#button varian

[fluff-a-nutter]

Tickletober Prompt: Cuddle

((Ler!Varian & lee!gn reader. Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic. You decide. SFW only))

You curled up against Varian’s side resting your head on his shoulder. You had your favorite baggy sweater on and you were sipping on freshly made hot cocoa made by the alchemist. While you were doing this, you had a book open in your lap reading. Varian noticed how interested you were in the book and saw a perfect opportunity. Slowly, minutely, his arm, which had previously been wrapped around your shoulders, made its way down so he could slip his fingers beneath the hem of your sweater.

Letting out a startled squeal, you leapt away from Varian and flashed him a pout.

“Vari! Don’t do that! Your hands are cold!” You said, blushing a bit. The boy blinked at you innocently.

“What? I wasn’t doing anything, (y/n).” He said, feigning his innocence. You weren’t buying it.

“Varian! You know I’m tick- ti- urgh! You know what I mean!” You retorted unable to say the word. Varian flashed you a Cheshire Cat grin.

“You’re what, (n/n)? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.” He said pulling you back into a cuddle. You wriggled, trying to escape.

“Varian! Don’t you da- DARE!” The last word that came out of your mouth came as a shout because the sneaky little shit had slipped both hands under the sweater and was starting to mercilessly spider along your sides.

“Ooooh that’s right! I remember now. You’re ticklish, aren’t you giggle-bug.” He teased making you flush scarlet.

“Sh-shuhuht uhuhuhp!” You giggled, twisting this way and that, but it was futile. As long as Varian had his hands under your sweater, you were as good as trapped. Varian snickered and leaned over to whisper into your ear, so you’d scrunch up your neck.

“Oh please. Don’t act like you hate it. I know you love this.” He cooed, now digging into your tummy and hips sending you into fits of squeals.

“Gohohoho tohoho h-hehehell!” You cackled, kicking ferociously to no avail. You heard Varian gasp in fake offense and it was at that moment, you realized you were screwed.

“Ohoho now you’re gonna get it, (y/n). No one talks that way to me and gets away with it!” You shrieked when his index finger found your navel and started attacking it mercilessly with tickles.

“N-NO! NOHOHOHOHO! N-NOHOT THEHEHERE!” You laughed and sucked in your tummy to try and escape. Varian grinned and flipped over so he was pinning you down, holding your arms above your head. He grinned wickedly.

“But (y/n), I found a giggle-bug and it’s burrowed into your adorable little giggle button. I have to get it out otherwise you’re never gonna stop all this giggling!” He said as he continued his tickly assault on your navel.

“TH-THEHEHEHERE IS NOHOHOT!” You protested, squealing and sliding down to the floor.

“Uh, yes there is. I’m the alchemist and I know these things.” He deadpanned which made you laugh even harder.

“G-GEHEHEHEHT OUT! GEHEHEHET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!” You cackled trying to pull you arms free to fend him off.

He groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Well, I’m trying to get the giggle-bug out, but you keep squirming! I can’t get it out unless you hold still.”

“IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T! NOHOT THE B-BEHEHEHELLY BUTTON!” You shrieked, surprised no one had come to check n you to make sure you weren’t dying.

“You don’t want that? Fine! How about this instead?” He said before lifting up the sweater and blowing raspberry after raspberry on your stomach. You snorted with laughter and tried to get away, but all your thrashing and squirming only succeeded in pressing your tummy further into the raspberries.

“Yah know, (n/n) I’m starting to think the giggle-bug is actually you.”

“I-I’M NOHOHOHOT A G-GIHIHIHIHIGGLE-BUG!”

“Sure you aren’t, giggle-bug.”

Varian smirked and started making nomming noises into your stomach between raspberries and using his hands to drill into your ribs, hitting every single bone before suddenly shooting in to your armpits and spidering the hollows. It tickled so bad!

You couldn’t decide if you loved it or hated it. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to take much more. You descended into silent hysterics when Varian blew a seemingly endless stream of loud, messy raspberries directly onto your belly button, using his knees to pin your arms so his fingers were free to vibrate into the rest of your tummy.

Luckily, Varian seemed to notice that you were reaching your limits and slowly, the merciless tickles slowed and eventually stopped altogether, leaving you breathless and hiccuping.

Varian smiled at you and helped you up, giving you a glass of water.

“You alright, (y/n)? Sorry if I got carried away at all.” He said, rubbing your back as you caught your breath.

“I-I’m okay Var. Don’t worry. You’re just a really good ler.” You said leaning into him and cuddling close. You felt him slump in relief.

“Thank Demanatis. I don’t wanna hurt you, (n/n).” You felt your heart warm at how sweet he was being. For such an evil ler, he was genuinely sweet when it came to aftercare.

“You would never.” You reassured him with a yawn.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a nap. You wore me out.” You said, nuzzling into his side. He smiled softly and held you close to him.

“Sleep well, (y/n).”

“Thanks. And, hey, Varian?”

“Yes, (y/n)?”

“I’m gonna get you back. Just wait until I wake up. You’re so getting wrecked.” You punctuated the threat with a quick poke to his tummy, where he was most sensitive.

Varian let out a startled yelp/giggle that made you snicker to yourself.

As you fell asleep, you considered yourself very lucky to be so close to such an amazing person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Well that’s a wrap for my first post for Tickletober! This was fun! We’ll see how many more I get done before I lose motivation! The prompts I will be using were created by @august-anon, so check out my pinned post for the list. I am definitely not going to be able to do them all and most of them will not be in order, but it’s still gonna be fun. I hope you all enjoy this little Drabble and hopefully I’ll post more as October goes by.

[star-burrow]

Managed to Wayback Machine my way into getting a Kay Ritter’s storyboard from Be Very Afraid, have fun!

[prestonmonterey]

ok time to start The Epic Quest To Find My Button Up

[amyriadfthings]

💝 

[nart-is-a-monster]

all these are a wip :b

and if you saw the gifs out of place is bc tumblr hates me and i had to re organize them like 3 times fjdshkjs

this one is a bit inspired in atlantis and neon Genesis evangelion just in some scenes.

Like these ones in evangelion to be exact and tha one from atlantis

And on this one, one inspiration was how characters on studio ghibli react or are animated when they get angry or fuzzy or something!

And as Hugo's chest is not that visible (and if I add the Chets that would mean animating a jacket and drawing the buttons and oughh) and so the way that hayao Miyazaki characters are animated were definitely an inspiration! And I want to do a camera angle change to make it look like is turning on the characters and so you can see the other guy on his side.

Like this one

I tried to search for references after doing the doodles so is just a little reference for later me too akjdksgkg

And this one is just him looking like a sad wet cat in the middle of a storm. For this one I have no inspirations or references, I just wanted to animate him blinking.

and

ok so

the one where hugo is smoking is supposed to go sort of like this

is kindda a modern au where varian meets hugo at a bar or a night club or something and he needs his help to get out of the country for... reasons (he accidentally killed his dad and is an enemy of the government) and now he needs the help of hugo to get new papers and get the hell outta there with no way for the investigators to find him, leaving no tracks behind!

and hugo is an expert in that, so after getting some favors set and done hugo helps varian a bit not expecting getting as invested in what varian is and what he has done and getting an inside conflict between, leaving varian and going back to his life, or follow him and see where the path takes them.

i might change some stuff abt that later tho, i began that animation with no plot in mind more other than imagining hugo blowing smoke into varian's face like an asshole.

And that's practically it!

Atm that is all I have

It ain't much but is honest work

This is for the ones who said to post the wips sjfjkskg

[kiridoesrandomthings]

guys dont laugh it’s my first time like ever painting with acrylic and it was hard— had to rush too 💀— anyways my friend invited me over to paint and hang out and ofc my obsessed little brain attempted varian <3 the whole time i was like ‘wheres the undo button WHERES THE MAGIC WAND TOOL 😭’ fr tho even if he isnt perfect i had fun so i thouufht id share lol dw i’ll be sticking to digital art in the future tho 😰

[pansy-picnics]

I really want to say this somewhere but honestly, my favorite part of Varigo is that it can really go both ways.

Like they have that soft fluffy thing going for them with that first love energy and it’s absolutely adorable in whatever it’s done with. And very believable.

But then they can also have this side where these two hate each other, but they want to MAKE OUT SO BAD IT HURTS TO WATCH. Like major enemies to lovers vibes and it’s very believable.

Maybe it’s just because Hugo technically never existed but any dynamic that any fanfic or art gives them just MAKES SENCE TO ME.

they are enemies AND lovers……... it is the funniest thing to me tbh i cannot see them being super lovey-dovey all the time after they get together, like its not that they AREN’T sickeningly in love, it’s just that they can flip between that and calling each other ugly whores within 5 seconds and they’re completely unfazed. as funny as it is i personally think it’s because at their core they are both kids who were forced to grow up too fast, and they bring out each others inner child in a way…. cuz like, their rivalry/hatred for each other has never been, in any way, Reasonable or Mature

hugo was suspicious when they met, sure, but i don’t think thats really why varian disliked him- i think that’s just the reason he used to justify it in his head. Really he just thought hugo was cool as fuck and he was really mad about being outshined on HIS coming of age quest. like. HE’S the main character bro. Who does this blonde bitch think he is. Goddamn. /j

and….Hugo was the same way lol. like despite his awful circumstances and all the angst going on in his head he only initially antagonized varian because he was a 19 year old boy and wanted to look cool and act like he knew everything. THEIR WHOLE RIVALRY WAS SO CHILDISH! AND THATS WHATS SO SPECIAL ABOUT IT I FEEL CUZ….NEITHER OF THEM HAVE EVER REALLY HAD THAT BEFORE.

ITS EXACTLY WHAT YOU SAID!! it’s that they’re each others first love…but they are also simultaneously each other’s first best friend and also each other’s first Enemy. Neither of them have REALLY done any of that before like ever. varian had friends but he’s never had friends HIS AGE, yk? its completely new for both of them, each for separate reasons, and because of that they are both acting like stupid fucking 12 year olds about it.

even after they get together i think the core of their dynamic is that….they were kind of each other’s (incredibly belated) childhood best friend. and they will always be best friends first and foremost Yk? they bring out each others inner child. it’s why even when they’ve been married for 40 years they tease each other like theyre two middle schoolers fighting on the school bus over pokemon cards. its why they always know exactly how to make the other laugh or cheer them up after a long day. they know EXACTLY how to push each others buttons but they also know when is too far, which is why they can just say the most vile things to each other without even hesitating because they KNOW they don’t gaf. They share one braincell together but they’re also both genius mad scientists so they COULD take over the world together if they wanted to but they’re too busy playing jenga with glass beakers in their pajamas at 2 pm. Idk. They need to be shot.

[antiquepearlss]

i have a very basic question but im very curious what others think js bcuz like idk...(btw this ask is so long and rambley I APOLOGIZE...)

what do u think the characters from tts wear to sleep, like sleep wear, like who wears the lace and satin night gowns, who wears a stained t-shirt and a disgusting pair of pants, who wears their birthday suit, who doesnt even wear pjs who js lays in bed and just sleeps in their day wear

its a question thats been itching my brain bcuz i think raps would wear night gowns(she does in the show) but like you never see anyone elses sleep wear so😭

this is so stupid i apologize but my gf has had just about enough of my rambles about this...(she hasnt but we always end up joking about eugene in lingerie so please...)

okay im running away bye bye now(also im sorry if youve already like talked abt this and i never saw it or did and forgot so!!😇)

Don’t apologize I love rambles. I’m a yapper so I thrive on being with other yappers. Also I thrive on these types of mundane/domestic headcanons so-

Rapunzel wears pretty nightgowns and sleep sets. Nothing ostentatious or expensive but nice classy pajamas that are very comfortable and make her feel cute. She probably indulges in silk and pure cotton because comfort and being cozy is the most importantly thing to her. They’re all paint stained.

Eugene wears expensive silks and satin. High-End luxurious nightwear. You know Cary Grant’s robe from Bringing Up Baby? Yeah he has that.

Lance, Varian, and Kiera all just wear whatever. As long as it’s comfy. Catalina probably has cute nightgowns, probably hand-me-downs from Raps. I headcanon Kiera and Catalina both wear Lance’s old shirts as nightgowns and same with Varian and Quirin’s old shirts. Varian totally falls asleep in his own clothes all the time. He only ever wore Quirin’s old clothes as pajamas, so when he moved to the castle and slept in his white button up and slacks-Rapunzel took pity on him and gave him her blue nightgown. He rocks it.

I adore Eugene in lingerie it’s actually a tad bit unhealthy put that man in a silk nightie and garters.

[elrielbaby]

Here is my incredibly late entry to @elainarcheronweek 2024, for the day 4 prompt, home. I hope you enjoy, and the link to Ao3 is at the bottom 😊❤️

Elain stood in her bed chambers at the River House, almost glowing with excitement. Nuala stood behind her, buttoning up her gown as Cerridwen painted her lips a soft pink, only a shade or two deeper than her natural colour. Her cheeks had been pinched slightly, and her eyelashes elongated. It was almost time.

Nesta and Feyre sat upon the bed, watching her with an almost reverent expression on their faces. They were already dressed and prepared to go. Nesta wore a gown the colour of roses, with a high neck and full skirts that would no doubt look even more beautiful when she danced later. She loved watching Nesta dance. Feyre’s dress was midnight blue, with gossamer sleeves, and the lower parts of the dress falling in almost a whimsical fashion even seated. Both of their bouquets of white roses, violets and pink peonies sat beside them.

Nuala came to face Elain as she’d finished buttoning up her gown to stand beside her twin. They both looked at her, their eyes brimming with tears.

“You look so beautiful” Nuala whispered.

“Obviously she does. We’re the ones who made her up” Cerridwen joked.

Elain laughed and turned to face the full-length mirror that stood behind her.

She wore a white satin dress, with long sleeves inlaid with lace and a scooped neck. Her hair had been pinned up into an elaborate braid that sat on the back of her head vertically, flowers pinned into it artfully.

