“Bryce asked Nesta. ‘You have a mate, right?’ She nodded to Azriel. ‘Do you?’
‘No,’ Azriel said quickly, flatly.
‘A partner or spouse?’
‘No.’”
-HOFAS Walmart Bonus Chapter
I’ve been having the most cursed fic ideas (I blame Halloween), including a Frankenstein retelling with Azriel as Frankenstein. So tired of believing that he is the only of his brothers without a mate, Azriel takes it upon himself to create a partner for himself. His bride.
A/N: I'm very much in the Witchy Girl Autumn spirit. This is an AU where Nesta is a Death Goddess; be warned it's a bit dark and twisty.
Warnings: mean domme!Nesta, fingering, oral f!receiving, tribbing, pussy spanking, breath play ish?, humiliation ish?, idk this is filthy just beware and minors dni or I'll hex you
Ice-coated leaves crunched beneath your bare feet, the remnants of snow a dulled sting against your skin. Unable to fight the shivers that wracked through you, you inwardly cursed yourself for being such a weak witch to be phased by something as little as the weather.
The heavy black cloak draped over your body provided your only protection from the late December air as you found your small opening in the forest and knelt. Shaky hands, stiff from winter air clumsily pushed debris to the side, pulled kindling from your pack, carved the spell circle into the dirt.
Hands dirtied, breath cloudy in the crisp cold, you looked to the sky as the stars seemed to dim even without the light of the moon. The second full moon of this month - and the last of this year - would guarantee the strongest connection to the earth. As mother nature began anew, you would so draw from her power, praying to the goddesses for guidance and strength to begin anew as well.
Regretfully, you pulled the black shawl from where it draped across your neck, sucking in a deep breath at the chill that filled your bones when you laid the offering at your makeshift altar’s base beside the purple candles and fruits you’d set to honor the Crone.
The symbol of new beginnings, wisdom, and serenity - your last hope was sacrament and supplication to the waning facet of the Triple Headed Goddess. As darkness enveloped the land and the wind grew eerily still, you breathed light into the candles with a whisper of a spell-cast. The kindling caught quickly, blazing to life with a ferocity that had you pulling off your cloak.
Completely bare in the darkness with the spirits of goddesses and witches past watching curiously, you began to chant in the old language - your story, and your please for help. A soft smile graced your lips as the flames raged higher and higher, the only source of light in this Black Moon night, signaled that your voice had been heard.
As warm hope swelled in your chest, you closed your eyes, head thrown back in whole surrender to the powers that listened, only for that warmth to be brusquely ripped away. No gust of wind signaled the suffocation of the flames before you. It was the cold, a supernatural force that rattled your core which told you something was amiss.
Eyes fluttering open, you gasped at the sight of the North Star shining brightly in the sky, where it had been missing only moments ago.
“It’s snowing,” a sultry voice purred. You jumped at the sight of a woman - not a woman, but something... more - leaning against the pyre, seemingly unbothered by the simmering embers of extinguished flames against her exposed skin.
Translucent silver fabric draped over the curves of her body, your eyes drinking her in as they trailed upwards. The thorned diadem that circled her braided hair seemed to mimic the silver flames that danced in her eyes, and you gasped at the realization of who was before you.
Lady Death read your expression with a taunting smirk, eyes glittering with amusement as she leapt from the altar with grace. You watched in awe as she picked up a pomegranate from the offerings, humming a cheery tune that seemed to betray the nature of her being.
“It’s snowing,” she repeated, brow arched in question as Death’s gaze raked unabashedly over your naked body. “Aren’t you cold, little witch?”
The heat from her gaze sent a shock of confidence though you, your expression shifting to match her own. “I could ask the same of you, Lady Death,” you countered, accentuating your own, slow stare. You allowed yourself to fully revel in her form, the unexpected beauty of a goddess of death.
Her long legs reflected the star’s light through the slits of wispy fabric in her gown, her breasts peaked from the cold, nearly as pale as the snow that had begun to drift upon the forest floor.
A laugh echoed through the air, and your eyes snapped to hers to find that same taunting smile, lazy like a predator who’s caught its prey. “I am Death,” she purred, plunging a finger through the flesh of the pomegranate in her hand. “I don’t get cold, pet.”
Tipping the fruit to her lips, pomegranate juice flowed down, staining her lips a deep red and trailing down. Down her throat, the red liquid flowed slowly between her breasts and below the dress.
You could feel heat rise to your cheeks, cunt fluttering at the mere sight of her, of everything you could and could not see. The fruit rolled from the goddess’s fingertips, dropping to the ground unceremoniously as she strolled toward where you still kneeled on the ground.
A single finger curled under your chin, easily maneuvering you how she pleased. “Why did you summon me?”
Heart thundered in your chest, eyes widening as you registered her question. “I-I didn’t mean to summon you,” you argued, voice pleading. “I was making an offering, hoping for a blessing from the Crone-“
“You meant to summon the Crone?” Death’s grip sharpened on your chin.
Willing your heart to still, you forced yourself to look into her eyes, the depths of them swirling with dark power. “No, I meant to ask for wisdom. For blessings with a fresh start. My life-“ You choked slightly at the press of her hand at your throat, just hard enough to make your head feel lighter.
“You summoned me, you naive little witch.” She spat the last word like a curse, cupping your jaw as she jerked your head to face the circle behind her. “You summoned the Crone. Hecate, Coatlicue, Muerte, Meng Po, Lady Death.” The briefest pause. “Nesta.”
I go by many names, witch. And yet, you somehow ‘accidentally’ summoned me, for a mere blessing?”
“W-well, yes. I just wanted to move on, my relationship-“
A sharp cackle cut off your rambling, the noise so unlike how the goddess had sounded earlier that you nearly jumped again.
