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tartelongan · 2 months

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♡◆"The Violet Shadows"◆♡

{A W.I.P. Lychee Dragon Cookie x Shadow Milk Cookie fanfiction} ~ Chapter 1: "The visit that marked the end, from the beginning."

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53949385

Context: Pre-Shadow Milk becoming evil

[I am SO SORRY for the delay in posting this on Tumblr]

On a silent night, where the rustling of leaves in the cold wind were the only symphony to be heard, and even the skim milk river seemed to be silent (perhaps knowing the events to come)... A Cookie, with contemplative eyes, like a pool of misery, sat alone. One eye was a blue as deep as a clear sky, and his right eye was a lovely cyan you might've seen on glow-in-the-dark crystals. One such cavern held crystals like these, teeming with bats with eyes that glowed a similar color, though not nearly as magnificent as Shadow Milk Cookie's. He was sitting alone, just on the grass and rocks right outside of a violet cavern, with a blue satchel over his shoulder. He gazed at the brooch attached to it, a gemstone resembling the Light of Knowledge he carried. Lost in his own thoughts tinted with heavy grief, he slowly made his way into the cave, casting a spell. His staff illuminated the darkness, but the creatures lurking paid him no mind. He had been here many times before, in the Violet Dragon's abode.

These visits had been unbeknownst to the witches, who considered the 5 dragons a flaw. They did not forsee the Earthbread to create them as pillars of the cycle of life. The witches never considered that the life on Earthbread, nothing more than a little pantry to pick from, would develop systems of magic or principles. The dragon eggs appeared, and when they hatched, new magic flooded Earthbread. Longan's birth brought light magic, Lotus's birth brought water magic, Pitaya's birth brought fire magic, and Ananas's birth brought earth magic. The witches did not think much of it at first, the landscape becoming all-the-more tastier, but they soon became angered by the fact they could not control the dragons or their powers. When the last dragon, Lychee Dragon, hatched, dark magic flooded the Earthbread- a very sour contrast to the other magicks. The shadows had always been there, where the light didn't reach, but nothing lurked in them. In the Land of the Witches, they were just empty, unlike fire, water, earth, and light, which held intrinsic magic. Nothing more than a substance, but not a force. Never a source of magic that they knew of, until the birth of Lychee. This unpredictable new source of magic had the witches fuming because they could not use it, as unique to Earthbread as it was. The closest they held was Dark Moon Magic, from the dark side of the moon- though it has a misleading name, as it is only lunar magic with an opposite magnetic force from the light side.

As a retaliation against their Earthbread creating the 5 five dragons (and later, the elementals), the witches decided to bake the 5 Great Cookies. The 5 Great Cookies, who's virtues were pure, were intended to take the place of the Dragons as the sovereigns of Earthbread (with heavy supervision from the witches). Shadow Milk Cookie knew exactly what the witches thought of the dragons, and so he never spoke to them. There was absolutely no reason to, even if it wasn't forbidden. He was much more focused on his studies, studies of all kinds! He focused on bringing civilization to the Cookies, learning new spells, inventing new spells, and learning how to accomplish new tasks for the witches. He was happy enough to help the Cookies, to please his creators, and to wield his blessings, but he never understood one very strange thing to him- his ingredients. He was told that he had been made from shadows because the witches thought that "baking the absence of light into a Cookie would cancel itself out and create light, something, something, about the opposite happening with some Moonlight Cookie and her hair"... but in the Cookie world, the absence of light itself was a force as strong as the light. A magical, strong force. It was not the absence of light, nor could it become light, yet it could glow. A glow that Shadow Milk so-loved. He would never say it, nor admit it to himself, even permit himself to think of it, as the witches forbid the 5 Great Cookies from practicing dark magic... but he was a night owl. He would sit in the shade, where flowers, enchanted, naturally, with this same foreign energy would glow, and that was when he was happiest. When he wielded the warm magic of the Light, only the shadows growing in depth would make this same, soft feeling spread throughout his soul. He never understood his ingredients because he couldn't fathom being made out of something he was not allowed to like, but it didn't matter. He had things to do!

On the day he met Lychee, they caught him by surprise. It was a long time ago, and the witches were out in their own world, on some sort of trip. It happened often, and those were the days Shadow Milk felt the emptiest, for he was left alone with his thoughts. He'd chosen to explore Beast-Yeast, having finished a given list of tasks much earlier than the other 4 Great Cookies, who insisted they did not need his help (they all agreed he usually seemed overworked). He wandered, and he wandered, until he sensed a large amount of that unknown force he so-adored gathered somewhere. Despite this love, fear coursed through his dough as he made his way through thick, lush sections of a forest, some of it melting away into awe when he spotted Lychee. They were in their Dragon Cookie form, inspecting a blue flower with an eye on it. By this point, both Lychee and Shadow Milk had been adults for quite some time. Despite all of those years of research about the dragons, this was the first time he had been in front of one. He had only ever learned about their dragon forms. Not that they could change into Cookies. He felt a light, happy feeling, for Lychee radiated with dark magic, just like him, but he told himself this happiness came solely from the thrill of exploration. He had fear and joy mixing inside of him, and he decided the fear was about approaching them. They were seemingly a completely regular (albeit, strange-looking) Cookie that just so-happened to be connected to dark magic, just like spicy Cookies and fire magic. It was somewhat true, because he didn't dare leave the cover of the leaves, instead freezing in place until Lychee finally spoke to him (because a light blue Cookie isn't very hard to see in green leaves).

They said to him, "Come forth, won't you?" In a voice as sweet as honey.

Shadow Milk stepped towards them, and they giggled, spotting the nervous look on his face, which they took for flustered.

"It's always the same way with you Cookies! You can't help but do what I say!" They looked at Shadow Milk and then back at the flower they held repeatedly.

Shadow Milk looked at them with an expression of confusion, and they raised an eyebrow- usually, Cookies wouldn't react to their statements like that.

"Hello, what is your name?" was the only thing that Shadow Milk asked them, not really thinking about why they said that. Maybe if he was, he would have comprehended that he should be running away or preparing for battle as soon as they said something like that, but he was a little lost in their eyes.

Attempting to ignore the fact he didn't seem all that under their control ("Cookies usually drop to their knees and start worshipping the floor by now"), they bat their eyes. "My name? Does it really matter? Just keep looking into my eyes!" They smirked, perhaps a bit sheepishly.

"They're so beautiful, the way they glow..." He was mesmerized. The glow didn't look like regular light, but energy. Energy that gave off light, yet not light itself? He never really learned about the properties of dark magic.

Shadow Milk had gotten closer to Lychee by this point, studying them, and so they continued trying to hypnotize him. "I like you, blue Cookie", they said. "You look like this flower. You'll come with me, won't you?" They said, with an innocent smile, offering him the flower.

"This is for me?" Shadow Milk questioned, seeing Lychee nod. He took the flower, said "thank you", and then asked Lychee:

"You want me to come with you? Where are you going? And- your name-"

Staring furiously into Shadow Milk's bespectacled eyes, they realized he wasn't falling under their spell at all. "Why aren't my powers working, agh! You're just a Cookie, so-" They made a frustrated noise. "Stop asking me questions, just come with me!" Lychee grabbed Shadow Milk by the hand and flew away, so quickly, at a height low enough for Shadow Milk to run with them.

Running along, dropping the flower, and out of breath from the exhaustion of wandering for so long, he spoke fast and out of order. "No, no, please, tell me, where are your name? I mean, what's your name-"

Losing their temper, they snapped at him, flying faster, still stringing him along, but looking back at him. "Why do you care so much about my name!? I am the Violet Dragon, and that's all you need to know, stup-"

He stopped their motion, tugging their hand as soon as they were about to crash into a tree. They scoffed, and he inspected their features very closely, gasping. "You are... The Violet Dragon? The one the witches..."

They grinned at Shadow Milk's immediate dread. "OHHHH, now I get it, you're one of those five Cookies then, aren't you? The special ones? You-" Their eyes glowed brighter, and they seemed as if they were thinking, their former expression of cheekiness wiped clean off. "But you're made of darkness? You didn't look like it when I saw y-"

Shadow Milk's eyes widened as he interrupted, flinching, since he knew it was rude. "Darkness, no, no, I'm not made of-"

Lychee was ecstatic, "You're like me! You're made almost entirely out of darkness- I can sens-"

He spoke loudly over them as to not have to hear them any longer. He feared what they might say, thinking of the witches' warnings. "No, no, I'm not! I am Shadow Milk Cookie, the Cookie of Knowledge!" He anxiously sped up his talking, "I'm not made out of darkness, because I'm made of... the absence of light from the realm of the Witches- It's- It's completely different! I'm made of regular shadows, and sweet milk, and I'm nothing like you!" He let go of Lychee's hand, defensively, and held his staff as if he was about to cast a spell. He panted, having run out of air and beginning to regret the last part of what he said.

Looking at Shadow Milk's staff, unimpressedly, and simply moving it down, Lychee- snarkily, but calmly enough, began. "Well, then, 'Shadow Milk Cookie'. You're the Cookie of Knowledge, and you didn't know that you're not made of 'the absence of light' anymore?" They proudly smirked, but only for a moment, placing their hand on the side of Shadow Milk's face, brushing his hair away, and staring deeply into his eyes, just like he did theirs.

"You're lying. I am an envoy of the witches, from the land of the Witches. I'm. Not. Made. Of the same thing as you!" He placed his free hand on Lychee's, the one that was holding him, yet found that he hesitated to break away from the touch. They felt as warm to him as the nights where he'd lie in the grass outside, when the moonlight was scarce and shadow covered the land. A droplet of sweat ran down his face as he felt- no, he knew things were about to fall apart for him.

Despite knowing it wasn't their magic doing this to Shadow Milk, they knew they had some effect on him. "Look at you, poor, sweet little Cookie. Those witches must have lied to you... and you believed their little tricks? Tell me, if you were a Cookie of the Witches, would you find my eyes as beautiful as you do? Are they the loveliest you've ever seen?"

"No." he lied, with a stutter.

"You're a very deceitful Cookie." They smiled, wider and wider as they saw the look on his face. With Lychee holding him, and telling him such a thing when he was already being reminded of the fondest memories he held, his face flushed. It was a complete overload for him- a strange experience.

"Aw, look, you're blushing! So cute." Lychee eyed Shadow Milk up and down, and as they did, the slits in Shadow Milk's eyes shrunk in horror.

"May the witches guide me through-"

Lychee became frustrated. "Don't you dare pray near me! Do you really think you and I aren't the same!? I'll show you something that'll change your mind on what you think you know, you pathetic Cookie!" They took their hand off of Shadow Milk's face, grabbing his hair and tugging it in the direction they wanted to go. He yelped, and they let go immediately. Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw Shadow Milk's staff gleam and snatched it out of his hands, flying off with it.