Nesta stood, a veil in hand. She came behind Elain to tuck it in to the top of her braid.

“I am so proud of you” She murmured into Elain’s ear as she pressed a light kiss to her cheek. Feyre came to her other side, and did the same.

“Now, lets go get you hitched”

Azriel was waiting in the garden. The River House garden to be precise. He had never been so nervous, he was fidgety, playing with his hands and pacing.

“Could you please stand still? You’re making me nervous” Cassian moaned

Azriel scoffed “Cassian, need I remind you of your behaviour during your own wedding? You almost had a break down because, if I recall correctly, someone had decorated with lilies when you had insisted upon daffodils”

Cassian rolled his eyes and muttered “Lilies play havoc with my allergies.”

The infamous Spymaster of the Night Court smiled. Cassian was the smartest idiot he knew and he loved him dearly. He realised he’d stopped pacing.

Theirs was to be a small wedding, which both he and Elain were more than content with. They had everyone they wanted there: Rhys, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, Mor, Nyx, Amren (who had invited Varian), Nuala and Cerridwen.

The priestess who had performed Nesta and Cassian’s wedding and mating ceremony stood before them in her robes, hood largely covering her face, but the invoking stone could be made out shining proudly on her forehead.

The rest of the garden looked like a dream, in full bloom and cultivated so lovingly by his beloved. The sun was shining and just the right number of chairs were placed in a neat row on either side of a makeshift aisle.

Azriel, Cassian and Rhys all wore a similar style of suit, black pants, white shirt followed by a black jacket with a pink rose pinned to the lapels. Cassian had bemoaned being in a suit again, claiming he’d worn enough suits for this century, and bemoaned again at the flower being pinned to his jacket, claiming he’d be sneezing all throughout the ceremony. Elain had soon shut him up when in his package that had contained the suit and flower, there was a bottle of what she had called ‘allergy powder’ similar to that of the headache powder she had made for Azriel on that first solstice, when Azriel had dared to hope she might feel something for him too. He wasn’t sure whether it was her powers of foresight or that fact she just knew Cassian that prompted her to provide it for him. Most likely the latter.

Mor, Nyx in her arms, Amren and Varian arrived taking their seats on one side. Mor looked at him and beamed with pride, suddenly jumping up to give him what Azriel could only describe as a one-armed bear hug. She pulled back and looked at him, tears shone in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you” she whispered, Nyx babbling on her hip.

There would have been a time that such affection from Mor would have his heart stuttering, pulse racing. Now he had no more affection for her than that of a sister. He had been slowly letting go of those more romantic affections for her for years of course, but then Elain came along and Azriel suddenly knew what true love was.

Elain had captured his heart from almost the moment he had met her. It had not been instant and all consuming (as it now was) but slow and gentle.

He was first struck by how beautiful she was, when they met in the human lands. That beauty had only been enhanced since she’d turned Fae, but he’d always found her beautiful.

Then he’d been struck by her gentleness, her kindness. She brought him peace in a way he’d never known and he felt like he could talk to her forever. As time passed, he was again struck by her quiet fury, her determination and her strong inclination toward the hope that things could only get better. She was wise beyond her years, observant in a way he’d only ever seen in two other people: Nuala and Cerridwen.

Slowly, that initial attraction and ease turned to friendship, and that friendship turned into something more. Azriel didn’t give two shits what anyone else said, be that some guy on the street, the Cauldron, or the Mother herself; Elain was his Mate of the soul. She was his love, and his love for her was undying. It surpassed anything Azriel had ever felt before, and he would be her husband and she his wife until his last breath.

Rhys had been wary when he’d first found out. In all honesty, he didn’t blame him. He’d never opened up to him on his feelings of a romantic nature. Rhys knew obviously, that Azriel had once loved Mor and up until very recently had thought he still did. Rhys was protective of Elain in a way, probably because she reminded him so much of his own sister. But it was more than that Azriel knew, there were too many potential fall outs that could happen if Elain and Azriel were to pursue each other. But Rhys was his brother, and his brother wanted him desperately to be happy. Once it had been put to Rhys that had the roles been reversed, and it was he and Feyre in this situation what would he do?

Azriel supposed that putting it that way to Rhys let him know how serious he really was about her. And so, Rhys came around. He was still wary of the aftermath of this, but he had told them both they would have his full support and they would meet it head on.

“I’m being summoned.” Rhys said, his head tilted in a way that told him Feyre was speaking in to his mind.

Rhys walked up to him, clasped him on the shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, then winnowed into the River House.

The music started, and petals started to fall gracefully from the trees. Azriel took a deep breath, and faced the priestess.

Rhys appeared directly in front of her beside the door into the garden.

“Are you ready?” Rhys said, holding out his arm.

Elain gave him a full grin, her eyes watery from emotion “I’ve never felt more prepared” she said.

Nuala and Cerridwen walked out first, their bouquets in hand, in their pink and purple gowns. Then Feyre and Nesta walked out, Nesta taking her spot beside Cassian who stood to Azriel’s right, Feyre next to her.

Elain and Rhys stepped out into the garden. Azriel looked so beautiful, in his suit, his hair falling in waves – she couldn’t wait to plunge her hands in to it later.

He looked at her, tears streaming down his face, which in turn set Elain crying.

They had faced so much to get here. The lies, the sneaking around, the wondering if they could ever properly be together. And here they were, in front of all those they held dear finally being able to profess their love from the very rooftops if they so wished.

They’d finally reached Azriel, the music stopping. Rhys took Elain’s hand, gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and pressed her hand into Azriel’s outstretched palm. She had eyes for only him. She stroked his thumb with hers as their hands were joined.

“Hi” she said

“Hi back,” he replied “you look more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

He took a step closer so that he could whisper in her ear “how precious are you about the buttons on this dress?”

Elain’s cheeks heated, and she swatted him playfully on the shoulder

“You rogue” she chuckled.

The priestess cleared her throat and began.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

They exchanged vows, promising to love each other in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse – and then they made their own personal vows to one another. Azriel led the charge. His hand in hers.

“Elain. I love you, and I will love you until we are but whispers in the wind – and in that whisper you will hear the story of us, of how I loved you with every bit of my heart and my soul. I wish never to be parted from you in this life or the next. It is my dream to come home to you every night and to talk to you into the small hours about all things. Your burdens are my burdens, your cares my cares. I will love what you love, and dream what you dream. I am yours from now, until the stars wither in the sky and the sun goes cold. You are my greatest joy, for now and always.”

Elain couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. Now it was her turn.

“Azriel. I love you, and I will love you until my heart ceases beating and my lungs no longer draw enough air to speak your name. I will love you through this life, and endeavour to find you in the next. You are my home, my greatest gift. I wish for nothing more than to share a life with you, come what may. A home, children – I want it all, and I want it with you. You no longer need to carry things alone, for I am here to help you. We face this life together, and nothing or no one will stop us.”

Now they were all crying, Amren included. Even Varian appeared misty eyed.

They exchanged rings, and as their hands clasped and the priestess offered up a prayer to the mother a strange phenomenon occurred. Elain had felt an oddness in the air, not unpleasant but as if someone else were here with them. As the priestess spoke to the Mother, everyone gasped as they noticed the faint outline of a hand pressed atop Elain and Azriel’s.

The Priestess stopped. “The Mother approves of this union” she said solemnly but with all confidence. Azriel gave Elain a watery smile. He didn’t honestly care if she approved or not, but it was nice that she did.

“You are now joined as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Azriel wasted no time, both hands on the side of Elain’s face as he drew her in for a kiss. It was all their kisses rolled into one. Sweet and tender, desperate and all consuming. His tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the kiss. Cassian wolf whistled, Mor whooped. Feyre and Nesta wiped tears from their eyes and then everyone was upon them, congratulating them.

“Listen, I know all you two want to do is go home, but I’m starving and Nesta has forbade me from the wedding cake until you’ve cut it, so, please?” Cassian gave them a pleading look, Nesta nudging him with her elbow.

Elain smiled. “Lucky for you Cass, there’s a full three course meal about to be served. Then cake.”

Cass swooped down and gave her a kiss on the cheek “You’ve always been my favourite” he grinned

“Hey!” Feyre shouted, chasing him into the River House.

They ate like Kings and Queens. Prawn cocktail to start, followed by roast beef and a mountain of vegetables, then treacle sponge and custard to finish. Everyone was positively stuffed by the time the cake cutting rolled around, which Elain and Azriel tried to get to expeditiously. They loved their family but they wanted to be alone.

Once that was done, they hurried through the goodbyes and stepped into Azriel’s shadows. They landed just in front of the doors to the Townhouse.

“This,” Azriel said “is our wedding present from Rhys. Welcome home”

Elain was stunned into speechlessness. It was absurdly generous, even by Rhys’ standards. But she’d always loved this house. It was where her new life truly began.

Azriel stooped to grab Elain behind her knees, whisking her into his arms, one arm supporting her back the other her knees.

He walked across the threshold with her in his arms, eyes on her the whole time. He set her down. Elain looked around the new home from the hallway. Azriel took her hand and she looked down at them, her hand in his.

“Beautiful” she whispered.

[born-to-riot]

I Know What You Need

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 7 (Free Day)

Summary: Amren comes up with an unorthodox solution to one of Nesta's problems....and by unorthodox I mean Amren and Varian invite Nesta to share their bed for the night.

[This all was inspired by a message I sent @acourtofladydeath that said: I think there is a sore lack of vamren in the community and shall I fix that by having them invite a third? Shall it be Nesta? Shall Amren show her how to harness her potential by taking it out on a needy overstimulated Varian?]

Found on AO3

What I Want.

Chapter 1 of 2

Looking back, Nesta isn’t quite sure how she found herself in this situation. Well actually that’s a lie, she thinks.  Nesta shifts her weight to her other leg and releases a sigh as she tightens her bun for what feels like the umpteenth time. She has been standing outside the door of Amren’s apartament in Velaris for Cauldron knows how long, afraid to knock. 

In truth, Nesta knows exactly how she ended up accepting her mentor and friend’s shocking proposal. It does not necessarily erase the thin but ever-so-present shroud of guilt and mortification hovering about her. 

“You’re here for a reason.” Nesta quietly reminds herself, keeping her blue-gray eyes locked on the unopened door in front of her. 

In a thin, black  robe, Nesta Archeron stands tall. Made ornate by the roses and thorns sewn into the neck line, the silk clings tightly to her skin. Amren had asked–or actually she more so demanded–that Nesta arrive here tonight dressed minimally, so she had. As she, Amren, and Varian have all gone over several times prior to tonight, the scene will start as soon as the tiny fae opens the door. 

“It might help if I knock on it first.” Nesta murmurs to herself.

It's been six months since the end of the war with Hybern and to be honest, Nesta has not been in the best place with her mind, her friends, or with her power. She’s not even going to start on the whole weird connection she feels with Cassian. The male has been super frustrating as of late and honestly, all Nesta wants to do anytime he comes near her is punch him in the face. More pertinent to the present matter at hand, Nesta feels like she’s been swept into a world she wasn’t ready to understand and placed into a body that she doesn’t fully know. She wishes she could take this transition in stride like Feyre. Recently, even Elain is doing better than she is. But instead Nesta feels like she is shriveling down to a fragment of herself, cowering under the weight of the unknown, from the fear of what has already happened, and the terror of what is coming next. 

But alas, Amren has offered a possible solution, albeit an unorthodox one, to address some of her problems and Nesta would be foolish to deny this opportunity as not only it is much better than bedding random males every night, but also she is hopeful that she will be able to feel whole again after tonight. 

“Come on, Nesta,” she tells herself, “Still, she refuses to acknowledge that her hand is most definitely shaking as she slowly raises it in preparation to knock on the red-painted door that stands between her and something that she knows she will never be able to come back from. 

Nesta has to remind herself to keep breathing when the door swings open in front of her, her hand still raised in front of the now empty space. Not even a millisecond later, Amren appears in the doorframe, clad in sheer white oversized button down shirt, which–if Nesta wasn’t too busy attempting to stop her jaw from literally dropping at the mesmerizing sight of Amren’s elaborate lingerie set peaking through the frame provided by the unbuttoned shirt–she’d put her money on it being Varians. She doesn’t spend too much time pondering that thought, however, as Nesta is also currently trying to remedy the usual image of the harem-pants-wearing and fear-inducing tiny gremlin of a fae with the ethereal vision in front of her currently. 

Amren is intimidating enough on her own; however, the additional height of her thigh-high seven-inch platforms brings her just a couple inches shy of Nesta’s own height and the closeness of her ancient silver hues makes Nesta’s heart start racing even faster. As Amren clearly is taking her time in assessing Nesta, she takes her own time to try to decide if she wants to top or be topped by the little fae in front of her. 

Nesta isn’t reluctant to admit that she has not ever spent much time thinking about Amren’s breasts other than the fact that they were small. Now though, as she sees them held in an overbust mesh black steel boned corset, she can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like in her palms. Nesta also hasn’t given too much thought to women before in regards to the matter of sexual preference. In her defense, when she was still human she was mostly surrounded with women that were either related to her or were members of the blasted ‘children of the blessed’. She supposes she will have to be thankful that the whole ‘being dunked in a magical cauldron against her will by an egomaniac’ ordeal has allowed her to explore a wider avenue of carnal opportunities than she ever could have imagined. At that line of thought her traitorous brain and heart work together to form an image of a certain large red-siphoned Illyrian male and Nesta quickly shuts that down. Tonight is not about him, she reassures herself, it's about her. 

Fortunately, there is something about Amren’s ancient aura combined with her ‘wiser than thou’ attitude that Nesta finds infuriating but at the same time inexplicably attractive. Amren lets out a purposefully audible sigh, shifting her weight onto her other leg and placing her black fingerless glove covered arms on her hip–barely visible past the rolled-up sleeves of Varian’s shirt. Still, the movement draws Nesta’s attention to the many rings on her finger–unsurprising–and the tiny fae’s manicure, her nails filed to such sharp tips they appeared to be claws. Not only that, but the movement adjusts the oversized shirt she was wearing over her lingerie set and now Nesta can’t stop the thrum of interest that rises inside of her as her eyes lock onto the bare skin of Amren’s pussy, which is on display through her crotchless mesh and lace panty. 