“You know, pet,” Nesta whispered, leaning down until her face was a breath away from your own. “I appear to those who call on me as what they truly desire. And you, my dear, see me as myself.” Drawing back slightly, the goddess’s hand moved to stroke your hair in a frighteningly soft manner.
“So tell me, pet, what do you truly desire?”
Eyes dropping down to the trail of sweet juice that stained Nesta’s skin, you could feel her smile as though she could read your thoughts. Lust overcame you like a force of its own, head cloudy as you heard yourself babble admissions of want.
“Take it. Take what you need, little witch.” Nesta gasped as you lunged forward, pulling her to her knees along with you in the dirt. Lips instantly found hers, a clash of teeth and tongues as you licked every bit of remaining fruit from her mouth.
Trailing down, you followed the path of temptation down her chest with a frantic need you had never felt before, pawing at the scraps of fabric that held Nesta’s dress in place. She laughed softly, the sound quickly turning to a moan as you took one of her nipples into your mouth.
“Lay back,” you panted, Nesta’s amused lack of urgency only spurring on your own frustration. “Please,” you whined, helpless in your need to touch her, taste her. With a soft hum, she obliged you, laying back on the thin blanket of snow with a slowness that allowed you to strip her bare before she hit the earth.
Bringing your lips back to her chest, you licked and sucked dark bruises that drew sinful moans from the goddess. She reveled in the pain and pleasure, and with that knowledge you dragged your nails down her thighs, cleaning up the juice until you hovered above her glistening cunt.
Practically panting in your crazed state, you spread her legs to settle in when you felt yourself suddenly lifted. Death had easily flipped you onto your back, her hips nestled atop your own as she pinned your wrists into the dirt.
“You look so cute like this. Needy, desperate enough to let me do anything to you,” she growled. So wrapped up in your lustful haze, you simply nodded along, weakly arching your hips for some sort of friction. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you asked for, baby,” Nesta cooed. Her hips lowered to meet yours, legs interlocked as she slowly ground her clit against your own.
Soft moans flowed from her lips like a melody, your own soft pants swallowed by her lips crashing against yours, her teeth sinking into your skin, lips sucking your tongue into her mouth as though she was trying to consume you. Nesta kept you pinned beneath her, using your body as she humped and rolled her growing slick against yours.
You had never felt so helpless yet so powerful, lacking control but seizing pleasure. Your pussy clenched, lips gaping as you felt yourself begin to hit your orgasm when Nesta abruptly pulled away. “Not yet, pet,” she tsk’d at your fucked out confusion beneath her.
“You need to take care of me.” Turning around, Nesta slid up your body, her sticky cunt perched over your mouth as her hands skated down your hips. “Show me that you deserve my blessing.”
Fully pressing her weight onto you, you moaned at the feeling of breathlessness, the taste of her dripping against your chin and lips as her hips began to rock. Taking advantage of Nesta releasing your wrists, you wrapped your arms around her thighs, pulling her closer to lick her clean, sucking and lightly nipping at her clit while you studied her reactions to every motion.
You could tell she was close, doubling down your efforts when she suddenly thrust a finger inside of you, curling against your slick walls with embarrassing ease. She chuckled, adding to the humiliation when she added a second finger, twisting a curling with tortuous slowness that stole your focus from her pussy.
Nesta’s thumb found your clit, your hips bucking up at the sudden feeling. Before you could register what happened, Nesta was fully sitting on you, cutting off your air as a harsh smack landed on your pussy. Your scream was muffled by her cunt on your lips, but Nesta rolled against you in response, moaning at the vibrations.
Lifting up slightly, the goddess rolled a soothing hand over your puffy clit. “You take what I give you, pet. Now, stay still. I will not ask again.” She gave no warning before plunging her fingers inside of you once more, this time faster as her tongue licked a wet stripe down your clit.
Your legs burned from keeping them still against the cold, hard ground, head swimming from how long you’d been held between Nesta’s thighs when she fluttered around your tongue. “Come, now,” she commanded, and your body obeyed. Shaking and moaning, you savored her release as she worked you through yours.
Sitting up with an impossible grace, Nesta smirked at you over her shoulder, lips stained red and shining with your arousal as the North Star cast a glow over her silhouette. You lay, sore and exhausted, as the goddess crawled up your body, sitting her wet pussy on your stomach. She looked down at you with a sense of appraisal, hands lazily roaming every inch of your skin.
“I think I’ll have to keep you,” she hummed, thumb lazily dragging across your bottom lip.
“Keep me? What does that mean?” you squeaked out in a whisper, eagerness and fear eddying within your mind at the possibilities.
Nesta only offered you a cryptic smile, thumb dipping into your mouth where you could still taste the pomegranate’s sweet nectar on her skin. Tongue flicking out, you wrapped your lips around her like second nature. “Good girl,” she muttered as the forest grew dark around you once more.
A/N: I'm very much in the Witchy Girl Autumn spirit. This is an AU where Nesta is a Death Goddess; be warned it's a bit dark and twisty.
Warnings: mean domme!Nesta, fingering, oral f!receiving, tribbing, pussy spanking, breath play ish?, degradation, idk this is filthy just beware and minors dni or I'll hex you
Ice-coated leaves crunched beneath your bare feet, the remnants of snow a dulled sting against your skin. Unable to fight the shivers that wracked through you, you inwardly cursed yourself for being such a weak witch to be phased by something as little as the weather.
The heavy black cloak draped over your body provided your only protection from the late December air as you found your small opening in the forest and knelt. Shaky hands, stiff from winter air clumsily pushed debris to the side, pulled kindling from your pack, carved the spell circle into the dirt.
Hands dirtied, breath cloudy in the crisp cold, you looked to the sky as the stars seemed to dim even without the light of the moon. The second full moon of this month - and the last of this year - would guarantee the strongest connection to the earth. As mother nature began anew, you would so draw from her power, praying to the goddesses for guidance and strength to begin anew as well.
