and say he was happy for them; that didn’t seem likely. A brawl would happen. What Cassian and Nesta had shared during the war seemed to give his brother a belief that there was a future for them. Maybe there had been once. Maybe if he’d been better to her, made her a priority or wanted to know Nesta rather than trying to change her into the female he wanted her to be. Cassian would see it as a betrayal. His brother felt too much, wore it too openly. Azriel just hoped he was strong enough to weather his brother’s hurt.

Nesta groaned softly, fighting her eyes open in the dark room. ‘You’re not sleeping.’

‘Sorry.’

She burrowed into him, hands reaching around his body. ‘Did you mean what you said in my home?’

Yes. And he wished he hadn’t panicked and winnowed them to his mother’s front door without another word. Her eyes had widened at his admission. Her mouth had fallen open. Those words had never passed his lips before. To anybody. Then again, no female had ever been introduced to his mother or seen the ruin that was inside of him and not fled.

‘I only tell you the truth.’

‘In that we’re equals,’ she said pressing a kiss to his scarred hand.

The dawn brought churning, grey clouds and flurries of hail that lashed the skin. Nesta had been unable to eat a bite of the food his mother had made at breakfast, her face as bleached of colour as the landscape. Azriel hadn’t eaten either.

He’d took his mother by the elbow to the living room, speaking in rapid Illyrian about what he was going to do even if he hated to speak his native tongue. The story of the Cauldron-Cursed Archeron and the Lord of Bloodshed facing death at the hands of the King had gained wings even in Illyria. Of course, she had known who Nesta Archeron was and had been subtle enough not to act surprised that she had arrived as his girl rather than Cassian’s.

‘A rift has already grown between us. Today, I fear it will become an abyss.’

His mother had stroked a hand down his face, pursing her lips. ‘Remember what you have to gain, not what you could lose. I’ve never seen you so content. Happy. My boy.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll keep Nesta occupied today.’

Nesta had tried to talk him out of it, begged him not to go and they could remain as a secret a little longer. He was tired of hiding her, tired of keeping secrets from his family. He was being torn in two over it. If they loved him then they would be happy for them just as his mother was.

Obliging Nesta, Azriel took no weapons, not even Truth-Teller. He wasn’t going there to fight. But if it came to it, he would.

@theleafpile @wannawriteyouabook @mis-lil-red

[lttommy]

where you stand now // what you aspire to // what is standing in your way

                                          ** a tarot reading by @asterrology && a collection of drabbles

five of cups. { loss, grief, sadness, mourning. }

tommy’s at a loss. of course he’s supportive of his cousin, but roman’s departure is something like an abandonment — as soon as they’d started to repair their relationship, deepen it, his only family is an entire nation away again, and tommy’s left, with roman’s friends, roman’s roommate, roman’s keys. so tommy seeks solace in the only thing that was more his; aster. he turns up with an expression like a kicked puppy and food from that cart they stopped at last time they got high together, asking aster to break out her mom’s cards. because it’s a family matter, he says, and it’s two of aster’s favorite things: how could she say no?  the reading seems positive enough. it’s not like it could solve anything, anyway; he’s still a ball of stress, but hearing aster tell him it’s positive helps the most. they spend the rest of the evening watching the show tommy had interrupted aster watching, tommy sitting on the floor in front of her, aster rubbing his neck or playing with his hair while he leans temple against knee.  it’s nice. by the season finale, he’s entirely forgotten what the reading predicted. 

three of wands. { expansion, growth, momentum. }

aster helps him unbox his new mattress. he dipped into money set back to get a nice one, with a box spring and frame and everything. it’s all that’s in the room the first time aster comes over, aside from his guitars leaning against the corner, and, of course, there’s a whole ritual that comes along with it. she asks his favorite place, and after rolling her eyes when he answers wherever you are, she sets up a bowl and candle by his floor-studio to burn as a little make-shift altar, “blessing the room.”  he reveals his second splurge: paints and brushes, and a long scroll of paper. tommy explains; he can’t afford decorations, so he’ll have their friends make them. boom, decoration and memory, all at once. obviously, aster’s up first. tommy can’t paint for shit, and gives up on it to start scribbling song lyrics, in his too-fast, slanted font, all around the edges, while he prattles on about the bands they come from, the impact they made on the scene. he’s not sure if aster’s a really good listener, humoring him, or fully focused on the painting she’s working on, but he talks himself near-hoarse.  afterwards, he thumb-tacks the long sheet above his bed and says they should paint a night sky, next, so his ceiling can match hers, with the glow-in-the-dark stars they hung. it’s a date.