"Come back, wait!" Shadow Milk raced after them, but they were impossibly fast. Thinking quickly at a close enough distance, he grabbed onto the base of his bag and made a throwing motion without letting go of it, the straps lassoing Lychee's left horn. He pulled.

"What- Oh, you stupid Cookie!" They came to a complete stop. "Fine, I'll show you right her-" Their eyes suddenly widened in surprise as Shadow Milk yoinked his staff right out of Lychee's hands and placed the straps of his bag back over his shoulder. They clenched their dough nubs into "fists" and growled. "Don't you dare ignore me, you're nothing but a Cookie, a COOKIE!" Their eyes flashed a bright violet and they quickly (but gently) tugged on Shadow Milk's long, blue and white hair again. It rippled, almost as if enchanted, and then the effect scattered, resembling a dust storm. It revealed a firm veil of dark magical energy where his hair had been. He screamed, just as he did last time, but only from the sight as the blue lines on this black energy opened. Shadow Milk's heart sank as he realized he was being stared at.

"What have you done!?" He yelled, shaking at the sight of the dark matter and thinking to himself that this was the point of no return. He could barely hold his staff from the way he trembled as the eyes gazed at him.

Lychee had let go of his hair immediately and admired it. "Oh, did the witches not tell you that your hair- well, some of it- looks like this? You REALLY thought that little enchantment over it was your real-"

"CHANGE IT BACK." He looked back and forth sporadically from his hands, his hair, and Lychee. The eyes on his hair seemed to be melting, and the matter seemed to drip away (though it was only an illusion). The sight only tripled his horror.

"Calm down. Actually, just look down." Lychee said, beginning to regret their meeting. "The eyes look like that because they're controlled by your emotional state. They're not reaal. Stop focusing on them and THEN look back."

Shadow Milk stared at Lychee quietly, collecting himself, and sure enough, the eyes on his hair stabilized. Even then, he slipped back into his state of panic. "Change my hair back, please! That kind of magic could never come from me."

Yet he wondered. His hair radiated the exact way that Lychee's eyes did. "Oh, I'll never bother you again..." He rubbed the eyes on his face and said the sentence so guiltily. When he opened his eyes again, they were glazed with tears that had yet to fall.

"Don't tell me you-" They stopped themself, changing their snarky tone of voice to a more sincere one... but still, annoyed. "Oh, you're no fun, don't cry, don't cry, ugh, I promise I'll fix it, but you realize what I just showed you, right? Right? You're smart, aren't you?" They came down from hovering, instead standing on the ground, even if they were short compared to Shadow Milk (and most cookies).

"I know it's not true, but, please, tell me you turned my hair into-" his voice broke, "this." He looked at them, sitting down on his knees. "Tell me I'm not this way, that I'm not made of the same shadows that make you up..." He raised a hand to his eyes, even though he knew Lychee saw the droplets.

"So, you want me to lie to you, even though you know we're the same? Don't you like the darkness? You said I had pretty eyes, so what kind of energy do you think they glow from?" They took one of his hands and decided to sit down too.

He pulled his hand back, slowly. "I'm not allowed-"

"But you like it." They took his hand back. "I'll re-enchant your hair, but, are you sure that you hate it?"

"The witches would never let me have my hair like this... Violet Dragon." He looked back at his hair, then at Lychee again, noticing it swung nicely as he moved his head.

"I didn't ask you about what the witches think!" They put an emphasis on 'witches', saying the word like it tasted bad. "I asked you if you like your hair. And... My name is Lychee Dragon Cookie." They grabbed half of Shadow Milk's hair because of the way it was naturally split and gently moved it into Shadow Milk's view.

He whispered, "It reminds me of your eyes", and Lychee immediately knew what he meant.

Their eyes then sparkled with energy once more. "Close your eyes, the two on your face. Just do it." Shadow Milk obliged, and they re-enchanted his hair. It looked like regular cream again, just like the chunks of his hair that actually were like that. They then tapped Shadow Milk's shoulder, and he opened his eyes, seeing that the shadowy, glowy, magical eye having energy that was his hair, was now back to looking like frosting.

"You- you fixed it!" Shadow Milk smiled as Lychee let go of his hair, though he winced. He noticed just how abnormally his hair moved compared to other Cookies, no doubt a result of the enchantment. It didn't bounce like how Eternal Sugar or Burning Spice's hair bounced, nor did it sweep like theirs did. It was always a little strange, and now...

"There you go, milk boy. Are you going to do what you said and never talk to me ever again, now?" Lychee bat their eyes at Shadow Milk.

He looked at them and- and he didn't know.

"Fine, fine, what if I show you something else? You're hard to please." Lychee playfully rolled their eyes and waited eagerly for what Shadow Milk would say.

"Well, the witches-"

"Won't be back for a week!" Lychee interrupted. "So, you have all the time in the world, come on, I'll tell you how I know- I'll show you!"

"If... you're not about to show me something dangerous..." He watched Lychee stand up and begin walking, and he followed, though, reluctantly...

Lychee looked back at him as they walked and smiled. "Everything's a little dangerous, Shadow Milk Cookie. Now, what if I pick you up and just take you to where we're going to go?"

Shadow Milk looked at them worriedly, "Aren't you... kind of small, for that? Walking is fine."

"Alright, then..." Lychee sighed and walked forwards slowly, with Shadow Milk following them at a normal pace. Eventually, Shadow Milk ended up in front of them, and stopped in confusion. He looked behind him, and found nobody to be there. Looking forward again, Lychee sweep-kicked his legs and caught him, carrying him bridal-style. He yelped and they leaned their face to his. "Do you still think I can't carry you? Hahaha!" Shadow Milk shook his head gently and carefully used Lychee's shoulders to let himself down, despite the fact he could've just jumped. "What's the headshake mean, Shadow Milk Cookie?", they said, now walking in front of Shadow Milk in the right direction.

"It means... You're really strong, Lychee Dragon Cookie..."