Regretfully, you pulled the black shawl from where it draped across your neck, sucking in a deep breath at the chill that filled your bones when you laid the offering at your makeshift altar’s base beside the purple candles and fruits you’d set to honor the Crone.
The symbol of new beginnings, wisdom, and serenity - your last hope was sacrament and supplication to the waning facet of the Triple Headed Goddess. As darkness enveloped the land and the wind grew eerily still, you breathed light into the candles with a whisper of a spell-cast. The kindling caught quickly, blazing to life with a ferocity that had you pulling off your cloak.
Completely bare in the darkness with the spirits of goddesses and witches past watching curiously, you began to chant in the old language - your story, and your please for help. A soft smile graced your lips as the flames raged higher and higher, the only source of light in this Black Moon night, signaled that your voice had been heard.
As warm hope swelled in your chest, you closed your eyes, head thrown back in whole surrender to the powers that listened, only for that warmth to be brusquely ripped away. No gust of wind signaled the suffocation of the flames before you. It was the cold, a supernatural force that rattled your core which told you something was amiss.
Eyes fluttering open, you gasped at the sight of the North Star shining brightly in the sky, where it had been missing only moments ago.
“It’s snowing,” a sultry voice purred. You jumped at the sight of a woman - not a woman, but something... more - leaning against the pyre, seemingly unbothered by the simmering embers of extinguished flames against her exposed skin.
Translucent silver fabric draped over the curves of her body, your eyes drinking her in as they trailed upwards. The thorned diadem that circled her braided hair seemed to mimic the silver flames that danced in her eyes, and you gasped at the realization of who was before you.
Lady Death read your expression with a taunting smirk, eyes glittering with amusement as she leapt from the altar with grace. You watched in awe as she picked up a pomegranate from the offerings, humming a cheery tune that seemed to betray the nature of her being.
“It’s snowing,” she repeated, brow arched in question as Death’s gaze raked unabashedly over your naked body. “Aren’t you cold, little witch?”
The heat from her gaze sent a shock of confidence though you, your expression shifting to match her own. “I could ask the same of you, Lady Death,” you countered, accentuating your own, slow stare. You allowed yourself to fully revel in her form, the unexpected beauty of a goddess of death.
Her long legs reflected the star’s light through the slits of wispy fabric in her gown, her breasts peaked from the cold, nearly as pale as the snow that had begun to drift upon the forest floor.
A laugh echoed through the air, and your eyes snapped to hers to find that same taunting smile, lazy like a predator who’s caught its prey. “I am Death,” she purred, plunging a finger through the flesh of the pomegranate in her hand. “I don’t get cold, pet.”
Tipping the fruit to her lips, pomegranate juice flowed down, staining her lips a deep red and trailing down. Down her throat, the red liquid flowed slowly between her breasts and below the dress.
You could feel heat rise to your cheeks, cunt fluttering at the mere sight of her, of everything you could and could not see. The fruit rolled from the goddess’s fingertips, dropping to the ground unceremoniously as she strolled toward where you still kneeled on the ground.
A single finger curled under your chin, easily maneuvering you how she pleased. “Why did you summon me?”
Heart thundered in your chest, eyes widening as you registered her question. “I-I didn’t mean to summon you,” you argued, voice pleading. “I was making an offering, hoping for a blessing from the Crone-“
“You meant to summon the Crone?” Death’s grip sharpened on your chin.
Willing your heart to still, you forced yourself to look into her eyes, the depths of them swirling with dark power. “No, I meant to ask for wisdom. For blessings with a fresh start. My life-“ You choked slightly at the press of her hand at your throat, just hard enough to make your head feel lighter.
“You summoned me, you naive little witch.” She spat the last word like a curse, cupping your jaw as she jerked your head to face the circle behind her. “You summoned the Crone. Hecate, Coatlicue, Muerte, Meng Po, Lady Death.” The briefest pause. “Nesta.”
I go by many names, witch. And yet, you somehow ‘accidentally’ summoned me, for a mere blessing?”
“W-well, yes. I just wanted to move on, my relationship-“
A sharp cackle cut off your rambling, the noise so unlike how the goddess had sounded earlier that you nearly jumped again.
“You know, pet,” Nesta whispered, leaning down until her face was a breath away from your own. “I appear to those who call on me as what they truly desire. And you, my dear, see me as myself.” Drawing back slightly, the goddess’s hand moved to stroke your hair in a frighteningly soft manner.
“So tell me, pet, what do you truly desire?”
Eyes dropping down to the trail of sweet juice that stained Nesta’s skin, you could feel her smile as though she could read your thoughts. Lust overcame you like a force of its own, head cloudy as you heard yourself babble admissions of want.
“Take it. Take what you need, little witch.” Nesta gasped as you lunged forward, pulling her to her knees along with you in the dirt. Lips instantly found hers, a clash of teeth and tongues as you licked every bit of remaining fruit from her mouth.
Trailing down, you followed the path of temptation down her chest with a frantic need you had never felt before, pawing at the scraps of fabric that held Nesta’s dress in place. She laughed softly, the sound quickly turning to a moan as you took one of her nipples into your mouth.
“Lay back,” you panted, Nesta’s amused lack of urgency only spurring on your own frustration. “Please,” you whined, helpless in your need to touch her, taste her. With a soft hum, she obliged you, laying back on the thin blanket of snow with a slowness that allowed you to strip her bare before she hit the earth.
Bringing your lips back to her chest, you licked and sucked dark bruises that drew sinful moans from the goddess. She reveled in the pain and pleasure, and with that knowledge you dragged your nails down her thighs, cleaning up the juice until you hovered above her glistening cunt.
Practically panting in your crazed state, you spread her legs to settle in when you felt yourself suddenly lifted. Death had easily flipped you onto your back, her hips nestled atop your own as she pinned your wrists into the dirt.
