#I think I'm gonna work on cassian week and see if it helps

[velariscalling]

Morally Grey - An Azriel Imagine

Characters: Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Cassian drags the IC to his new obsession: open mic night at Rita's, and much to his delight, Azriel has been paired up to sing with the Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive language.

A/N: My first ever imagine is HERE!! Honestly I've been so nervous to put this out as it's all very new to me, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! I'm really looking forward to see how my writing develops as I post more, but for now, I hope you enjoy my first post! It's just a load of silly fun tbh. And finally, thank you so much to @sarawritestories for helping me out with the ending, you're the best! <3

Soundtrack: 'Morally Grey' by April Jai feat. Nation Haven

Disclaimer: GIF isn't mine - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Rita’s was bustling.

As it always was on a Friday night, really. They probably should have known better than to come on a weekend, but the welcoming vibrancy of the bar was a welcome reprieve from a long week’s work. Y/N took a deep breath as the music hit her, exhaling as she let any remaining stress seep from her body and into the night.

Before she could think too much about the busy days she’s had as of recently, a hand grabbed each of hers - one perfectly manicured, one covered in swirls of black ink - and pulled her in the direction of the bar. Mor flagged down a barman who recognised them immediately - it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the Night Court’s Inner Circle to make an appearance here.

After a moment, she handed her a shot glass filled with bright green liquid. “Bottoms up, you’re gonna need it tonight,” she grinned, already having necked her own. Feyre giggled as Y/N raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde, throwing back her shot anyway and wincing at the tangy liquid.

“And why is that, exactly?” Y/N cocked her head at her friend, who’s brown eyes danced with excitement.

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes playfully, already flagging down the barman for yet another shot, just for herself this time. “You really think Cassian’s going to let us miss out on tonight? He’s been preparing his song with Rhys for days.”

It’s true - Cassian’s favourite night of the week was their newest tradition, open mic night at Rita’s. Four songs, four duos, randomly selected. Or so he says, anyway. He probably matched himself with Rhysand so he could convince him to sing Mysterious Girl together.

Feyre gripped Y/N’s hand from her other side, clearly trying her hardest to hold back a squeal of excitement. “How are you feeling?” She knew that there was more to that question than meets the eye. It wasn’t a secret that Cassian’s little game had paired her up with Azriel, much to his delight.

She put on her mask of indifference that she had mastered over the months of knowing the shadowsinger, refusing to give any details away of her incessant feelings for him that prodded at her constantly. “I am feeling absolutely fine, High Lady,” she smiled, eyes shining, but a scoff from her left interrupted her.

“Please,” Mor drawled, looking at her with a face that said, don’t even try. “You literally can’t fool anyone, especially not us, so drop the act.”

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t mastered her mask as well as she had initially thought, her twin’s nod of agreement cementing that conclusion. “Okay fine, but what do I have to be nervous about? You are all the ones who should be nervous when we out-sing you.” She smirked at them, but they shared a knowing look.

“There it is, changing the subject,” Feyre chuckled, nursing her drink in her hand. Y/N scowled at her, but she could never actually be mad at her. Frankly, she was more irritated by the fact that she knew her so well. “What? Y/N, this is what happens every time we bring him up.”

She opened her mouth to argue, when an arm was slung over her shoulder, and Feyre’s. “Ladies,” Rhysand’s melodic voice sounded over the music as he appeared between the sisters. He nodded at Mor with a grin, who was already on her… third, or fourth shot? Who knows. “Cass will have a temper tantrum if I don’t drag you all over to the stage right now.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with a laugh and allowed her mate to spin her into his arms, and they both made their way over to the Inner Circle’s area of the bar. Y/N’s heart warmed at the sight of them, knowing that her twin, her double in every way, had found her happiness. Mor looped her arm through hers as they walked behind them, her eyes following Y/N’s gaze. “You’ll have that soon, you know.”

Y/N looked over at her. She was so breathtaking, her brown eyes contrasting her golden hair, and her signature red dress hugging her flawless body in all the right places. Any male or female in this room would be lucky to get her, and yet, she didn’t care. Next to her, though, Y/N felt like nothing. As if Mor could sense her thoughts, she squeezed her arm affectionately. “Come on. Tonight’s the night you’re going to show that other side of you- oh don’t give me that look, I know it’s there.”

Y/N huffed, a lighthearted sound, and shook her head softly. “I wish I had your confidence,” She murmured, a dry joke.

“Babe, you’re sexy. When are you going to realise that?” The sheer certainty in Mor’s voice had Y/N raising her eyebrows at her friend, who simply nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “Channel it tonight. I’ll be watching.” She winked, and released her arm as they arrived at their own table right in front of the stage.

Rhys and Feyre had already taken their seats at the centre, High Lord and Lady looking elegant as ever. Cassian sat to Rhys’s right, his excitement akin to a golden retriever, as Amren, who was sat next to him, clearly tried her hardest not to throttle him. Next to Feyre sat Azriel, his looming shadows making the already dark bar appear pitch black in his presence. There were two empty chairs to his left, and finally Nesta sat at the end of the table, clearly trying to make the most of as much peace and quiet as she could get before the night’s shenanigans unfolded. Mor was quick to take the seat next to her, leaving Y/N between her and Azriel. He gave her a short smile as she sat down, ever the emotionless. “Are you ready?”

The low, icy voice of the shadowsinger never failed to take her by surprise. If the living embodiment of darkness could talk, it would sound like him. She looked at him, his hazel eyes glowing even in the darkness, and replied, “Are you?”

Before Azriel could respond, a flute of sparkly champagne slid from Y/N’s left into view. She turned to see Nesta, wordlessly handing her the drink, with grey-blue eyes that told her that she, too, thought she needed an extra little liquid confidence tonight. She noticed Mor biting her lip so hard she looked as though she may explode, and she rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she turned back to Azriel. To her surprise, it appeared as though a similar grin was tugging on those lips as well.

He merely raised his glass to hers, eyes shining with a grin that he wouldn’t let fully show on his face. She picked up her own glass and clinked it against his, matching his honey gold gaze.

Let the night begin.