"I know." They replied, still in front of Shadow Milk and never looking back at him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they didn't see him blush.

~~~

disclaimer since I was asked by someone.... no, shadow milk isn't bald. lychee didn't make him bald😭😭😭 his hair is enchanted to look like regular frosting/cream hair, but not all of his hair is like that. part of his hair is the dark shadowy energy thing that it is in his canon sprites 😭😭😭 please let me know if this is a widespread misconception 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO let me know if I should continue coloring in the pronoun words and any important words like I did here!!! i thought it might be nice but it may be annoying for some!! sorry for any mistakes. he/him for shadow milk, they/them for lychee

#The Violet Shadows #Cookie Run #crk #cookie run kingdom #Cookie Run: Kingdom #Cookie Run Kingdom #fanfiction #shadowlychee #cookie run fanfic #cookie run fanfiction #i wanted to cry so bad when someone asked me if shadow milk turned bald #guys no this is the catalyst to him questioning the witches i SWEAR HE'S NOT BALD he just has lovely dark magic hair with. eyes on it.#shadow milk cookie #lychee dragon cookie #cookie run

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beldaroot · 1 year

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"i need your help, professor!" - witch hat atelier chapter 65

#witch hat atelier #wha #wha chapter 65 spoilers #anyone else crying screaming throwing up right now?!#oh coco.... if only you knew his sins and how much disarray he's been caught in!!!#it really is so sick bc she does parallel qifrey in so many ways... and for her to think that's a reason to trust him...#when in reality it's actually the thing that might put her in harm's way and be her downfall is sooooooo ?!@%*&(&!*@($^&#her being like 'i trust YOU so pls trust in ME!!' - i'm actually on the floor sobbing - beldaruit's lil scales are so unbalanced here OTL #man i really hope her trust isn't broken by him :((((#ok but let's also talk about this paneling too OMG the way he's constantly divided and a mix of dark shadow and open light!!!#behind every gay person there is a more evil gay person slkdjflkdsjf

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aquariusvibes-arch · 1 year

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AQUARIUSVIBES. a mutually exclusive and selective time witch oc conjured by the chaotic mind of phantom ( she/her & 34 ). previously @timerevolt .

You know you can't cheat tomorrow If you hide it'll end in sorrow !

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heinekenskyw4lker · 1 year

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i want someone to look at me like winifred look at and coo at her precious boooooook. but i guess these modern times are boring af a girl cant even freely donate a piece of her skin suit to serve as a wicked witch's magicky devil soups repertoire's cover with feelings and opinions. bummer.

#YOU KNOW WHAT TURN ME INTO A FUCKING GRIMOIRE ALRIGHT #GIVE ME PURPOSE.#bind a witch's book of shadow with my love handles or whatnot its a good deal i promise wjwjwjwjid #no but the more i pay attention to winnie's body language and speech pattern to book i end up seeing myself with my cat who's like????#ya know what was also hella funny in hp2? winnie reuniting with book dropping it and going #'oh my darlin' they hurt you'#its the way she says it with the CLONK sound when it hit the floor wosjzjzj #then telling sarah SHE dropped it lmao #fun fact books actually bound with real human skin are the outmost delicate man-made stuff like you shouldnt even handle it with gloves #I'VE SEEN IT #they're a far cry from looking and feeling like the Necronomicon in evil dead or Booooook like #thats incheresting indeed #winifred sanderson #shitpost

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1introvertedsage · 1 year

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Ditch

If I tried to push my life story away

I'd say it belonged in a ditch.

For my character in every story

was that of the Heinous Bitch.

Changing the rhyme

at the sign of the times

attributes to that of a witch.

Singing for souls

rested head upon coals

the program beginning to glitch.

Seeing dark shadows

a crying child below

secrets of many the rich.

Take your time

drink the wine

binding losing it's stitch.

New tales get told

half truths get sold

simple minds are simple to switch.

Lose your cool

play the fool

end up right back in the ditch.

~Ruby L. S. ~

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talesofourworlds · 2 years

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1 6 7 9 10 12 14 18 19 21 24

1. which of your muses is the pickiest eater?

Guy, Jade, and Asch are the only ones of my muses that canonically have any disliked foods, but I don't think either of them are the pickiest out of all of my muses.

I'd tend to lean toward Rita probably being the pickiest, since she canonically likes to read while she eats and I remember there being a skit where this was brought up. She tends to prefer food that she can eat one handed so she can read while she eats. I honestly also could see Jay being a tiny bit pickier than the others, if only due to having the Oresoren as family and thus probably preferring seafood like they do.

6. which of your muses has the most unique comfort food?

Probably Ludger! Pasta margherita is 100% a comfort food for him.

7. do any of your muses have issues remembering things?

Ludger has the worst of it when it comes to memory issues. He has no memories from before he started permanently living with Julius as his caretaker due to trauma and shock of events that happened prior to that. Guy has some to a lesser extent, but only of a specific memory and that stops being an issue after a certain point in the timeline when he does remember. Chloe and Rinwell kind of do? But not really to the same extent as Ludger and Guy because Rinwell does basically immediately recognize her family's killer as soon as she hears their laugh, and Chloe only really didn't remember the exact face of her family's killer prior to her character quest.

9. which of your muses tends to be the group “mom friend”?

Probably Jude. Except when he isn't, because while he's good at taking care of everyone else's needs he's terrible at taking care of his own needs.

10. have any of your muses ever experienced sleep paralysis?

No, I don't think any of them have! Fortunately!

12. which of your muses has the most unsteady sleep schedule?

Probably Jude! This is both due to having been a medical student and just... generally not taking care of himself.

14. which of your muses second guesses themselves the most? why?

For the most part they're all pretty sure of themselves when they make decisions! I'd probably say Ludger is a little more likely to second guess himself, though.

18. which of your muses has had the weirdest dream? what was it about?

Okay, hear me out when I say Jay. I imagine when he first started really getting used to living with the Oresoren, and it started getting colder, he didn't expect that Pippo, Poppo, and Quppo would all start cuddle puddling him to make sure he was warm. So I imagine the first night it happened, he had this dream where he got surrounded by big, fluffy clouds. Except the clouds were really thick, and after a bit he found he couldn't breathe. And when he woke up, he found himself right underneath a pile of three Oresoren brothers all trying to keep him warm. He had a talk with them the next day about appreciating the cuddle puddle, but mentioning that they should make sure he was able to breathe next time.

19. which of your muses has the funniest story from childhood? what is it?

Probably Repede! It was after Yuri left the knights. Repede was still getting used to living with Yuri in the lower quarter, and he was running around to try and see how fast he was. One thing led to another and he wound up skidding while trying to round a corner and falling right into the river. Yuri happened to be nearby, so was able to fish him out, but Repede did get laughed at a bit after because he looked ridiculous all sopping wet. Repede likes to pretend it didn't happen, but is kind of amused looking back on it.

21. which of your muses tends to get attached to people / things the fastest?

Ion, for sure! He loves his friends dearly, especially Anise, and got attached to her in particular pretty quickly after she became his Fon Master guard. You might even say she's his most cherished. It helps that he has a tendency to see the best in people.

24. which of your muses would be most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse?

Not a huge fan of zombie apocalypse scenarios, but here we go!

Jade, Hubert, Chloe, Asch, Sync, and Aegis all probably have the best chances due to their backgrounds in knighthood/soldier training. Jude and Jay stand a pretty good chance as well, both being very tactical minded and logical. Jude probably would need someone keeping an eye out for him, though, if self care still isn't his highest priority. Guy and Repede all also stand pretty good chances, I think. Edna probably could handle herself just fine on her own too.

Rinwell probably wouldn't last very long unless she were to group up with other survivors. She can hold her own, don't get me wrong, but unless she was in a super good groove of casting her artes she probably would get overwhelmed, especially on her own.

Same applies to Rita. She's more than capable of fighting and is an excellent spell caster, but even with her best artes I don't think she'd survive for very long completely on her own unless she got really lucky.

Magilou also probably would need a group's help to survive, assuming they can put up with her.

Ion... sorry, baby boy, but he wouldn't last long at all even with his Daathic fonic artes. Especially with his Daathic fonic artes since they tend to take a lot out of him.

Ivar probably would get himself into a terrible situation pretty quickly and either die heroically or like an idiot.

Ludger and Eizen are both in the tragic fate train. They both could put up a fight and last for a good while, but sooner or later the Reaper's Curse would catch up to Eizen and he'd meet a tragic end. And Ludger probably would go out protecting Elle.

#ooc #Seeking Victory (Chloe)#Knowledge from the Shadows (Jay)#Always One Step Ahead (Jade)#There in a Flash (Guy)#Beacon of Hope (Ion)#Fury Like a Tempest (Sync)#Crimson Pride (Asch)#Pyrokinetic Genius (Rita)#Resound O Cry of Victory (Repede)#Keeps His Friends Close (Hubert)#Diligent Heart (Jude)#Duty Bound Dingus (Ivar)#Soft Spoken Scion (Ludger)#Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna)#Follows His Creed (Eizen)#A Witch Never Reveals Her Secrets (Magilou)#Lance That Lights the Way (Aegis)#Magical Birdie Bestie (Rinwell)

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prythianpages · 4 months

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A Field of Dandelions

azriel x witch!reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps.

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact.

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and polished wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness.

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could.

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away.

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake.

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake.

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before gracefully flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the delicate fragrance surrounding you–a symphony of floral notes. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions becomes a mesmerizing dance, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes ready to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation: “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.”

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the brief darkening of your eyes and the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away. He doesn’t deserve you.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the delicate stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating in a joyful dance. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him. A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A gentle breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a delicate constellation of possibilities.

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face. Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile graces his lips.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching. Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood. Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance.

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

“We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion.

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add: “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen.

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

“This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him.

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved.

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“I only wished for you to be mine.” He says, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

here's like an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar x you #az!dandelions

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 1 month

Text

Claiming

Requests:

Based on the HC

Wordcount: 3.7K+

Masterlist

Description: A Wedding of a Harkonnen Warrior and Atreides was written in the stars.... but no one saw that Paul would become Emperor and Feyd would be the last standing Harkonnen. The only thing to bind these two great houses is a wife that needs to be claimed.

A/N: This took so fucking long. Oh my god, I am sorry it took way too long. This was more difficult than I thought it would be, but still had fun writing these two crazy guys and their wife.

Warning: Dark Feyd. Dark Paul Blood lots of blood, crying, pain, dacryphilia, possessive Paul & Feyd dagger kink. Smut, breeding kink, dubcon, claming. Throple, passing out.

“You look beautiful. No bride has ever looked as breathtaking as you,” Margot said as she placed the chained veil over your face. She smiled warmly at you, or as warmly as she knew how to.