judgement, inverted. { lack of self-awareness, failure to learn lessons. } 

he and aster have never had what one might call “the best communication.” tommy talks about things too late, avoids subjects, tries to “spare aster” from things like the world’s most useless white knight. they’re doomed, it seems, to only ‘talk’ when liquor influences it; about crushes, or about...this.  tommy’s biased, but this silence sucks even harder than the rest. the resting of robin onto couch is a little more inelegant than he’s proud of, but he fluffs the pillows for elevation of the head and provides ice, so he thinks he’s doing okay generally, in terms of not projecting his emotions. aster had bid murphy the sweetest goodbye, and he’d gotten daggers and silence all the way upstairs — he thinks, at least the man is spared from some hypothetical screaming match. he’s sure an oncoming stress headache is the only reason aster accepts his offer of water and painkillers, but he’s glad she accepts them nonetheless. tommy tends to choose the floor when he’s at aster’s; there’s just something about looking up to her. tonight’s no different. he’s almost resolved to sleep on the hardwood when aster opens her bedroom door and more or less hauls him up from the doorjamb and inside with her — tommy has the thought again, i was her boyfriend, when he catches those stickers’ sickly green glow. the way he strokes fingers through hair is the same way he kissed cheek; like a bribe, a silent beg for it to not be the last.  his voice fails him halfway when he says, “i don’t want to be ‘nothing now.’”  but it’d always gone a little weak around aster; he’s not surprised it gives out now either.  “i don’t know what else to say.” 

[asters-garden]

The revamped Seven Deadly Sins! pride: a mother who never shares her recipes with her family because of how protective she is of them as they gain her many a praise

Lust: an asexual artist who's paintings are lust for life with artwork of beautiful landscapes and still lives

Gluttony: a dog that always begs for more and more treats and bites you if you withhold them

Sloth: your cubicle neighbor who makes rubber band balls all day and takes 15 smoke breaks a day even though you've never even seen him near a pack

Envy: a middle school girl who does petty lip gloss theft

Greed: a twitch streamer obsessed with having more and more subscriptions, they hide as a do nothing soft-core streamer

Wrath: Wrath hides as a shitty ex bf who always yelled at others when playing online multi-player games

so sick of stereotypical 7 deadly sins character designs i want lust to be a weirdo shut-in with 47 different fetishes who buys feet pics, not a sexy man and/or woman in a corset.

[asters-garden]

Are there any other transgender or GNC people in the Tracht scene?

I am a big fan of Tracht since my family is German but because of the heavy gender divide between clothing options I find it hard to choose something that feels true and accurate to my gender presentation.

Full dirndl is too femme but lederhosen don’t really come in sizes that fit me. I love the femininity of a lace shirt and structured vest as well as the masculinity of the lederhosen and the metal and bone accessories.

But, expectantly, no one really caters to GNC Tracht styles- I’d love to hear from other trans people who also enjoy Tracht and what ideas y’all have

[praline-elegy]

I suddenly want to write The Little Mermaid but make it about Thomas Leventis and navigate a tale about a twin who traded his voice for legs while Aster is exasperated by his brother’s romantic endeavors 😂

But also because they’re twins they have telepathy so while Thomas can’t talk to his “Prince Charming” he can bemoan his awful flirting attempts to his brother with his mind 😆😅

[gardenofgods-a]

Rayquaza would always remember the first time he saw her. She was young, no older than 10, but she was already wrangling dragons three times her size. One of her front teeth was knocked out after she got headbutt by a particularly rowdy Bagon, but she wore her grin with pride. It was rare to see her without Zinnia, who was only a few years younger. He recalled Zinnia’s grandmother had taken care of both. He recalled hearing that Aster’s parents had died in an unfortunate accident. He recalled feeling a tightness in his chest, knowing she was left without guidance at such a young age.

When she was 13, her training began. Becoming Rayquaza’s Lorekeeper wasn’t an easy feat, but she’d taken it in stride. The harsh trials she underwent were met with tenacity. He could see she was trying, and trying her absolute best. Her time spent journeying around Hoenn, last for years.

And finally, on the eve of her 16th birthday, Aster had returned. The draconids held a celebration, or as grand of one as they could with their dwindling numbers. Rayquaza had spent time with her then, as she prattled on and on about her journey, the difficulties she faced and overcame. She was to be his Lorekeeper, his bonded, yet he knew very little about her from what he had seen.

He learned her favorite color was purple, like the flowers she’d gotten her name from. He learned she really, really loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Her favorite pokemon was Hydreigon.

She was surprised when she learned that he didn’t have a birthday, finding it sad that he was never able to celebrate. Aster had picked out a birthday for him. April 12th. It wasn’t of any significance at all, she had simply said he seemed like he’d be born in April. 

The following day, she would become his Lorekeeper and his bonded. Their hearts linked as one. She was nervous during the ceremony, he had noted. Professional settings didn’t seem to be her forte.

He’d soon take off with her after that, flying high, high above the Hoenn region. Aster was the youngest Lorekeeper he’d ever had. Rayquaza felt as if he had an innate responsibility to look after her, like a parent would. To teach her, and to guide her, and so he did.

They spent nearly a decade together until they came for him. The people who would kill his Lorekeeper as she tried to protect him.

He remembered it all. But he didn’t want to.