It’s safe to say that the performances of the night were… well, entertaining. Cassian was a little too excited dragging Rhys up to perform their number first, giving major boyband energy up on that stage. Feyre was in fits of laughter, but Nesta looked like she wanted to claw her eyes out… but perhaps secretly enjoyed it behind that mask of disgust. Y/N’s two sisters were up next with a rendition of Love Story in which Nesta was surprisingly involved, followed by Amren and Mor’s take on Lady Marmalade, which was frankly the worst thing anyone had ever heard. If the monster lurking beneath Amren’s skin was anything like her singing voice, then Mother help us all.

It wasn’t long before her friends were cheering and whooping as Y/N stood from her seat - the final song. “Get him girl,” Mor whispered as she passed her, Azriel on her heels. She felt the shadows licking at her ankles as she ascended the steps to the stage, gripping the microphone that had been handed to her on the way.

As Azriel situated himself to her left, she stole a quick glance at him. He was looking at the floor, uncharacteristically tense under the gazes of all their friends. It was no secret that Azriel had the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard, a gift from the Cauldron itself, but it occurred to her now that maybe no one else had heard it before. Aside from her, at the couple of short practices they  had done. Even then, she didn’t think he was giving his all.

Y/N faced the front and prepared for the music to play - she was more of a seasoned performer than Azriel. She had played her fair share of gigs around Velaris, a good handful of which on this very stage. If she was showing some confidence, she hoped that it would spark some inside of him. She steeled herself, breathing in deeply as she raised the microphone to her lips, and the music began.

“He’s got gold eyes, crooked smile, knows that he drives me wild,”

She felt the heat of the spotlight on her as she let her voice ring through the bar. It was soft, to begin with, giving the song room to breathe, to build. She looked over at the man she was sharing the stage with, noticing tension already lost from his shoulders at the sound of her voice. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, and she knew then that he’d realised how she’d changed the lyrics to fit him, those perfect golden eyes.

“Can’t help myself, no I’m not in denial,”

The smile she sent his way was telling, it spoke a hundred words. But it wasn’t just her grin that conveyed the message she sent: you’re okay, you’re with me, move with me. There was something between them, an invisible thread connecting the two of them, body and soul and mind. Certain thoughts, certain feelings - she could feel his, and he could feel hers. A bond like this had meaning, they both knew this, but neither of them were bold enough to explore it, acknowledge it. Across that bond, she beckoned him: Azriel, you’re with me, and I’m with you… play with me.

“I know he’s no good for me,”

There was a flicker of something in the shadowsinger’s eyes, as if his mind had decided to pull him down an alternative route to the one he was prepared to go down, the one where he’d back out and run. A shadow of a smirk lingered on his lips, as his own shadows danced around him excitedly, egging him on. The weaving tendrils were clearly more than satisfied with the idea that flashed through their master’s mind, whatever images Y/N’s words had conjured up. Azriel, play with me.

“But when he gets down on his knees,”

The spark in his eyes only seemed to brighten as he brought the lyrics to life, sinking slowly down onto his knees before her. The shit-eating smirk he wore on his face in response to her evident surprise could have sent her to her own knees as she beheld him, kneeling, for her. Mother spare her. A quick glance to her right at the others confirmed that they had all had the same reaction she had, and she feared that the bar staff may have to assist in picking their jaws up from the floor. Azriel’s face was challenging, knowing, yet almost the picture of innocence as she felt his response in her mind: You told me to play with you. She sent one word back at him: Bastard.

If he was going to play dirty, so was she.

“He’s so eager to please, knows the right frequencies,”

He reached a hand out as if to touch her - where, she wasn’t sure - but she grabbed it before he could make any contact. Scars felt rough against her soft skin as she walked slowly, teasingly around him and she sang the chorus, her heeled boots tugging her posture upright so her body curved in all the right places. She caught Feyre’s eye as she circled Azriel, still knelt on the floor and looking as though he was more than content to stay there forever. Y/N’s sister looked like her eyes were about to bulge out of her head, her smile growing so big that Y/N thought it would be too big for her face. Next to her, Rhysand simply winked, an encouraging smirk boosting her confidence.

“They say he’s morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite colour,”

As she made her way back to the front of Azriel’s view, still gripping his hand as he held it upright for her to use, she slowly lowered herself down to a squat in front of him as she sang the line. From this angle, she was now much closer to his face than before, and she noticed the subtle sheen of lust glazing over his eyes. It almost made her lose balance - almost. She brought his hand gently to her lips, placing a chaste kiss onto his marred knuckles, and he took in a sharp breath. Most people flinch when they see his hands, or grimace, or turn away. Not Y/N. No, she thinks Azriel’s scars are part of his story. The backstory to a warrior, a survivor. Scars are not the memory of what happened, but a testament to who you have become.

“Morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite…”

She rose to her feet, prepared to give Azriel some space to begin his verse, remembering the nerves that clung to him barely a minute ago. As she began to turn, taking the first step away from him, something cold slithered around her ankle, and one around her waist. The shadows pulled her straight back to where she was as the music lowered, and held her in place, as if they knew that hearing his voice would send her to the floor. And Mother above, they knew her well.

“What can I say? No I don’t pray, but for your body, I’ll worship,”

She could have sworn her knees buckled, but she couldn’t tell from the shadows holding her still. Azriel’s voice was like silk, so soft and pure, yet it lit her insides on fire in a way that she’d never felt, burning her up like a beautiful, dying star. If his voice was to be the thing to send her to her death, then so be it. She would die very, very happy. He reached out once again, and this time she did not stop him as he ran his hand up her thigh all the way to her waist from his position on the floor. Even kneeling, his Illyrian frame was intimidatingly large, her body standing not too much taller than his. His eyes watched his hand intently as it traced the curve of her side, as if they didn’t have an audience, one that was most definitely gaping at Azriel’s sudden brazenness.

“Girl don’t be afraid, my love’s a grenade, just be a good girl, you can take it,”

Like an angel rising from the ashes of war, Azriel stood slowly, wings flaring as he rose to his full height. His gaze was already intense when she was the one looking down at him, but now that he was the one towering over her, the darkness in his eyes shot electricity straight through her body and into her core, her head reeling with thoughts so sinful that nothing could save her. His hand on her waist squeezed on the words good girl, and she was forced to bite her lip hard to stop herself from reacting in a way that would later be incredibly embarrassing. His eyes tracked the movement, lingering on her bottom lip as she released it from her teeth with a pop.