“You’re late,” Amren’s voice shocks Nesta out of her self-induced stupor. She immediately lifts her gaze to meet the unimpressed one evident in the other’s charcoal-lined eyes. 

She opens her mouth to speak–to try and come up with some sort of explanation for herself–yet she finds she is unable to do anything other than audibly choke on an inhale. Nesta closes her mouth, frustrated with herself. She is smart, she is beautiful, she is the eldest of her sisters and she will be Cauldron-damned if she lets herself get flustered by Amren of all people. Nesta straightens her posture and goes to speak again, intending to say something stupid about how ‘You’re lucky I came at all’ just so she could feel more in control of the situation. However, she gets interrupted again, this time though not by her own volition, but instead at the silent raising of Amren’s hand in a ‘stop’ motion. She feels a rise of anger filling her, absolutely furious at the audacity of Amren to just hold her hand up and expect Nesta to stop speaking. How dare she? A voice hisses inside of her, one that Nesta is not too sure is entirely her own, yet she is too caught up in her inexplicable rage to care. 

“I don’t care for excuses, girl,” Amren interrupts her before Nesta even has a chance to voice her ire, rolling her eyes and stepping aside so that she can hold the door open– the action a clear invitation for Nesta to enter the premises. Nesta takes a deep breath, truly trying not to lose her cool at the elder for such a minor transgression and one that is just so quintessentially Amren. However, she nearly loses her composure again when her inner consciousness decides to remind her that ‘she does have a type.’ Nesta is fully aware that she apparently has a metaphorical hard-on for infuriatingly obnoxious assholes–the main culprit of this affliction being Cassian. However, usually, Amren is more of a smartass which keeps her away from the same category as the Ilyrian. Tonight, however, the ancient being seems to be cauldron-bent on trying to antagonize Nesta and for some forsaken reason the slight is turning her on.

Instead of falling victim to Amren’s goading, Nesta inhales the Velaris air one more time before taking a step past the threshold into Amren’s apartment. Upon her exhale, she finds herself in the same lackluster entryway she’s found herself in many times before. Amren, at least given what Nesta has observed so far in the time she’s known her, seems to prefer to save her decor for the deeper areas of the apartment–if she were to wager a guess, Nesta presumes the ancient creature would rather keep her jewels and valuables protected and hidden in contrast to Rhys and Feyre who display their wealth like a peacock does its feathers. Though, she supposes that is their right as the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Nevertheless, Nesta still takes the time to let her eyes trail across her immediate surroundings. She recognizes the same little alcove to her left that has two emerald green club chairs on either side of a small end table as well as the rest of the entryway, the area being sparse apart from another closed door and a painting of some books. Despite the fact that she’s seen this all before, Nesta feels the hairs on her arms start to raise as her gaze finally lands on the empty hallway in front of her; she wonders if the chill in the air is a foretaste of what is to come of tonight. 

Before she has a chance to determine what side of the scale the omen leans toward, the sound of the door slamming behind her shocks Nesta back into the moment. She whips around to face Amren, who is leaning with her back against the now-shut front door, smirking up at her. While she internally reprimands her subconscious for allowing her to show her back to such a dangerous creature, Nesta would also be lying if she says she did not feel a sense of satisfaction curl within her once she realizes that even with Amren’s heels, Nesta is still taller than her. Of course, this satisfaction doesn’t last, the second Amren lets her grin fall off her face and takes a step forward, Nesta feels as if a veil has lifted from her view, revealing the ethereal being in front of her. Everyone in Prythian knows that Amren is an otherworldly creature, full of knowledge and power. Nesta regrets to think that she thought Amren would somehow become less than she once was after she lost her power in the Cauldron all those months ago. 

“This is your last chance to back out girl,” Amren says seriously, pure silver locked on gray blue, gazing into her eyes so directly Nesta almost feels as if Amren is able to see through her. Nesta is still trying to take in the sight of Amren’s silky black hair framing her sharp jaw-line, her small but supple tits barely visible but clearly evident, her tiny waist and lean muscle both obvious through the mesh and fit of her corset, the color a great contrast against her tanned skin. However, as Nesta eyes Amren’s freshly shaven cunt–the pattern of the lace on her crotchless panties perfectly framing her vulva–she feels her temperature rise with a combination of both desire and ire. Nesta doesn’t give a shit if Amren currently looks like some sort of goddess, how dare she question her surety.

“I know what I want,” Nesta narrows her eyes into a glare and straightens her posture, refusing to look away from Amren’s unusually sober stare. She understands that Amren is just concerned, but she wishes everyone would stop being so careful around her. She used to be able to rely on Amren to be the only one in her sister’s stupid fucking Inner Circle who was willing to be up-front with her.   

“It's not a question of what you want, this is a matter of what you need, girl,” Amren stalks closer to her, her eyes somehow still bright and predatory despite the dimness of the room. 

“There is nothing weak about having second thoughts,” she purrs, starting to circle around Nesta as she comes even closer, like a predator and its prey. 

“Amren,” she snaps, frustratedly, tired of her friend’s game. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be, Nesta bemoans the fact that it seems like the tiny fae truly derives some sick sense of pleasure from making everything ten times more difficult than it needs to be. 

“Patience child,” she shivers at the sound of Amren’s tongue clicking right behind her, the ancient one’s voice sounding displeased. Before Nesta can even process why the disappointment in Amren’s tone causes her heart to jolt, the press of two dangerously sharp nail tips against the back of her neck pause all of her racing thoughts. She fights the urge to flinch as the nails start to slowly drag down the remainder of her exposed spine, pressing into each vertebrae it passes.

“Don’t make a mistake. Just because I allow you to play a dominant role tonight,” the female hisses, her breath warm against Nesta’s ear, the two dangerously sharp tips of Amren’s nails focusing on the vertebrae that sits right above the collar of Nesta’s robe, she continues, “doesn’t mean I’m not still willing to put you in your place.”

The words send a shiver of delight through Nesta, the tickle of Amren’s breath against her ear sends tendrils of electricity that spread throughout her whole body. She can feel the tingles reverberate in her chest and down her arms, until they land, pooling in her breasts. Nesta’s breath hitches and she  as the indent of Amren’s nails start to shift, her nipples hardening at the drag of the claw-like sensation against the side of her throat. She doesn’t even realize that her eyes are closed until Amren releases the grip on her neck, Nesta opening her eyes to find the other in front of her with a distinctly pleased grin painting her sharp faerie features. 

“Understand?” Amren asks expectantly, slowly moving her jewel covered hand to the flimsy piece of string that is holding Nesta’s robe together, causing the more modest of the two to blush. Nesta feels a piece of her strange newly awakened inner soul start to fight at the idea of conceding to anyone. However, she notes the tantalizingly slow speed of Amren’s outstretched hand and appreciates the fact that she is purposefully giving her plenty of opportunity to reject the advance if Nesta was to wish it so. 

“Hmm?” Amren urges Nesta gently to respond, pausing her hand once it reaches its destination, tangling itself loosely in the string. As Nesta eyes Amren, she can’t help but think that this is probably the most considerate Amren will ever be of her wishes. Still, she looks at the hunger evident in Amren’s eyes, thinks about the heat filling her own body, and she knows she can’t put this off any longer. She thinks over the last couple months of angst and seclusion, about how she can barely stand to look at herself in the mirror, the flames in her eyes not feeling like her own.  It’s time she takes the next step for herself. Nesta knows what she wants–no, she knows what she needs to do now. 

“Yes Mistress, I understand,” Nesta replies, inclining her head as a sign of acceptance of Amren’s authority.

“Good girl” Nesta doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that the older’s praise gives her such a clear sense of security. However, it seems she doesn’t have much time to ponder on it further. With one swift movement Amren has rid Nesta’s robe of the tie keeping it together, the fabric falling open to reveal her bare skin underneath. 

“What a treat,” a devilish smirk plasters itself onto Amren’s face as the female eyes her up and down. She has to admit that this, revealing her naked body to her friend, is one of the parts of tonight that she has been most nervous for. Now though, Nesta can only find it in herself to feel pleased as she watches Amren hungrily take in her bare body, her unyielding silver stare seeming to pause on her ample breasts and what’s visible of her cunt. 

“You look absolutely delightful, he won’t be able to control himself,” Amren notes before turning on her heel and heading down the long hallway. Nesta is flattered and somewhat surprised that Amren said so– assuming the ‘he’ in question is Varian– Nesta’s body being a much different build than Amren’s. Nesta has been so caught up in Amren she almost is sorry to say that she might have forgotten about Varian, which is insane because Amren is quite literally letting Nesta fuck her boyfriend to help her feel normal in this new body of hers and to help her gain control of the great power that has been set loose inside her. 

“Come on, girl,” Nesta will admit she barely registers the words that are coming out of Amren’s mouth, her eyes a little busy admiring the other’s well-defined ass. She supposes it makes sense, Amren is strong not only due to her position as Rhysand’s Second in Command, but also just through reputation alone. It would make sense that Amren’s glutes would reflect such strength, which Nesta once again feels bad for presuming that someone so small wouldn’t be able to have a wonderful ass. 

“I won’t be happy if I have to repeat myself,” Amren notes, turning back to look at Nesta over her shoulder, raising a brow. Nesta quickly launches herself into motion, following the other female. As Amren comes to stop in front of one of the doors further down the way, Nesta wonders what lies behind it.

“Let the festivities begin,” Amren quips, opening the door in front of her and stepping inside. Nesta gulps as she follows behind her, not having a chance to see anything other than a dark room and the white of the shirt on Amren’s back before the other motions to her in a request to close the door behind her. Nesta turns quickly then, somehow hoping that the faster she moves the more it will lessen her nerves. As soon as she closes the door she notes that the lighting in the room dims significantly. She takes a second to inhale and exhale, clearing her mind of all of her worries, before finally deciding that she is truly ready to begin..

“What now?” Nesta asks, turning around in search of Amren. 

“Strip” Amren orders, taking the moment to also shed herself of the oversized shirt she had been wearing over her lingerie. 

Nesta takes a moment to assess her surroundings, noting that they seem to be in a walk-in closet. The only light in the room is provided by the flames of various candles throughout the many presumably empty shelves in the room, Nesta admits she hasn’t given the shelves too much attention as she is much more interested in the main focus of the room: a large ostentatious full length mirror. The mirror is absolutely gorgeous and is framed by two hanging lanterns so that whoever stands in front of it will be able to see themselves in lovely detail. So much detail that Nesta finds her nerves creeping up on her again, but she looks at Amren–waiting patiently next to the mirror for her– and slips the sleeves of her robe off her shoulders. The already-opened garment easily slides down the rest of her body and gathers in a puddle at her feet.

“Good girl,” Amren purrs, “now come over here and stand in front of this mirror for me, yeah?”

Nesta nods, trying to keep her eyes on Amren female instead of looking back at her own reflection. The air in the room chills against her now bare skin, Nesta feels the hair on her arms stand as she lessens the distance between herself and her destination. Although, as Nesta takes another step, she realizes that she is not exactly sure if the goosebumps are solely due to the cold. 

“Tell me what you see, girl,” Amren orders her, Nesta finally arriving at a standstill. She hesitates to adhere to the ancient one’s wishes, biting her lip and taking note of the fact that she finds some form of comfort in the familiar face of her friend. It is not like she is a virgin. Nesta is guilty of having taken many random fae males back to her apartment over the course of the past six months. Despite the frequency of the occurrences, Nesta finds it hard to remember anything apart from going through the expected motions. She brings the male of choice to her bed, they fuck, the male goes home, and once again she is left feeling trapped in some suspension of reality–stuck in a time that is between the past and the present, no hope for a future. 

But tonight, in this moment, in this closet, there is no denying the vulnerability that seeps through her every pore. In the candlelight Amren’s silver eyes look radiant, luminous like they were before she sacrificed herself, her power, for them all. Nesta is as guilty as the rest of the inner circle in that they all are waiting for the moment Amren breaks, that she lashes out at one of the others in jealousy, that she can’t take it anymore. But now, Amren stands in front of her more alluring than Nesta has ever found her before. The tiny fae is still leaning against the mirror frame, waiting patiently for Nesta to follow her orders. Nesta looks her up and down, once again admiring Amrens' lingerie–the combination of her heels, corset, fingerless gloves, and crotchless lace mesh panties all working well together to bring attention to her toned legs. Nesta finds herself overcome with jealousy too, that Amren could walk around her own house showing off her cunt so freely. However, she does appreciate Amren’s uncharacteristic show of patience and so Nesta nods at the elder before adhering to her wishes. She turns slightly to face herself in the mirror.

“I see myself,” Nesta answers the question without a thought. She spies Amren frowning at her response from the corner of her eye and Nesta struggles not to do the same. Respecting the process is hard when the process is asking her what she sees in a mirror, what the fuck else is she supposed to see other than her reflection? 

“Try again,” Amren says, clearly displeased. This time, Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her frown. She doesn’t know why she's trying to be polite when she’s here naked in front of Amren. Still, she swallows as she takes note of Amren’s figure entering the mirror’s field of vision, the ancient creature clearly assessing her.

“I don’t know its a fucking mirror, Amren, what else am I supposed to see?” Nesta snaps. She has never been one to hold herself back before, she doesn’t know why she should stop now. Maybe if Nesta demands some answers from Amren, then their night can get started faster.

“I will give you one warning to keep your temper in check, girl,” Amren hisses, the flickering candlelight bouncing off her naturally tanned skin as she approaches Nesta, her figure becoming larger as she gets closer to Nesta. 

“You know what you signed up for, I don’t like brats,” Amren comes to a stop just slightly behind her, Nesta is able to see her claw-like nails rhythmically tapping impatiently upon her cocked hip.