“You look so cute like this. Needy, desperate enough to let me do anything to you,” she growled. So wrapped up in your lustful haze, you simply nodded along, weakly arching your hips for some sort of friction. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you asked for, baby,” Nesta cooed. Her hips lowered to meet yours, legs interlocked as she slowly ground her clit against your own.
Soft moans flowed from her lips like a melody, your own soft pants swallowed by her lips crashing against yours, her teeth sinking into your skin, lips sucking your tongue into her mouth as though she was trying to consume you. Nesta kept you pinned beneath her, using your body as she humped and rolled her growing slick against yours.
You had never felt so helpless yet so powerful, lacking control but seizing pleasure. Your pussy clenched, lips gaping as you felt yourself begin to hit your orgasm when Nesta abruptly pulled away. “Not yet, pet,” she tsk’d at your fucked out confusion beneath her.
“You need to take care of me.” Turning around, Nesta slid up your body, her sticky cunt perched over your mouth as her hands skated down your hips. “Show me that you deserve my blessing.”
Fully pressing her weight onto you, you moaned at the feeling of breathlessness, the taste of her dripping against your chin and lips as her hips began to rock. Taking advantage of Nesta releasing your wrists, you wrapped your arms around her thighs, pulling her closer to lick her clean, sucking and lightly nipping at her clit while you studied her reactions to every motion.
You could tell she was close, doubling down your efforts when she suddenly thrust a finger inside of you, curling against your slick walls with embarrassing ease. She chuckled, adding to the humiliation when she added a second finger, twisting a curling with tortuous slowness that stole your focus from her pussy.
Nesta’s thumb found your clit, your hips bucking up at the sudden feeling. Before you could register what happened, Nesta was fully sitting on you, cutting off your air as a harsh smack landed on your pussy. Your scream was muffled by her cunt on your lips, but Nesta rolled against you in response, moaning at the vibrations.
Lifting up slightly, the goddess rolled a soothing hand over your puffy clit. “You take what I give you, pet. Now, stay still. I will not ask again.” She gave no warning before plunging her fingers inside of you once more, this time faster as her tongue licked a wet stripe down your clit.
Your legs burned from keeping them still against the cold, hard ground, head swimming from how long you’d been held between Nesta’s thighs when she fluttered around your tongue. “Come, now,” she commanded, and your body obeyed. Shaking and moaning, you savored her release as she worked you through yours.
Sitting up with an impossible grace, Nesta smirked at you over her shoulder, lips stained red and shining with your arousal as the North Star cast a glow over her silhouette. You lay, sore and exhausted, as the goddess crawled up your body, sitting her wet pussy on your stomach. She looked down at you with a sense of appraisal, hands lazily roaming every inch of your skin.
“I think I’ll have to keep you,” she hummed, thumb lazily dragging across your bottom lip.
“Keep me? What does that mean?” you squeaked out in a whisper, eagerness and fear eddying within your mind at the possibilities.
Nesta only offered you a cryptic smile, thumb dipping into your mouth where you could still taste the pomegranate’s sweet nectar on her skin. Tongue flicking out, you wrapped your lips around her like second nature. “Good girl,” she muttered as the forest grew dark around you once more.
“My apologies, lady. I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary. Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”
“We’re not going to bite.” Lucien’s white teeth gleamed in a way that suggested otherwise.
“If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?”
“So there’s singing and dancing and excessive drinking,” Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. “And dallying,” he added with a wicked grin.
Lucien was crouched over me, frowning. “I couldn’t heal
you completely—they would know someone helped you. The bruises are there, along with a hideous
black eye, but … all the swelling’s gone.”
“And my nose?” I said, feeling it before he answered.
“Fixed—as pert and pretty as before.” He smirked at me.
“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before
closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders.
Jurian is the funniest character in the entire ACOTAR series and I'm pretty sure most of what makes him so funny isn't even on purpose. like he's a living legend. he led a slave revolt and allegedly spent the whole time bragging about how great he is. he's a femme fatale. he crucified someone. for five hundred years, he was Spirit Halloween costume jewelry. he eats loudly. he was such an obvious double agent and literally nobody around him noticed even though four of them could read minds and his motive for siding with the baddies made no sense. he's really annoying. he's deeply traumatized. his ex girlfriend tried to murder him in the middle of the final battle of the series. despite being a relatively minor character, the main trilogy nearly ends on him and Feyre talking about the future. his best friends are a queen he unintentionally got turned into a bird and a centuries old nobleman he spent months intentionally antagonizing. he's almost a king. he's sprawled out on a ridiculous pink couch. he's undead. he's literally just a guy.
Summary: Reader finds Lucien preparing for some of his childhood Autumn Equinox traditions, and decides to surprise him.
Wind whipped softly at your cheeks, late September air bringing a much needed reprieve from the exhausting heat August had brought this year. You smiled at the sight of a leaf, twirling in the breeze as it floated down from its branch to join the others scattered about the forest floor in a kaleidoscope of greens, oranges, and yellows.
The sound of rustling foliage pulled your attention from the path to the Exiles’ Manor. A familiar head of long flaming hair brought a smile to your lips, his presence drawing you like a moth to the flame.
Hearing the sound of your approach, Lucien looked over his shoulder from where he knelt on the ground, his returning smile sending heat pooling in your belly. You glanced beyond him to the small structure in front of him. A small structure had been built, its fine craftsmanship an indication of who had crafted the object. Lucien’s golden complexion flushed slightly at your curious gaze, your eyes roving eagerly over the small pyre he’d built, decorated beautifully with an assortment of berries, nuts, and what seized your attention most - two cornhusk dolls laid together at the front.
Kneeling in front of the arrangement, you reached a hand out and twined Lucien’s fingers through your own. “What is this?” you whispered, voice soft with awe.