“Call me insane but for you, I was made, I’d burn the world down if it’d make you feel safe,”

The fire in Azriel’s eyes blazed as he took one step toward her, and another, and another, closer and closer. The upper hand that Y/N had held up until now had slipped, yielding step after step backward, her control completely faltering. She had always known that doing this with Azriel would likely create some… tension between the two of them, and he must have known, but Cauldron, this was unlike anything she had ever expected. Azriel was so close that she felt his body heat, felt her face warming, likely for everyone to see under the harsh glare of the spotlights.

“It’s you that I crave, and nothing compares to your taste,”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like Azriel meant every single word he was singing. No, he didn’t write the lyrics himself of course, but the way his eyes burned with such feeling, and… what looked to be desperation, told her there was much more to this than meets the eye. And Gods… the way his voice cracked ever so slightly with a primal need as those final words left his mouth had her praying to whatever higher powers she could to forgive her for the damning shivers he was sending straight to the very heart of that taste he craved so badly.

As the chorus rolled around once more, their voices finally blended as one, and nothing had ever sounded so right. Azriel’s shadows danced freely around the two of them, creating a tornado of darkness, of intimacy, where they were right in the eye of the storm. The song continued, and the pull between the two of them was magnetic, almost hypnotic as they completely forgot about the audience they had; their family who were most definitely gaping like fish out of water. Y/N could feel Azriel’s warm breath on her face as he sang, his angelic voice whispering less-than-angelic promises that only she could hear in the way it trembled.

Y/N honestly didn’t think that Azriel could get any closer - what she failed to consider was that the shadowsinger was in so deep that he wasn’t planning on stopping until there was absolutely no space left between them. As the song once again softened, Azriel took his chance and leaned impossibly closer, abandoning his vocals in favour of a different use of that mouth. Y/N inhaled sharply as Azriel’s lips brushed against hers, gently, experimentally. Some instinctive part of her that knew this was right pushed her forward to press her lips a little harsher against his, earning a shiver from the shadowsinger. She heard a soft rustle coming from behind him as his wings twitched from the anticipation.

As he pulled away, Azriel heard a shaky exhale escape her lips, caused only by the feeling of him, the heat of two bodies pressed close together, the rush of meeting the lips of the person who, deep down, you know is made for you. Your partner. Your mate. That shiver he elicited from Y/N was the final straw - the last thing he needed to cement his plans for the night. His face still inches from hers, he whispered with a voice so low he wasn’t sure it had even come from him, “You’re mine tonight.”

One moment, the IC were watching dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of them, some wondering if they really should be averting their eyes (apart from Cassian, who sat with a shit-eating grin on his face). The next moment, the stage was empty, a whisper of shadows the only thing left standing in their wake. Azriel had disappeared in a flash, winnowed to who knows where, taking Y/N with him.

“Goddamn, Az,” Rhys chuckled into his drink after a beat of shocked silence. “Nicely done.”

“No! But they didn’t even finish their song!” Cassian pouted, gesturing wildly at the empty stage as the music still played from the speakers.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s their priority right now, Cass,” Mor giggled, practically vibrating from excitement and pride, exploding with glee at what had taken place since her little pep talk earlier.

Rhys set his glass down on the table in favour of throwing an arm over the top of Feyre’s chair. “It’s about time those two did something about the obvious, right?”

As Feyre’s eyes sparkled with delight for her twin, she giggled at his words, overjoyed at the knowledge that Y/N may at last feel the happiness of having a mate. A partner for all eternity.  “Yeah… finally.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hello. I was wondering. If u could write something where reader is mayed to the bat boys. She has a sickness that her father died from and she has and hasn't told her mates nor her younger siblings. They find out and are frantic. You can add flashbacks of how her father was loving, single dad, and his final moments with her. ( I was hoping it could be a small series). U can add whatever u think looks cute. Thank you!

Why Don't We Celebrate? (part 1)

Summary: New revelations leave Y/n shook.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I'm gonna make this hurt 😌

(also, make sure to check out @readychilledwine's losing forever as it is based on the same request!)

Anyways, enjoy bbs!❣️

•○🌑○•

Y/n almost nearly flew with her nonexistent wings as she walked up to the door of the town house. She and her new lover were supposed to go to a new restaurant that he had found, and she had told him she would meet him at the town house.

It hadn't been all that long since she saw him. Maybe a day or two.

They had only met barely over six months ago, while she was walking around Velaris picking up groceries.

The two of them were taking it slow. They had only slept together once, and that was the last time she saw him. It also didn't help that they'd met just before Rhysand became high lord, and then Cassian had mostly become busy with helping his brother handle the court.

Y/n didnt mind. In fact, she was proud of him for it. But she couldn't say she wasn't jealous or possessive of him sometimes. After all, she should be allowed to spend time with her love.

But the fact that she loved how important Cassian was also did not mean she liked Rhys much. She almost hated him, and would have given him an earful long ago if he hadn't meant so much to her lover. She always pushed it down, trying not to let her anger at not being able to have her lover all to herself cloud her judgement and kill Rhysand the first chance she got.

Y/n knocked on the front door of the town house, smiling at the thought of meeting her lover.

The door opened after a moment, and Azriel, Cassian's other friend, smiled at Y/n from the doorway. "Hey. It's been so long since I last saw you. How have you been?"

Y/n smiled at Azriel, trying not to let the impatience show. "I'm good Azriel. Uh, how are you?"

Azriel gave her a knowing smirk. "I'm good I'm good. Are you here to see Cassian? I think he's a little busy."

Disappointment crashed through Y/n, and she deflated. Now that she thought about it, she should have confirmed with Cassian. After all, they had made the plan to go out a week ago. He might've forgotten or something important might have come up.

Y/n shook her head, smiling at Az. "It's nothing much. We had plans to meet and go out, but I guess not. Just let him know I was here and tell him to come home as soon as he can."

Az looked dumbfounded. "I think Rhys can get someone else to do the work, I- I will talk to Rhys-"

Any other time, Y/n would have gladly taken up that offer, but right now she was pissed at Rhys and wanted to make him feel guilty.

"It's okay, nevermind. Just let him know I was here for Cass and that he ruined all the plans." Y/n winked at the spymaster, on whose face a smirk spread.

"Sure."

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her father who lay on the bed for a moment, coughs wracking his body before she went to his side, settling on the edge of the bed.