Nesta closes her eyes with a sigh. She does know what she signed up for, and if anyone knows how to deal with being shoved inside a different form it's Amren. She inhales and tries to clear her mind of all her inhibitions, she knows that in order for this to work she needs to step into it fully rather than keeping one metaphorical foot out the door. Nesta opens her eyes, looking straight into their gray-blue reflection as she decides she’s ready to try again. 

“I see…” Nesta trails off, her throat suddenly dry as the mirror confronts her with a bare body, the body that she knows is supposed to belong to her, the body that looks almost the same as it always has, the body that no longer feels like her own. A stranger.

“You see…?” Amren urges her to continue. The heat radiating from her breath tickles against Nesta’s ear, causing her nipples to tingle slightly. She pushes that thought aside though because she remembers Amren has asked her a question..

“I see….myself?” she replies less sure than before, watching her own shoulders hike up in the mirror, noting that her breasts bounce slightly with the motion. Despite the fact that she utters the same response as before, anyone who has two eyes and two working ears would be able to tell that Nesta’s tone is completely different than it was before. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. 

Nesta knows this body, she recognizes her fair skin, she recognizes her golden-brown hair–still tied up in a bun, and she recognizes her sharp jawline. Her ears are definitely different but oddly enough it doesn’t bother her, she supposes it suits her face and she still has her same long neck. As she lets her eyes trail down her reflection further she can see her arms are more toned than before. Her breasts are a tad bit bigger than when she was human too–which she chalks up to the amazing food in Prythian. In her opinion, there is nothing particularly remarkable about her stomach or legs, they are the same size and length as before. Nesta is familiar with this body, so she doesn’t know why she feels so out of place in front of this mirror.

Nesta can’t help but let her eyes focus on her least favorite part of herself: her cunt. It's not like she’s had a lot of others to compare hers to before, but she has always felt like hers was rather ugly. Nesta lets her eyes glance slightly to the right to take a peek at Amren’s cunt where it's peeking through her crotchless panties in the mirror. The ancient fae’s pussy was free of all pubic hair, her vulva looking smooth. Based on the fact that Nesta doesn’t see any signs of Amren's inner labia, she assumes that Amren is one of those lucky bitches with shorter ones. Nesta glances back to her own, her own pubic region is covered in hair in addition to her inner labia hanging down to where they are visible in her reflection. 

“Good enough,” Amren, thankfully, interrupts her negative spiral of thoughts. Nesta is also grateful that Amren accepts her answer, probably able to sense the change in Nesta’s energy. 

“On your knees!” Nesta didn’t even notice Amren move before she felt a distinct boot-like pressure on the backs of her knees, causing them to buckle. Before she even has a chance to be upset about this turn of events, she feels Amren’s hand grip the back of her neck, focusing Nesta’s attention back on both of their reflections in the mirror.

“First, we’re taking care of this pesky bun,” Nesta gasps as Amren roughly snaps the hairband she was using, yanking it out of her hair. Nesta can’t even appreciate the tickle of her golden-brown hair falling upon her shoulders, she gasps out a moan as Amren adjusts her grip to include the back of her hair, yanking it back roughly.

“Then,” she uses one of her nails to bring Nesta’s head up to face her. From this position, Nesta has a really good perspective of Amren's vulva, her dark inner labia symmetrically framed by the beautiful lace of her panties. She guesses she understands now why Amren and Varian spend so much of their time in the bedroom, if Nesta had a partner who looked like that she wouldn’t be able to stay off of them. 

“Listen to me,” Amren continues to speak, adding pressure to her grip on the back of Nesta’s neck, moving the other hand–finger still on her jaw–down to rest upon the column of her now exposed throat, “you are never going to get over this malaise of yours if you don’t acknowledge that you are more now.”

Nesta isn’t exactly sure how she’s supposed to be paying attention to anything other than the feel of Amren’s finger, the sharp edge now tracing down the line of her throat–now that Nesta can actually feel the edges of Amren’s nails, she knows that if Amren wanted she could slice through the skin of her neck with one flick of her finger. Still, Nesta tries to ignore the trail of electricity that seems to be shooting out of wherever her skin makes contact with Amren’s and instead tries to focus on the conversation that she is supposed to be participating in.

“No, I know…,” Nesta starts, the sudden absence of Amren’s grip startles her, “I know-”, she tries to continue, tracking Amren’s reflection in the mirror, the tiny fae keeping her one finger anchored in its position on Nesta’s neck while swerving behind her so that she is now standing behind Nesta’s left side. “I know that I’m… different,” Nesta finishes, trying not to flinch away from the sudden softness of Amren’s knuckle circling the area of skin around the indentation left behind by the sharp edge of her nail. 

“Different isn’t the same as bad, child,” Nesta doesn’t know why the use of the term ‘child’ suddenly bothers her, Amren is so old that it makes perfect sense why she would view all their friends as such. Yet, for some reason, the term strikes an odd cord within her, leaving behind a slight residue of ire. She doesn’t think she is in the place to complain about it now, though. Especially as she both witnesses Amren’s reflection and feels the fae move behind her, now straddling her left calf and hooking her chin over the back of Nesta’s shoulder. Her nipples harden immediately, the combination of Amren’s breath ghosting over her shoulder—breezing past the side of her neck—and of the warmth against her completely nude back transforms Nesta’s body into an oversensitive vessel. 

“I remember when I first saw you, and these,” Amren starts, her arms reaching out from behind Nesta, her tanned hands—peeking out from fingerless gloves—now taking a hold of Nesta’s breasts, “these for sure are different.”

Nesta bites back a moan as she makes eye contact with Amren through the mirror, the other fae having an almost feral grin on her face as she begins massaging Nesta’s breasts. Despite the fact that Amren’s hands are small—not able to encompass the entirety of Nesta’s rather large breasts—she makes up for it with her vigor. Amren starts rolling Nesta’s nipples between her index finger and thumb in combination with the rhythmic pressing of her other fingers, each one making contact with a pressure point Nesta didn’t even know was there.. 

“Mhmm” Nesta moans a response, unable to hold back the effect of the pleasure arising from Amren’s kneading. It feels like there is fire inside her, each roll of Amren’s fingers on her nipples causes a ripple like sensation shooting straight to her cunt, leaving a pathway of sensitivity leading straight to her steadily heating core.

“And this,” Amren says lowly, nibbling at Nesta’s left ear as she releases her grip on her right breast. Both silver and gray-blue eyes track Amren’s hand through the mirror–watching as it disappears behind Nesta’s back briefly. 

Nesta loses track of the room around her as she feels two of the pads of Amren’s fingers press ever-so-lightly against her spine between her shoulder-blades. This teasingly light touch combines with a particularly well timed squeeze of her left breast, triggering another round of the spark-like sensation inside her. Nesta tilts her head back to the right almost subconsciously, her body submitting to Amren and readily exposing her neck. She ignores the inner rage that emerges from that same deep  place as before, especially when she feels Amren’s fingers start to trail their teasingly-light touch down her spine–the fae seemingly enjoying the feel of the dips and ridges between her vertebrae as she makes her way down. 

“This is your greatest error,” Amren ghosts the words over the exposed skin of her neck, Nesta shivers at the sensation. 

“What is?” Nesta asks, she internally curses her ancient friend’s inability to refrain from sounding cryptic whenever she speaks.

“This,” Amren repeats, immediately releasing her other breast. Nesta is too confused to register the jiggle of her tit as it settles back into its place on her chest. ‘This’ still isn’t an answer, Nesta thinks. Thankfully though, she isn’t too far caught up into the ‘enigma that is Amren’ to miss the fact that Amren’s right hand is currently resting on her ass, the palm of her left hand–the one that has just released her breast–now pressing on the region of skin just above her pelvic bone. 

“How dare you deny this cunt as your own,” Amren demands. Nesta gasps as Amren moves her hand that is resting on Nesta’s ass down to cup her vulva from behind, igniting a whole new round of heat inside of her. Nesta can feel Amren’s fingers tangling themselves in her pubic hair, she can see the tips of Amren’s nails in the reflection from the mirror. 

“I-I didn’t tell you that,” Nesta stutters, the heat of Amren’s hand below making it difficult for Nesta to retrieve her thoughts, her clit throbs in anticipation and she can feel the distinct sensation of wetness starting to build up inside of her.  

“I know,” Amren smirks, Nesta making eye contact with her reflection, “But you poured your soul out into this mirror, girl. I can tell, that’s why I know exactly what I need to do to fix you.”

Nesta can’t even begin to try to wrap her head around that sentence; as soon as Nesta opens her mouth Amren presses her palm harder into Nesta’s front, causing a loud moan to escape her lips instead of whatever it was she intended to say as the added pressure discharges quivers of pleasure straight to her clit. Nesta is beginning to get the feeling that Amren enjoys making her speechless. 

“And w-what’s that?” she manages to ask, truly desperate to know how Amren is going to fix Nesta’s fractured soul.

“How about you stop asking questions so that I can show you,” Amren replies instead of answering, Nesta pauses, noting that this is the first time tonight that Amren has sounded anything close to borderline impatient. Amren relaxes the pressure on Nesta’s front, seemingly waiting for the younger to respond before she continues. 

Nesta quickly pushes aside the massive amounts of lust that are coursing through her body at the moment and instead makes eye contact with Amren again through their reflections. 

“Yes Mistress, I apologize,” Nesta says dutifully, only feeling slightly bad that she irritated Amren. Still, she knows she made the right move as Nesta spies Amren’s shoulders relaxing as she rehooks her chin over Nesta’s left shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praises. Nesta watches Amren’s eyes flash before she starts moving her left hand up and down Nesta’s stomach. Nesta can do nothing but swallow as Amren starts to move her right hand. 

“Now, are you seriously trying to tell me that these don’t belong to you?” Amren hisses. Nesta jolts as she feels Amren grip the lips of her inner labia, slowly rolling them between her fingers.

“These are nice, full, begging for attention, why do you hate them?”

“I don’t-” Nesta tries to start.

“Don’t lie to me,” Amren cuts her off, igniting another distant unfamiliar rage inside Nesta, one that she does not completely understand. As it seems to keep happening tonight, Amren doesn’t give her a chance to respond as Amren places a particularly strong tug on her inner labia, pulling the lips down before releasing them, the sound of Nesta’s wetness subsequently echoing in the quiet tiny room.

Amren forms two of her fingers into a V, pressing them just outside the area surrounding her clit before she starts massaging the area in a circular motion.

“Fuck.” Nesta whimpers, Amren’s teasing is absolutely agonizing. Nesta’s clit throbs, with the other’s fingers so close, it can’t help but send pulses of need throughout Nesta’s body in time with each move of Amren’s fingers around it. 

“I need you to understand that this power of yours is not something you should be afraid of,” Amren stops the circular motions and instead presses two fingers directly onto her clit through its hood. Nesta swears the pleasure is so intense, it feels as if a fire is rising inside of her. The base of it originates from her core, the smoke rising up to keep the rest of her upper body warm too.  

“It wants to work with you,” Amren lets out a gasp as she starts to grind her own pussy down on Nesta’s leg which she has been stradling this whole time. Nesta bites her lip as she feels the moist beginnings of Amren’s own juices impressing upon her calf. The fingers of Amren’s right hand aren't moving, instead they keep a constant thread of pressure on her clit. Nesta’s poor clit, she can tell it’s desperate for attention, it sends constant pulses as if it is asking her to move to give it some sort of relief from all the stimulation Amren is providing.

Nesta watches Amren through the mirror. She can both see and feel Amren’s right hand splaying out across her stomach, using it for balance as she grinds against her calf and uses her other hand to attend to Nesta’s cunt. Despite the impressive multitasking that Amren already has going on, Nesta notices Amren’s assessing silver gaze is locked on her own, as if Amren is waiting for her to realize something. 

What though? Nesta wants to ask, but she refrains because she knows Amren won’t take it well. But how the fuck is she supposed to know what Amren wants? Amren is older than Prythian itself and Nesta has been High Fae for less than a year. All Nesta knows is that she is more turned on than she has ever been in her entire life, sitting completely in the nude between a mirror and the scantily dressed body of one of the people she feels the most comfortable around lately–which in itself is saying something as it is Amren she is talking about. 

“Look inside yourself,” Amren says as she slows the pace of her gyrations, “can’t you feel that you’re not alone?”

Nesta lets out another moan, closing her eyes as Amren starts driving the fingers that have been fixed on Nesta’s clit around, dragging her clit into a circular path. This, of course, causes Nesta’s hips to jerk into the motion, chasing after the pleasure. She also tries to decipher what exactly Amren means with her statement that ‘she’s not alone.’

It is quite hard to do so though when she feels like there’s a sweltering heat inside her body, begging for escape. Nesta has been horny before, she knows what it feels like. Cauldron knows that she has been a victim of it tonight. Fortunately, thanks to the overstimulation that Amren is so happily providing, Nesta is able to take a deeper look at what’s going on inside of her. 

Nesta closes her eyes, trying to center herself past the pleasure that’s overwhelming her senses. As she inhales, she ignores the rocking of Amren’s pussy back and forth on her calf, she ignores the sting of her painfully hard nipples, she ignores the rhythmic squelching coming from her own pussy as Amren’s hand keeps her lips in motion and pressure on her clit, Nesta ignores it all. As she channels into her soul, deep inside her, Nesta realizes that Amren is right, once again, she is clearly not alone. 

It’s a hard thing to describe, a soul. Nesta certainly isn’t expecting to find hers feeling like it's coated in some sort of substance similar to live-wire. It definitely seems to be working in overload–constricted behind some sort of mental block–the area around it seems electrically charged. She tries to paint a mental picture of it, of this charged substance locked deep inside her persona. Nesta thinks it could best be described as a worn steel cage that just barely contains a ball of pure energy. For some reason, Nesta’s gets a sudden feeling if something other than her tries to reach out for it, this hidden piece of her soul, fire would lash out through the holes in the cage, almost like an intentional solar flare. She mentally reaches towards it, trying to catch a read of it–and inwardly gasps as she realizes she recognizes it. 

