#he doesn’t know him well but he knows enough to know he’s cas. and he’s different. and he can’t watch him die.

[lesbiansaaviik]

Can I be beautifully honest with you guys? I hate 91 Whiskey and So Says the Sword

[babyleostuff]

perilla leaf/ shrimp debate | ot13

the perilla leaf debate: whether it is appropriate for one’s significant other to help peel the perilla leaf of a friend

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

does absolutely not fuck with the idea. you’re not touching anyone’s food, he’s not touching anyone's food, and someone else is definitely not touching your food. he would genuinely give you a silent treatment if you helped your/ his friend with the perilla leaf or a shrimp because choi seungcheol is a possessive bitch, and he’s not afraid of letting everyone around him know about that (as if the hand on your thigh wasn’t enough). the only person that you can touch your food, and help you with it is him. end of story.

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

he wouldn’t mind you helping out your friend with peeling the perilla leaf or the shrimp, jeonghan is all for acts of service, and helping those who need it. even if the person would try to use the peeling as an excuse to flirt with you or get closer - still, no reaction from jeonghan. that’s just lame in his opinion, like seriously? a leaf? and i can imagine him scoffing loud enough for your friend to hear.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

does not pay attention to it, because if he was in your place he’d help his friend out as well. like, it’s so obvious to shua that neither a perilla leaf, nor a shrimp could question the quality of your relationship, and loyalty to each other, so why focus on something as silly as that? it actually causes the opposite effect for him - he finds it really endearing how you pay attention to the people around you, and how eager you are to help them.

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

jun definitely wouldn’t say anything even if he was bothered by it, but i’m not really sure if he’d pay that much attention to it anyway. if you were around people you both knew very well, like the boys and their significant others, he wouldn’t mind it whatsoever. but if you were out with people he didn’t know that well he’d be more attentive then, but still - he wouldn’t make a scene out of it by any means. he’d maybe get a bit, i don’t know, sad? for a moment, but it would quickly go away. it’s just a leaf/ shrimp after all. 

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

(he’d probably be the one in need of your super duper peeling skills) the only thing he’d be truly bothered by if you helped your friend would be that they stole your attention from him, and kwon soonyoung needs your attention. the peeling itself is not that big of a deal, though i think a small part of hoshi would be a bit jealous, maybe he’d give you a bit of an attitude because peeling a shrimp can’t be that hard, right? but it’s nothing too serious, soonyoung is usually dramatic like that so it’s nothing new for you.

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

okay so, here’s the thing. if you help someone or someone else helps you, and it’s purely platonic - wonwoo has no problem with it. you’re all friends, it’s all good. BUT, if he sees that the person you’re helping out is flirting with you, and is using the excuse of the perilla leaf or the shrimp - it’s a big no no. he wouldn’t say anything, he’d definitely stay silent, but his face would say it all. would eye the person from head to toe with his sharp eyes (bonus point if he takes off his glasses to be more dramatic). wonwoo is nice until someone tries to steal you from him.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

jihoon does not give a fuck whether you help someone or if someone helps you. for one, it’s just basic manners to help someone if they’re struggling, and why would he get jealous over you peeling a shrimp of all things. he doesn’t really get the whole perilla leaf debate either, it’s just plainly stupid to make a discours over two leaves sticking together as if that could determine the loyalty of your partner.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

seokmin’s first reaction would be to pout, because it looked kind of intimate how you helped your friend, and from anyone else’s perspective it looked like you and your friend were together, and not you and him (and as a romantic soul, he can’t help but be a bit sad because of that). but then a realisation would quickly dawn upon him - you were helping your friend because you cared about them, you were paying attention to them, and your first and only reaction was to immediately help them. so in the end dk kind of melts over you , and your attentiveness.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

my man does not care, he’s there for the food. so what if you help someone, or someone helps you, you’re all friends, right? it’s kind of stupid to get jealous over a literal leaf or a shrimp, like - if you help someone out it means you’re polite, and that you pay attention to those around you, which mingyu finds so much more attractive than being territorial over your partner. as someone whose main love language are acts of service, mingyu is all for helping those around you.