She had walked directly to his home after she found that Cassian was busy. She had nothing else to do, and it had been over ten days since she saw him, so she had to go meet him anyways.

But the moment she entered, she heard him coughing from his room, and she had run up as fast as she could.

"Father? Are you okay?" She questioned as she placed her palm on his forehead.

He was burning up.

He continued coughing as Y/n filled a glass of water for him, bringing it over from the table in the corner. She helped her father sit up, wondering what the hell was going on.

After drinking the water, he calmed down a little, leaning back against the headboard.

He lived alone, all his kids having moved out when they came of age. He'd been pretty happy to have his space all to himself too, always grumbling about his clingy kids and cursing their late mother for not being around to go through the torture alongside him.

"Paa? Are you alright?" Y/n asked after a moment when he remained silent.

He sighed at that, patting the space next to him. "How have you been, my darling child?"

Y/n leaned against him, holding his hand. "I'm very happy, father. But that's not the important thing right now. Have you seen a healer?"

She did not say anything else, waiting for him to tell her what the hell was up.

After a moment, he spoke. "Do you know how your mother passed?"

Y/n's blood chilled, and she sat up straight to look at her father.

"Why are you asking me that?"

He smiled ruefully, ignoring her question. He ran his shaking hand through his thinning dark hair through which his scalp was visible, now turning white at the edges.

"She had been so healthy." He mumbled, more to himself than her. "It was all going so well. But one day, she fell sick. We thought it was a normal fever, that it would go away soon."

He shook his head, laughing a little as he let his hand fall limp at his side, only increasing the bad feeling in Y/n's stomach. "What are you trying to say paa?"

Again, she was ignored. "Her condition only worsened. I should not have listened to her and got a healer. Alas, I was madly in love and did not want to upset your mother. Curse her for being so selfless."

Tears shone in the eyes Y/n had inherited, and her heart squeezed at the longing in that all knowing gaze. Her father had always been a strong male, never showing emotions considered negative in front of his kids, so watching him cry now was like a bolt directly to Y/n's heart.

He hadn't even shed a tear at his wife's death, and Y/n, being an angsty adolescent, had resented him a little for what she assumed was the lack of love for her mother. She had grown to understand that all he wanted was to be strong for his kids and he thought that shedding tears with them would make him weak.

"She did not want a healer to come see her, because back then, we were not as well off. It was either get a healer, or feed the four kids. For her, suffering was a better option than starving her kids."

Y/n's father coughed again, and Y/n rubbed back until he calmed. With a sigh, he continued.

"When her sickness worsened to the point where she started begging for the sweet release of death, I dragged a healer back home. I had fought her, yelling at her for being so- so uncaring." A sob ripped out of his chest, tears slipping down his sagging cheeks. Y/n did not move to wipe them, despite how much she wanted to for fear of breaking this moment.

"But it was too late by then. On my way back with the healer, I had planned to apologise for yelling at her. We were both so young, and you were an unplanned surprise. We did not know what to do. And then you grew up so fast, and your mother wanted more kids. We had no idea how to navigate life. It was hard. And sometimes these feelings would just... burst out. And I know it is no excuse for my harsh words, but I have nothing else to blame but myself."

Her father lifted a weathered hand to rest upon her head, and she leaned her head down, laying her head on his lap to hide her tears. "When I reached home, you told me your mother had stopped coughing. I thought it was some miracle and that she'd healed. But then I went to check on her and she... she'd passed." His voice broke on that, and Y/n's throat constricted at the pain in his voice.

"The healer found out that she'd acquired a rare disease, even for mortals, who acquire diseases left and right. It was highly contagious, so that meant I was at high risk-"

Y/n didn't let him complete, sitting up straight faster than she could think. "What? Don't tell me you-"

"Are sick with with the same disease? Yes. It had apparently been lying low in my body, and now it's acting up."

"Paa..." Y/n spoke on a broken breath, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks.

Her father smiled sadly. "I've sent letters to all the kids to come visit me. They don't know that I'm sick, just that I want to see them. I do not think I have much time, but-"

He coughed, and Y/n watched helplessly, knowing she could do nothing but watch and curse the mother.

"Papa, why did you not tell them that you're sick?! They would have raced home if they knew-"

"Yes, but I did no want to bother them. I am old as it is. I would have died no matter what. I'm just dying today instead of tomorrow. What's the big deal? They anyways have more important things to do and care about than this old skeleton covered with flesh."

His entire body shook at the next fit of coughs, and he doubled over.

Y/n, unable to sit and watch his misery any longer, stood. "Papa, I will go get a healer. I'm sure there's a solution."

Her father glanced at her with a small, knowing smile as he settled back, slithering down to lie on his back. "Alright my child. I will just rest for a minute here. Sleep a little." He grunted before he finally settled down, calm overtaking his features. His next words were soft, mumbled on an exhale. "I love you, my little princess."

Despite not wanting to believe the fact, Y/n knew his soul had left his body before that final sigh did.

Y/n knew that the sweet embrace of death had claimed him before sleep could.

•○🌑○•

The door creaked open, soft light from the lanterns outside spilling through the crack in the door as Cassian shouldered his way in, mumbling to himself.

"I fucking hope Rhys gets burning diarrhea. Bastard." He muttered under his breath as he shut the door softly behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible in the darkened house, the only light source the lamps outside.

In the dark, Y/n could not see what he was doing, but she did not have to wait long. The faelights came on, and she found Cassian standing in the middle of the foyer, his hands outstretched out towards the lights.

He jumped when he realised that Y/n was sitting against the wall nearby, staring at him. He grinned wide before faltering, taking in the state of his lover. He quickly made his way over to where Y/n sat, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"My love, are you aright?"

Y/n could do nothing but stare, her eyes vacant and body numb. She had no more tears to give, so she simply stared at her lover as he tried to fuss over her. "He's gone."

Cassian gave her a cautious look, and Y/n could see the wheels churning in his head as he tried to think of a way to get more information out of her.

She spared him the effort.

"My father. He passed."

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @berryzxx

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon

[intheorangebedroom]

Well….

THIS:

Cassian Andor x rebellion pilot!reader x Din Djarin

Is absolutely screaming at me 😵‍💫🖤🥵

Just the thought makes me

💜

Ahahahhaha!!