There was no warmth being a Bene Gesserit. Something that you were more than happy with. There was a time when you were younger when you fantasized about this scenario. Getting married and having a family, a home that wasn’t dark, cold, and in the shadows. The Reverend Mother made sure you stopped fantasizing. She let you know your only use was your womb and the child you would have. And you were okay with it. You had to be okay with it.

“You should be grateful. It is an honor to be chosen by the most powerful men in the universe,” Barked the voice of the women that put you in this position. Lady Jessica, the new Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother.

She was the reason your fate had changed. “The only person that should be grateful is you, Reverend Mother,” you said with hatred. “If not for me, who would fix the mistake you made. Falling in love and giving the duke a son.”

You were getting dressed for your wedding because she was stupid enough to fall in love. She ruined the plan and now you were to be punished for it. She glared at you and made her way over to you and grabbed the back of your neck.

“You will do well to mind your tongue, lest you want Feyd to cut it out.”

Her threat did the trick, you shut your mouth. You often got into trouble as a child never being about to keep your opinion and comments to yourself. The times you were left in a dark room or whipped into submission should have cured you, but it cursed you. It was why you were picked by the Heads of House Atreides and Harkonnen.

“I like your fire, I can’t wait to snuff it out,” Feyd said after you spit in his face when he grabbed your backside.

You scoffed and tried to pull away when you backed into someone else. Looking up, you saw the new emperor, Paul Atreides.

“Hello, little witch,” Paul chuckled placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, cousin?” He asked Feyd but his eyes never left your face. His gaze bored into your eyes, glowing at the defiance he saw within yours. A smirk danced on his lips, and he leaned closer to you. You turned your head to look away from them both.

“I think she is an excellent choice. Beautiful, lively, and amusing,” Feyd chuckled, his lips biting harshly at your neck. He broke the skin and you gasped struggling to get away from them, but their grips were iron and you were stuck.

“I am a person,” you said. “If we must produce, we can be civil about it.”

Paul laughed this time and grabbed your throat pulling your head back until you were locked in his gaze once more. “We plan to more than produce with you. Has your coven not told you what we want of you?”

You tried to keep the confusion off your face, but their laughter told you that you failed. Grinding your teeth, you closed your eyes. A slap to your face had you gasping and opening your eyes. Feyd shoved his tongue done your throat and Paul took his place biting your neck.

You groaned and bit Feyd, but he only moaned and forced the mix of your blood and his down your throat. Moving in sync, Feyd moved to tear your clothes off and Paul’s mouth was on yours.

“Bite me,” he ordered.

You did as the order wished over you and his blood filled your mouth. You whimpered slightly but neither of them cared as they marked. A knock on the door had them pulling away and a Bene Gesserit walked in. You were too lightheaded to know which one.

“Have you made your choice, My lords?”

You learned that they didn’t just want a child. No, to bind House Atreides and House Harkonnen, they needed something to keep the houses united or more like someone. Your glorious purpose, the reason for your birth was to fix the mistake of Lady Jessica having Paul.

“Can’t they just marry each other,” you complained to Margot. She snorted and ducked her head when the other shot us both dark looks. I shrugged; it was a valid question with the amount of sexual tension those two had every time they were together.

“Brides should be seen not heard,” Jessica snapped, cupping her growing belly. You nodded with a tight smile and stood up in your green and black dress that honored both of their houses. You walked to the mirror to see yourself, but you didn’t care.

The hall appeared empty as the double doors opened and you walked in, but you knew that there were eyes in the shadows. A heated glare from the front room had you smirking slightly. The former princess hated you for being in the place she wished to be. You would happily give her your place, but you disliked her so you would pretend to be happy to spite her.

You stood in front of the Reverend Mother with your black turn as you waited for your husband to enter the sacred hall. The doors opened and they both entered but you still kept your gaze followed. You hated how you knew which steps belonged to her. Paul’s steps were light and purposefully with all the confidence, but Feyd strutted with heavy steps like a tiger waiting to pounce.

“Finally, the Great Houses will be united and with this union, our Kwisatz Haderach will be unstoppable. No other house will try to rise against you both. And the children produced will rule the known universe forever,” The Reverend Mother said.

The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you were led out into the Arena. You would laugh at their arrogance if you weren’t in the position you were in. They flew all the way to House Harkonnen and invited people from all over the universe for your claiming. You thought you had gotten lucky when your wedding night came without you being torn apart by them, but it seemed they were binding their time. Playing some sick game of foreplay to keep you on edge.

You were dragged to the center of the arena and told to kneel in the sand. “Bite me, bitch,” you mumbled to the Harkonnen warrior that forced you down. He ignored you and took the cloak off your shoulder. The crowd's cheers grew as they saw your mesh chain dress that left you completely exposed to their hungry gaze.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. You would just pretend you were anywhere else but here. You ignored the slight tremble of excitement that crawled up your spine. If things were done differently, if you had a different life maybe you would fantasize about being taken so primally. The vulgar cheers from the crowd made it hard to find any enjoyment.

Chants of Paul’s name let you know he had entered the arena. You looked up to see him stalking towards you with all the finesse of a panther. His clothes let everyone know that he was the emperor and in charge. He smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

“Hello, my pet,” he said when he stood behind you, placing his hand on the back of your head. You bristled at his touch but made no other acknowledgment of his presence.

Feyd entered with cheers, and you couldn’t help but look his way. He was only in black leather pants that rode low on his waist. He, of course, was putting on a show for the crowd. Waving his arms around and egging them to cheer more.

He grinned widely and turned his gaze to you. He kept your gaze locked as he pulled his dagger out and pointed it at you suggestively.

“Maybe, if you are good for us, Feyd will fuck you with that handle. Won’t you like that?” Paul whispered in your ear. You shivered and looked back down at the sand. Your breathing picked up and you couldn’t tell if it was fear or lust.

Feyd took long strides to get to you both and toss you into the sand on your back. Your eyes widened as you stared up at your husbands as they leered down at you with lust-filled eyes. Feyd licked his lips and Paul reached down to grab you.

You gasped scrambling away from them. Your heart was beating fast and every vein in your body to run. To get as far away as you could from them and to hide, but it would be pointless. It would probably even turn them on. Looking at them they both stared down at you in amusement. They wanted you to run and you didn’t want to play into their hands.

“What are you going to do, little fox?” Feyd chuckled.

And with that, you decided to run. Scrambling to your feet you took off in the opposite direction of them as fast as you could. They both laughed loudly, and the crowd followed suit. They were mocking you, but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

“How about a wager, Emperor?” Feyd said. “The first one to catch her gets to have her first?”

Paul grinned and pulled out his own dagger. “You’re on.”

You cursed and ran towards the door. You knew it would be locked but it was the only place you could go. You wanted to bang on the door until it opened. Maybe one of your Bene sisters would take pity on you.

Paul took off running, but Feyd was quick to tackle him into the sand. Paul glared up at him and pressed his dagger to his throat. The crowd stilled and you froze to stare back at them. Feyd grinned down at Paul pressing himself into Paul’s dagger.

“What are you doing?”

“This is a claiming, isn’t it? We are bonded as we are to her, are we not?” Feyd grinned wickedly, his voice echoing around the dome.

“You fucking wish you could claim me,” Paul growled knocking Feyd off of him and straddling his waist. “I will slit your throat.”

“Will you? My Emperor,” Feyd teased.

Paul dug his dagger in Feyd’s neck and Feyd chuckled as the blood dipped down the knife. Paul narrowed his eyes pulled his knife back and licked the blood off. “I will deal with you later, Feyd Rautha,” He stood up.

Feyd loved getting under Paul’s skin and striking out at him, grabbing his ankle, and sending him to the ground. With a hand on Paul’s neck, his gaze lifted to you and your breath caught at the unadulterated stare.

“I’m going to catch her and fuck her into the sand and then you are next.” He spoke to Paul, but his gaze never left yours. You tore your gaze away and ran again trying to put as much distance between you and them. You cursed yourself for getting distracted by them.

Paul drove his dagger into Feyd's side. “I’ll catch her and then teach you a lesson on respect.” And then he was up and running after you. Your eyes widened. The last thing you wanted was for your husbands to kill each other. The marriage was supposed to stop the fighting between the two houses.

Feyd chuckled digging his fingers into his wounded side and smearing the blood on his face and took off after Paul. You ran left but Paul stood with a smirk on your face and when you turned to the right, Feyd stood there.

“Whose it’s going to be, little witch?” Feyd laughed.

You flipped him off and backed yourself into a corner as they both boxed you in. You glared at them both. Paul was the lesser of two evils but with how railed up he was you were unsure. “My husbands, shall we take a break, yes?”

Paul laughed and lunged at you, but Feyd lunged at Paul causing them both to tumble to the ground. They struggled for control, shoving each other and biting and tearing at each other clothes. Feyd pinned Paul with his legs and chuckled as he wrapped his hand around his throat.

“Yield, Emperor.”

“Paul dug his fingers into Feyd's side. Feyd moaned and Paul flipped him over. “Do you like moaning for your Emperor?” He asked his nose brushing against Feyd.

You thought now was the perfect time to sneak passed them and add distance but the moment you took a step both of them snapped their gaze to you. You gasped and backed up against the wall once more. You squeezed your thighs together and looked away from them.

Paul leaned closer to Feyd and whispered something that you were unable to hear because of the pounding of your heart. You risk it and go to run past him but in sync. Feyd grabs you around the waist and Paul grabs your shoulder. You fought against them, kicking and screaming, but they ignored you as they pulled you into the center of the arena.

“You’ve been caught, little fox. It is time we put out your little fire,” Feyd said, shoving you completely into Paul’s hold as he began to take off your dress. You continue to glare and fight them until Paul twists your arm behind your back and roughly cups one of your breasts. A moan slips out despite yourself and Feyd laughed.

“Do you like it rough, little fox? We can be rough if that is what you want, Can’t we Paul?”

Paul laughed and twisted your nipple and bit your jaw. “We can be as rough as you want, Pet.”

“Fuck you, both,” you winced as they shoved you to the ground on your hands and knees. You try to turn around to face them, but your head is shoved into the sand. A tight grip on your neck warned you to stay down so you kept your face buried in the sand.

You feel humiliated. You hated your husbands and you hated yourself for being so turned on. Their presence was overwhelming, and you closed your eyes trying to dissociate with everything. Trying to ignore the crowd of people watching you.

A hand came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out. They both chuckled and the hand came again and again, until you were sobbing into the sand. Your knees shook and you were afraid you would collapse, and you could feel slick run down your thighs.

“Look how wet our little wife is,” Paul said teasingly pushing two of his long fingers inside cunt. You gasped. You’ve been curious before about your body. You knew about pleasure, heard about it from the other girls, even been touched by them, but never had anything been inside of you.

“Such a greedy little thing she is,” Feyd agreed. “Look at how she is taking your fingers,” He moved around until he was in front of you. Grabbing your hair, he pulled your head and forced you to look at him. “So pretty when you cry for us.”

You wanted to spit a curse at him, but Paul curved his fingers and your mouth opened and you moaned loudly. Feyd’s eyes darkened at your noise, and he tugged your hair harshly. With his free hand, he pulled his cock out stroking himself as he watched Paul add another finger and your moans grew louder.

He was at a crossroads. He wanted to choke you on his cock but the sounds you were making were too good to lose. Feyd looked from you to the curly-haired Emperor a smirked split his face as an idea formed. “My Emperor, don’t you think her noises are just too good to muffle?” He asked, slapping your breasts to prove his point when you gasped.