There was ice, ice covering his obsidian scales, and the area they were in. He was cold. Moving was more difficult. Half of Aster’s team had been wiped out, speared through their vitals with similar ice.

All she needed to do was make the wish. The one, simple wish she was taught during her days of training. The wish that would let him mega evolve and wipe everything away. But she didn’t.

And she, too, would be speared the same as her pokemon were.

Following the gruesome sight, there was only brutality. Such a cruel sight was unbecoming of the dragon, but his rage was too great. He’d strike them all down with the ferocity of god himself.

Ice still covered him, even when he went into his human form. And, oh god, the blood. There was so much, despite her being so, so small. Her eyes stared ahead endlessly, like she was gazing at something beyond his reach.

He screamed. He screamed, and he screamed, and he screamed. The heavens above shook with his wails. In that moment, he would have given anything to have her back. To him, she was more than his Lorekeeper. He saw her as a daughter, only for it all to be snatched away from him in the end.

Because he failed her.

[blackswamp]

Perched aloft on the rigging, Serena's eyes struggle to differentiate between reflective water and the vast asterism overhead. Devoted digits uncoil from the threaded rope to pat a place beside her, encouraging her crew mate to join her in being suspended amongst prattling stars— to get just about as close as they ever could less they take to the wind and their folly, “Do you think that the heavens actually foretell what is to come or that folks like you overhear what they keep to themselves?”.

“ I like to think it could be either way. “ Her voice was quiet, as though she was scared raising it  would break the peace of the calm lull of the sea and the twinkling lights above them. Hands twist with the ropes, shuffling over enough to take the offered seat next to her crewmate. “ They oversee everything; all the history the world has to offer, the present, as well as what lies beyond our days. “ Painted lips quirk up as crimson eyes trace the hidden lines connecting the lights. 

“ There are thousands upon thousands of miles and lightyears between us and them. Who’s to say they can’t already know what’s to happen to us? “ She offered, gaze shifting over to the other. “ Some people are just lucky enough to catch the little hints they like to give us. That’s all. “

[praline-elegy]

✿ Fence posts ✿

Feel free to leave comments and asks!

Drabbles:

You can find these under #praline writes or #praline drabbles.

A small crumb of a Fence fic I’m working on

Another Fence Drabble

My first Eugesse?

Prattles:

Sungchul & Nicholas

Seiji speaking Japanese

Hockey au

Eton mess

Seiji/Nicholas emoji ship combo

Stardew Valley au

Headcanons:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

Asks:

You can find these under #praline answers.

do you think nicholas has any allergies?

fence headcanons

nicholas & seiji favorite possession headcanon

Scott Langtree/Thomas Leventis thoughts

ask game, various characters

Aster & Thomas soft spot headcanons

Nicholas ask game questions

Scott & Thomas headcanons

[praline-elegy]

Fence headcanons? (Any of the schools)

I have a lot of Fence headcanons on my blog! You can check out my pinned post here :)

Here’s a few of my favorite headcanons from those previous posts:

- Seiji has a dad sneeze.

- Seiji is a dog person.

- Nicholas likes to sit on the floor, otherwise he sits in funky positions on chairs. Seiji doesn’t understand why Nicholas would rather do his homework on the floor when there is a perfectly good desk in their dorm room.

- Seiji secretly enjoys Nicholas’ endless prattling. It reminds him of his mom talking the ear off of his dad, but his dad would always fondly listen. Seiji is starting to understand why.

- Nicholas has quiet footsteps. His fencing footwork might need some improvement, but outside of the piste he has very light and quiet steps. It startles Seiji sometimes how Nicholas can appear out of nowhere.

Here’s a few new headcanons that came to me recently:

- Nicholas has a mole on the back of his neck (And maybe somewhere on his back too? I don’t believe Seiji is the only one out there with a mole on his body. A flat mole though, so Nicholas wouldn’t have been aware of it, at least tactically).

- Seiji speaks fluent Japanese (not a groundbreaking headcanon, but I still really like it. I think Nicholas likes Seiji’s voice in Japanese, too 🤭).

- Scott (Langtree) used to live in Australia, and because of that has become the designated bug-kiIIer at Halverton. He’s unfazed when a cricket or spider makes its way into the salle.

- Sungchul (Park) has two older sisters. He’s a bit of a loner though, and doesn’t really like it when they smother him with attention.

- Jesse is prone to paper cuts, and as a byproduct of that, has quite an extensive bandage collection 🩹🩹

- Thomas (Leventis, sunshine twin) likes to bake as a hobby. However, pie is the one thing he’s been unable to master (Pie crust is just so hard to get right! But that’s fine, he’d rather bake muffins, bars, or cookies over pie any day) 🧁🧁🧁

- Aster (Leventis, grumpy twin) is a hardcore Stardew Valley fan. His brother even gifted him a straw hat for his birthday ✨👒✨

- Nate (Spencer) likes bird watching 🦆🦜🦉

Please interact or send more asks, I’d love to talk about my headcanons 😭🤲