#nyx of night court

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter One

Series Masterlist

CW: Non-con kissing and touching

The Court of Nightmares, a place that housed the people the High Lord of the Night Court didn't want to keep. A place where no one from the other Court with a sound mind would enter. It was a dark and dreary place, not at all for the faint of heart.

Novali was born in the darkest times Hewn City had seen, their High Lord had left, leaving the worst of the worst to take charge. A century, it had been since their High Lord had visited, busy raising his heir in the Court of Dreams.

There hadn't been a whisper of the Lord since before Novali had been born nearly two decades ago, cruel males and females were in charge, and not plenty of nice people left to save the bad ones.

Novali sat in a club, cards face down in front of her, five others with her on the table, three males and two females. On her turn, she pushed some of the money to the centre, eyes raised at the next male, the only one who hadn't folded.

Her face was expressionless, watching the male, seeing right through his bluff. Gambling was easy marks, a pile of copper and silver collected, when the male finally admitted defeat Novali with a triumphant look pulled all the coins with her.

"Well, this has been fun, but she needs to leave," a male spoke behind her, and Novlai had trained herself well enough to not stiffen at the voice.

Her fiance, one of the most influential males in the Court, Sailas, stood behind her, even if most people feared him, even if the other people at the table straightened at the sight of him, Novali had trained herself to not fear him half a decade ago.

"Of course, Sir." The title was rough on her tongue as she stood up, Sailas reached forward to grab her won money.

Sailas counted the silver marks, keeping them and passing the copper ones to Novali, "Good girl," he purred, pocketing the marks, his hand on Novali's waist, he leaned down to kiss her, Novali held her breath, knowing better to not cringe at the alcohol on his lips.

"Come on," He moved and Novali followed behind him, her eyes dark in anger, whipping away at her lips, smoothing her simple black dress, short heels clicking with each step.

Novali's eyes scanned the room, Sailas was off talking to one of his friends, making her stand beside him, she noted everything in the bar. Her eyes went from the few faelings working, most of them were her age, and she knew each and every one of them, she hid a smile well watching them swipe things off the adults in the room without anyone else noticing.

"Girl, get us something strong to drink!" Sailas commanded her, and she turned to her fiance and his friends.

"Yes, Sir." She dipped her chin in respect and turned on her heel to the bar, ordering the drinks she knew by heart, and putting them on her fiance's tab.

Novali stood around as the bartender poured the drinks for her, "So, what would you like?" The bartender asked, his red hair not looking too bright in the tavern, but his amber eyes were shining with fire in them.

"Nothin', Aleks," Novali sighed, ears straining to hear her fiance talk.

"That's unbelievable." Sailas stressed. "They were never supposed to come back."

Kier, the male he was talking to spoke up, "No, the High Lord is coming soon, Morrigan just visited, arranging a meeting."

Novali's eyes were unfocused as she listened in, the High Lord was coming, from what she'd heard, Kier's daughter had visited, for the first time in a century.

Aleks caught the change in her expression, pouring the last drinks and pushing them in front of her. "What's wrong?"

Novali didn't let her findings show, knowing that people, especially her fiance, were watching, "Thank you for your service." Novali gave Aleks a nod, taking the drinks to her fiance and the Fae he was talking to.

The place was dark, it was hard to tell the time since it was always dark in the Court of Nightmares, Novali walked down the empty streets, humming to herself.

Her fiance had just kicked her out of his house just moments after he was done using her for petty marks and her body, he refused to house her when she had gotten pregnant with his child almost 6 years ago, saying Novali was ruined to have gotten pregnant in a wedlock.

Novali trudged through the desolate streets, her body heavy with exhaustion yet fueled by determination. The bitter sting of betrayal lingered, a harsh reminder of the cruel reality she now faced. He refused to acknowledge the innocent life that she carried within her and abandoned the babe he had forced in her.