Paul was transfixed with your tight little cunt. You were so greedily sucking him in, stretching so well for him. The perfectly little pet for him and his cousin. He didn’t look up at Feyd’s words, but he nodded in agreement. “It would be a shame to lose such pretty sounds.

“Then we are in agreement,” Feyd said, dropping your head and moving to grip Paul’s curls and pulling his hand back.

“What the are you-” Paul’s words were cut off as Feyd’s cock was forced between his lips. Paul glared up at Feyd and tried to move his hand, but Feyd’s grip didn’t let up as he shoved his cock down Paul’s throat. Feyd groaned as Paul’s throat constricted around him.

Paul’s anger turned on you, as he shoved you onto the ground and shoved his fist into your cunt. You screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure, your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you came around his fist. Paul didn’t stop, he fucked you as hard as Feyd fucked his throat. The crowd watched transfixed the way you all moaned and lost yourself.

Feyd gripped Paul’s chin pulling his cock out slowly. Looking at the fucked out looked on the emperor’s face. Saliva dropped down Paul’s face and Feyd chuckled darkly. “As much as I would like to spill myself down your throat. I think our wife should get my seed first.”

Paul stood up and shoved Feyd away from him. He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to your feet. “Undress me, pet,” he ordered. You whined you were still reeling from your orgasm but made quick work of his cock. His cock was hard, and you licked your lips staring at him. A moment that didn’t go unnoticed by your husbands.

“You will get a taste, but my cock will fuck you open first,” Paul said, gripping your waist and hoisting you into his arms. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his shoulder. Feyd pressed himself against your back, boxing you between the two of them. Feyd gripped one side of your hip and Paul grabbed his cock guiding it to your cunt and forcing his way into you in one thrust. You gasped and you released a long drawn-out moan.

“Fuck, little pet. You are so fucking tight,” Paul groaned.

“And she’s about to be tighter,” Feyd said.

His words registered a second later when you felt his cock rubbing against your clit and pressing against your already stuffed hole. “Wait, Wait. No. You can’t,” you gasped struggling against the two of them.

“Enough,” Paul said, biting your neck. You ignored him as Feyd’s pushed his cock into your cunt. You felt as if you were being torn apart. You dug your nails into Paul’s shoulder and his teeth dug into your neck more.

Feyd growled when you refused to open up for him. “Fuck, let me in,” He ordered, grabbing both your hips and forcing you down on his cock. Your mouth flew open, but no sound came out. Your vision blurred and you fainted from the pain.

“Looks like our little witch couldn’t handle us,” Paul chuckled, pressing your hair out of your face.

Feyd scoffed, grabbing your head and tugging it roughly until your eyes blinked. “You need to be awake for your claiming, little fox,” Feyd said, slapping your face.

“Too full,” you said through clenched teeth. You hated that the pain was fading, and you were starting to enjoy the feeling of your husbands fucking into you. You bit your lower lip and dug your nails into Paul’s shoulders.

“Don’t be stubborn, pet,” Paul said. He and Feyd work in sync as they fucked you. One thrust into you and the only pulled out so you were never empty.

“Don’t fight it. You love us using you. Go ahead and moan for us,” Feyd said. He grabbed your breasts and twisted your nipples. You cursed and moaned out. The noise rang throughout the arena but you didn’t care anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Please, feels so good,” you begged, feeling tears running down your face. Paul laughed, grabbed the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. He devoured your mouth, shoving his tongue down your throat. Moaning, you bit his tongue. Paul chuckled pulling back from the kiss. Feyd was instantly kissing you, biting your tongue, and exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around their cocks as you moaned into Feyd’s mouth and came, soaking both their cocks.

“Fuck, squeeze our cocks, little witch,” Feyd groaned forcing himself faster and harder inside of you. Paul moaned and pulled you closer to his body. Feyd shoved himself closer to you both, causing you all to fall on the floor. But they didn’t stop, Paul slapped your ass, and you rode his cock as Feyd drilled into you from behind.

“Do you love how my cock feels against yours inside of our wife?” Paul taunted Feyd.

Feyd growled and leaned over you and bit Paul’s lip. Your chest pressed against Paul’s and Fedy pressed into your back. You bit Paul’s chest and he threw his head back moaning as he came. Feyd laughed, pulling out of you, giving his cock a few pumps, and cumming on both your spend bodies.

Paul pulls out of you and shoves you into the sand. You moved into your elbows, but he shoved you back down. “We are not done with you yet, wife. We will claim you until the sun goes down and then we will take you to our chambers where you’ll stay until you are carrying an heir.”

Feyd spread your legs and slapped your ruined cunt. “Look at you, gaping from our cock. Are you ready for another round?” He asked, slapping your cunt again.

You whined but glared at both of them as they stared down at you. “Well, get on with it then,” you said, though you were more than happy to be claimed by them again and again and again.

Taglist.

@mel-vaz

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

@valencia-rou

@groovyqueer

@tchalamss

@daydreaming-peach

@wandasforyou

@creamsweets

@moon-poe

@rougegenshin

Feyd Taglist

@18lkpeters

@dvmb4ssbiatch

@mystifiedfan

@avidreader73

@waywardkryptonitenightmare

979 notes · View notes

dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 8 months

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Not me getting so bored I make hobbit photo cards 😭😭😭

I’ve put way too much effort into the back designs

In the mini album ^^^

Bonus:

I’ve given in and now I’m making more :’)

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highladyandromeda · 1 month

Text

Shadows of the Heart

Prologue

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions.

Y/n’s powers are inspired by Scarlet Witch from Marvel. She is a sorceress living in Vallahan, with her family hailing from the night court.

Word count: 1k-ish

Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, but nothing particularly graphic

Azriel stood off to the side, quietly observing the cozy scene in the House of Wind's living room. There was Feyre, nestled comfortably on Rhys's lap, her giggles echoing softly as she leaned in to catch his whispered words. In the corner, Amren made an art out of lounging, a smirk playing on her lips as she peered over her wine glass. Cassian had wrapped an arm around Nesta, her head bent together with Gwen and Emerie, engrossed in a lively discussion about their latest read. The ambient buzz of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses filled with Rhys's impressive wine, created a backdrop of contented harmony.

Azriel tried his best to shove aside the twinge of jealousy that crept up on him, watching his brothers and their bliss. He didn't want to feel like just an onlooker, basking in the warmth of their happiness, yet here he was. His mind wandered to Elain, who had opted for an early night. Would her presence have allowed him to drift away from this feeling, to find solace in her gentle smiles and tender gazes? It seemed chasing fae after fae with hearts as bright as the sun was his lot in life. Yearning for a sliver of light in his shadowed existence, a beacon like Elain, or Mor, someone to take him out—that's when he noticed it—his shadows, usually so still, began to stir anxiously around him.

In danger, in danger, they whispered, urgency threading through their murmurs.

In pain. Falling, falling, the ones closest murmured, their voices escalating into a desperate shout.

Springing to his feet, Azriel scanned the room, brushing off the puzzled glances thrown his way. Then, a sharp thud echoed, quickly followed by a cry that cut through the relaxed chatter. In a heartbeat, he was dashing towards the balcony, with Rhys and Cassian hot on his heels, all three propelled by the sudden urgency to uncover the source of the disturbance that had just intruded upon their peaceful evening.

Bursting through the balcony doors, Azriel was met with a scene that defied all expectations. Chaotic runes smeared across the floor in hasty, overlapping strokes forming an intricate magical circle. At its heart lay two figures: a faerie kneeling, her skin so pale it shimmered with almost ethereal light, ebony locks sprawling untidily about her. Her eyes, aglow with an intense crimson, matching the runes surrounding her, pierced through the night. Dark stains marred her robes—wounds, he realized, still seeping blood from her arm and leg. She cradled Mor’s head in her lap, their gazes locking in a moment so profound, that Azriel felt the world around him come to a standstill. He swore he felt his heart stutter, a memory long forgotten trying to urge its way out. Mor, his attention snapped to, was equally pale, her lips tinged a sickly shade of blue.

“What did you do to–” Just as Azriel began, he saw the female look behind him, exclaiming, “Rhys!

“Y/n?” Rhys ran to her, his hands frantic, unsure of whether to hold her or lean for Mor.

“Rhys” She began again, her breaths coming out in spurts. She grabbed his hand as he leaned down to hold her, “Poison…she’s been poisoned, needs tonic–”

Barely finishing her sentence, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, Rhys’s hands halting her from hitting the floor.

“Call for Madja” Rhy yelled. “Mor’s been poisoned and perhaps Y/n as well.”

Before Azriel could react, Cassian stepped up, carefully lifting Mor, while Rhys carried Y/n, both moving swiftly back into the sanctuary of the house.

They found a bedroom with two twin beds, laying one on each.

Madja, a whirlwind of expertise, raced around both, focusing her skills on stabilizing Mor's precarious state. Meanwhile, Rhys was tasked with a grim duty, pressing down on Y/n's wounds, which despite the salves and a plethora of cloths, continued bleeding relentlessly.

"It's the runes," Amren interjected, her voice slicing through the turmoil like a blade. All eyes, save for Madja's, who momentarily lessened the fervor of her tonic mixing, turned to her.

"She utilized ancient magic," Amren stated, her declaration hanging in the air, dense with implications, yet devoid of further explanation, prompting Rhys to press for clarity.

"And that means?"

The urgency lacing Rhys's voice caught Azriel off-guard. Who was this female, who seemed so familiar and why was she so important to Rhys? He felt a spark of anger at the way Rhys held her, despite knowing Rhys's heart belonged to Feyre.

"It means she offered her blood as a sacrifice. Likely to transport herself and Mor here. Inspect Mor for runes," Amren directed without pause.

Before Amren's words could fully settle, Madja cut through the sleeves of Mor’s dress, revealing an arm ensnared by crimson runes, mirroring those that marred the balcony.

It was then that Azriel's senses sharpened, recognizing the scent that pervaded the air—a metallic tang he had initially overlooked in the chaos. Blood. Those runes, those symbols, all wrought from blood. Recollections of the massive circles they had traversed to enter this scene played back in his mind, causing his stomach to churn. It was reflected in Feyre's gasp as she rushed to aid Y/n, while Rhys was overtaken by a wave of nausea.

The room, already tense with fear and uncertainty, was engulfed in a silent horror as Madja's voice, though trembling, broke through the silence. "She's correct. The blood serves as an anchor for Morrigan's soul. The runes must bind Morrigan to..."

"Y/n's," Rhys provided, his voice steady in the thick silence.

"Yes, to Y/n's very essence," Madja concluded. "This means Y/n will continue to suffer, to bleed, until Morrigan shows signs of recovery. In exchange.”

A heavy silence settled over them, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of Madja grinding her herbs, as the gravity of their situation unfolded.

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Author's note: Hi everyone! I’ve been a lurker in the acotar fandom for ages, this is my first time writing, so do let me know what you think. I'm not totally sure how far I want to take this series, but I do have longer chapters planned ahead.

#azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar series #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #rhysand #morrigan #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar

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wandasgf · 2 months

Text

WUNDAGORE. 18+. mdni.

pairing: villain!wanda maximoff + avenger!reader

summary: wanda gets rid of that pesky memory block of yours

warnings: angst, emotional and mental manipulation, mentions of murder, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and confused, one (1) mommy, allusion to smut at the end

wc: 1.6k~

a/n: кошечка (koshechka) = kitty

The wind that blows past is frigid and the rocks underneath your hands are sharp-edged and cold as you stare up at the Scarlet Witch or whatever the hell Wanda was calling herself these days from your place on the ground. You’re tempted to try and kick her feet out from under her where she’s standing above you, catch her off guard and send her tumbling down the cliff, but you don’t. You just glare up at her, knowing that even if you managed to catch her off guard, she would never fall that easily. She would rise up like the most beautiful archdemon you’ve ever seen and deal whatever damage you’d dealt to her tenfold. To anyone who might be watching, lurking in the shadows but not daring to interrupt either of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure hatred, disgust in its purest form that mirrors the look in Wanda’s eyes. But you both know it’s not true, that the hatred disguises something much worse. Something you’d never admit even in the emptiest of places, something Wanda would only ever admit in your dreams. Something that would destroy you both if you’re not careful.