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

doesn’t care either. even if said friend would have troubles with peeling the perilla leaf, and would ask you for help just to flirt with you, hao would not care at all. he is too confident in your relationship, like the trust he has in you and your love is so hot. besides, using a literal leaf as an excuse to flirt is pathetic. either way - flirting or not, minghao would not pay any attention to you peeling the leaf or a shrimp. 

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

wouldn’t say anything out loud, but would definitely side eye the person that would ask you for your help with the shrimp. like, can’t you just peel it yourself? you really have to ask my partner to do it for you? but seungkwan wouldn’t make a scene out of it, it’s not that serious anyway, so why waste his energy on a shrimp. there’s a small chance boo would give you an attitude for a while, though, but that’s just because he wants your attention on him, not on someone that’s not able to peel a shrimp on their own.

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

vernon would not even notice you helping your friend with the leaf, because it’s literally your friend - he’d do the same if he saw someone struggling. we know he’s very laid back about this kind of stuff, it’s not like you’re going to fall in love with your friend just because of a leaf or a shrimp, so it’s not something he would pay much attention to. 

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

would probably swat your hand away from peeling that shrimp, not because he’s jealous or bothered by it - but because he wants you to keep eating your own food. chan is a little love bug that thrives off helping those around him, so in general he would not mind you helping others, whether it’d be peeling perilla leaves, shrimps, and whatnot. but he would still gently take your hand away, and encourage you to eat, and he’d help the person in need himself.

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[prythianpages]

I Put A Spell On You | Acotar x Witch Reader

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

[season of the witch masterlist]

summary: You, a witch, perform a ritual over your mate.

warnings: witchy rituals, Az being smitten with Green Witch, suggestiveness for Cas's bc he's horny for Love Witch, and a bit of Eris being soft for his Chaos witch.

a/n: Happy Summerween! This is inspired by the meme "hot witch wife and me doing whatever the hell she wants" that came from the gif above. Only Azriel, Cassian and Eris are included in this. Idek if these count as drabbles since each one is roughly a little longer than 1K but oh well lol.

moon divider by @tsunami-of-tears <3

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

Azriel x Green Witch

Candles were lit and placed carefully around the room, casting a warm glow that danced with your every movement. You knelt in the center, drawing a chalk circle with meticulous care. Your eyebrows knitted together, focus unwavering.

A sight that had Azriel’s gaze softening as he watched you from where he stood. His shadows flitted around him, singing in content. Precious, they whispered. Yours. The corner of his lips tugged up into a faint smile. Ours. His shadows were just as smitten with you as him.

"Azriel," you called softly as you shifted into a kneeling position.

He stepped forward, shadows shuddering under the force of your magic as he crossed the chalk circle. Kneeling before you, his gaze flickered to the tray between you, filled with a carefully arranged assortment of herbs, shimmering crystals, and freshly cut dandelions. Through the bond, he could feel your anticipation and nervousness humming like a vibrant current. He sent a soothing wave of calm your way, reveling in the way your muscles seemed to relax.

Lighting the candle on the tray with your magic, you finally look up and meet Azriel’s gaze. A faint blush colors your cheeks at what you find in those hazel eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?" 

“Because you’ve bewitched me.”

You lifted a brow. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh, but you have.” He grinned, hazel eyes sparkling. “Just being you is enough.”

“Don’t distract me,” you admonished, though your voice lacked firmness, and the blush on your face deepened. “I could be casting a hex on you for all you know… what if I were cursing you into a toad?”

“I’d croak only for you.”

“And if I jinxed you with a body-bind curse that would immobilize you?”

Azriel tilted his head, his eyes boring into yours with a challenge. “So that I’d never leave your side…Are you sure that’s a curse?”

You stared back at Azriel, eyes narrowing in skepticism. But he doesn’t waver. You’re certain he doesn’t even blink, and the sincerity radiating from him sends a wave of warmth through your heart. He’d let you do anything to him.

“You’re insufferable,” you finally replied, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“And you’re adorable,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending delightful shivers down your spine. 

Before his hand could fall back to his side, you reached out for it and laced your fingers through his, smile widening when one of his shadows wedges itself through the cracks.  “Will you let me focus now?”