Thank you so much for this ask, Kyla 🧡🥰🧡 This one is so old. Before I even knew there was fanfiction on tumblr! I spent weeks, no, MONTHS, daydreaming about it, right after I saw season 1 of The Mandalorian. I'm gonna try ot give you the short version because it goes very deep 😅

So you are a teen when the Empire destroys your home planet and kills your family. Classic. You're left with nothing to lose, no one to love. After you escape, you get radicalised and join Saw Gerrera and his crew. With them, you train very hard to become a ruthless killing machine. You can use any weapon, blaster, vibroblade, rifle, your fists, you basically turn your own body into a weapon (can you tell I want to be Black Widow when I grow up?).

However, as you grow older, you don't always see eye to eye with Saw's modus operandi, and when you meet this young rebel intelligence captain (this was long before the Andor series), you decide to follow him.

The connection between you is immediate (yeah ok, I know I have a brand...). You work together, and there's nothing you can't do, no intel you can't retrieve, no mission you can't achieve successfully. You think and work and move as one, two peas in a pod, it's uncanny the way you can communicate without words, and that's what makes you so good at your job.

At night, at the base, you share one bunk bed, and there too your connection is otherwordly. It's not even sex, it's a communion.

It's weird to think of yourself as happy, given the war and the circumstances, but you are fulfilled. You have a purpose, and someone you'd die for.

Until you get word of this super weapon the Empire is building... So here it merges with the Rogue One plot, but without Jyn (I'm sorry Jyn, I love you, but there's no room for you in this pod). On Scarrif, at the very last moment, before the impact, Cassian manages to shove you into an escape pod despite his injuries, and you're propelled into space, drifting helplessly as you watch the love of your love being blown to atoms. You hurt so much you think you’ll die yourself. You want to die. When you reach base they have to sedate you. You miss the battle of Yavin and all. 

Fast forward a little, you become a pilot for the Black Squadron, some kind of last chance unit that gets sent in when the situation is desperate. You’re the best because you're reckless, you've got a deathwish. You’re dead already, anyway. 

When the war ends, the politics start and you’re gutted because half the Imps are pardoned and walk free. So you go rogue, hunting them down on your own. You’re now wanted down by your former comrades, people you’ve fought alongside with. You live in the shadows. But again you don’t care, you’re dead. 

That’s how you end up on Nevarro, helping a certain Mandalorian escape with his little package (my babyyyy).

At first, Din doesn't trust you at all. Things are very rough between you. But he understands he needs you. And he's intrigued. He saw you fight. As for you, you stay because you won't let the Empire get what it wants.

So time passes by, on the run from the Empire and the New Republic. You cohabitate in silence, you fight alongside each other, you take care of the kid together. After a while, you become intrigued too. He’s righteous and competent and a reluctant hero and... broad. You look at him and caught him looking too (as much as you can tell with the helmet). However, you know about the Mandalorian way. And that shit's not for you.

So you strike a bargain. You two can fuck whenever the kid’s asleep, but you only take off as much clothing as he does. So it’s a dance, sort of, over many weeks, months, between you and him. You're tough, and he's tougher, but is he really? It's him wanting more and more of you, so taking off more and more of his armour so he can touch more and more of your skin (yeah I know, the armour-peeling metaphor is not very original 😂).

However, Cassian haunts your dreams. Or rather your nightmares. Even more so now that you’re slowly falling for another man, even if you don’t realise it yet. You wake up in sweats, crying out his name, and Din is fucking burning to know but he can’t bring himself to ask. He grows increasingly impatient and furious at your reckless ways, you take too much risks, it’s obvious you don’t care if you die and he just can’t take it anymore. He cares. And he wants you to care too. He’s giving you his trust, forgoing his way, and you’re not committing yourself. You remain on the edge. And his frustration and anger reach an all time high (*swoon*).

After one particularly violent fight-- wait, should I tell you how this ends??

Anyway, I can't believe myself, I said the short fucking version 🤦🏻‍♀️ The girl who couldn't be concise to save her life (or that of her friends). I'm sorry! Plus it's most likely not the mmf you expected, it's just fight and smut and angst, I'M SORRY!

Here, for your trouble:

(this gif makes me fucking sick)

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

How the Relationship Begins

Fandom: Star Wars

Type: Headcanons

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Warning: Late night writing, so, no beta. Writer is being overwhelm and under Taylor Swift's Lavender Haze (As you can see title's colours). A little bit OOC.

Rate: T

A/N: This idea happened when I rewatch Andor for fourth time. Now, I'm heavily in the writer-block state, but I don't want to abandon this blog. I believe this dilemma is gonna pass, if I keep writing. So, Enjoy!

🌹Click to My AO3

(Divider by @saradika)

Okay, let's start!

You met him on Yavin IV. Both of you were new to the Alliance's main base.

Since it was the main base, that meant you both had to train for necessary skills.

From the Alliance's levels, he was 'good to excellent', while your far-lenght shooting skill was not reaching the requirement. You stayed at training ground, after all new recruits leaved, to improve your skill.

Cassian saw you practising. He volunteered to help you, because he had feelings toward you.

It was the impression at first sight.

He couldn't clearly answer what kind of feeling, but as you were around him, smiling at him and saying thanks, he felt like he was teenage boy - who had a first crush - again.

While you had been grateful for his help and feeling like butterflies were in your stomach, especially when he adjusting your stance.

Not only his help drove you crazy, but also his smiles, his touches and his whispers into your ear - how to shoot and hitting right at the target.

As you hit all targets in all rows, you jumped and hugged him with happiness and exciting.

Yes. It made you blushing hard like tomatoes, while Cassian's heart skipped a beat. So, you two bounced away.

"First time is a beginner luck. You have to practise everyday." He said. "Meet me every day after dinner."

You agreed. You and Cassian kept meeting at training ground, every evening.

And after the semi-private session. You returned to your quater with many questions in your head. The big question was; 'Did you fall for him?'

You shaked them off and switched with the thought until you falling asleep.

Now you had been practising every evening for 2 weeks, until he challenging you to shoot all targets within 30 seconds. You accepted and you did it.

Jumping and hugging him again. But this time you both lingered. His face and yours were close, enough to feel the breathes. His brown eyes bared his soul, you could not fight them.

"Thank you so much, Cassian. I think tomorrow I will pass the test with flying flag." You mumbled.

"I think so, but, why do you looking to another way?"