The cold, unforgiving night mirrored her heart, shrouded in darkness and despair. She thought about seeking solace with her parents, but they too had turned their backs on her, choosing instead to side with societal norms. They’d abandoned her, leaving Novali alone to face the world’s harsh judgment. And it had taken quite a while, to stop caring for people like her parents, and she had.

She went back to the male, because of how powerful he was, and while he was drunk he would slip knowledge she wouldn't otherwise get. Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had overheard about the High Lord and more that he had told her, bitching about Rhysand.

The sound of a falcon made her look up. She put her little finger in the corner of her mouth and whistled to her bird. The falcon landed on top of Novali's head and let her pet him. The bird made a sound of contentment, and Novali followed, both of them enjoying the contact.

"Hello, Azazel," Novali whispered, scratching the bird's neck. She had found him injured on the streets, and it hadn't taken her long to feel a kinship with the bird, feeling as if they were the same, thrown on the streets, injured and left to die and it was easy to see that Azazel felt the same.

Azazel was way bigger than a normal falcon someone could find, possessing his own magic, and ability to sneak around despite his size, his wingspan was almost as long as Alekxia's arms, and his coat was completely black, leaving his pale crop to harden his ability to hide like her pale skin against her raven hair, but that didn't stop them.

The texture of Azazel's feathers was one of the few constant touches in her life, even though, she had shaken on deals, gotten a pat on the back, in rare cases even a hug it all felt strange to her. Unless it came from very specific friends of hers.

She would catch herself thinking about how it would feel to have a long tight hug with someone, to hold a hand, but when it happened, the texture of another skin on hers felt wrong. No matter how wanted.

Novali had felt him approach long before he fully got to her, from how Azazel had nipped at her pointed ear, "How are you...?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"The High Lord is coming for a visit in two days." Novali didn't beat around the bush, not quite wanting to talk about how she was.

Aleksander tilted his head as he looked at her, "Rhysand, the High Lord?" He asked, brows rising, "He remembers us?"

Novali laughed sharply, "Apparently." She slowed slightly so they could match their walk. "We should talk with Cahira around."

Lanterns were hanging from huts, powered by magic, the only source of light in the place that Novali called home, sitting on a small round table, sitting with her friends.

Aleksander raised his hand, and the fire in the lanterns increased in intensity, "So, High Lord is visiting, start talking." He nodded to Novali.

"He's coming in a day or two, Sailas wants me to attend with him..." Novali sighed, "He's got a dress for me, he doesn't want me to wear my normal clothes. It's going to be a massive party." She watched her friends as she spoke, "Almost as big as the last party Eris Vanserra ever attended, Salias' words."

"Ughh..." Cahira made a face, "Sometimes, I am glad I'm disowned."

The three friends look at each other with a serious expressions before they burst out laughing.

Novali smiled, "I've only heard that once before from you." She sets down a plate of meats, Cahira bringing different forms of slices of bread. They had cooked in bulk like they did for their fellow faelings, to offer them, eating last.

Aleksander hummed, taking food for himself, "Well, my darling mother didn't invite me." He leaned in his chair, the chair underneath him creaking lightly.

"I do not want to be there, either." Novali sighed, "But I need to be, we should know what Rhysand wants with our people."

"Perhaps he's beinging golden boy here?" Cahira rolled her eyes, sipping her water. "He'd want to see the shit hole he's let this place become."

Novali cleared her throat, the three of them weren't old by any means, but they were old enough to know what was happening in their home court, and to know it wasn't right.

"The heir should be of age..." Novali added, "So it makes sense, he's showing him High Lord things."

Leaning back in his chair, Aleksander lets out a sigh, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the worn wooden surface of the table. His amber gaze was shadowed with concern.

Cahira and Novali exchange glances, understanding passing between them without words. The tension in the air is palpable. Nothing could be said to dilute it, none of them liked not knowing if something big was about to go down.