Lucien squirmed slightly, a rare moment of self consciousness showing behind his charming facade. “It’s a Mabon Altar,” he nodded, reaching out to brush away a leaf that had fallen over the display. “It’s an Autumn Court tradition.”
His gaze flicked to yours, studying your reaction. “Each year, we - they - celebrate the Equinox with rituals, to honor the Mother, and to ask her for prosperity, protection, and balance.” He laughed dryly at his own words, mouth twisting into a wry smile as you carefully picked up one of the corn husk dolls.
“My mother holds the traditions very sacred. The dolls are supposed to represent those we love, to pray for their good fortune.” Gaze swinging to the other doll which still sat on the earth, amber eye swam with emotion. “I hardly believe that,” he swallowed thickly, “but my mother always made dolls for each of my brothers and me. And one like this.”
He held the doll, pulling it closer so you could see the intricate details Lucien had worked to cut and carve. The doll was darker than the one in your hand, the corn husk itself nearly as dark as the soil, while parts of it were painted gold as though to resemble the doll’s clothing. You looked to the doll in your own hand, studying the lighter hue of its husk, shades of red so much like Lucien’s. “This one is your mother?” you questioned softly.
Lucien nodded, a mournful smile playing on his lips. “It meant so much to her to create these each year. It makes me feel closer to her - even if I can’t be there in Autumn with her.”
Pulling your hand from his, you intertwined your arms and leaned against his warm frame. “And who is that?” you prodded, gently taking the other doll from him.
“I don’t know. I think it was just an idea of my mother’s - a symbol of hope for protection, or her future.”
Setting the corn husk back in its place, you leaned to press a kiss to Lucien’s cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I hope I can be here to celebrate the Equinox with you, if that is okay.”
His answering smile stole the air from your lungs, unbridled joy casting a ray of sunshine through him as Lucien stole your lips for another, deep kiss. “I can think of nothing that I would love more,” he purred, your insides melting at the suggestive tone.
~~~
You were lounging on the pink sofa in Lucien’s lap days later when Twilight began to darken the sky. Flashing a conspiratorial grin to Vassa and Jurian, you excused yourself to your room, smiling at Lucien’s groan when the other two quickly did the same.
In your room, you hurriedly grabbed the burgundy dress from your wardrobe, applying rouge to your lips before giving yourself an assessing look in the mirror.
Yesterday during your visit to the Day Court on emissary business, you had asked Helion about the library’s books on Autumn Court’s Equinox traditions. The High Lord had shocked you by knowing plenty about their traditions himself, recalling the feast they had each year with different foods to represent the different Houses.
The way in which Helion spoke about the rituals held such a reverence, you couldn’t help but grow more excited to surprise Lucien with a party. You had thanked Helion - who bid you farewell with a mournful smile that oddly reminded you of Lucien’s - eager to race home and begin planning.
Exhaling a nervous breath, you swiped the final touches of makeup across your eyes before turning back to the living room.
“My vixen, you couldn’t stay away for-“
Whatever witty remark Lucien had planned died in his throat, mouth agape as he took you in. You were indeed the vixen, your dark red lips matching the tight fabric that donned your figure like a siren’s call to the male in front of you. Moving as though in a trance, Lucien swiftly stood from the couch, his hands finding purchase on your waist, shamelessly trailing up your body to feel the curves you’d put on display.
“What is this?” Lucien asked, his voice practically a growl with the self restraint he barely clung to.
“This,” you purred, stepping back to offer him the full view of your body once more, “is what I wear to a party.”
“A party?” he echoed, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip in intrigue. You simply hummed in response, lacing his fingers in your own as you led him towards the front door with a playful wink over your shoulder.
Opening the door of the manor, you smiled at how incredibly Vassa had pulled together the evening. Fae lights glowed like fireflies throughout the trees, illuminating the table that was set with an ornate dinner and fae wine. A symphonia played the gentle tune of a familiar orchestra, setting the mood for Jurian and Vassa as they swayed on the makeshift dance floor.
“What is this?” Lucien breathed, hand still tight around your own.
Smiling brightly at the wonder in his expression, you led him to the table where the others were now taking their seats. “I learned a bit more about Equinox traditions, and I wanted to surprise you with some new memories of a special holiday for you.”
Jurian coughed from across the table, earning an elbow to the ribs from Vassa and an eye roll from you. “Vassa helped a lot... And Jurian a little bit, as well,” you teased in response to the latter’s outraged expression.
“Thank you all, very much,” Lucien murmured, voice thick with emotion. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek before filling his plate with traditional Autumn celebration foods, laughing and drinking with your friends late into the night until the moon was high in the sky.
“It’s time,” you whispered from where you leaned against Lucien’s warm chest. As midnight approached, you followed the path to Lucien’s altar, whispering your own silent prayers from behind as he lit the pyre with a flick of his wrist.
Turning to face you, Lucien stood aglow in the firelight, his amber eyes and bright hair glowing like the sun. You smiled bashfully at his beauty, still in place as he walked up to you, and right past you.
Stunned, you turned over your shoulder to find him standing on the dance floor, poised in a dramatic bow with his hand outstretched in askance. “My cunning vixen, will you do me the greatest honor of dancing with me?”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, earning a mischievous wink as Lucien spun you into his arms, your chest flush against his, hearts beating as one. The fire burned a soft crackle, illuminating the dark night as the symphonia began to play a slower sort of melody. “Thank you for sharing your holiday with me,” you murmured, cheek laid against Lucien’s chest as you swayed.
Lips pressed gently to the top of your head, lingering there for a long moment. Pulling away slightly, Lucien’s hand tucked under your chin as he guided your face to look at his. “Thank you for giving me new, sweet memories, every day,” he murmured, eyes glowing with emotion before they flicked downward, suddenly turning dark.