You still looked down at the floor, almost startling, he was tilting your chin up to look at him. His thumb gently fondled your lower lips, your lips part a little.

"Cassian...I-I.." You stuttered, "I don't know what to say..."

"Kassa, call me Kassa."

Cassian's raptured voice got you, finally you gazed upon him, whispering 'Kassa'.

Like the gravity around you two sent the colossus magnets pulling you both to capture each other's lips.

After few seconds, which felt like hours; you both withdrew for air, leaning the temples together with wide smiles and small laughing.

When you passed the test and registered as an officially rebellion officer, Cassian was waiting for you.

You hopped and hugging him tightly. He praised you and guiding you away from the chaos around hangar and commanding table.

"Would you like to move into my quarter?" He asked, kissing your temple.

"You should ask me out before asking me to move in with you." You teased him. This time was his turn that his cheeks were reddening.

He knew too well, your both works were not certain. The missions after would take his own or your life. Also, his first mission as Captain Andor had been assigned, he must leave in three days from now. So, he had to rush things like this.

But you had a point. He should ask you out for an official date. He made up his mind and asking you to survey the ancient ruins on Yavin IV with him.

You accepted with conditions and terms;

"Okay, I'm going out with you, but about moving in--"

"But what?"

"But after your first mission succeed and our third date. Because I need the assurance that you are gonna return back safe and sound. Promise me."

Cassian smiled sweetly, kissed you before he speaking.

"I'm certainly gonna get back to you, my love, I promise."

Then you hugged him again and kissing his jawline, just like a seal to guaruntee the new chapter and adventure in your both lives was full of happiness, joyous and bright futures. Even those three words did not slip out yet.

[fimproda]

@cassianappreciationweek

Day Two: Gentle ⚔︎ When it comes to those he cares about, we all know Cassian has a big heart (and big hands). How do you think he shows his gentle nature to those around him?

I'll be surprised if I end up being the only one to say cleaning and cooking.

To be honest, maybe I'm projecting a bit: my dad spent a year in the military, back when men got drafted at 18 if they couldn't prove they were either still studying or already working, and then transferred to the Carabinieri police force (we're Italians) in which he's been serving the country for more than 30 years. And I swear, the military discipline, organization skills, and attention to detail he uses when cleaning and cooking are just out of this world.

(He taught me his ways, and on the rare occasion when mom is home and wants to clean—she works more hours than dad does—we're always annoyed with her methods, as they don't align with ours. We eyeroll at each other, it's fun.)

I know Cassian didn't have the same upbringing as my dad, but I can't help but draw some parallels between them, and picture Cassian as the kind of guy who dutifully makes his bed in the morning and makes it look like he's ironed the sheets because there's not a single crease.

Also, Cassian can canonically cook, and I'm hot for men who can provide for themselves.

I know that, in canon, he reaches out his hand to both Feyre and Nesta (and Gwyn, and Emerie, and the priestesses, and literally everyone) by offering to train them, but I can also see him doing the dishes after a dinner at a friend's house or cooking a takeout meal so his loved ones can have something warm to eat at work. I wrote a lil' piece about him stress-cleaning for shits and giggles (and because I thought I needed to add some filler words to a chapter which eventually ended up being 11k words long, but in my defense, I just had to slander Madja's medical malpractice), and now I can't chase that image out of my head...

(Nesta would totally dress him in a sexy maid outfit and have him parade around the house half-naked. Tell me she wouldn't.)

I'm never gonna stop saying that he's the most emotionally mature and emotionally intelligent male character in ACoTaR (or character in general, with no distinction of gender), and I'm tired of people labeling him as a big ol' stupid oaf, as one-dimensional, as comic relief, as undeserving of Nesta, as subjected to Rhysand's every whim as though he didn't have a brain, or all the other BS I've heard or read about him even in this appreciation week.

Cassian should be appreciated year-round.

End of rant.

[sleepykalena]

Hey, it's Secret Santa again! Don't worry about the vagueness, I do have a few ideas already and I'm trying to narrow them down and cater to your tastes a bit, which is why I'm back again so soon. So what are your personal favorite tropes/headcanons/or anything else you like to see in fics? I'll see if I can work some of them in. Have a great day <3

Hoo boy. oh boy oh boy oh boy.

Okay first off, I’m SUPER EXCITED that i got another rcss message so soon- i was honestly only expecting one per week HAHAHAHA (so thank you, eeeee <3)

secondly, i feel like my favorite tropes and headcanons are either too long or too specific, soooo i’m sorry in advance because this is gonna look like a fucking novel (with some added self-advertising) so HERE GOES NOTHING (under the cut because i know for a fact i’mma be extra af here) :

Relationship Dynamic Tropes:

They’re honest with each other. (though if there’s a story about the consequences of not being honest, and they work through it together, that totally qualifies)

They love being together, but can function just fine on their own, so their status as “significant other” is not mistaken for co-dependency

They give the other person a chance to shine first before offering help

They’re basically each other’s best friend. (friends first, lovers later, basically)

They’re such a good team that other people look at them and think, “damn, #RelationshipGoals”

Sometimes they have rough patches but they work together to get over them

each has a skill they bring to the table to get a mission done with flying colors (#teamwork) (also considered a plot trope)

Platonic Tropes:

Banter. Seriously. Give me ALL THE BANTER. I list this as a platonic trope because tbh it’s easily applied to any kind of good relationship, not necessarily a romantic one.

Jyn and K2 actually get along in their own way. I get really bummed out when i read fics in which K2 is antagonistic towards Jyn 102% of the time, either because he just “doesn’t like her”, or because he thinks she’s a threat to his dynamic with Cassian. I’m relatively certain cassian would not want his friendship if that were the case, on top of the fact that such a depiction, I think, wholly goes against K2′s line of “Your behavior, Jyn Erso, is continually unexpected.”