“By the Cauldron,” Nesta gasps, coming back to the present with a jolt, the shock of her realization causing her to sit back on her calves–a space in which she notices Amren is no longer occupying–not being able to kneel properly any longer. She’s definitely sweating, she can feel its sheen gathering upon every inch of her body.

As she struggles to catch her breath, Nesta remembers something that Amren had said when she first was explaining the benefits of this whole ordeal to Nesta.

“Every being in this world has the potential for magic, child. Even some humans if they so chose to tap into that part of themselves. Its residue lies along the lines of the needs that unite all living creatures in all the worlds–eat, sleep, fuck. Your walls have been built too high, girl. It’s time we break them down.”

“Don’t you see now?” Nesta snaps her attention towards Amren, the female now standing, pressing her weight against the side of the mirror–one heeled boot crossed over the other–and inspecting the nails of her right hand, the one which had just been intimately involved with Nesta’s folds. 

Nesta decides to ignore the fact that she has no idea when Amren even left her prior position behind her. She’s so close to understanding what’s going on with her, she can taste it. She doesn’t even care that Amren stopped touching her right before she would have most definitely orgasmed–well, she does a little… a lot, but gaining control of herself and her power is much more important, she reminds herself.

“It’s my magic…” Nesta breathes, moving her hands to the floor behind her to support her weight. 

“It’s my…” Nesta trails off, noticing her own flushed appearance in the mirror.

“Yes,” Amren answers, redirecting Nesta’s attention back towards her, “it’s You, girl.”

This time, Nesta’s ire in response to Amren’s addressment of her is much more palpable, she can feel it crawling under her skin. How dare she, her inner voice speaks, louder than ever before.

“And Nesta,” Amren calls and Nesta turns her attention back towards her immediately, shock coloring her cheeks further. She can count the times that Amren has used her actual name on one hand. 

“Yes?” she asks before she has a chance to take the vision of her in, heart freezing as she registers what Amren is actually doing. 

Amren, still radiant in her lingerie, isn’t even looking at Nesta. Instead, she has her eyes closed, head tilted back against the edge of the mirror frame, and is actively humming. Nesta can do nothing but watch as Amren lifts her index and middle fingers–the ones belonging to the hand that the female had been inspecting previously–and brings it to her plump red lips.

Amren opens her eyes then, and Nesta once again finds herself trapped in the other’s primordial gaze. Amren moans again as she pushes them past her lips, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks on the digits before pulling them out–the action releasing a wet popping sound that seems very loud in the tiny room, the only other sound being Nesta’s increasingly rapid breathing.

“It tastes good,” Amren replies simply, as if she didn’t just do one of the sexiest things Nesta has ever witnessed, “you, taste good.”

“I’ll be right back,” Amren says, disappearing behind the mirror–the one that is so large that Nesta didn’t even know the closet extended further behind it until just now. She doesn’t really care about her abrupt departure though, not when Amren’s words have just launched her into what feels like a state of estrus. 

There is a new wave of boiling heat inside of her. Nesta knows that this heat is different, it almost stings yet it is somehow still satisfying, it’s comforting, and it vibrates against seemingly every possible organ inside her body. She can do nothing but gasp as she feels her magic finally free itself from its steel trap. This power, her power feels just right inside her veins, like her heart needs it just as much as it needs oxygen. 

It’s about time, the magic chides her, and Nesta is overcome by feelings of regret. How could she have denied this part of herself for so long. She understands why Amren was so insistent upon helping her now, why she had been so disappointed in her. Nesta clutches her breast to try to ground herself as she feels her soul reuniting with her heart underneath the skin.��

Of course though, the serene moment is broken by Amren who throws a pile of clothes at her face, breaking Nesta from her trance. This time, Nesta is ready to snap at Amren, in sync with her newly awakened power. 

“Now stand up!” Amren orders. Nesta tries not to let her temper get the best of her as she slowly rises, still able to feel the other’s wetness from where it leaked against her calf. Amren speaks again before Nesta actually has a chance to rip her head off, though.

“Put this on, this is taking a little longer than I was initially anticipating,” Amren says before she promptly disappears behind the mirror yet again. Nesta’s inner irritation quickly dims as she notes a slight tinge of concern dimming Amren’s usually confident eyes. Nesta remembers then, she and Amren are not the only two participants of tonight’s activities. Where exactly is Varian? Nesta wants to find out.

She quickly puts on the clothes that Amren picks out for her and slips her feet into an expensive looking pair of black stilettos. As she starts to turn around so that she can get a good look at herself in the mirror, Nesta can’t help but ponder about how the hell Amren knows her shoe size. She assumes the tiny fae must have bullied Azriel or someone into finding out the correct size instead of just asking Nesta outright, which actually sounds like a very ‘Amren-type-thing’ to do now that she thinks about it.

Nesta’s jaw drops as she comes face-to-face with her reflection. Amren has dressed her in a black wet-look teddy which features a low cut open bust, a criss cross neck, gold zip up front, cut out sides, criss cross back straps with O-ring details, a tie back, and a cheeky cut bottom. The way the teddy sits on her emphasizes all her curves in the best way possible, Nesta thinks as she raises her arms to adjust her hair. There is no hiding the monstrous size of her breasts with this low cut open bust. There is a perfect path of bare skin that travels from between her tits down to the visible zipper of the front. Fuck, Nesta thinks as she shifts slightly to see the back of the teddy, she looks delicious. The realization causes the already blistering temperature inside of her to somehow elevate even more. 

“If you’re finished getting dressed, come back here!” she hears Amren call from behind the mirror. With the added height provided by Nesta’s heels, she is sure that the size difference between the two females will return to the usual. Still, Amren’s presence is so strong and foreboding–especially tonight–that Nesta would rather die than point this out to her friend. Still, Nesta follows Amren’s order without question and feels a gasp escape her lips as she steps past the edge of the frame which Amren has been hanging around all night. 

“Oh my,” Nesta can’t help but say as she takes another step into the hidden part of the closet that she and Amren have been spending so much time in this evening. Lining each and every single shelf in front of her is the widest variety of sex toys that Nesta has ever seen. She always suspected that Amren was a hoarder, however, when she first formed that suspicion Nesta was thinking more along the lines of jewelry. She is not entirely sure what she should make of the display of dildos, paddles, chains, straps, vibrators, and plenty more in front of her. 

“Wha-How long have you been collecting all of this?” Nesta asks, unable to stop herself. She turns towards Armen who has been waiting for her, leaning against the only wall in this little hidden area without any shelfs occupying it.

“I’ve been alive a long time,” Amren replies, mirth filling her gaze. Nesta considers that to be a fair response.

“Anyway,” Amren starts, pushing herself off of the wall and strutting forward until she stops right in front of Nesta, “pick what calls to you, girl.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta asks for clarity while trying to keep her inner beast in-check. Nesta doesn’t even know where to begin. However, she remembers that this isn’t her first time racking her mind to try to find something that Amren has told her to, Nesta thinks back to when she was trying to feel out the location of the Ouroboros. She also ignores the utter ridiculousness of Amren’s request, does she really want Nesta to tap into this great power of hers just to find the perfect sex toy? One thing she has learned throughout her relatively short time being friends with Amren is that the other female always has her reasons. Nesta supposes she will try to do as she’s asked.

“It’s quite simple. Your magic is awake now, let it guide you,” Amren coos before brushing past Nesta, purposely bumping into her shoulder as she passes by. 

“You look great in that by the way.” Nesta jolts as a quick slap meets the flesh of her ass, turning around to find Amren laughing. She will not deny she enjoys the warmth that emerges from the affected area of her skin after the impromptu spanking. However, Nesta eyes the other female with a glare, she swears she’s never been more willing to attempt to tear Amren's throat out then she is right now. Nesta isn’t even entirely sure why, usually her subconscious would make itself known at this point to try to guide her away from such a rash decision. However, now that her soul is complete, Nesta cannot feel anything within her aside from a pleased rumble of agreement. 

“How will I know?” Nesta asks, turning back towards the treasure trove of sex toys displayed before her. 

“There is only so much I can tell you, try trusting your instincts,” Amren answers softly, the sound of her footsteps echoing as she takes a couple steps back, clearly giving Nesta space to work with.

Nesta inhales a deep breath before exhaling softly, closing her eyes so that she can try and concentrate. Nesta lifts her hands–palms up–and holds them there, her elbows remaining in a position at about the same height as her waist. She tunes out the room around her and focuses in on the flames that have been joyfully traveling around her body ever since she finally accepted their presence, she focuses in on her power, tapping into the electric bundle at her core and then refocusing her energy on the area in front of her. 

As she mentally scans the toys with her power–eyes still closed–she hopes that she is able to tap into whatever instincts Amren is referring to. As she keeps scanning though, she feels the electricity inside her getting more painful as she gets closer to a certain area. Here, Nesta knows where to go. She keeps her eyes closed as she moves in that direction, each step causing the stinging to travel to a new area of her body. Finally, Nesta opens her eyes as her stiletto covered toe meets the edge of the shelf of toys.

The sight of a black riding crop makes her mouth water, yes this, we need to use this, we need to keep others in line. To make things even better, the crop had a beautiful diamond encrusted handle. Before she has a chance to pick it up, Nesta realizes her power isn’t done screaming at her, something more, we need something else. 

“I need to pick another,” Nesta turns her head over her shoulder slightly to make eye-contact with Amren, noting that her silver eyes blink slightly in surprise before she shrugs her bare shoulders.

“As I’ve been saying the whole time, listen to your instincts,” Amren steps back up to the shelf next to Nesta, gesturing for her to carry on with her business as Amren picks up the riding crop to hold for her. 

Nesta turns back around to follow the second trail of sparks that had been nagging at her. Only after she picked up the riding crop did Nesta actually realize that she was meant to be following two different paths. Not that it matters anymore, now she knows what to do. Nesta doesn’t even bother to close her eyes, instead she makes her way straight for the shelf of strap-ons, her sights locked on this massive red dildo. 

Nesta is a bit confused though once she gets closer, although it satisfies her instincts–the fact that this is the thickest dildo she has ever seen in her life makes her clit throb–she can’t help but notice the inside of it is hollow. Nesta picks up the toy and turns back around again to ask Amren what it is.

“Oh!” Amren’s eyes light up in delight as she eyes what Nesta is holding, “I haven’t had a chance to use that with him yet, this is wonderful!”

“Why is it hollow though?” Nesta asks, a bit nervous about the fact that she thinks Amren actually skips as she makes her way over to grab the toy from Nesta. She also tries not to focus on the fact that she thinks this is the most excited she has ever seen Amren outside of her talks with Lucien about whatever sport it is that they both like. 

“Oh child,” Amren starts, the term once again annoying Nesta and causes her to roll her eyes, “this isn’t a strap on for you.”

Nesta shoots her head back up at the ancient one’s words. Oh?

She eyes Amren, who is stalling at the edge of the mirror frame.

“It’s for him,” Amren grins at her, a mischievous spark in her eye. Nesta feels another wave of heat wash over her entire body as she imagines the implications of this knowledge. However, Nesta also gets hit with a sudden sense of insecurity as Amren leaves the hidden section of the closet.

“Amren, I have a question,” Nesta calls out as she follows her. As she crosses into the other section, she spies Amren placing the toys that Nesta has selected in one of the empty spaces on the shelves between candle displays, the tiny fae’s back turned away from her. Amren sighs and lets her head hang forward before turning around to meet Nesta’s gaze. 

“What is it now, girl?” Amren is no longer hiding her impatience, not even bothering to reprimand Nesta for failing to call her Mistress. Nesta doesn’t feel bad though, how could she when she finally feels like she belongs in her own body. There is one question she still needs to ask.

“How do I know that this magic is truly my own? How do I know this was meant to belong to me?” Nesta has never felt better or more like she belongs in her body than this moment in time, she is just worried that this is a trick, that it won’t stay that way, that she’s not strong enough.

Amren glares at her as soon as Nesta finishes spitting out the question, visibly incredulous that she had the gall to even ask the question.

"I have watched many a reign come and go girl, you dare question me?" Nesta gulps as Amren storms up to her, no longer teasing in her grip as she grabs Nesta’s arm and swings her around so that she faces the mirror again. 

“I thought we went over this already but let me try to explain it one more time,” Nesta sees Amren frown through the reflection, the tiny fae standing on Nesta’s left side this time rather than behind her because of the added height of Nesta’s stilettos. 

“Close your eyes!” Amren orders. Nesta does. 

“What do you feel?” she asks, holding Nesta at the waist as she massages little circles into the skin of Nesta’s hips, visible through the cutouts of her teddy.

Nesta sighs before emptying her mind, trying to focus purely on her inner core.

“I feel fire, it's everywhere. My nipples are hard, my pussy is wet, and it feels like my flesh is being scorched from within, I want-” Nesta cuts herself off. She wants so much. She wants to dominate, she wants to take, she wants to own, Nesta can’t even keep up with all the urges running past her mind, she knows for sure though that she’s never felt more hungry than she is in this moment. 

“Open your eyes, girl," Amren orders just as Nests feels like the fire in her chest is about to break past her ribcage. Again, if it was any other time Nesta would rip her a new one for continuing to call her ‘girl’. Now though, what other option does she have other than to listen?

Nesta opens her eyes and is met with their reflection, flames clearly dancing within her gray-blue hues. 

"Your power wants to work with you,” Amren hisses, splaying one of her hands on the bare skin below Nesta’s breasts, “it's meant for you to wield."

 "Feel this?" Amren presses her palm into the region above Nesta’s pelvic bone, the added pressure sending waves of pleasure towards her cunt, her nipples raging with electricity as they beg for similar attention. 

“Feel how good it aches," Amren whispers, moving her other hand to play with the zipper on Nesta’s front. She cries out a moan as Amren adds even more pressure to the area above her pelvic region, I do feel. 

"Feel how it makes your body cry for more?" she asks, and Nesta is starving. 

"This is what true power feels like girl, this is the feeling that men climb, cry and fight for, but they always fail," Amren brings her lips to Nesta’s ear and Nesta would be lying if she says she’s anything other than horny as fuck. 