Wandering hands found their way back to you, Lucien pulling you impossibly close as his hands squeezed your ass appreciatively. “There is one part of you that will always be the sweetest, though,” he purred, leaning down to tug your earlobe between his teeth. “And I won’t be sleeping until I’ve had a taste.” Before you could react, Lucien tossed you over his shoulder, one hand holding you still as the other moved precariously further beneath your dress while he strode back towards the manor.
Best Friend Cassian x Reader / mated Azriel x Reader Hurt / Comfort
A/N: This is for anyone who is tired. Life is hard, but the world is better with you in it.
The loud echo of your boots against the hardwood echoed through the hallway, steps fast and harsh against the floors as though you could take your anger out against it. Face hot with waves of anger and shame, you heaved out a sigh, flexing and clenching your hands while you paced the room, seeking an outlet to calm the rage contained beneath your skin.
As if they could sense you were about to break, a cool wisp of darkness brushed your hand, effectively extinguishing the wildfire burning within you. Feet stopped on instinct, your watery eyes falling closed as tension immediately left your body, the anger making way for a brief peace that quickly soured to melancholy.
“Love?” Azriel called out from the kitchen, your mate’s warm voice healing the hole in your chest as you padded towards his call.
“Hey, Az,” you murmured, smiling in spite of yourself at the sight of bright hazel eyes. The scent of chilled mist and cedar permeated the air, a balm to your blazing emotions. A calloused hand brushed down your arm, just as softly and soothing as his shadows when Azriel pulled you to his side.
Movement from the corner of your eye turned your head, Cassian’s hulking frame leaning casually over the counter as he cleaned the final scraps of food from his plate. “Hey sunshine,” he winked, pausing to take a long swig of his drink. “How’s Windhaven? Keeping those Illyrian louts in check for me?”
By the way Azriel’s shadows began to oscillate erratically, his grip on your waist tensing ever so slightly, you knew that you hadn’t hidden your reaction to Cassian’s question.
“What happened?” Azriel asked in a lethal calm. The shame and anger from earlier rushed back to you, eddying in your mind like a whirlpool that threatened to pull you under. A cool shadow stroking your cheek pulled your attention back to your mate. Safety, love, protectiveness seemed to roll off of him, and you spared a glance to Cassian to find the same.
Allowing yourself to lean your weight on Azriel, you found the comfort and clarity you needed from his presence - and with that clarity, the awareness of Azriel’s own simmering anger just below his composed facade.
“Azriel,” you whispered, hand reaching up to brush a lock of onyx hair behind his curved ear. “I think I need to talk to Cassian about this alone, if that is alright.”
Warring emotions seemed to play out in Azriel’s eyes, the irises reflecting golden light as his gaze flicked between his mate and brother. “I will talk to you about it, but I need to speak with my General right now,” you promised, offering a small smile of encouragement.
The shadowsinger’s sharp stare softened at that, understanding falling like a blanket of comfort over the two of you. Azriel recognized your need to separate your work from home life - it was a value which you both shared, and worked on balancing together. Pressing a kiss to your hair - and flashing a warning glare at Cassian that sent a shiver down your spine - Azriel went outside, leaving you alone with Cass.
Without Azriel’s presence by your side, the weight of the day seemed to fall all at once, Cassian’s expression turning from that of a concerned General to a worried friend instantly. His eyes tracked how your weight shifted awkwardly, hands twisting with each other.
“C’mere sunshine,” he murmured, pulling out the chair next to where he sat. You took the chair, elbows instantly landing on the table and hands tangling in your hair.
“I don’t think I can do this, Cass,” you admitted, hiding your watery eyes by studying the woodgrain of the table. “Windhaven. As a female. I’m just not strong enough.” You could feel Cassian’s intake of air, so you spoke before he could interject his platitudes and hollow encouragements.
“It’s so hard - and I knew it would be - but day after day, nothing changes. Some of these males get worse with how they treat me, how they even treat each other. And I know I should ‘not let it bother me.’ I know that ‘it’s a reflection of their character and not mine.’ I know that ‘I am the bigger person.’ But gods dammit, I am so tired.”
You dared a peek at Cassian, expecting something of pity or even judgment, but he sat back in his chair with eyes that matched your own, sparkling with the same barely-held tears which held memories, understanding. He nodded silently, both an encouragement and an affirmation.
Loosing another sigh, you ran one hand through your hair as the other picked nervously at the textured table. “I tried to fight back today. To take a stand.” Palms smacked the table, the sting left on your hands nothing compared to the sting of today’s memory.
“Fucking Devlon,” you continued. “He brought a group of male soldiers to where we were training the new Valkyries. The way they taunted those young girls, the disgusting comments... And one of them-” Your eyes shuttered at the sound of his voice replaying in your mind. “I won’t repeat what he said to Gwyn, but it sent me over the edge, Cassian. I couldn’t let those females be treated like that.
“So I challenged the asshole to a fight, with a ‘cycle-tainted sword,’” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the words.
“And he accepted,” Cassian added, not a question, but a reminder.
With a stiff nod, you watched his reaction carefully as you continued the story. “I pinned him, easily-“ You felt relief as Cassian sipped his drink, shrugging in a silent of course. “But I didn’t stop there. He continued to spew his shit even from the ground, and I saw the faces of those other males. They hadn’t changed. I hadn’t proved anything to them.
“So I took my blade, and I cut his wing.” You couldn’t help the tear that spilled down your cheek then, the salty droplet cool against your reddened cheek. “Not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a scar. To leave a reminder of what we could do.”
Cassian’s lips spread into a smirk, eyes twinkling with the feral delight of a true warrior, but he remained silent.
“It feels wrong, Cassian. I don’t know what to do - how to stand up for myself, for others. Those males will never change, and I fear I’m only becoming as terrible as them. But I can’t bear to see that evil. I just can’t do it anymore... I am not strong enough for Illyria.”