“You’re disgusting.” You spit, icy and cold. “Destroying those universes like it’s nothing, like they’re nothing.” You finally get your bearings back, standing up and clenching your fists at your side, trying your best not to just hit her, punch her, shove her down, anything. “All for what? So you can get back a man who tried to kill you?” Jealousy. “A man who wanted to destroy the universe and start over to create the perfect humanity? You know, the more I think about it, the more I think maybe the two of you really are meant for each other.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Wanda hisses, and you think she might push you down again, but instead she pulls you closer to her by your collar. You can feel her warm breath against your skin and you have to repress a shiver. “You think that you know everything about everyone, don’t you? You think I’m doing this for that man? You think any of this is for him?” She laughs like you’ve just said the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” It’s almost comical to her that you really think that, that you’re so god damn blind that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. She knows why you can’t see it, of course, but she hadn’t always realized how susceptible you were. You can’t see that she’s been trying to find another universe, any other universe where you don’t hate her anymore, where she didn’t fuck everything up and the Avengers didn’t take you away from her.

She knows she should stop talking, she knows she should shut her mouth before she makes things worse, but she can’t stop herself. She knows how to play the role of the villain to a T now, and if the only way she gets to be close to you again is to make you cry then so be it. “You think you’re better than me because you kill people in the name of the Avengers instead of your own?” She laughs, her grip on your shirt tightening. “I have some news for you, little hero, you’re certainly no better than I am. What is it that keeps you there, anyway? You know you don’t belong there.” It’s a low blow, but she knows how true it is even if you no longer do, “Is it the Russian? Do you stay so you can see the look of approval in her eyes whenever you kill someone for her?” Jealousy. “But you’d do it even if she didn’t ask. I’d say you and I are rather the same, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck you!” The smirk that curls on her lips makes you nauseous and you push her away from you. You know that she let you, loosened her grip on your shirt so you could feel like you’re even half as strong as she is, but you don’t care. “I think that I know everything? What about you! Acting like you know anything about me besides what my blood looks like on your hands.” Your hands are shaking both because of the look Wanda gives you and because you’re upset that she would ever bring up Natasha. Upset at the possibility that this encounter would taint your relationship with the Russian redhead, that Wanda’s words would burn at the back of your mind like acid. Because it’s not true, what she said is not true. You don’t like killing those people, you don’t like seeing their blood on your hands or seeing the light drain from their eyes. You don’t like it. You don’t.

Wanda doesn’t have to look into your mind to know what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face. She knows she hit a sore spot with that comment. “I don’t know anything about you?” She tilts her head, taking a step towards you as you take one away from her. “You always talk,” another step forward, “like you know,” and another, “what you’re saying” and then another, you try to take another step backward, but your back hits the jagged wall of the cave, “but you don’t, do you?” Wanda hadn’t been this close to you since she had nearly torn your heart out of your chest and it was making you dizzy. Had she always smelled this familiar and good? You’re very purposefully avoiding eye contact, not wanting to see the satisfaction in her eyes at having cornered you. Suddenly you feel Wanda’s hand gripping your face and forcing you to look at her, “No, you don’t. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Wanda’s eyes glow red for just a minute and you feel like there’s a fog in your brain being lifted before your memories crash down on you like a tidal wave. Wanda’s eyes go back to their regular green color and her hand moves to cup your cheek, her darkened fingertips tapping against your skin. She gives you a second, knows this is going to be a lot for you. She did just unlock over 5 years of forcefully forgotten memories after all. She wasn’t going to do this, it will result in everything the Avengers have at their disposal being thrown at her for taking away their leverage over her, but they shouldn’t have let you come alone and she was growing rather tired of hearing you hurl insults at her and seeing the way you beamed up at Natasha whenever she caught the two of you together. This was poor planning on the Avengers’ part, that’s all.

Suddenly you feel nauseous, every memory you’ve ever had with Wanda hitting you with full force. You feel like you’ve just gotten a metal bat to the gut and then again to your head. You don’t know what to think. Was this real? Did Wanda plant those in your head? No, that didn’t seem right. This would certainly explain the way certain Avengers acted around you and the way you felt when Wanda was near. You were explaining that away as anxiety, nervousness over being so close to someone to dangerous and vile. You lean into the warmth of Wanda’s touch before you can even think about stopping yourself. She can see the way your mind is racing, how your pupils are blown as you try to piece everything together. Eventually, you look up at her with those doe eyes you used to use on her and she almost tears up. “Wanda?” There you are.

“Hi, кошечка. You must be so confused, huh? I know it’s a lot, but I promise things will be better now.” Your head spins at her words and her tone, that tone… everything is too much and not enough all at once. Too much information, but at the same time not enough. Why didn’t you remember any of that before? Why were you ever trying to hurt Wanda? Why was she hurting you back? Was she hurting you back? Why had she been doing all of those horrible things? Your Wanda would never do those things. Except, well, this was your Wanda, so surely that makes it excusable, right? But if she was your Wanda, why weren’t you with her? Wanda taps against your cheek to catch your attention again, noticing how unfocused your eyes are as you spiral in your own mind. “Those Avengers were so mean to take you away from me like they did, trying to turn you against me.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would they do that? I thought they were supposed to be nice, why would they take me from you? Why would… why?” You’re slowly putting the pieces together while trying to cope with the fact that for the past two years you’ve been treating your… your Wanda like an enemy. Your tough exterior is cracking and crumbling as each second goes by, no longer being kept back by the mental barrier you didn’t even know was there. “Oh, my sweet girl, because they’re not nice. They’ve been keeping you like a caged animal, using you like a weapon and tricking you into trusting them.” Wanda’s voice soothes you if only slightly, but the thought of being used like that has you so angry and overwhelmed with all the emotions clashing in your head that you can’t help but let out a quiet whimper, tears forming in your eyes. Wanda coos, bringing you closer and holding you against her chest. She strokes your hair, humming softly before she speaks again, “It’s okay, mommy’s got you. I’ll make it all better, don’t worry.”

#alice's fics !#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch smut

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blackbirdswillsing · 4 months

Text

On Gothic

a cute helpful guide on the gothic subculture that no one asked for <3

goth music springing from the late 1970s after the post punk movement was a subculture heavily inspired by the themes found in victorian gothic literature

gothic literature:

frankenstein - mary shelley

dracula - bram stoker

jekyll and hyde - robert stevenson

wuthering heights - emily bronte

rebecca - daphne du maurier

edgar allen poe <3

some keywords that come from gothic literature that can help you spot a goth song:

'dark' 'death' 'black' 'cold' 'heaven' 'hell' 'witches 'bats' 'night' 'roses' 'blood' 'church' 'forest' 'jesus' 'grey' 'horror' 'shadow' 'sacrifice' 'tears' 'ghost' 'spells' 'cry' 'love' 'haunted' 'funeral' 'cathedral'

Some other themes in a song that can help you to decide if it goth or not can be:

heavy bass

synth sounds (the song sounds like it was recorded in an empty church)

mysterious and whimsical vocals

deep vocals

lack of a (electric) guitar

The 1980's and 90's were the peak for the gothic subculture, especially in camden market, london, england

Some bands that were prominent at the time were...

Bauhaus

The Cure

Sisters of Mercy

Siouxsie and the Banshees

Christian Death

Clan of Xymox

The Cramps

Depeche Mode

New Order

Joy Division

Alien Sex Fiend

Fields of the Nephilim

Killing Joke

The Damned

Nick Cave

Softcell

Some other goth band recs:

Boy Harsher

Children on Stun

Earth Calling Angela

Molchat Doma

Forever Grey

Horror Vacui

Lebanon Hanover

London After Midnight

Male Tears

The March Violets

The Merry Thoughts

Paradise Lost

Paralysed Age

Plastique Noir

Rendez Vous

Rosetta Stone

Selofan

She Wants Revenge

Skinny Puppy

Specimen

This Cold Night

Tragic Black

Traitrs

Type O Negative

Twin Tribes

ULTRA SUNN

Xmal Deutschland

Your Funeral

The 69 Eyes

Please let me know which ones i've missed because these are just ones that I have taken from my own playlist!

The music is the number one most important part of goth subculture and you don't have to dress goth to be goth... but it sure is fun to do so! Goth fashion holds its roots in thrifting, upcycling and sustainable fashion (buying 'goth' clothes from shein, dollskill and killstar is a big no no).

Anyone can style their gothic outfits however they like but here are some examples of different styles:

Trad(itional) Goth:

Romantic Goth:

Victorian Goth:

The styles can get very similar so let me know if i’ve mixed any up!

I’ve reached the limit on the number of pictures i can add so here are some more examples of goth styles:

Corporate goth

Gothabilly

Mall Goth

Cyber Goth

J-Goth

Baby Bat

Mopey Goth

Vampire Goth

Steam punk

To end the post i'm circling back to gothic literature by listing some films too (which are often based on the books)

Everyone's beloved: Bela Lugosi in the first adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1931

The Crow 1994 which comes with a song from The Cure

Interview with the Vampire 1994

The Rocky Horror Picture Show 1975

Edward Scissor Hands 1990

The Addams family 1991 (if he's not like gomez then i don't want him)

The Craft 1996

That's all I have for now and if you made it this far thank you so much for reading and have a nice day <3

current goth song on repeat:

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wandasaura · 5 months

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— LITTLE DOVE DYNAMICS

summary — a few bullet points describing the relationship you have with your girlfriends

warnings — alludes to elements of ageplay, very brief mention of smut, literally only a sentence

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

ꕤ wanda is definitely the authoritarian within your dynamic. unlike natasha who will let you get away with whatever you want, within reason of course, wanda upholds the expectation that you should act as their good little dove and abide by the rules without her having to remind you.

ꕤ for the most part, you don’t need to be reminded about bedtime or using your inside voice, but on the days that you want to test her patience, she always starts out soft. it’s a gentle reminder at first, rough fingers beneath your chin, tilting your head back until you meet her eye, softly asking you to listen to mommy before she smiles goofily and kisses your waiting lips that have always formed a pout by this point. if she had to ask again, she wasn’t as nice, and for the post part, you never let her get to three. for the most part. there are some days you wake up just wanting to rile her up, get beneath her skin, and giggle with your daddy at her expense. when she got to three on those days, her eyes flashed red and whatever misbehavior you’d been taunting her with, became a second thought as you sniffled at her disappointed face.

ꕤ natasha always thought it was hilarious to see you fall so far so fast, and how you tearfully mumbled out apologies as your mommy rambled about actions and consequences. her amusement had gotten her in trouble with the scary witch more times than she’d like to admit, and while most of wanda’s wrath wasn’t shown to her the way it was to you in this headspace, there were a handful of times when she found herself right alongside you at the kitchen counter, writing lines until her hand felt raw and her eyes burned daggers into wanda’s head when she was sure you weren’t looking.

ꕤ that being said, natasha wasn’t all fun and games either. especially not when you found yourself beneath her in the bedroom, desperate for your release that she had spent hours building up and pulling away. wanda would laugh cynically at your side, squeezing your hand when you would inevitably reach out for her and pout. it was a healthy balance, but at the end of the day, you knew that both of them were a safe space to sink into

ꕤ when wanda’s having a hard day, they usually fall close to her birthday or the death anniversaries of her family members, she’s not herself in the slightest. you can always tell when her grief becomes allconsuming. she’ll pull away from you and natasha, find a reason to stay later at work or lock herself away in a spare bedroom claiming she’s doing mission reports and needs to focus, but you know that she’s crying as quietly as she can, struggling to find a reason to keep going when everything hurts so much. you’re her motivation at that point — when she feels like she just can’t go on in so much pain anymore. she loves you and natasha equally, but she doesn’t want to be the one to traumatize you. natasha’s lost handfuls of people, she understands the way wanda feels, but you’re their innocent little dove, and the thought of hurting you like that… she would never. so eventually she’ll come out to find you, and she’ll braid your hair, and cuddle you close, and forgive the fact that bedtime was an hour ago in favor of finding ice cream buried in the freezer and eating it while she watches your favorite show/movie. you make sure to love on her extra hard, and natasha doesn’t mind the favoritism as she watches you snuggle close to wanda and follow her around like a shadow, not wanting to leave her alone.