"But us," Amren whispers, her soft breath causing Nesta to become somehow even more sensitive than before. Amren removes her hands from Nesta’s lower body and instead brings them up to slide beneath the fabric of her teddy, the cut providing easy access to her breasts. 

"Creatures like you and I…," Amren continues to whisper, squeezing Nesta’s breasts a couple times as Nesta feels even more wetness pool between her folds.

"We will prevail," Amren whispers, leaving a kiss under Nesta’s ear before letting go of her and backing away, out of the mirror’s line of vision. 

“I see” Nesta closes her eyes once more and reflects. She finally thinks she gets it now, at least for the most part. Because how can she deny who she is any longer? Who is she to decide that she isn’t meant to be here? The magic is in her now, it breathes with her and it craves her every waking desire. Her journey in this new world has been like a battle between Nesta’s old beliefs, her family, and the grim reality seemingly standing before her. Now though, Nesta Archeon is done being afraid. 

She opens her eyes only to immediately realize the lighting in the room has changed. The flickering yellow-orange flames from Amren’s candles are no more, in their stead, to Nesta’s utter astonishment, are silver flames, casting the room in a flickering white glow instead. In a similar tune, almost as if her magic is rejoicing at her inner revelation, Nesta feels another round of flames lick up her inner viscera, making her insides feel warm and comforting like a hearth. This body is no vessel, it is her own flesh and blood.

“I believe it's time,” Amren says quietly, softly, like she doesn’t want to accidentally startle Nesta into closing herself off from her magic again.

“I’m ready,” Nesta replies in the same tone, nodding at Amren through the mirror to show her that she is genuinely grateful for her assistance. It is actually quite insane to think that all it took to set her head straight was to be brought to the edge of an orgasm.

“I’ll give you a minute, I’ll be waiting in the hall.”

Nesta inhales as she nods in acknowledgement, once again admiring Amren’s petite figure as the female makes her way to exit the small room. Nesta feels yet another bout of heat spurn within her as she spies Amren grabbing the toys that Nesta has selected to use for tonight before she leaves.

“Remember what you can be, girl,” Amren tosses over her shoulder just before the door slams behind her, setting silence upon the tiny room where Nesta still stands. She waits a moment, listening. Judging by the increasingly quiet clack of the tiny Fae’s heels on the wooden floor, Nesta presumes that Amren is going to place them wherever she has stashed Varian thus far. 

Nesta closes her eyes, reveling in the swirling thrum of sparks inside her, she would like to think that it is her inner beast coming to say hello, she really would. But Nesta is an intelligent woman…an intelligent woman who knows that the jump in her arousal is most definitely because she notices that the strap-on–the massive hollow toy that she intends to use tonight–is close to over half the length of Amren’s forearm. And the thickness… cauldron. She knows that a male-strap-on has to have a certain level of thickness in regards to the girth because it has to allow for a cock to fill its hollow opening. However–Nesta thinks as she opens her eyes, seeing the flames inside them staring back at her through the mirror in front of her–she wonders exactly what type of toy is hanging between Varian’s legs that requires a dildo as thick as her wrist. She is witness to her own reflection as a devilish grin forms on her own mouth–Nesta is more than ready to leave all that was before in this room. 

“It’s time,” Nesta speaks aloud to the empty room. She refuses to let herself cower in the face of power ever again, especially when it's her own. Nesta straightens her posture, taking one last look at her reflection.  

It’s time to take what she needs.

___Preview of Next Chapter____

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, did we leave you alone too long,” Amren coos to her lover. Varian sits exposed on a simple wooden chair in the middle of the couple’s bedroom. The Summer Court male’s head is hanging low, his white tendrils of hair acting like a shield in front of his face. Nesta did not pick up on any sort of response from the male that indicates that he acknowledges their presence. She takes a quick peek over at Amren and decides not to worry after finding the other female to seem emphatically unconcerned. Nesta watches on silently as the tiny fae takes a couple soft predatory steps towards the subdued male. Nonetheless, she stills to take in the view of the delicious specimen of man in front of her. Nesta can admit fully that she has never really given much thought to Varian before, not really having much time to assess him in the short three months after the war with Hybern. However, now, she can’t seem to look away from the large male’s thick muscular thighs, his heavy cock, his beautiful dark skin–fuck, Nesta feels her cunt throb in anticipation. 

“Baby boy,” Amren releases another coo, causing Varian to finally raise his gaze to meet his Mistresses and causing Nesta to shiver for a different reason entirely. Now, not only does she have a better view of the male himself, a white blindfold and ball gag rendering his sight and ability to speak obsolete; but also she can see his nostrils flaring and his muscles twitching. Nesta is absolutely enraptured in the scene in front of her as she watches Varian suddenly seem to try to lunge in Amren’s direction, the man trying and failing to get closer to her, his muscles bulging in their effort to win a one-sided battle against his restraints.

But it isn’t until Nesta spots Varian’s collar, large and heavy on his neck, that she feels her nipples harden and another bout of wetness starting to form between her folds. Here, on Varian’s neck, in Amren’s apartment in Velaris, is one of the Summer Court’s infamous blood rubies. The massive jewel's weight was supported by a two-inch thick diamond encrusted platinum band. She knows it must sit heavy on his neck, it seems almost impossible that a jewel that large could be fixed upon a collar without falling, yet there it stands.

Last Nesta had checked, the source material of Prythian’s most common nightmares had decided to use this ‘threat’ as a paperweight. Although, she can’t deny how much the pathway to her center steams at the thought of the Summer Court male being made to wear a sign of ownership stamped with the ultimate symbol of betrayal of his own court, an invocation of  a feud on a personal level.  

Nesta can’t help but muse over what the thrill of incurring such a depth of loyalty from another must taste like, she wonders too, greedily and needily what it feels like to be such a fearsome predator to surpass the laws of societal expectation. Is this Amren’s subtle yet personal way of invoking her own feud, a remnant of the possessive creature that once roamed inside of her that is furious at the land for claiming ownership of something that she marked as hers. She also wonders heatedly, enviously, what it would be like to be wanted that furiously. Need starts to play at the strings of her core, she can feel it heating and readying itself for something more.

“Don’t be shy now, boy,” Amren instructs Varian, the man immediately turning his head in the direction of her voice, clearly desperate for her touch. Nesta would be lying if she said the palpable smell and taste of his desperation didn’t cause her clit to start to throb.

The sweetness of the pair in front of her simultaneously puts Nesta on edge as well as incurs yet another thrum of heat inside of her. Amren is never sweet. Nesta watches on as her mentor finally reaches her lover–no, her pet. Amren looks Varian up and down with a hungry gleam in her eye before grabbing his chin roughly, causing what sounds like a gruff moan to escape the large man’s lips. That’s all it took? Nesta thinks to herself. 

“You haven’t even been touched boy and you’re already sweating?” Amren tuts, roughly maneuvering his chin as she gives him a thorough inspection, the male seemingly keening into the contact despite its roughness. Nesta tries not to get whiplash as Amren softly pats the male’s cheek twice with her free hand before letting it drop to rest on her waist.

“Pathetic,” the ancient one scoffs, finally releasing her other hand’s grip on his chin. 

Nesta realizes that the male in front of her is not the same one that has been a frequent guest at their dinner table over the last couple of months. No, tonight she is not looking at the same captain of Tarquin’s guard nor the commendable battle tactician that she has come to know. Instead, Nesta finds herself looking at Amren’s pet. As soon as the thought crosses her mind though, Nesta is hit by a shudder that rolls through her entire body, a shock of a reprimand from something deep in her core, something primal.No, Nesta reprimands herself, straightening her posture as she starts to make her own way towards Varian. Tonight, he is her prey.

_______________________

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher @yanny-77 @pippsmcgee @fieldofdaisiies

[fluff-a-nutter]

I got a request.......... Rapunzel and Eugene give Varian a tickle attack when he was feeling down

Of course! Enjoy! <33

Today had not been Varian’s best day. He’d ruined his blueprint for upgrades for his hot water system, spilled chemicals all over his ham sandwich, and just now he slipped and fell on the freshly waxed floor, much to Old Lady Crowley’s annoyance.

“You ignorant child! Can’t you see I just waxed there?! Hmmph, they should have left you to rot in prison, boy.”

That last comment was the last straw. Varian stood up, mumbled an apology, and walked off before the old crone saw his tears.

He kept his head down and walked straight into Rapunzel and Eugene, who steadied him with his hands on his shoulders.

“Woah, Hairstripe, what’s the rush?”

The captain of the guards asked, noting Varian’s downcast look and sharing a worried look with his wife.

“N-no where. Excuse me.”

Varian mumbled, trying to dodge around the rulers of Corona.

Rapunzel stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Varian are you okay? You seem down.”

The Queen said, his emerald eyes filled with concern for her friend.

Varian plastered on a forced smile.

“I-I’m fine, Rapunzel, really! Just…. Just a rough day, y’know.”

His forced smile faltered and he rubbed his arm self consciously.

Rapunzel and Eugene shared a look. They knew exactly how to cheer their friend up.

“Well Goggles, it just so happens that Rapunzel and I have the perfect way to cheer you up!”

Eugene said, scooping Varian up under his arms from behind. Varian screeched in surprise, flailing around.

“Wha- Hey! Put me down, Eugene!”

“No can do, kid. Not until Rapunzel and I see you smiling again.”

Rapunzel grinned and walked over to Varian, who was still held in the air by Eugene. She wiggled her fingers in front of the boy playfully.

“Operation cheer up Varian is a-go!” She trilled, wiggling her fingers against Varian’s sides, eliciting a sharp squeal of laughter.

“WHAHAHAHA- RAHPUHUNZEHEL! NOHOHOHO!”

Varian writhed in Eugene’s grip, but he only succeeded in causing his shirt to ride up and expose his bare stomach, which Rapunzel instantly pounced on.

Adding to the playful torment, Eugene pressed his face against the side of Varian’s neck and blew raspberries, his scruffy goatee intensifying the sensation tenfold.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! LET ME GOHOHOHOHOO! PLEAHEHEHEASE!”

Varian begged, squirming in vain to escape the tickles.

“Nope! Laughter is the best medicine and as your queen and best friend, Eugene and I recommend a high dose!”

Rapunzel teased, pressing a finger inside Varian’s belly button and swirling it around, sending the poor alchemist into fits of belly laughter.

Between the tummy tickles from Rapunzel and the neck raspberries from Eugene, Varian was in absolute stitches. He kicked and flailed, but Eugene’s grip didn’t budge.

“OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! I’M NOHOHOT SAHAD ANYMORE! PLEAHEAHEHEASE! STOHOHOHOP!”

“Hmmmm….. I don’t know, Eugene. Do you think he’s had enough?”

“Well, Sunshine, he can’t stop giggling, so perhaps just one more dose of tickles will suffice.”

Eugene and Rapunzel shared a teasing look before they launched a final tickle attack on poor Varian.

Eugene blew more raspberries onto Varian’s neck, while Rapunzel blew raspberries onto his tummy and dug her fingers into his sides and ribs.

Varian let out one final peal of shrieking laughter before descending into silent hiccups and wheezes.

Only then did Eugene release Varian from his hold and Rapunzel tugged his shirt back down, smoothing out the wrinkles in a sisterly fashion.

Varian was a breathless, giggling mess.

“Thahahanks guys.”

He wheezes out, sliding to the floor.

Rapunzel and Eugene smiled and wrapped the boy in a group hug.

It wasn’t long before the three of them were fast asleep in an impromptu cuddle pile, the smile never leaving Varian’s face.

I’m so soft for this found family. Thanks for reading!

[nerdasaurus1200]

Varian: So as I was saying, it’s- GET YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM THAT BUTTON! YOU WILL KILL US ALL IF YOU TOUCH THAT BUTTON!!!!

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

koa is my child 🥹🫶🏻 also i finished the video game au, its here

part fifteen

❝ EXPLODING GATORADE ❞

MONDAY — JULY 23 — 8:01AM

THE DINING HALL WAS THE SINGLE LARGEST ROOM BENTLEY HAD EVER SEEN IN HIS WHOLE LIFE.

It had to be, like, two whole gymnasiums put together. The whole thing had this old, restored hardwood, the walls lined with dark wainscoting. There were iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling that had to cost more than his internal organs, and there were at least, like, three hundred fancy wooden tables peppered across the room.

Bentley blinked. There were lots of uniformed students in there (probably, like, a few hundred), filling the room with an overlapping buzz of excited voices, moving here and there, from table to table.

Redwood Academy also had the absolute bane of his entire existence -- a food line.

Bentley hated food lines.

As soon as they entered the dining hall, Valor, who was leading the pack (and getting stared at, because apparently even metahumans weren't very used to wings.) plopped his bag down at one of the tables closest to the door.

"Man, the line is already closed," He muttered. Which had to be the single most pleasant thing Bentley had heard all morning. At this point, he'd take absolutely anything to help ease his crippling anxiety.

“We did leave over half an hour after we were supposed to,” Koa replied, putting his bag on the round table, too, with a thump. Bentley followed behind them and chose a random wooden chair — Varian ended up to his left, Bellamy to his right. Asten was straight across.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day,” Varian said from Bentley���s side — he looked… not so dead anymore. Presentable, with a little actual color to his skin and life to his eyes. He pulled his red backpack off his back and unzipped it, stuck his hand in, and retracted it with a whole box of s'mores flavored pop-tarts that he tossed on the table. “Ta-da.”

Bentley almost wondered why he carried around so many pop tarts, but he guessed it was incase his blood sugar went low throughout the day. Bentley was starting to understand him a little more — if the machine said it was low, eat. If it said it was high, push buttons.

That was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. (But it was more than it had been, like, two days ago. Which was good.)

Valor grabbed the box of pop-tarts and pulled one out, passing it along to Rockie.

“Does anyone have Ms. Heidi for English first period?” Koa questioned, pulling a schedule out of his pocket that already looked crumpled and torn, like it had been through a war. “I think I might die in her class alone.”