Your bottom lip quivered, the heartbreak of the situation weighing you down, curving your shoulders in as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
Cassian watched you for a long moment, pushing his plate to the side before leaning closer, ruby red siphons pulsing light against the table where he now rested them.
“I don’t know whether your actions against that male were the right thing to do. I do know that he deserved it - and much more - but if it weighs on your conscience, it may not be what is best for you. And that is what I care about. I don’t give a fuck about what happens to some Illyrian prick who went out of his way to hurt you all. He incited a reaction, and reaped the consequences.
“You are right,” Cassian continued, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “It is so hard, to see the hatred and evil day after day - not only from our enemies, but those within our own community. And those males will probably never change. But so much has changed, and will. The Valkyries are already bringing change in more ways than I think you realize.”
Cassian swallowed thickly, his eyes shining with a brighter kind of emotion. “Remember when I met you and Nesta in town after training at Windhaven last week?” You nodded, curious as to where he was going with this.
“I saw the two of you walking towards me, armed in your uniforms with heads held high. These little girls,” he breathed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “They were watching you from the window. Two little Illyrian girls with a look that I had never seen them have in that town. It was more than admiration, it was hope.”
Hazel eyes bore into you with a captivating earnestness. “You give them hope. Something I am ashamed to say I hadn’t noticed was missing until The Valkyries brought it to them. Those males may not change, but you are helping to build a world for those little girls to be the change.
We can’t change Illyria overnight. But it needs you, because you are making the world a better place for those children - a world with hope, where they can be themselves without fear, because they look at you and know it is possible.”
A sob broke from your lips, relief washing over you like a cool wave at the realization. You would make mistakes, consequences would have actions, people would do wrong by you and others. But as small as your work may feel, you are building a better world for tomorrow.
A shadow wound through your tousled hair, wiping at the salty tears that streaked down your cheeks. Cassian chuckled at the motion, standing from his seat with a grunt. “I think Azriel might be getting impatient out there,” he nodded towards the door. “Go have a good night with your mate.”
You stood, nodding with a sniffle as you wrapped your arms around your friend, his own returning the action with his usual tight squeeze. “Thank you, Cassian. You are a very good friend, and General.”
“I know,” he smirked when you pulled away, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m feeling inspired to go find my Nesta, and remind her just how much better the world is with her.” With a suggestive smirk, he winked and set off towards the library, leaving you laughing softly at his shameless behavior.
You opened the door to the outside where Azriel stood looking out at the sunset, his stillness making him look like a statue until he turned to face you, and you inhaled sharply at the beauty of your mate, a living work of art.
“Are you alright?” he questioned, failing to hide his concern at the still-drying tears on your face. Pushing up on your toes, you pulled him in for a kiss.
“Better than ever,” you murmured against his lips, tugging his soft lower lip between your teeth before pulling away to take his hands in yours. “I’ll tell you everything over dinner. I’m ready to enjoy my night with the one I love.”
That earned a cheeky grin from Azriel, the male effortlessly sweeping you into his arms before setting off to fly across the multi-colored hues of the evening sky, where you clung to the comfort of him.
Best Friend Cassian x Reader / mated Azriel x Reader Hurt/Comfort
A/N: This is for anyone who is tired. Life is hard, but the world is better with you in it.
The loud echo of your boots against the hardwood echoed through the hallway, steps fast and harsh against the floors as though you could take your anger out against it. Face hot with waves of anger and shame, you heaved out a sigh, flexing and clenching your hands while you paced the room, seeking an outlet to calm the rage contained beneath your skin.
As if they could sense you were about to break, a cool wisp of darkness brushed your hand, effectively extinguishing the wildfire burning within you. Feet stopped on instinct, your watery eyes falling closed as tension immediately left your body, the anger making way for a brief peace that quickly soured to melancholy.
“Love?” Azriel called out from the kitchen, your mate’s warm voice healing the hole in your chest as you padded towards his call.
“Hey, Az,” you murmured, smiling in spite of yourself at the sight of bright hazel eyes. The scent of chilled mist and cedar permeated the air, a balm to your blazing emotions. A calloused hand brushed down your arm, just as softly and soothing as his shadows when Azriel pulled you to his side.
Movement from the corner of your eye turned your head, Cassian’s hulking frame leaning casually over the counter as he cleaned the final scraps of food from his plate. “Hey sunshine,” he winked, pausing to take a long swig of his drink. “How’s Windhaven? Keeping those Illyrian louts in check for me?”
By the way Azriel’s shadows began to oscillate erratically, his grip on your waist tensing ever so slightly, you knew that you hadn’t hidden your reaction to Cassian’s question.
“What happened?” Azriel asked in a lethal calm. The shame and anger from earlier rushed back to you, eddying in your mind like a whirlpool that threatened to pull you under. A cool shadow stroking your cheek pulled your attention back to your mate. Safety, love, protectiveness seemed to roll off of him, and you spared a glance to Cassian to find the same.
Allowing yourself to lean your weight on Azriel, you found the comfort and clarity you needed from his presence - and with that clarity, the awareness of Azriel’s own simmering anger just below his composed facade.
“Azriel,” you whispered, hand reaching up to brush a lock of onyx hair behind his curved ear. “I think I need to talk to Cassian about this alone, if that is alright.”
Warring emotions seemed to play out in Azriel’s eyes, the irises reflecting golden light as his gaze flicked between his mate and brother. “I will talk to you about it, but I need to speak with my General right now,” you promised, offering a small smile of encouragement.
The shadowsinger’s sharp stare softened at that, understanding falling like a blanket of comfort over the two of you. Azriel recognized your need to separate your work from home life - it was a value which you both shared, and worked on balancing together. Pressing a kiss to your hair - and flashing a warning glare at Cassian that sent a shiver down your spine - Azriel went outside, leaving you alone with Cass.