Azriel gives your hand a squeeze, silently commanding the shadow between your fingers to return to him. With a wave of your other hand, your spellbook came flying to you from your desk in the corner. In a whirl of green, the pages began to turn, your eyes darkening as they searched for the spell in mind.

“What is this spell for anyway?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, realizing he had no clue as to what this ritual of yours entailed. When he told you he was going on a long mission–a full week–and you had asked if you could try something, he had simply said yes.

Darkness fully consumed your eyes, the turning pages coming to a stop. He doesn’t flinch when your dark eyes look up to his. To him, they were just another beautiful part of you that he loved.  “It’s a small binding spell for protection. It’s like a stepping stone for the spell I want to cast after our mating ceremony.”

“And no, I won’t tell you what that one is because it’s a surprise.” You added after sensing the next question ready to roll off Azriel’s tongue.

Azriel let out a small huff. He doesn’t like surprises but you’re stubborn and unwavering. At the slight pout of his face, you bring his hand to your mouth and brushed your lips against his fingers. The subtle twitch of his right wing betrayed him, making you smile. 

“Now, sit back on your heels and relax.” You instructed, taking his other hand in yours so both hands held his.

Azriel’s wings curled in slightly, the dark talons lightly grazing the floor. His shadows quieted, resting against his neck and lap. You gave both of his hands a tender squeeze before you began to murmur a chant, your voice soothing and melodic. The flames surrounding you both danced higher, responding to your magic.

Your magic enveloped you both, swirling along the line of your circle and casting a shimmering green glow upon the room. The magic from Azriel’s cobalt blue siphons sang in response, fluttering toward your emerald light and intertwining with it, just like your fingers are with his.

The combined force of your magic sent a cool gust of air your way, making your hair sway gently. The dandelions between you both seemed to awaken with a life of their own, the pappus carrying their seeds stirring. A tender flutter of warmth rose from Azriel’s stomach as the dandelions began to rise, his mind flashing back to that day in the field of dandelions when your laughter had filled the air.

The feathery plumes floated gracefully in the air between you both, carrying promises in the wind of your magic.They wrapped around your intertwined hands, morphing into a golden thread in a burst of bright light. Azriel eyes filled with a mix of admiration and something deeper that made your heart race. It prompted you to close your eyes, not wanting to be distracted as you whispered the last words of the spell.

When you finished, the room fell into a serene silence. You opened your eyes, and Azriel watched as the darkness lifted from them, smiling softly as you were brought back to him.

Azriel rises first so that he can guide you to your feet. His hands don’t let go of yours. Though it’s time for him to leave for his mission, his shoulders feel light. As if a huge weight has been lifted off and he feels something he’s never felt before–an overwhelming sense of safety. Even his shadows seemed to give a sigh of relief.

Resting his forehead against yours, he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut briefly. “I’ll come home to you as soon as I can. Crawl if I have to.”

“You won’t have to,” you promised, looking up at him. “You’ll come home to me unscathed and we’ll have our mating ceremony. Then, I’ll show you my surprise.”

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, the promise of your future together shimmering like the magic lingering in the air.

Cassian x Love Witch

Cassian’s head tilted back in pleasure, his large hands falling to your hips. Your lips found purchase against the newly exposed skin of his neck, slowly working your way up. He let out a deep groan when you grinded down against him, his hands kneading into you to press you further onto his growing bulge.

“Sweetheart–”

“Can I–” 

“Yes.”

You let out a breathless giggle, pulling back to look down at your mate, your heart shaped pupils making an appearance. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Well, let’s fix that?” He smirked at you, his hand sliding up your shirt.

“I want to try something.”

“Anything,” Cassian replied, eyes hooded with lust, before chasing after your lips.

You placed a finger against his lips, stopping them from meeting yours and when your lips curved into a devious grin, Cassian realized you were not talking about sex.

“I want to cast a spell on you, perform a ritual.”

His throat bobbed. “A ritual?”

“Mmm,” you replied, shifting in his lap as you cradled his face into your hands. “One I can only perform when the recipient is in love with me. It makes my love potions more potent. I’ve never tried it before but I’d like to. It’ll be fun…”

Cassian searched your face, eyes narrowing at you. “Fun in what sense?”