Bentley blinked, pulling his phone out of his blazer pocket and clicking it on. (He definitely hadn’t made his schedule his lockscreen wallpaper so he didn’t have to keep up with the page… and his home screen wallpaper definitely wasn’t the map of the campus buildings…)

He hummed in acknowledgment when he scanned the teacher’s name under his first period class. “I do.”

"Thank goodness," Koa breathed, grabbing the pop-tart box as Rockie handed it to him, pulling one out and sliding it to Asten. "We can suffer together."

Bentley wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant.

"I have math first," Rockie announced with a shudder. He had already given up on opening his pop-tarts the right way and was now just shaking the bag violently, creating a loud rustling noise that made heads from a few surrounding tables turn. "Who wants to do math at eight in the morning?"

"Literally no one," Valor replied. Rockie's pop-tart flew out of his hand and hit Koa in the side of the head, to which Koa replied by impulsively throwing his own package of pop-tarts back at him. They hit Rockie's head with a flap and fell into his lap.

Bentley stayed quiet, watching the pop-tart box move from Asten, to Varian, and then to him. There was only one pack left by the time it made it to him.

He pulled it out, set the empty box on the table, and held it out toward Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at the silver package with a few shocked blinks, then shifted his gaze to Bentley, like he half expected him to snatch it away and laugh in his face as soon as he reached for it. Bentley didn't move -- only looked back at Bellamy for a quiet moment.

Eventually, Bellamy's gaze broke away from his own, and he slowly slid it out of his fingertips.

"I have trigonometry this year. Which translates to actual living hell," Valor muttered, taking a bite out of one of his pop-tarts. "And not a soul I know is in it with me."

"Ugh -- that's rough," Varian grumbled.

There was a sudden skidding noise, and Bentley looked down just in time to catch a pack of pop-tarts that was sliding across the table to him. When he glanced up, his eyes met Asten's.

He slid them back.

Valor kept talking, but Bentley didn't hear. He was too focused on the fact that Asten had narrowed his emerald eyes into nothing more than slits and was glaring at him like he'd cut off all his hair while he was sleeping.

Asten slid them back, again.

Bentley scrunched up his face at him, but Asten kept on glaring, like he was just daring him to slide them back. He got this triumphant look on his face when Bentley reached up and peeled open the silver packaging, pulling out one of the tarts.

Then he slid the other one back to him.

Asten feigned another glare as he caught the silver package, but said nothing; and even despite all the glowering he was doing, he never slid it back.

Bentley took a small bite out of the corner of the tart, which tasted like cardboard and very fake chocolate.

"You're eating these without a toaster? Psychotic, all of you," Koa grumbled, though he, too, was opening his package. "What a bunch of weirdos."

"No one puts pop-tarts in the toaster!" Varian argued, and Koa made an exasperated sound.

"They're called pop-tarts because they pop! Out of a toaster!"

“You’re canceled,”

Bentley simply watched the exchange play out in front of him, keeping quiet. If he listened hard enough, he could hear other conversations from around the room, and if he listened harder than that, he could hear hundreds of heartbeats. He made purposefully sure not to listen that hard.

Instead, he watched the other students move about the room. They were all wearing uniforms that matched his, except the girls were wearing green and gold checkered skirts that he was pretty sure some had rolled at the top so they were purposefully shorter.

There wasn’t much personalization that could be done with their uniforms, so most students seemed to take liberties with other things, like jewelry, makeup, and hair. There were a lot more kids at Redwood with colored hair than there had been at Gotham Academy. Asten had stuck out like a sore thumb there with his blue hair, but here, he sort of fit in — just in the dining hall alone, Bentley could see heads of blue, green, red, pink, and orange peppered across the room. Some of the girls wore dainty, pretty jewelry, while others covered every available part of their faces and ears with piercings, and had their wrists completely hidden from view by bracelets. There were some girls he wasn’t even sure what their faces looked like through all their makeup — and while there had been a few of those at Gotham, there were not nearly as many as there were at Redwood.

(He did guess Redwood was in New York, though — which probably made a big difference in variety. It took a special kind of person to settle down and have kids in Gotham.)

A few more minutes passed where he simply listened to his roommates chatter about everything and nothing, continuously glancing at the time on his phone. It felt like hours of listening and staring and checking until the time flicked from 7:54am to 7:55am, and a loud bell emanated through the hall, bouncing off the walls and echoing out the doors.

Everyone moved at once -- including everyone at his table -- the already loud chatter increasing in volume. Bentley stood and gathered his things with a sigh, shoving the rest of his half eaten pop-tart in his mouth. His first class was English, which was in the Austen building, he thought, which was… somewhere outside. Among the dozens of other buildings that all looked the same.

The seven of them integrated into the crowd of students moving like a school of fish toward the doors, and Bentley made sure to keep Koa’s curly blonde hair in his view, because he seemed to know where he was going.

As they worked their way out of the building with what seemed like every other teenager in the world, all packed into the halls like sardines, Bentley felt a tug on his blazer sleeve.

When he glanced down, Bellamy had the fabric balled up in one of his hands, staying close by his side to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

Bentley let him.

—

Completely unbeknownst to Bentley, the Austen building was all the way across the entire campus. Which left him and Koa no other option but literally running to make it there on time — which most of the students were also doing, so at least they didn’t look out of place. Bentley was one-hundred percent sure they looked like they’d just survived a hurricane by the time they stumbled through the doors of the building, and he was thankful there were no teachers in the nearly-empty halls to give them dirty looks about running indoors. The place looked very similar to the dorm buildings, though the halls were swirling by so quickly Bentley didn’t have much time to look in much detail — hardwood, fancy lights, and dark wainscoting was about all he really managed to catch.

He and Koa pounded up a few flights of wooden stairs, Bentley staying right on his heels. He’d said he knew where he was going, so he was relying on him entirely — thankfully, it paid off.

They crossed the threshold of a classroom Bentley definitely wouldn’t be able to find his way back to, mere milliseconds before the late bell rang.

(He was never leaving the dorm after seven again.)

Unsurprisingly, they seemed to be the last ones there. The room was large, set up like a lecture hall with several ascending levels of tables that were all curved to face a center podium. There was almost a whole wall of windows, one of which was open to let the breeze in. There had to be at least twenty-five other students in there, chattering softly, and even when he scanned the teacher’s desk nestled into the front corner of the room, there was no teacher in sight. All eyes were immediately on them -- Bentley took to scanning for empty seats instead of looking at anyone, which rewarded him with an empty two-person table in the very back left corner of the room, on the highest level.

Koa seemed to see it, too, because he was making his way there before Bentley even got a chance to move.

He followed behind, painfully aware of all the dozens of eyes that were on him, keeping his gaze glued to the hardwood that was moving under his feet. (Of course they’d be the last ones to class on their first day, looking ridiculous because they’d just run full-speed across the entire campus. Why wouldn’t they?)

He and Koa made it to the back desk without doing anything dumb, like falling or embarrassing themselves.

Bentley took a seat in the rightmost wooden chair and hung his backpack on the back of it. He took a minute to scan the room in better detail, this time -- all the available wallspace was taken up by various posters of musicals, plays, books, and the like. The desk in the front corner was littered with little figures and knick-knacks that looked really weird and confusing. There was a bookshelf shoved against the wall in every spot there could be, full of colorful hardcovers, a giant, multicolored rug spread on the lowest level beneath the podium, and curtains varying in color on all of the windows. It was then that he noticed the tables were numbered, too -- the one he and Koa had claimed had a blue laminated paper stuck on it, with the number 14 written on in fancy calligraphy.

“Where’s the teacher?” Bentley questioned softly, glancing over at Koa and unzipping his bag. He pulled out a blue binder that he had dubbed his English binder.

Koa sighed lightly when he sat down in his chair, pulling out a small ringed notebook from his bag.  “You’ll see.”

Bentley said nothing; but, for the record, he did not enjoy the cryptic responses.

“Have you had her class before?” He continued, and Koa glanced over at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I had her last year. She’s very… eccentric,”

“What’s that mean?”

“Weird,”

Well, at least she wasn’t going to kidnap them and turn them into metahumans, Bentley thought sourly. The class continued to sit and chatter, reveling in the newfound freedom of, apparently, having no professor at all. There were two tables of girls a few rows in front of them that kept giggling and looking back, their faces flushing pink every time they stole a glance to their table. There was a table of two boys next to them, too, who kept looking at the girls, then across the room at Bentley and Koa like they were considering murder.

It didn’t take a genius to realize those girls were utterly mesmerized by Koa. (Why wouldn’t they be? He was California.)

As much as Bentley expected him to make some kind of response, he just sighed, turning to face him instead. “So… how are you liking Redwood so far?” Was what he came up with to say, though Bentley was pretty sure he was just trying to get those girls to stop being so weird about him.

Bentley shrugged, glancing down at his binder. “I mean, I like it. I like you and our roommates, but the party thing was a little… stressful.”

Koa shrugged. “I get that. Sorry, by the way. I guess we should’ve given it some thought before going and getting everyone drunk with new kids in the dorm.”

“It’s okay,” Was all Bentley said. “You don’t have to change what you do on my account.”

Koa shrugged, glancing down at his notebook. “Not just you -- I’m pretty sure Bellamy is traumatized.”

“Why?” Bentley questioned. Koa glanced back up at him with a shrug.

“He was sleeping on the couch when Valor started dragging us all back to the dorm. We were all pretty sick and out of it, woke him up. He ran to his room and I’m… pretty sure he started crying. But I’m not sure why,” Koa admitted, blinking at the table beneath his hands. “He’s… I don't know. Seems really… young. I’m not sure why they roomed him with us. I think he’s horrified of all of us except you.”

Bentley shrugged lightly. Why, of all people, did Bellamy gravitate toward him? He wasn’t like Dick, or Jason, or Bruce, or any of the people he gravitated to when he was younger.

No, he was like Tim. Tim who had anxiety, too, who thought he was a burden, who wanted the very best for everybody but himself. Tim who dealt with the same things Bentley dealt with, who knew what to do because he’d been through it, too. 

Was that why Bellamy…?

“Do you think he’d be more comfortable with kids his age?” Bentley questioned, glancing down at his binder, then back up at Koa.

Koa shrugged, repeatedly flicking the pages of his notebook. “I’m not sure he’d be comfortable anywhere. Feeling safe at this school is a process for everyone, since pretty much none of us have pleasant backgrounds.”

Bentley hummed in agreement, quietly noting the fact that Koa had basically admitted to not having a pleasant background, tabling that fact in the back of his mind. He didn’t know much about Koa, really, other than the fact that he was from California and lived with a really young guy who took care of him. He wondered where he came from.

Suddenly, a crumpled up piece of letter paper hit Koa in the back of the head with a quiet thwack, bouncing down onto their table. Bentley blinked, glancing across the room to see who it’d come from -- the four girls were now quieter, facing forward, and the two boys were watching them like hawks with these mischievous looks on their faces.

Koa rolled his eyes, grabbing the paper and unraveling it. Bentley could see words and a drawing faintly from the underside, but he couldn’t quite make it out. So he paid attention to his expression instead, watching carefully as Koa scanned the words, seeming mostly unbothered -- but his eyes widened slightly when they flicked down to the drawing. He kept his expression closely bridled, probably to not give the other boys the satisfaction they wanted, but Bentley was in-tune enough with the subtleties of people's mannerisms (thanks to his father.) that he didn’t miss the quiet inhale Koa sucked in upon first glance at the doodle, the way his eyebrows pitched inward the slightest bit. Bentley heard those other boys laughing and muttering from across the room.

Koa crumbled up the paper again and shoved it in his blazer pocket, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t look at anyone, either.

Bentley glanced over at the pair of boys, who were chuckling and laughing amongst themselves. The left one, one with black hair and dead, brown eyes, turned back toward Koa and made a sad face where he puckered his bottom lip out. Then he laughed with his friend and reached into his bag, withdrawing a bottle of red Gatorade. 

So Bentley just sat there, looking awfully innocent as the drink all but exploded in his face with a pop. Red liquid went everywhere -- up his nose, in his hair, all over his uniform and the table and his friend. The girls next to them burst into laughter, as did most of the other students around the room.

Koa blinked a few times, then glanced over at Bentley, who looked back at him and shrugged lightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of Koa’s lips, and Bentley watched the boy rise from his desk, wiping his red-coated face with the also-soaked sleeves of his blazer. “What the hell, McClaine?!”

Koa shrugged innocently. “You know what my powers are -- I didn’t do a thing.”

Apparently, Bentley either looked too innocent and harmless, or the mean guy didn’t want to waste time on him -- because he marched out of the classroom, closely followed by his friend, and left all the other students catching their breath from laughter. 

Koa glanced over at him, smiling lightly. “Thanks,” He whispered, though it still had sort of a sad sound to it, if he listened hard enough.

Bentley smiled faintly back at him. “You’re welcome.”

--

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere @skylathescholarly @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[fieldofdaisiies]

This Is Halloween

Azris, Elucien, Nessian, Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, Feysand & Nyx, Jassa, Amren, Varian etc. type: fluff word count: 2k words warnings: little vulgar wording summary: Halloween special

"I want you to wear this tonight." Eris gently reaches around Azriel's chest from behind, his fingers sliding over the row of buttons, fastening one after the other. 

"It is my costume for the party, obviously I am going to wear this," Azriel chuckles, relishing in his husband's embrace, leaning back against Eris' hard chest. 

"I think you did not understand," Eris drawls and clicks his tongue. "I want you to wear this tonight. After we get home. I want you wear this while I am on the ground, between your thighs, my mouth wrapped around you."

Eris grins, looking into the mirror right into Azriel's eyes, covered by the ghostface mask he is already wearing. A shiver of lust and anticipation courses through Azriel, and he chuckles lowly. 

"And do you also want me to chase you through the house, making you beg to let you live?" 

Azriel grins behind his mask, heat rising into his cheeks. Even after years of marriage, the spark between them, as well as the passion and the lust, are still there, and he couldn't be happier.