They give each other credit for something, and aren’t afraid to speak up if they feel the other is being overlooked (”speak up” here meaning “take action to rectify it”)

Romantic Tropes (aka: i go heart-eyes when they go heart-eyes) :

Competency kink 5ever

Small/subtle, but impactful gestures

They save PDA for when they’re alone (see also: this headcanon i wrote about, or Chapter 1 of Gestures)

They have a method of communication only they can understand because they love and trust each other that much (whether for regular communication or if it’s their way of declaring their love for one another)

^ On a related note: When one uses certain words, or uses more words than usual, to convey something, and the other hears it and KNOWS they mean serious business because this almost never happens and it just makes the other person burst with emotion on the inside (i sort of touched on this with the ending for Enough, if you need an example, but it’s E-rated, so just a heads up)

Pet names as banter (also a platonic trope, because i don’t actually like pet names or nicknames for rebelcaptain that much)

Plot Tropes:

Sometimes they do stupid/complicated things because they wanted to do a really nice and special thing for the other person and shit sorta just hit the fan

“Someone did a thing and oh my god was that on accident or not? Am i reading it wrong or not? Nah, maybe I’m reading it wrong, i’mma just pretend that didn’t mean anything more even though it’s been 12 hours and i’m still thinking about it”

They’re sorta competitive with each other/it’s a game of cat and mouse and “damn they’re really good at this, i’m in love”

pre-relationship “missed meetings” (i don’t know if this is even the right word for it in English, but the japanese word for it is すれ違い, so uh....if you speak other languages, give that one a shot through google translate and hopefully you’ll get what i mean LOL)

They’ve been partners at work/growing up for so long and “oh shit i’m suddenly realizing i have FEELINGS for them”

One notices something about the other that they kinda overlooked/never noticed/never got to see, and they kinda fall in love with the person all over again because of it

Anything that demonstrates an overarching theme about humanity, the importance of something, etc. Stories with messages are ALWAYS a yes for me <3

That...should be more than enough. Sorry for the novel LMAOOOO

Obvs you don’t have to include ANY of it. Like i said, sell me on the story and characterization and i’m set. I’m always open to “gaining” a new favorite trope or being shown an angle of something that I’ve underappreciated in the past. Since I already outlined my “nopes” when I sent in the application for the Network, i’m sure you’ll do fine. I just have No Chill™

[azrielsiphons]

I meant to ask Feysand fluff fic I'm made you a cake

See my favorite thing as a writer is to write something totally off base of what might be expected from these prompts… I think I did that with this one… hope this is fluffy enough, friend. I’m kind of obsessed with it.

Feysand + “I made you a cake”

____________

“Mor, have I ever told you how much I completely and totally loathe you?”

“Oh quit being dramatic,” Rhys’s cousin snapped from where she stood between him and Azriel, her hand in his. “You’re the one who said you wanted a night out downtown with all of us!”

“I meant a night out drinking, Mor. Drinking. Alcohol. The cheap kind. And lots of it, preferably.”

“There will be alcohol!”

“Yeah Rhys, didn’t you read the pamphlet?” Cassian sauntered up to his friend, hooking an arm around his shoulder. “‘Wine and Canvas Painting.’ Sounds delightful, right? A real party. I mean I personally am gonna get so– ow! Quit it!”

Mor leaned over and pinched Cassian in the side to which he yelped.

“Don’t make fun,” Mor hissed. “My friend Feyre is still in the early stages of starting her own business, and I want to support her. And you guys support me, thus, we’re going to drink wine and paint some damn canvases or so help me you two will–”

“We’re here,” Azriel cut in smoothly.

Mor gave Rhys and Cassian one last glare that would have sent other men running before sauntering up the steps and opening the door to a little shop with an overhanging sign that read, “Velaris.”

“That’s a weird name,” Rhys grumbled to himself as he followed after his friends.

Once they were inside and had taken off their coats, Rhys glanced appreciatively at the space inside. It was… nice, he would give it that. Spacious and warm and full of light.

Mor’s friend - Feyre - apparently owned this little studio and taught art classes all throughout the week. And every other Friday she taught a 21 and up class where they served wine while doing canvas paintings.

And Mor, being Mor, thought it would be a great idea to do that this very weekend instead of going out to their favorite bar, the Illyrian, like they usually did.

“Well where is this friend of yours?” Cassian grumbled. “And where is the wine? If I’m doing this I need to be drinking.”

Rhys and Azriel laughed, but quieted instantly when Mor glared at them.

“She’s probably setting up or something. But her sister and Amren are over there, come on.”

“Amren’s here?” Azriel paled. Mor ignored the other two as they snickered and walked ahead.

“Amren! Nesta!” She called out. Two girls in the back row whipped their heads around.

Rhys recognized Amren, the terrifying woman that Mor had introduced him to a few times. The other one, Nesta, must be Feyre’s sister.

Amren just looked the boys up and down and huffed before turning back around in her seat.

Nesta rolled her eyes at Amren and gave Mor a forced smile. “Hey,” she said without much enthusiasm.

Mor went to reply and sit in the open seat next to Nesta, but the next thing they knew Cassian had practically shoved her aside and was careening to sit beside the young woman.

“Well hello there,” he said in his charming voice. “I’m Cassian. And you are?”

Nesta just stared at him, completely unaffected.

“You literally just heard her say my name,” she deadpanned. She looked back over at Mor. “Mor, who the hell is this guy?”

“I’m sorry.” Mor just rolled her eyes. “I told them to be on their best behavior, but I only have one of them trained.” Azriel narrowed his eyes at her but she only giggled and moved to sit down beside Amren and Azriel followed suit on her other side.

“Oh I can be on my best behavior,” Cassian continued, clearly not taking the hint. “I can be on whatever sort of behavior you want, sweetheart.”

He leaned in close to Nesta, giving her his best seductive look.

She was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Get your face the hell away from my face before I break it.”

Cassian’s brow shot up in surprise and Azriel and Rhys both snorted in laughter. His surprise soon turned into wicked delight.

“Oh just wait sweetheart, you’ll learn to love my face. In fact I’ll bet you’ll be painting it before the night is over. Or perhaps if my charm really sways you, you might even be s–”

“Do not finish that sentence and do… not… call me sweetheart,” Nesta seethed.

Rhys was just about to go sit on the other side of Azriel to avoid all of… that, when someone bumped into him from behind.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry! I just… well I can’t really see right now so…”

Rhys turned to the voice only to be met with a stack of canvases stacked way too high for one person to be carrying. The stranger’s face was hidden behind the stack and it was clear she couldn’t see anything in front of her. He chuckled.

“Do you need some help there?” He offered.

“Nope!” The female voice chirped brightly. “Nope I am perfectly fine. Just fine.”

“Really?” He drawled. “Well then by all means, continue your trek.”

The person froze.

“Right. Yes. Continuing now.”