After they had done catching up with their day, they retired to their beds, as Novali was alone she slipped into her bed, "Shristi...?" She smiled at the little fae she shared a bed with. The fae she had faked the death of, her entire world.

Shristi opened her eyes the second she heard her mother's voice, the 6-year-old smiled, snuggling into Novali, "Mama... You're home..."

"I'm home..." Novali rested her head on their shared pillow, "Were you good for Cahira, sweety?"

Shristi nodded in her chest, "Very good."

"That's wonderful." Novali sighed, stroking her daughter's back as she looked up, she could hear the silence in the place as no one was awake, no one but her, because Novali never slept, she couldn't afford to be vulnerable, so she got used to staying up till she passed out of exhaustion.

She smiled lightly as she heard Azazel return to his nest in her home, also retiring for the night. The talk she had with her fiance was ringing in her ear, the drunken fool had let a lot slip. The heir, Nyx, was indeed coming with the High Lord and Lady, combined with the inner circle.

She wondered what it would be like to have them in Hewn City, how much power she would feel, would they care for what was happening to them? Or would they just simply turn a blind eye to them?

Her mind pondered endless questions till her eyelids grew heavy and she shut them, exhaling lightly, ears still strained in a final attempt to not let down her guard.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Meeting in Grey Taglist- @sleepylunarwolf @achaotichuman @sarawritestories @bakananya}

[romanticatheartt]

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ Mama Feyre and Nyxie🥹❤️‍🩹

Credit: keridoodles

[rainingriversofyou]

Feyre, Rhysand & Nyx - A Court Of Thorns And Roses

Artist: chelzd_art

[lykingart]

Imagine, growing up Nyx thought his mom’s name was ‘Feyre Darling’ because that’s what his dad calls her

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right?

An Eris x Reader drabble

(Part 2) (Part 3)

Warnings: a bit smutty, language

“Your dad’s going to kill you.”

My head was pounding. This bed was so warm.

Last night was a blur.

Nyx, how many times do I have to request that you not intrude on my thoughts before 9 am.

“It’s almost noon, cousin.”

Shit!

Shit, cover for me! Please.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Right. I know. Cover for me anyway?

“One hour. Be here in one hour. You owe me.”

Don’t worry, Nyxie. I’ll cover for you the next time you visit the lovely daughter of Spring.

Slamming my mental shields up, I rolled over to the fiery lover next to me with a groan, “Get me out of this autumnal wasteland.”

“Good morning to you too, little one.” the redhead pressed against my backside grumbled.

I rolled over to smack his shoulder. “Gross, Eris. I’m the same age as Aunt Nesta when you proposed to her.”

Eris smirked. “She never called me daddy like you do.”

I let out a mirthful laugh, hoisting myself on top of him, straddling just below his rippled abdomen, “I’m never fucking you again.”

“You say that every time, dear.” Gripping his hands on my hips, groggy voice a whisper, “Yet somehow you keep falling back into my bed.”

Fuck. He was so hot.

I leaned down, pressing my breasts to his bare chest, face just an inch from his. “I can’t help that my shadows love how you beg.”

A growl escaped the back of his throat as my shadows restrained his wrists above his head. My gaze turned icy as I commanded, “Eyes on me, Eris.”

His only response a shift of his hips.

“Don’t fucking move.” I purred.

Nyx could keep the family off my back for a little longer.

[high-queen-feyre]

Feyre being a mom fills me with so much joy, like yeah babe, tell em how it's done.

Both Feyre and Rhysand will break the cycles, Feyre being an attentive mother that she didn't have and Rhys being the affectionate father that he didn't have.

I'm ok... I'm not tearing up... I'm good.

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Blossoms and Shadows

Summary: 

Nyx now all grown up decides to introduce his new love Y/N to the Night Court.