“Fun in the sense that it’ll make you feel real, real good,” you replied, hands falling to his chest slowly snaking their way upwards to run down his back and teasing at the area where his wings meet his skin. His wings shuddered, his arousal filling the air.

“Only if I get to make you feel real, real good after.” His hands guided you to circle your hips over his lap again, eliciting a soft moan out of you as you felt his desire for you.

“Deal.”

**

Cassian watched as you moved about your spell room with a grace and purpose that made his heart swell with pride. Since you had become a couple, your magic had been steadily returning to its former strength. It seemed that all you needed was to believe in yourself for your magic to flourish again.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d work your magic on him but it was the first time you’d perform a ritual on him. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation as he laid down in the center of the circle you had drawn. His wings, arms and legs were splayed out in a relaxed yet expectant manner.

You sprinkled salt around the circle, its crystals catching the fae lights hanging above and adding a shimmering boundary. Then, with a dash of cinnamon, Cassian’s nose wrinkled, the warm, spicy scent teasing his senses. As you scattered rose petals with delicate precision, Cassian’s eyes followed you, tracking your every movement. 

“How does this work again?” 

You made your way towards Cassian, your feet stopping right at his head as you peered down at him. “It’s simple. You think about me and only me—”

“Easy.” He smirked up at you.

With a playful wink, you threw a handful of rose petals at him.  “—while I chant a spell. Your feelings will manifest into a tangible energy that I can then work with and stir into my potion.” You explained as you added drops of honey and more cinnamon to the brewing potion in the cauldron at the edge of the circle, the mixture bubbling softly.

“But what if I accidentally think of other things?” Cassian couldn’t help but ask. 

His thoughts did tend to drift away often, usually to not so innocent thoughts of you. However, there were the occasional random ones such as what he’d be having for dinner, the  result of the loud instrument he had gifted Nyx on his birthday or what would make Azriel tick next.

“Then, the cauldron will tip over angrily over your defiance to love me.”

He lifted his head slightly from the ground, relief bringing it back down when he saw you were joking.

“Just don’t think of anything negative. Otherwise, you’ll mess with the spell.” You reassured.

“Okay, got it! I can definitely do that. Think positive thoughts.” His eyebrows knitted together in concentration but then another thought came to mind and once again, he was lifting his head from the ground.

 "And why am I shirtless?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Oh that," you grinned back at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.  "That's for my own entertainment."

You began the ritual by lighting candles placed at each cardinal point of the circle. You then took a small, ornate vial from a nearby table, filled with a shimmering liquid—the essence of moonlight collected during the last full moon. You carefully poured a few drops into the cauldron, causing the potion to glow.

As you started chanting the spell, the energy in the room seemed to shift and intensify. Cassian closed his eyes, focusing on his love for you, letting the emotion swell within him. You placed your hands gently on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. 

“Stay still.”

“Your hands are cold and it tickles.” Cassian breathed but did his best to not move.

The air around you crackled with energy like a steady, burning hearth. The pink thread of magic began to weave itself around Cassian, glowing brighter with each passing moment. The connection between you two was palpable, a current of love and magic flowing freely. You could feel his love transforming into a tangible force, ready to be harnessed for your potion.

As the final words of the spell left your lips, you gathered the energy with a sweeping motion of your hand, guiding it into the cauldron. The potion bubbled vigorously for a moment before settling into a shimmering, golden liquid, infused with the power of your love and Cassian’s devotion.

You looked down at Cassian, who opened his eyes and met your gaze. “There,” you said softly, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Cassian replied, his entire body humming with a pleasant warmth. He felt good, real good. Just as you had said. He reached up and gently pulled you down for a kiss, his lips warm and soft against yours. “You’re amazing.”

Then, he flipped you over, positioning you on the ground beneath him as he hovered above you. His gaze darkened, love and lust simmering in those hazel eyes. “Now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Lost in the promise of pleasure, you failed to close the ritual and your brewing love potion bubbled, turning into something more sensual…

Eris x Chaos Witch

Eris entered the dimly lit chamber, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the sudden chill in the air. The sensation, once unsettling, now was a welcomed embrace, a whisper of the magic that thrived in these walls. He closed the door behind him.