The woman turned slightly to the left, then slightly to the right. She took a small step forward only to bump into Rhys’s other shoulder.

“Dammit,” she hissed under her breath.

Rhys laughed openly, reaching forward to take half the stack off of her hands.

“Here, allow me.”

When the stack was considerably lowered, Rhys finally saw the stranger’s face - and felt like he had been sucker punched.

With her eyeline free now, the girl blew a stray strand of messy hair away from her face. Her eyes were blue-gray and absolutely stunning. She had a single purple streak of paint on her cheek that he had a feeling she had no idea was even there.

And then she smiled up at him.

“Thanks,” she said, clearly not noticing that he wasn’t even breathing. “Are you here for the class?”

“I uh…” he stumbled, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

What the hell was wrong with him, he didn’t get nervous around girls? Especially not ones with paint on their face and a stubborn attitude to boot.

“I…”

“Feyre!” Mor shouted suddenly, and the next thing Rhys knew his cousin was shoving him out of the way to give the woman an awkward hug over the canvases she held.

“Hey, Mor,” she said in a strained voice, giving Rhys a look that said ‘save me’ over Mor’s shoulder.

“I told you we would come.” Mor pulled back with a grin. “I brought Az, who you know, and then Cassian is the one over there about to get his balls ripped off by your sister, and it looks like you’ve already met my cousin, Rhys.”

“Yeah we… ran into each other,” Feyre said, smiling over at Rhys.

He could’ve died a happy man right then.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get the class started,” she continued apologetically.

“Oh it’s fine,” Mor said quickly as Feyre started to make her way up to the front of the room. Rhys followed awkwardly with his half of the canvases. “Oh and happy birthday!” Mor shouted suddenly.

Feyre froze, whirling towards Mor but running into Rhys yet again.

“It’s your birthday?” Rhys asked, his head cocked to the side.

Feyre paled. “Yes, but don’t say anything else please. I hate celebrating my birthday, it’s just so awkward.”

Rhys grinned, his earlier awkwardness melting away and turning into his usual suave because now he had an in with this girl.

“My lips are sealed Feyre, darling,” he said softly as he sat down his stack of canvases and stepped closer to her. She looked up at him a bit nervously.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself since my cousin thought she needed to do it for me,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “I’m Rhysand.”

He noticed her shiver and grinned a bit wider.

“Feyre,” she replied, taking his hand. “Feyre Archeron. And please don’t call me darling.”

Rhys laughed, walking backwards towards his seat.

“Whatever you say, Feyre, darling.”

“You know if you keep calling me darling I’ll have to come up with a name for you too. How about prick?”

Ohhhh, he liked this girl already. His smile said as much.

He finally made it back to his seat, plopping down next to Azriel. Cassian and Nesta were still at each other’s throats.

Rhys was watching Feyre as she set up her own easel when Mor leaned across Azriel and pinched his arm.

“Ouch! What, Mor?”

Mor grinned like a fox.

“I knew you two would hit it off.”

“You… you planned this?”

Mor only laughed, leaning back in her seat and grabbing the glass of red wine in front of her as she spoke to Amren. Rhys looked at Azriel incredulously.

He just shrugged as if to say, ‘what can you do?’

The class started, and Rhys found himself captivated by Feyre yet again. She spoke about painting reverently, it was clear this was her passion. Her eyes lit up and her voice took on a tone he could listen to for the rest of his life.

Then when the actual canvas painting began, she walked around the room and answered questions, helping here and there. She stopped by Rhys’s row a couple of times, but only long enough to chat with her sister, Amren, or Mor before skittering off to another place in the room.

Rhys huffed as she avoiding his gaze for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Mor giggled. “The chase not working out how it usually does for you, cousin?” She teased.

“Neither is his painting,” Azriel murmured.

Rhys cursed his brother, elbowing him in the side.

“What do you mean?” Mor asked. “What’s wrong with your… Rhysand!” She shouted, leaning across Azriel and smacking him in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stop hitting me!” Rhys hissed. The rest of the class - and Feyre, he observed - was watching them. “And mind your own business. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh do you?” Mor drawled. “Well then by all means, show us your wooing skills.”

Before Rhys could say another word, Feyre had sauntered up right next to him.

“Everything okay back here guys?”

“Oh yes,” Mor said before Rhys could get a word in edgewise. “Az and I were just observing how wonderful Rhys’s painting is.”

Oh Rhys was going to kill his cousin.

“That’s great!” Feyre said enthusiastically, meeting Rhys’s eyes finally.

“Yeah, super great. Go ahead, Rhys.” Mor propped her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Show her.”

“Well, Mor,” he seethed, turning his easel so Feyre couldn’t see his painting. “I actually wanted to show Feyre darling here my painting when the class was over.”

“Oh but it’s just SO good Rhys, show her now.”

“Yeah, show me,” Feyre jumped back in. Rhys melted at her soft smile, feeling a bit like a prick now. “I bet it’s great.”

“Well…”

“Oh for goodness sake.”

Mor leaned across Azriel for a third time, turning Rhys’s easel towards Feyre herself.

“Mor!”

Feyre’s jaw dropped when she saw that Rhys had painted a… cake.

A terrible looking cake with blue frosting and candles that looked like sticks. And in black paint he had written across the top, “Happy Birthday, Feyre Darling.”

She was silent for a few seconds and Rhys thought she might have stopped breathing.

“You…”

“I made you a cake,” Rhys finally said. It sounded infinitely stupider when he said it out loud. “Since it’s your birthday and I just thought… you’re smiling. Is that a good thing? Did I do something right or are you showing me pity?”

Feyre snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I love it,” she said in between her laughter. “I mean it looks… utterly horrendous–”

“Hey now, this is exquisite.”

“But it’s very sweet of you,” she said, meeting his eyes with a genuine smile.

Rhys felt his own lips tilting upward at the corners of their own accord.

“Anything for you, Feyre darling.”

Feyre’s smile dropped and she rolled her eyes.

“You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you, you prick. Call me darling one more time tonight and I won’t go out with you when you ask me after class.”

“Oh I’m asking you on a date now, am I?” He asked, mouth turned up in wicked delight.

“Well you better. You already made me cake,” she gestured to the painting. “Now you have to buy me dinner.”

He met her teasing eyes and realized he was already in deep shit and he didn’t mind at all.

“Anything you want.”