ꕤ when natashas having a bad day, usually triggered by a mission that reminded her of the conditions of the red room/her time under cover in ohio, she’s the opposite. she knows what she lives for, and she makes sure to express her gratitude for you and wanda in anyway she can. whether it’s spontaneous hugs and kisses throughout the days, cooking your favorite meal for dinner even if she hates the long and tedious process of making some of wanda’s favorite foods, or preparing a bubble bath for the three of you to sink into at the end of the day complete with candles and bubbles, she’s going the extra mile to make sure you feel loved. she’s painfully aware of how short and unpredictable life is, and she wants to make sure if anything happens to her, neither of you question for a second if you were loved.

ꕤ your favorite days though, are the days when you have them all to yourself. you’ll pile up on the couch and spend the entire day eating absolute junk, cuddling close to them and laughing about old memories and childhood stories, you bake sweet treats and just enjoy each others company. ans at the end of the night, you fall into bed between them with a smile on your face, knowing that just before you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, wanda’s gonna lean in close and kiss your forehead, and natasha’s going to squeeze your waist and whisper, “goodnight, little dove” in your ear

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #mommy wanda #daddy natasha #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #mommy!wanda maximoff x reader #daddy!natasha romanoff x reader #series: little dove

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cillianhead · 17 days

Text

Are You Afraid of The Dark? || Jonathan Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Crane lurks in the shadows. It's where he's learned to thrive. Though it wasn't his plan for you to see him in the darkness.

Warnings: SMUT, NONCON, Stalking / Obsessive behavior, Jonathan breaks into Y/N's place... (on multiple occasions), chloroforming kind of ??, pregnancy talk, unprotected sex, biting, blood, adult content!

hope you enjoy <3

18+ MINORS DNI

It wasn't the exact ideal scenario for him right now. Being tucked behind a curtain, with you staring directly at him... in the dark. Jonathan's hands were tucked behind his back as he held his breath, eyes wide, still in that tricky mind of his convinced you couldn't see him.

You couldn't. He blended in perfectly with the darkness, even with those blue eyes that could sometimes seem to glow in the dark. Your glow-in-the-dark stars, childish and cute, he thought, were the only source of dim lighting in the room. Your covers weren't doing much to cover you, kicked to the foot of the bed, nearly falling off the edge. Your ceiling fan twists in neverending cycles of hypnotic winds hitting you in the face as you squint your eyes a little more. Your heartbeat racing quicker at the thought of a stranger's figure. Your curtain wasn't floor length, only covering to his knees; it was a foolish and quick leap, the only place he could really hide. It was unusual for you to wake up at this hour, usually you slept soundly through the night.

He loved that about you. Jonathan observed your stillness as you slept, you were truly the most beautiful thing. And when you dreamed... oh how you dreamed... he thought... you smiled in your sleep, and sometimes you'd even cry or whine, it was heartbreaking, really.

But oh then you moaned too. The first time it happened he had to stop himself from lunging at you, pushing himself back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut as he heard you whimper in your sleep, even tossing and turning as you had wet dreams. He could make your dreams come true, he thought. He did get himself off to the sight of you, fist down his pants as he stroked his cock at a strange angle, he didn't care as he wet himself with his own jizz, underwear soaked through with it. He lived next door, he'd deal with it after.

The first time Jonathan ever broke into your apartment was simply by accident... you left your door unlocked, he was curious to see if you were that dumb to do so, especially in a building like this. And with people like him living next door. You were asleep and so he lingered through your apartment, scoffing at your unlocked door, as... one would... and well... examined every knick-knack and even went through your family photo album, chuckling at the sorts. He really got to know you in the time that you were asleep. Jonathan slept erratically, barely ever at all, he only slept when he remembered to. Sometimes he got lost in the madness, in the hallucinations, the high... from the lack of sleep. He was deprived, snarling, and hungry for sleep constantly. Jonathan pushed himself to the brink of insanity and death, seeing how far he could go without a single rest. He once went an entire week and a half. But the day you moved in next door, he knew he'd find his long-needed rest in you. Once he had you, he could sleep.

But now at 3:30 in the morning, the witching hour, you thought with a shiver. Goosebumps and strikes of terror twitched you to be wide awake. Surely it was just the shadows playing tricks on you, right? The blank wall beside your window didn't usually have a smirk plastered on it and a pair of blue eyes, right? Why were the walls watching you then? What was that feeling on your skin? Hungry eyes stalk your every movement, his gaze was as precise as a feline hunting in the dark.

You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move, frozen in fear you stared and stared and stared until your eyes dried up. And Jonathan just stood there, both frightened for his own sake and aroused by your fearful look. He could see well in the dark. Jonathan saw every inch of you, in your little nightgown. And your petrified look.

You convinced yourself it was just the night. You were just a little paranoid. So as you lean back on your elbows, to tuck yourself back in, you notice the shine on a pair of black shoes peeking out into the moonlight. You frowned, shoes looking a little too large to be yours... you slip out of bed only to hear the floor creak and the shoes move. Stepping towards you.

"Now, sweetheart... let me explain myself," The voice said with a grin, his hands raised up in the air as if you had a gun.

You looked at him with pure horror. Stuck on the ground like glue, a helpless little girl at the mercy of a creeping neighbor. Nausea, flashing lights of panic, trying hard not to vomit, you look at him with your lips parted and your lungs deflated. You couldn't speak. Jonathan just laughed.

"Are you alright, dear?" He smirked, still shed in darkness, you couldn't quite make him out. Then he stepped into the light, eyes locked on you, at a killer speed. Two things came to mind as you finally blinked, relief and fear. Two very different things.

It's just your neighbor, you know him...

He's a doctor... he's a....

He's....

You can't even remember his name.

How could you forget the name of a man who looked like that?

............YOU DO NOT KNOW HIM.

You do not know him.

You clutch at your stomach, leaning back on the bed because your knees are about to give out. "Please don't hurt me..." That was the only thing you could think of. What else were you supposed to say?

"Don't give me a reason to," Jonathan quipped as he took a step closer you whimpered and moved further back like some sort of cruel game of chess. "Y/N, don't you dare run from me!"

You froze on your feet, heart thumping the inside of your skull as he raised his voice and used your name. Cowering at the sight of his pale blue eyes, those hypnotic baby blues locked on you like a loaded shotgun aimed right at your pretty mouth. You just collapsed back on the bed, like some sort of ragdoll as you sat and began to weep in fear. Jonathan rushed over to you, cupping your face in his heavy palm. Thumb and forefinger grip underneath your cheekbones. The other hand grabbed at your tits, hands kneading at the feeling finally at last.

"Fu-uuck," He croaked out, voice throaty and rough. "Promise I'm not here to hurt you, princess, I was only here to catch a peep at you sleeping but it seems I've woken you up."

"H-Have you been in here before?" You asked with a tremble in your mouth, tears still weltering in your eyes.

He just chuckled, licking his lips. "I take it that means you haven't found the note I left you the other night..." Jonathan shook his head, pulling his hand away from his face to scratch at his stubbly chin. He hadn't shaved in days, was too obsessed with you, too busy writing about you, watching you, thinking about you to really care for himself. Of course, he had showered but he had run out of fresh razor blades, and oh, how he couldn't be bothered to go to the dull supermarket.

You shuddered.

"No, I haven't..." You said, voice barely above a whisper.

"What a pity..." He pursed his lips momentarily before putting his gaze back on you and your boobs spilling out of your nightgown. "My name's Jonathan, I should've introduced myself sooner." His formality was all just a mask, he didn't care what you had to say for yourself. You just shook your head and tried to pull away as he groped you over your dress, moving to crawl away but he grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you back over to him instead. Now you were bent over the bed with your ass sticking out, like some sort of perfect peach. Jonathan grabbed you by your hair, tugging on it as he pressed his hips into yours, letting you feel his cock through his sweatpants. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel good, slotted perfectly between the curve of your ass cheeks, even nudging at your bare pussy.

"St-Stop..." You clawed at the sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him but he only pulled harder on your hair, you let out a loud cry and bowed your head in shame. "Please!"

"Stop your crying or you'll make me cum," Jonathan hissed and slapped your bare ass. "You're such a slut, don't act like you don't want this, sleeping with no panties on... you're a fucking brazen whore if I've ever seen one..."

You managed to get your leg loose enough to kick him in the shins, hard enough to send him keeling over, pawing at his new-found bruise on his calf. You bolted to your bedroom door, scrambling to open the door. The door swung open but as you took that leap of faith... that one last chance to freedom... you had a damp cloth on your face and suddenly you were feeling a little woozy.

"It's okay, shhhh... shhh..." Jonathan's arms are wrapped tightly around your waist as you go limp below the shoulders, still conscious as he drags you over to your bed. "Just a mild muscle-relaxer... you'll be back to full mobility within the hour..."

"Yoouu.... ffrrmmmmnngnghhh...." Oh god, you couldn't speak. Your words were slurred and your vision was blurred, too numb to care as he dragged you to your bed and manhandled you into place. You were now a malleable doll to him, your arms heavy and legs limp. "St-Stop..." You gurgled as he shimmied out of his pants and had your legs thrown over his shoulders.

"Hush now," He hissed, fucking his fist as he stood between your shaky thighs. "Let me promise you this darling, you're gonna be addicted to my cock..." Jonathan's voice was a breathy grunt as he smeared the tip of his red tip along your sticky folds. He let out little gasps, hips jolting at the feeling of your pussy. It was so much better than his daydreams. "Fuck..." Jonathan whined again, voice breaking in pitch. Your thighs squeezed around him subconsciously as if he had let out a desperate cry and your body was responding to it. He was addicted to you already.

But you were horrified. The fat head of his cock slowly stretches you open and he leaves it there, looking down at where his body meets yours with labored breathing. "J-Jonn...." You cry, your arms twitched but just barely. He pulled the tip out to look down at your weeping cunt, juices rushing down onto the bedsheets.

"You're so wet, just how I thought you'd be," Jonathan said, a depraved look in his sparkling eyes and a satisfied grin plastered across his face. He was sleep-deprived and now, he was finally getting what he wanted. You. He knew once he gave you a proper fuck you'd know he was the man for you. He'd mold you perfectly around him, truly make you his, so that no other man could do it for you. You were his. "Beg." He snickered, knowing you couldn't.

You could barely roll your own eyes let alone control your own voice. You let out murmurs of pathetic attempts at words. "No.... yostopfssfkhhhh...."

"Talkin' nonsense and I haven't even fucked you yet..." Jonathan chuckled before lining his hips back up with yours and finally impaling you then and there, sliding in with little resistance but not without a mewl from you. You were seeing stars as you retracted in on yourself, trying so hard to move, wishing you weren't so embarrassingly wet. "There we go..." Tears slipped down your cheeks and you saw that sadistic smile of his grow and his pupils expanded like he was high off of ecstasy.

That sick bastard. Jonathan blinked, rutting his hips into yours as he pressed himself as deep as he could go and kept himself there. He pressed right against your cervix as you felt your pinky finger move independently but the rest of your shaking body remains paralyzed. Jonathan felt like he could cum just by being inside you. Your walls squeezing him with utmost desire.

“Pl-Please…” You cried, your own body betraying you as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming. You had never been fucked like this before. It was primal and desperate the way he pistoned his hips in and out, Jonathan’s jaw agape as he let out satisfied grunts. “Stop…” You wheeze, your voice coming out as a mere breath. He wouldn’t stop even if he could hear you.