"I definitely want that," Eris hums, kissing Azriel's shoulder. "But it won't be my life I will be begging for. It will be your—"

The ringing of the door bell interrupts their sensual conversation.

"Trick or treat!" the little boy, Nyx, hollers. The whole Archeron family is dressed up as Dracula. Rhysand wears a black cape, fake fangs in his mouth, a droplet of blood painted below his lip, and his dark hair slicked-back. Feyre, the queen of midnight she is, donned a long black gown with red accents and a vampire collar. She also has fake fangs in her mouth, and a droplet of blood below her lower lip. And baby Nyx looks adorable. He wears a small cape, mini fangs in his mouth and tiny bat bings are strapped to his back. He wiggles on his feet, holding a big plastic pumpkin in his small hands as he is waiting for his uncles to put sweets in. 

"Uncle Az!" cheers when Azriel finally lifts his mask and chuckles. The tiny boy runs, rather waddles very quickly to his uncle, who immediately coops him up, cuddling him tightly. 

Lifted up, Nyx dangles his little plastic pumpkin in front of Eris's face, beaming brightly, so Eris can fill it up with sweets, which he of course does. Nyx cheers, grins, giggles and thanks his uncles which warmth and makes happy smiles spread over their faces. 

"Your outfits don't quite match, right?" Feyre lets her gaze run over the two males, the corner of her mouth tugging upwards. 

Eris takes a step closer to Azriel and gives his mate's rear a gentle slap, which makes Azriel jump slightly, yet a sly smile creeps up on his face. "We couldn't agree, so no."

Rhys and Feyre laugh at that.

"And so we ended up as Ghostface and Dr. Frankenstein."

"Well, it suits you," Rhys compliments, allowing Nyx to take hold of his hand. Instantly, the little boy tugs eagerly at his father's hand. With a pleading tone, Nyx exclaims, "Let's go," stretching out the word "go". Rhys offers a wave to the two men, already trailing after Nyx, who had sets off towards the next house on the street.

"We won't be joining you at the party. So, have a wonderful evening," Feyre says with a smile on her lips. 

Eris and Azriel's smiles are radiant. "You too."

The two men stay at the door until the family disappears and then they also return inside, adding their last touches to their costumes. 

"What if we also ditch the party?"

Azriel turns his head to the side, amusement playing on his lips. "Your brother is hosting."

"And my brother will forgive me for ditching the party." Eris slings his arms around Azriel from behind and kisses his husband's shoulder. He brings a hand up, to slide the ghostface mask back over Azriel's face and grins. "We will have a good reason for not coming," Eris muses. 

"You wanting me to bang you in this mask?"

Eris gives his eyes a dramatic roll, and steps away, gently tapping his mate's butt. "Alright, we are going to the party."

Azriel wants to remind his husband that it actually had been Eris who had been trying to convince Azriel to go to the halloween party for weeks, who had wanted them to dress up, and who had been on fire to go there together. But Azriel decides to keep his mouth shut, just chuckling lowly, his gaze following Eris until he disappears into the kitchen to collect his wallet or whatever. 

🕸🕸🕸

Merely half an hour later, Eris and Azriel, their hands intertwined, arrive at the Vanserra-Archeron home. It is a beautiful, and lovely forest cottage, perfect for the couple. Nestled deep within the large forest, there is their delicate cottage, its facade now adorned with delightful Halloween decorations. A cobblestone path leads to the cottage's entrance, gently illuminated by flickering candlelight. Jack-o'-lanterns accompany the path, their faces carved perfectly, as they create both an eerie but also inviting atmosphere. Each pumpkin has a different face, some look friendly with big smiles, while others seem spooky with sharp, toothy grins — Elain simply did an amazing job, Eris concludes. As they move closer to the house, halloween music already sounding from the inside, they marvel at he meticulously decorated facade — tattered pieces of frabic in shades of black and white flutter in the breeze, while cobwebs adorn the windows. Hanging bats, their wings outstretched, seem to soar through the night sky above the roof and Eris knows that his poor little brother probably had a heart attack watching his wife put them up there (or vice versa, because those two are protective as hell). 

The party is already in full swing as they enter, immediately being greeted by one of the hosts of the party — Lucien, dressed as the Mad Hatter. Elain is a few steps behind him, greeting some other guests. They create a stunning picture together, looking absolutely fabulous. 

With a broad smile under his bizarre hat, Lucien says, "Eris, you make an amazing Dr. Frankenstein! And you," he adds, gesturing to the his brother-in-law, "that’s truly not a bad costume."

Lucien and Azriel are not the best of friends, but they get along, mostly for Eris' happiness. 

The male dressed as Dr. Frankenstein responds with a chuckle, "Thanks, little brother! You two look absolutely dashing. Thank you for the invite, by the way."

Elain finally also joins her husband at the door, and playfully curtsies and says, "Welcome to Wonderland, Eris, Azriel! It's going to be an amazing night of spookiness and wonder!"

Lucien has to laugh at his breathtaking wife, his arm wrapping around her so he can kiss the top of her head. 

Together, they all make their way into the living room, where they join the others. Elain's sister Nesta and her husband are dressed as Michael Myers and Laurie Strode. They look absolutely fantastic. Cassian hollers and laughs loudly as he hugs his best friend and then claps his hand on Eris' shoulder. "You two," he chuckles. 

Gwyn, beaming brightly next to Nesta, is rocking a Harley Quinn costume. She already had one or two drinks and finds it hilarious that she introduces herself as "Harley Gwyn."

And Emerie who is dressed as the Batwoman has to laugh from the bottom of her heart every single time she hears it. Soon, they are also joined by Mor who shows a dashing Barbie look, grinning brightly, swaying to the music. 

Eris, his hand once again sliding into Azriel's, turns to look around in the room, mareveling at all the decoration adorning the walls, all the work Elain and Lucien put into it. 

Halloween music sounds around them, accompanied by chatter, laughter and people singing along with it. 

The living room looks like a magical, spooky world. The lights are dimmed, and they create long, scary shadows on the walls. Even inside there are jack-o'-lanterns everywhere, and Eris wonders how long it must have taken Elain and Lucien to carve them. Cobwebs hang from the ceilings and corners, and are joined by bats and ghosts. There are fake spiders hanging from strings, or at least Eris hopes they are fake. The large dining table is incredibly, once again Elain has outdone herself. 

There is a great variety of treats from neon gummy worms, candy corn scattered like autumn leaves, and sandwiches shaped like tombstones. A big bowl of witches' brew punch is set in the centre of the table, fake spiders sitting on the edge of it. There are also mummified hot dogs and Eris can only grin at them. Alongside those dishes there are even more ghastly treats like monster eyeballs that also must be some kind of sweets. 

Eris lets his gaze stray, watching Amren lean against the doorframe dresses as Cleopatra, putting all her jewellery on display. She is talking to Tarquin, and his nephew Varian who is Amren's boyfriend. They are dressed like they are straight out of Baywatch. 

And there are Vassa and Jurian – Superman and Wonder Woman. They are happily chatting and also dancing a little, while eating the lovely treats Elain has provided.

"This party is fucking fantastic," Eris expresses. Lucien brings drinks over for all of them which they down after their cheers, happy chatter and laughter following. 

Azriel and Eris inform the others about having met Feyre and Rhysand plus their little baby boy and all once again come to the conclusion that Nyx is just the sweetest little baby boy in the whole entire world.

"You being so terribly calm is even scarier with the mask, Az," Nesta chuckles and nudges Azriel with her elbow. "The longer you stay quiet, the more unsettling it becomes."

The others join in laughing and even Azriel, muffled behind his mask, chortles. As the music gets louder, people start dancing in the middle of the living room and soon are joined by Eris and the others.

Some random zombies join in alongside skeletons and a Joker. He is a friend of Nesta, his name is Balthazar and he soon catches Gwyn's attention, who turns to him with a smile as they start dancing together, freely, wildly, and without a care in the world.

There is only one night in the world where you can be this crazy and free and you have to celebrate it to the fullest. Their dancing only shows how much they love Halloween and having a good time together with friends and family. As the music gets louder, more people start dancing and having fun. Also more alcohol flows, the witches' brew and some stronger liquors. 

Azriel's hand rest on Eris' waist while the man starts to sway, chatting with brother and his sister-in-law. In the meantime, Cassian is talking to Azriel about everything and anything, and Azriel listens and laughs slightly from time to time, simply enjoying his brother's company. They haven't seen each other in a minute, and it just feels good to have him around him again. 

Nesta is dancing with Mor and Emerie, all of them showing off their fabulous costumes and dance moves. When Balthazar and Gwyn also join, them dancing, Gwyn giggles and says, "I lost all sense of who I was, I only had eyes for puddin'." Balthazar is laughing and so are the others. 

As the night progresses, Eris, with quite a bit of alcohol in his blood and trying to be absolutely seductive while dancing, makes finger guns, moving them up and down his body, away from one side to another, dancing, or rather trying to dance, always keeping eye-contact with his husband. Azriel can barely contain it, laughing so hard and loud, his ghostface mask starts to vibrate.

"I can't wait for us to get home," Eris rasps as he moves closer to his husband, a slight slur in his voice, trying to dance with the man who hasn't moved a single bit this evening. Azriel laughs again and grabs his husband's hand. "Soon, baby. Soon." 

Somehow Eris manages to make Azriel dance with him, and soon both of them are moving together, joined by Nesta, Cassian, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn and Balthazar. 

Lucien and Elain are swaying together close to the bar, her hands on his chest, Lucien's hands on the small of her back. "You've truly outdone yourself." He smiles down at her. "The party is absolutely perfect." 

Elain beams and bounces on her toes to kiss his lips. "I am already looking forward to next year."

~~~~~~~~ azris, feysand, nessian, elucien tag lists: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me @swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @ladyelain@vulpes-fennec @girlinglass999  @autumndreaming7 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis  @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel@aayo-whatt@ofduskanddreams@banasheefan56 @thelovelymadone

[barrowsteeth]

Cory Michael Smith as Varian Fry

Transatlantic (2023) 1.04 | No Road Back

For @variansfry 💙

GIF ID: Three GIFs of Varian speaking with Captain Dubois aboard the Sinaia, the ship on which the Vichy police have detained Varian and the refugees from the Villa Air-Bel. Varian's suit is uncharacteristically wrinked, the top button of his shirt is undone, and his tie is loose and off-center.

[ashasworld23]

I feel like the show never really took a deep dive onto Quirin and what it was like for him being trapped in the amber an his P.O.V. On it this is also based off on the episode once upon a head maiden before Varian showed Eugene his weapon.

Work Text:

It was a beautiful morning in Corona and Varian was taking his father to the castle to show him his newest invention although Quirin's mind was blank yet racing with images of him during his time being trapped in that amber he felt like he couldn't…..”Dad, are you okay?”

Varian's face looked concerned as he unknowingly interrupted his father's thoughts. “I…I’m okay son what is it that you wanted to show me?”

Varian didn't look too convinced that his dad was really okay but he brushed it off cause he didn't want to push any unwanted buttons, especially for today

“This project that I've been working on with Eugene this is the one weapon that will defeat or contain Cassandra.”

Varian dramatically opens the door to the outside training for the guards which changes into training for Varian’s newest invention

“Father I present to you pause for dramatic effect”

Quirin looked at his son confused but then chuckled a little bit. Varian then grabs his invention

“I can now present to you Project Of Obsidian!!....This Machine here is a weapon that can trap Cassandra in her tracks with a similar formula that encases the moon rocks.

Wait the formula the same one that kept him trapped in for a whole year? Quirin tried to pull a smile for his son to let him know that he was proud of him but he felt like he couldn't breathe as he looked at the very similar yellow amber suddenly he felt dizzy and nauseous his ears started to ring as his son was still speaking about his weapon Quirin was about to speak but his son turned around and he blasted the weapon again at the wooden stand that had Cassandra's face painted on it.

For target practice Varian then turned around but suddenly looked concerned when he saw his father gripping his shirt tightly and started to hyperventilate and he started to lower himself to the ground Varian then ran up to his father while dropping his weapon “DAD!…dad?..”

Varian looked at his father and touching his dads shoulder with his hand not knowing what to do so he says “ Dad I'm..i'm going to get help just—”

“No..please just I need you here..*gulps for air *, ..please just.”

Quirin was too afraid of the flashing images in his head to even finish his sentence; he was this close to crying in front of his own son. “I need to know that..I'm not there again.”

Varian looked at his dad confused and asked “Again? What do you mean?…. I ….oh. Variant wanted to punch himself in the face so maybe he could get Eugene to punch him once he calms his father down. Varian hesitated at first but he took his father’s hand and said “Dad you're not trapped in the amber you’re here with me outside,what are 3 things that you can feel?”

But Quirin felt confused at first with his son’s question but he answered.

“I..umm…*gulps* …feel the breeze of the air.. and your hands the grass?” Quirin then opened his eyes and saw his son leaning against his shoulder then the dam broke and he started sobbing. Varian then hugged his Father as he cried and tried to speak as he was crying

“I’m..*gasp*..I’m sorry I….I know that I’m supposed to be strong for you son but I can’t I really can’t especially when it’s about this,being trapped inside that damn Amber ruining our lives and relationships with the people of Corona…I’m sorry that I couldn’t be strong for you.”

Quirin then spoke more about how he felt being trapped in the amber

“I was just completely frozen, unable to move but I could hear only small muffled voices but I couldn’t move…or open my eyes just frozen and no one could ever understand what that could’ve been like, not even you my son.”

Varian then pulled away from the hug with tears falling from his face and said “Dad you can always be honest with me on how you feel and I’m so sorry for showing you this. I should've known that seeing this amber again could’ve triggered you.”

Quirin wiped his tears and said “I was already off edge earlier today thinking about that amber and please son it…it wasn’t your fault.” Varian hugged his Father and said “I love you dad please try to be more honest with me if you get those attacks again.”

Quirin hugged his son back and said “I promise…love you too.”

The End

#t