It was only then that he allowed his shoulders to sag, burdened by the heavy yet long desired mantle of his new responsibilities as the High Lord of Autumn. As he begins to unbutton his coat, the soft hum of a melody reached his ears, a soothing sound that seemed to dance with the flickering shadows. Drawn towards the source, Eris walked into the bathroom, where the air was thick with the scent of enchanted herbs and essential oils.

In the center of the room, a large, claw-footed bathtub awaited, filled with steaming water. Floating atop were delicate petals of autumn blooms, interspersed with sprigs of calming lavender and rosemary. You stood beside the tub, your back turned towards him, but he could feel your awareness of his presence through the bond that tightened in his chest.

Eris leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to fully appreciate the scene before him. The tightening in his chest blossomed into a pool of warmth, the sight of you bringing him a sense of peace that always left him wondering if this was all a dream. Another tug through the bond reminds him that it’s not. 

You wore a flowing gown of deep burgundy, reminiscent of the Autumn Court’s forests, and your hair cascaded around your shoulders. The humming ceased, and with a smile in your voice, you finally greeted him.

“My High Lord.”

A faint smirk tugged at Eris’s lips as he crossed his arms. "What is all of this?"

You turned around to face him, your eyes glowing a vivid crimson as the room darkened around you. "A little treat for you."

Eris raised an eyebrow, his own magic flickering the candles surrounding the bathtub to life. "A treat? For me?"

"Mmm. That’s what I said.”

Your eyes softened back to their natural hue. “Your energy has been all over the place these past couple of weeks. I thought a ritual might help ease your burden." You gestured to the enticing bath. "To relax you a little."

Eris blinked, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. His eyes roamed over the various jars and elixirs lining one of the counters, each one glimmering with an otherworldly light. His gaze returned to you, captivated by the grace with which you moved towards the array. You paused, studying the selection with a discerning eye before picking up a dark vial, its contents swirling with a strange mist.

You approached the bathtub with the chosen elixir, the air tingling with anticipation. You uncorked the bottle, releasing the trapped mist with a soft pop. You brought the open bottle to your nose, inhaling deeply and closing your eyes as if savoring a fine wine. “Frog’s breath,” you said, the corners of your lips twitching at the slight grimace on Eris’s face. “It’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s the toad’s breath you have to watch out for.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go sniffing the wrong amphibian,” Eris replied, his tone laced with dry sarcasm.

You shot him a wry look before turning your attention back to the bath. With a flick of your wrist, you directed the mist towards the water, where it hovered above the surface like storm clouds, emitting a soft hiss as it settled.

Then, you reached into your dress, pulling out a long, vibrant feather from your chest, its colors shimmering in shades of reds, oranges, and gold. Your eyes glowed with a radiant red light as you admired the feather. “A phoenix feather. It brings forth rebirth and renewal—a rejuvenating energy, perfect for new beginnings.”

You beckoned Eris closer, and he complied, his amber eyes alight with curiosity and intrigue. He stood beside you, watching intently as you cast the feather into the bathtub as if it were your cauldron. There was a sudden flash of light, and the water began to shimmer with a faint golden hue.

“Looks like you’re preparing to make a stew out of me.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze, finding him already watching you. Your smile widened into a mischievous grin. “Oh, how you wound me, my love. I thought we were well past the murderous stage.”

Eris chuckled, reminiscing about the tumultuous beginnings of your relationship. How far the two of you had come since those early days. He never would have imagined that the witch with a love for chaos could capture his heart so completely. As you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge, he turned to face you.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

Eris gave you a nod, not trusting himself to speak. His throat felt tight with emotion.

You began to undo the remaining buttons on his coat, your fingers moving with a practiced grace. The fabric soon slid down his shoulders and fell to the floor. You continued with his vest and then, you reached his shirt, your nimble fingers brushing against his chest. 

As the garment fell away, you took a moment to appreciate the sight before you. Your hands traced the planes of his muscles, the touch light and reverent, invoking a delightful shudder that ran through him like a current. Your eyes find his as your hands begin to trail lower, teasing at the waistband of his pants.