Word Count: 724

Warnings: None 

Velaris was as breathtaking as ever, its beauty magnified by the vibrant energy that filled the streets. The House of Wind buzzed with anticipation, its occupants eager for the arrival of Nyx and his guest. Feyre and Rhysand had meticulously prepared the house, ensuring everything was perfect for this significant introduction.

Nyx, now a striking young man with his father’s charm and his mother’s fierce determination, was bringing someone special home. The Night Court was ready to welcome her, though they couldn’t help but feel a tinge of curiosity and concern. She was from the Spring Court—a distant cousin of Tamlin.

As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the city, the door to the House of Wind opened. Nyx stepped in, his arm around a beautiful young woman with golden hair and emerald eyes that sparkled with intelligence and warmth.

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” Nyx announced, his voice filled with pride and affection.

Y/N smiled, her gaze sweeping across the gathered members of the Night Court. Feyre and Rhysand stood side by side, their expressions welcoming but scrutinizing. Cassian and Nesta were nearby, Cassian’s eyes twinkling with mischief while Nesta maintained her usual composed demeanor. Azriel and Elain were a little further back, Azriel’s shadows curling protectively around Elain as they watched the newcomers.

“Welcome, Y/N,” Feyre said, stepping forward and offering her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Y/N took Feyre’s hand, her smile warm and genuine. “Thank you, Lady Feyre. It’s an honor to be here.”

Rhysand chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Please, call us Feyre and Rhys. No need for formalities among family and friends.”

Nyx squeezed Y/N’s hand, his eyes full of reassurance. “Come on, let’s sit down. There’s so much to talk about.”

As they made their way to the sitting area, Cassian couldn’t resist a teasing comment. “You know, there’s something about women from the Spring Court always falling for the Night Court. Must be our irresistible charm.”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and musical. “Or maybe it’s because you guys keep saving us from all sorts of trouble.”

The room filled with laughter, the tension easing as everyone settled into comfortable conversation. Y/N shared stories of her life in the Spring Court, her voice animated and engaging. Despite her connection to Tamlin, she spoke with admiration for Nyx and the Night Court, clearly enchanted by their world.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself in a deeper conversation with Feyre and Rhysand, while Nyx was pulled aside by Cassian and Azriel.

“Looks like you’ve found yourself quite the match,” Cassian said, clapping Nyx on the back.

Nyx smiled, his eyes following Y/N’s every move. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Azriel nodded, his expression thoughtful. “She seems to handle herself well. And she’s clearly smitten with you.”

Nyx’s smile widened. “I’m smitten with her too. She’s different from anyone I’ve ever met.”

Cassian’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Just remember, we’ll always have your back. But we’ll also keep an eye on her—Spring Court connections and all.”

Nyx laughed, appreciating his uncles' protectiveness. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was sharing a moment with Feyre, who couldn’t help but notice the young woman’s genuine affection for her son.

“You seem to care for Nyx a great deal,” Feyre said softly.

Y/N met Feyre’s gaze, her eyes earnest. “I do. He’s everything to me. I know our courts have a complicated history, but I believe we can build something beautiful together.”

Feyre smiled, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. “I believe that too. Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

As the night wore on, the bonds between Y/N and the Night Court members strengthened, the initial wariness giving way to acceptance and warmth. Nyx and Y/N stood on the balcony, looking out over the city, their hands intertwined.

“This feels like a dream,” Y/N whispered, leaning into Nyx’s embrace.

Nyx kissed her forehead, his heart full. “It’s our reality now. And we’ll face whatever comes our way together.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Together.”

And so, under the starry night sky of Velaris, the Night Court welcomed a new member into their fold, proving once again that love could blossom even in the most unexpected of places.

[shallyne]

Headcanon

Nyxie has a phase where he tries to copy Rhys in everything. His stance, how he eats, walks, talks. When Rhys does paperwork, Nyx sits right beside him scribbling on a piece of paper (very important, like dad) he tries to flap his little wings like Rhys

All that stuff

@officialrhysandweek

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime. 

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel. 

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious. 