Without Azriel’s presence by your side, the weight of the day seemed to fall all at once, Cassian’s expression turning from that of a concerned General to a worried friend instantly. His eyes tracked how your weight shifted awkwardly, hands twisting with each other.
“C’mere sunshine,” he murmured, pulling out the chair next to where he sat. You took the chair, elbows instantly landing on the table and hands tangling in your hair.
“I don’t think I can do this, Cass,” you admitted, hiding your watery eyes by studying the woodgrain of the table. “Windhaven. As a female. I’m just not strong enough.” You could feel Cassian’s intake of air, so you spoke before he could interject his platitudes and hollow encouragements.
“It’s so hard - and I knew it would be - but day after day, nothing changes. Some of these males get worse with how they treat me, how they even treat each other. And I know I should ‘not let it bother me.’ I know that ‘it’s a reflection of their character and not mine.’ I know that ‘I am the bigger person.’ But gods dammit, I am so tired.”
You dared a peek at Cassian, expecting something of pity or even judgment, but he sat back in his chair with eyes that matched your own, sparkling with the same barely-held tears which held memories, understanding. He nodded silently, both an encouragement and an affirmation.
Loosing another sigh, you ran one hand through your hair as the other picked nervously at the textured table. “I tried to fight back today. To take a stand.” Palms smacked the table, the sting left on your hands nothing compared to the sting of today’s memory.
“Fucking Devlon,” you continued. “He brought a group of male soldiers to where we were training the new Valkyries. The way they taunted those young girls, the disgusting comments... And one of them-” Your eyes shuttered at the sound of his voice replaying in your mind. “I won’t repeat what he said to Gwyn, but it sent me over the edge, Cassian. I couldn’t let those females be treated like that.
“So I challenged the asshole to a fight, with a ‘cycle-tainted sword,’” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the words.
“And he accepted,” Cassian added, not a question, but a reminder.
With a stiff nod, you watched his reaction carefully as you continued the story. “I pinned him, easily-“ You felt relief as Cassian sipped his drink, shrugging in a silent of course. “But I didn’t stop there. He continued to spew his shit even from the ground, and I saw the faces of those other males. They hadn’t changed. I hadn’t proved anything to them.
“So I took my blade, and I cut his wing.” You couldn’t help the tear that spilled down your cheek then, the salty droplet cool against your reddened cheek. “Not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a scar. To leave a reminder of what we could do.”
Cassian’s lips spread into a smirk, eyes twinkling with the feral delight of a true warrior, but he remained silent.
“It feels wrong, Cassian. I don’t know what to do - how to stand up for myself, for others. Those males will never change, and I fear I’m only becoming as terrible as them. But I can’t bear to see that evil. I just can’t do it anymore... I am not strong enough for Illyria.”
Your bottom lip quivered, the heartbreak of the situation weighing you down, curving your shoulders in as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
Cassian watched you for a long moment, pushing his plate to the side before leaning closer, ruby red siphons pulsing light against the table where he now rested them.
“I don’t know whether your actions against that male were the right thing to do. I do know that he deserved it - and much more - but if it weighs on your conscience, it may not be what is best for you. And that is what I care about. I don’t give a fuck about what happens to some Illyrian prick who went out of his way to hurt you all. He incited a reaction, and reaped the consequences.
“You are right,” Cassian continued, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “It is so hard, to see the hatred and evil day after day - not only from our enemies, but those within our own community. And those males will probably never change. But so much has changed, and will. The Valkyries are already bringing change in more ways than I think you realize.”
Cassian swallowed thickly, his eyes shining with a brighter kind of emotion. “Remember when I met you and Nesta in town after training at Windhaven last week?” You nodded, curious as to where he was going with this.
“I saw the two of you walking towards me, armed in your uniforms with heads held high. These little girls,” he breathed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “They were watching you from the window. Two little Illyrian girls with a look that I had never seen them have in that town. It was more than admiration, it was hope.”
Hazel eyes bore into you with a captivating earnestness. “You give them hope. Something I am ashamed to say I hadn’t noticed was missing until The Valkyries brought it to them. Those males may not change, but you are helping to build a world for those little girls to be the change.
We can’t change Illyria overnight. But it needs you, because you are making the world a better place for those children - a world with hope, where they can be themselves without fear, because they look at you and know it is possible.”
A sob broke from your lips, relief washing over you like a cool wave at the realization. You would make mistakes, consequences would have actions, people would do wrong by you and others. But as small as your work may feel, you are building a better world for tomorrow.
A shadow wound through your tousled hair, wiping at the salty tears that streaked down your cheeks. Cassian chuckled at the motion, standing from his seat with a grunt. “I think Azriel might be getting impatient out there,” he nodded towards the door. “Go have a good night with your mate.”
You stood, nodding with a sniffle as you wrapped your arms around your friend, his own returning the action with his usual tight squeeze. “Thank you, Cassian. You are a very good friend, and General.”
“I know,” he smirked when you pulled away, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m feeling inspired to go find my Nesta, and remind her just how much better the world is with her.” With a suggestive smirk, he winked and set off towards the library, leaving you laughing softly at his shameless behavior.
You opened the door to the outside where Azriel stood looking out at the sunset, his stillness making him look like a statue until he turned to face you, and you inhaled sharply at the beauty of your mate, a living work of art.
“Are you alright?” he questioned, failing to hide his concern at the still-drying tears on your face. Pushing up on your toes, you pulled him in for a kiss.
“Better than ever,” you murmured against his lips, tugging his soft lower lip between your teeth before pulling away to take his hands in yours. “I’ll tell you everything over dinner. I’m ready to enjoy my night with the one I love.”
That earned a cheeky grin from Azriel, the male effortlessly sweeping you into his arms before setting off to fly across the multi-colored hues of the evening sky, where you clung to the comfort of him.