Jonathan looked down at you, fresh beads of sweat dribbling down his forehead as his hands moved down to paw at your boobs. "Imagine how big your tits will be when you're pregnant with my child, hm?" Jonathan snarled, lost in the feeling of you. "Imagine how fucking swollen and sore they'll be... you'll need my mouth for relief..." At that, he bent down, curling his lips around the erect bud and sucking as if something would come out. He could already imagine how sweet your milk would taste and he moaned at the thought.

You cried and squirmed, the best you could at least but Jonathan was displeased with your unhappy reaction. Your muscles twitched as the drugs slowly yet surely wore off but you still weren't back to your full strength, you could barely lift an arm up. Your toes curled as he rocked into you and unwillingly you felt yourself come undone around him.

"F-Fuck..." You squeaked, spasming slightly as you drenched his cock in your arousal.

Jonathan's pupils expanded as he looked up at you, still suckling on your nipple as he fucked you. He popped off it momentarily to speak, a string of spit sitting on his pretty bottom lip as it curled into a sickening smirk. "Keep squeezing me like that darling..." He cooed, hips jerking as you clamped around him like a vice. "I-I needed this.... fuck... needed this so much, baby..." His voice was sweet and innocent as if he wasn't forcing himself on you. "I love you... I'm so in love with you... You're all mine..." Jonathan's eyes trailed down your figure, tits bouncing with each eager thrust and your fingers squeezing at the sheets. And then his eyes landed on the way you took him, so perfectly, cock sliding in and out of you. Fuck, it felt so good.

His hands found your hips and in a menacing fashion, used them as leverage to fuck you harder into oblivion. He fucked you like you were just a mere ragdoll with the wettest pussy he'd ever felt. Every grunt of his, every groan, sent jolts down to your core, and you throbbed with pure need. Even if you hated what was happening to you right now.

"I... I... oh... oh my god..." Jonathan never knew a cunt could feel this good. So tight. So warm. So.... wet. For the first time in his life, his mind went blank and he decided in that moment that this was what heaven felt like. You were his heaven... his long-needed bliss. Jonathan's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt his cock twitch and spurt out ropes of cum, fucking it into you as deep as he could. To stop himself from letting out a shout, he grabbed your wrist and bit down, sinking his jaw into the flesh until the metallic taste of your blood filled his mouth. Teeth and tongue stained crimson and you wailed at the feeling, not sure what was worse; the feeling of his teeth or the feeling of his tongue lapping it up eagerly. His moans were muffled into your wrist, canines buried deep in your skin.

And eventually, in a blur of motions, he collapsed on top of you, wrist free from his mouth and his body weight resting completely on you. He was on cloud nine. "Thank you..." He whispered, exasperated. He licked his lips, reveling in the way your blood tasted. So sweet. "Thank you, Y/N..." Jonathan nudged his nose against your cheek, like a cat seeking attention. "You're my favorite girl."

You still couldn't speak. You lay motionless underneath him, blankly staring up at the ceiling and silent salty tears escaping from your lifeless eyes.

You always hated the dark. Maybe it was time to buy a night-light

I have an irrational fear of the dark but all I'm saying is... I won't be complaining if I find Jonathan Crane hiding in my bedroom <3

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane fanfic

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

ooh could i request one where the reader drinks something which unknowingly causes her to de-age into a toddler. of course, everyone is taken aback by this and it startles toddler!reader, causing her to cry.

the IC all dote on the reader, trying to make them happy or go to sleep etc. and toddler!reader is equally clingy, loving the attention but scared by the situation. however, she is especially clingy to her mate (any of the batboys) who feels smug about this (or, in the alternative, she is especially clingy to everyone but her mate aw).

no smut please, only fluff (platonic when the reader is a toddler!) and maybe a sprinkle of angst :) ty <3

De-aging potion.

Inner circle x f!Reader (Mate; Azriel)

Warnings; swearing.

Masterlist.

I don’t really know why but I believe Azriel is the best choice as a mate in this. He is so quiet and dark, it definitely serves the purpose of the story. This was hard to write, I hope it's good!

Reader at first doesn't recognize them but I use their names because I don't want to make it confusing.

“Don’t touch this, girl” Amren snapped as you traced your fingertips over a jar.

“Sorry” you mumbled sheepishly.

You, Amren and Cassian were searching for a special herb that would help Feyre with pregnancy pains as the baby’s wings grew.

You were currently in a small cottage right outside of Velaris. The witch who agreed to help glanced at you and offered you a mischievous smile.

“Such a curious girl” she smirked.

You didn’t reply, her whole attitude made you feel uneasy, and you suddenly regretted not taking your mate Azriel with you.

“This one.” The witch said and gave Amren a jar. “Are you sure it will help?” the ancient one asked.

“Are you questioning my abilities dear?”

Cassian glanced at you worriedly, you both knew that the two creatures would turn this meeting into a battlefield if you didn’t step in now.

“I think we’re done here.” You cleared your throat. The tension made your mouth dry, and you winced as you swallowed.

“Here take this.” The witch smiled. She noticed your reluctance and sighed “It’s just water”.

You took the cup from her and gulped down the water before sending her a thankful look and following the others.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” Cassian shuddered and opened his arms to pick both you and Amren up and fly away.

A wicked laugh rang, and the cottage turned into mist.

“What the fuck?” Cassian exclaimed.

“I-I don’t feel good” you stuttered and stumbled backwards.

“Y/n!” Amren gasped and moved closer.

You felt like your intestines were rearranging themselves and suddenly a bright light emerged from your skin. You landed on your butt and gaped at them.

“Mother’s tits!” Cassian exclaimed while Amren paled.

You flinched at the scream and burst into tears.

“Shut up idiot you’re scaring her! We must take her back to Velaris. Now!” Amren hissed. “Come here sweet girl, we will take you home” she said softly and opened her arms.

You sniffled and pushed yourself up, stumbling into her and wrapping your arms around her neck.

Cassian picked both of you up with a frown and shoot up making you yelp and giggle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“We have a problem!” Cassian shouted as you landed on a balcony. Your eyes watered and Amren slapped the back of his head.

You walked into a big dining room where several people were sitting. Everyone’s eyes fell on you and confusion filled their features. Only a male narrowed his eyes and then paled.

“Who’s that sweet girl?” Feyre cooed. “Uhm.. yeah that’s the problem” Cassian scratched the back of his head.

“It’s y/n” Amren rolled her eyes.

Everyone gasped and stared at you with wide eyes making you gasp too and start crying. “Not again” Amren groaned.

“Az” you cried out not sure what that meant but your mind seemed to work on its own accord.

The male who had narrowed his eyes got up and approached you with a worried expression. You peeked from Amren’s neck and stretched your arms to him.

“I’ve got you angel” he said softly and engulfed you in his arms. His shadows shot up and started rubbing your back soothingly. You hummed and hid your face in his neck.

“What happened?” Rhysand asked.

“The witch offered her some water and then this happened.” Amren explained.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Azriel growled “I would make her reverse it!” “Why didn’t we think about that?” Cassian said sarcastically “Oh I know, because she fucking disappeared?”

“Don’t speak like that in front of a child” Feyre gasped.

“She’s not a child!” Cassian exclaimed.

“Please stop” you whispered and Azriel tensed.

“It’s okay angel” he murmured and kissed your head.

You couldn’t understand what was happening to you, it felt like you were trapped inside your mind, seeing everything that was happening but unable to react. You wanted to scream “I’m here!” but your body and brain worked on their own, leaving you helpless.

“I will ask the priestesses to search every book. Maybe we can find a way to reverse it.” Rhysand spoke and got up. The noise making you peek at him. He noticed your curious eyes and grinned. “Hi sweetie” he cooed, and you giggled stretching your arms at him. Azriel growled but let you cling to Rhys not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

Rhysand bounced you on his hip making you giggle. “I’m practicing for our baby” he told Feyre and she smiled.

“Let’s go to the library” he said and started walking away. You noticed a few shadows trailing after you and you made grabby hands at them.

The action made Azriel smile and puff his chest making everyone groan and roll their eyes. When you lost them from your sight you glanced at Rhys and your bottom lip trembled.

“What is it sweetie?” he asked.

“Az” you mumbled, and a few tears escaped. The shadows darted away.

“You want Az?”

You nodded and in a blink Azriel appeared at the end of the hall, marching towards you.

“Come here babygirl” he cooed and grabbed you.

You returned in the dining room.

“What are we going to do about this?” Nesta sighed.

“I guess we keep her happy and safe until we find a solution.” Azriel said and took a seat placing you on his lap. “Honey… even though I love that you are clinging to me, it’s kinda weird to have you on my lap.” He cringed and gave you to Nesta.

Cassian turned to him in confusion “Why?”

Azriel rolled his eyes “She is my mate, sitting on my thighs feels wrong now.”

“Oh yeah” The warlord nodded.

“You’re so cute” Nesta cooed and grabbed your hands making you clap and giggle.

“What do toddlers eat?” Feyre asked.

“I have no idea” Nesta shrugged.

“Probably soft food” Elain joined the conversation and smiled sweetly when you looked at her. “I’ll make her something.” She got up and left.

You squirmed in Nesta’s hold and she frowned “I think she is getting bored guys.”

Cassian’s eyes filled with amusement “I think Uncle Cass has the solution” he boomed.

“You’re not her uncle” Azriel groaned.

Cassian shushed him and picked you up.

“Hey sweet girl wanna fly?” he asked you and you nodded eagerly.

The gentle giant raised you above his head in a lying position and ran around the table, throwing you up and catching you again every now and then. You kept laughing and screaming and kicking your feet.

“Food’s ready!” Elain chirped and entered the room with a plate filled with vegetables and small pieces of chicken.

She took a seat and Cassian placed you on her lap with a kiss on your head.

“Open your mouth sweetheart” she cooed and brought the fork on your lips. You shook your head and hid your face on her shoulder.

“What if I tell you a story while you eat?” she offered making you peek at her. “You like the idea?”. You nodded and she smiled.

“Okay there once was a girl named y/n….”

Everyone gaped at her as you started eating.

“I think we found something” Rhys entered the room with a book in hand.

You couldn’t hear what they said, your body was completely mesmerized by Elain and her story.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“What did you find” Azriel asked.

“She probably gave her this potion, I can’t find anything else that would cause this to happen except some spells” Rhys replied.

“No it wasn’t a spell” Amren spoke.

The shadowsinger looked at her helplessly “are you sure?”

“Yes boy I know how spells work.” She snorted.

“If it's indeed this potion, then it will pass tomorrow morning. She'll most likely wake up as her grown self.” Rhys explained and Azriel sighed in relief.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Azzie” you screeched, interrupting their conversation and making him smile.

“Yes angel?” “Love you” you gave him a toothy grin and he blushed.

“Aww look at him getting all shy because of a baby” Cassian cooed, and one shadow smacked his head “Ouch”.

“Okay time to sleep little one” Rhysand said and Azriel picked you up.

“No” you shouted.

“You have to sleep sweetie and tomorrow you will be a big girl” Your mate said excitedly.

“No!” you cried out and started squirming in his arms. “Y/n!” he yelled, and you gaped at him. “I said its time to sleep.”

Your eyes watered and his face softened.

“Come on angel” he pleaded.

“Nesta” you cried out and pushed him away trying to get to her.

“I’m here sweetheart” she replied and took you from him.

Azriel frowned and stared at you. “Mean” you told Nesta and pointed at him. “I know” she nodded “Let’s go cuddle”.

You waved goodbye to everyone and Nesta carried you in her room.

She lied next to you, and you rested your head on her chest, her heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

At some point during the night, you saw the witch staring at you in your dream.

“That’s what curious girls get. Next time think before you touch my jars.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You woke up with a groan, feeling like your head was going to explode.

“Good morning” Nesta chuckled, and you gasped.

“I’m in your bed” you said and glanced around.

“Yup” she smiled.

“Please tell me that everything was a dream” you whined.

“Nope”

“Cauldron” you breathed.

The door opened and everyone walked inside.

“She’s back” Cassian shouted, and everyone laughed.

You slowly got up and walked to your mate, hugging him and pressing your cheek on his chest.

“I thought I was mean” he teased you and you hummed.

“You’ll never stop teasing me huh?”

“Nope” everyone exclaimed simultaneously making you groan.

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