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them. 

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room. 

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords. 

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work. 

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow. 

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings. 

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail. 

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery. 

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold. 

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be. 

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. 

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain. 

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that. 

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears. 

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space. 

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above. 

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer. 

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?” 

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking. 

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.” 

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer. 

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib. 

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly. 

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well. 

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib. 

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.” 

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.” 

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

[littlest-w01f]

Meeting in Grey

Pairing: Nyx x Original Female Character

MAIN MASTERLIST

Growing up believing the world is black and white, good and evil, a world divided into Dreams and Nightmares. Divided by their High Lord to remain separate is safe, and boring.

But a mixing morals is bound to be met, the Heir of Night is bound to meet his grey in the Court of Nightmares, a place he was raised to believe housed the worst people of his court

Content Table:

Moodboard

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven (coming soon)

(all characters belong to SJM, the writer of the ACOTAR series, except for Novalie, my original character)

(any images/gifs used in the series do not belong to me until stated otherwise)

[luardraws]

shhh, they’re sleeping... 💭

[romanticatheartt]

Happy Father's day to him<3

Father of Prythian

Nyx's papa

And Feyre's daddy

🎨: ViciousJay_Art on X

[emiliamildner]

High Lord and Lady of the Night Court and their Heir ✨

Inspired by Rhysand, Feyre and Nyx from ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas

‼️DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!

[viajandopelomar]

Hi guys. I received an anonymous message in Portuguese and I answered it in Portuguese as well, but I want to bring it in English so that it reaches more people in the fandom.

Hello BR fan of acotar.I have to say this, Nyx will be lucky (favored by the script) if he becomes someone decent. Both parents are too irresponsible to raise a child, and especially that they both know they're going to war again, so why put a child in a pre-war moment, like imagine the traumas he'll have. If Feyre had died in childbirth and consequently Rysand, Nyx would have been trained as early as possible to take over the kingdom and would have missed out on a good part of his childhood... like Rysand knew the consequences and didn't say anything! The only way Nyx won't turn into a spoiled prince is if other people do the real motherhood and fatherhood with him, because these two don't have the responsibility for that.

I'll let you know that this became something about the night court as a whole while I was writing it .

Yesyes, I agree with everything. I believe that Nyx will be raised to be like his father, since he will need to uphold the whole image that Rhysand also upheld when he inherited from his father. And I don't mean as a "mask", but because that's the system of the Night Court. It's made to be that way and Rhysand has been taught to do everything he does, while claiming it's "for the good of Velaris". It's for the sake of the power of the Grain Lords, those who have come before and those who will come after him.As for their irresponsibility, Feyre was basically coerced into getting pregnant, right? In ACOFAS everything in her mind revolved around "Rhysand is 500 years old and doesn't have an heir.", and how he died and the night court had no one left (she herself assuming that her title is useless). Then she remembers again and again the appearance the carver showed her, and there's even that shopkeeper who lost her partner (who seemed too good, since supposedly partners go mad when they lose the other) and said that in 3 centuries, she hadn't conceived a baby. Everything around Feyre was screaming "Fairies don't get pregnant easily and your husband is half a millennium old!!!!!".

As for her deciding to get pregnant when the war wasn't completely over, she didn't know. Too dumb. You can tell she wasn't even aware of the details of the Illyrian revolt (if she knew anything at all). In ACOWAR, no one mentioned the consequences of the destroyed spring, the opening to summer, how she facilitated Hybern's entry and fucked everything up even more, how she ended up further disuniting the weakened Prythian front by attacking Beron and burning the lady of the fall as well (Azriel also attacked Eris, but that's beside the point at the moment). And to make matters worse, Spring borders human lands, so she opened the way for them to reach humans even faster 🫠. And she has no idea of ANY of this. So yes, she didn't know about the still standing armies of Cesere, Vallahan and Rask (Rask alone being almost the size of the night court ☠️). It seemed to me that she actually forgot about them until Rhysand sent Morrigan to Vallahan in ACOSF. Feyre has been oblivious to big picture information since ACOMAF, when Rhysand only provided information on the things she was supposed to do, like steal from Tarquin and both deal with it as if it were a normal day, after all. He even only told her she had powers after she left the spring. Everything benefits him, nothing for her. But it's all because she doesn't seek it, she only has what he gives her. Feyre doesn't question anything in the night court for someone who left the spring because she was kept in the dark👀. Rhysand knows what to give and say to make her believe that she's not in the same position as before, because he's been in her mind since that time and knows how to act without her feeling threatened, Tamlin wasn't daemati and couldn't even feel her emotions as a partner. She swapped the mansion for the city (in the mansion she went out on horseback and saw villages and saw more of the court than she ever did in the night court, it's worth noting).

Not to say that she doesn't do anything political, there is ONE MENTION in ACOFAS of her receiving letters from the Grain Lords, but we don't even know what it's about. She's so oblivious that she thinks Rhysand is PERFECT because he distributes winter items to people in need in the city (which he himself claims is perfect, and he IS THE SYSTEM), and because he meets citizens at weekly hearings. But these hearings are restricted to Velaris... and the people even ask for burned-out lights to be replaced, while Illyria just wants some recognition and thanks after all they've lost fighting for the people of the Grand Lord's wife. All they got was retaliation, more orphans and widows ☺️.

I think that if Feyre and Rhysand had died, Keir would have been chosen by magic. Apart from being the only man of high lineage, his blood ruled the north before Rhysand's, after all. He probably didn't take over when Rhysand died in the war because of a plot hole, or perhaps because Feyre held Rhysand by the noose (headcanon because it wasn't mentioned). The IC would probably try to raise Nyx in hiding and instill hatred in him so that he would take revenge against Keir, but Keir would never leave them alive. Feyre thinks they're so powerful and untouchable, to the point that she actually finds it absurd that Tamlin ignored them at the meeting. But they were hidden under Amarantha's rule. Even Amren, so they're definitely not as threatening as Feyre makes them out to be. She just idolizes them. And Grand Lords have the voice that makes people bow to them, so... Nyx could hardly do anything against Keir.

Nyx will be just like Rhysand, he has everything he wants, when he wants it. And if he doesn't he'll just pull the strings or let his power come out and put fear into them, unable to possess anyone's trust or even make negotiations. He'll oppress the hollowed-out city because "they're despicable", while all those people are the bedrock of the court. Everyone thought so until the attack on the shining city and Velaris became known. The excavated city probably supplies Velaris, because there's no way that city could do it on its own in the middle of nowhere, basically being a utopia with no one doing anything heavy (a pretty crap utopia because it has the blocks where Nesta lived). The excavated city governs itself and maintains the true power of the night court (they know everything about Prythian, the rumors and news reach there, so I believe that what happens there also reaches beyond the borders. Everyone knows that Feyre is shown half-naked to the court 🙂 ).

I think I've said too much, but that's it.

[queercontrarian]

The Mother, The Father and The Holy Spirit

or sth like that

rhysand, nyx and feyre

serving their court by serving cunt

[hrizantemy]

(Nyx AU Anon) Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand tell Nyx when (he reaches adulthood) the story of his birth and Nesta reforming the valkyries, having echo chambered it into a funny story. Nyx, on the other hand, is *horrified.*

Nyx confronting Nesta about how she can let them do this to her is also how Gwyn and Emerie find out the actual *details* of ACOSF. Cue 2 and a half very angry Valkyries (Nyx is honorary) raising hell.

I love this idea! It would be so satisfying to see Nyx confront them after they’ve treated such a traumatic story like some joke. The Valkyries raising hell alongside him would be incredible—especially since Gwyn and Emerie deserve to know the truth about what Nesta endured. I definitely need to write this!