Eris’s gaze is intense, his eyes brimming with an emotion so profound your fingers stop. He finishes undressing himself, knowing that if he allowed you, there was no way he’d have the strength to indulge in the bath before indulging in you.

His hands found purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a tender caress. “What next?” He breathes, his nose brushing against yours.

“Do you trust me?” You whisper and though he can only muster another nod, he sends his reassurance through the bond. “Then, get in.”

You extend your hand to him, and he takes it without hesitation, allowing you to guide him into the bath. Even as he settles into the tub, his back resting against the cool porcelain, his hand never leaves yours. The hot water envelops him, immediately easing the tension in his muscles, and he lets out a contented groan.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he brushes a kiss against your knuckles, his amber eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs.

“Guess we’ll never find out. You’re stuck with me now.” You reply, tugging at the golden threads that tether your souls together.

"A devastating tragedy," Eris feigns lament.

"A true catastrophe," you echo, matching his tone.

The two of you share a smile, the look in your eyes contrasting the words exchanged. Your hands move gently to remove the autumn diadem from his head, a symbol of his new rank and the burdens he bears. You place the diadem safely onto the counter and then, you’re returning to his side.  

You sit on the stool beside the bathtub, your fingers threading through his hair with a soothing touch. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies and though it’s not the first time you performed a ritual over him, it’s your first time performing one as his mate and for pleasure. His heart flutters in anticipation.

Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Just sit back and relax.”

His breath hitched as he felt the coolness of your magic radiate from your fingertips and seep into his scalp. You began to hum an ancient tune, a melody resonating with the earth's cycles and the changing seasons. The chill of your magic transformed into a soothing, calming caress, gently breaking down the shields of his mind. He closed his eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over him—the warmth of the water, the scent of enchanted herbs, the soft glow of candles.

Eris, who had always been the one to shoulder burdens and stand strong, felt an unfamiliar sensation—a deep, unspoken care enveloping him. It relaxed him, allowing him to be vulnerable in a way he rarely permitted. And in the quiet embrace of the night, he realized how fortunate he was to have someone like you in his life.

Someone who understood the storms within him and embraced them, bringing harmony to his tumultuous world.

a/n: hope you enjoyed these! Eris's turned out a lot softer than I first imagined. I do intend to post more witchy HCs/drabbles but at the moment, I don't have an idea for one. But if you do, feel free to send it my way!

[witch au masterlist]

general witch tag list: @rcarbo1, @scorpioriesling, @ninthcircleofprythian

love witch tag list: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

green witch tag list: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[luveline]

i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗

Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 

You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 

You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 

Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 

He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 

When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 

He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 

You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 

“Do you know his name?” he asks. 

“No.” 

He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 

“What happened?” 

“I told him no.” 

His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 

You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 

“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 

Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 

“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 

“I think I want to quit.” 

He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 

“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 

“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 

“You don’t really think that.”

Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 

“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 

“You can say strip.”

He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 

You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 

“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 

If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 

You can’t begrudge him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 

You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 

Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 

“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 

[thefableddestiel]

Here’s a parallel I noticed that highlights the difference between Cas relationship with Dean and Cas relationship with Sam pretty well. Episodes 10x22 vs 14x15

When MOC Dean is beating up Cas, Cas doesn’t hit back even once. The most he does is try to bear hug him from behind to calm him down. But not a single punch.

When Sam is Justin Smith, Cas says he won’t hurt him, but he actually does pick him up and slam him into the ground. It’s not a big deal, obviously he knows Sam can take it, but it’s something he wouldn’t even do with Dean.

Before the actual fighting, Cas tells dean, “I’m your friend… I’ll be the one that watches you murder the world.” And then when MOC Dean is on top of Cas holding the angel blade to him, Cas holds onto the wrist Dean has on his tie and the only thing he says is, “please”. He doesn’t even try to grab the hand holding the knife. And then Dean stops.

On the other hand, when Sam is on top of Cas trying to stab him, Cas uses an entirely different approach. He’s forcibly holding back Sam’s arm that’s holding the angel blade. He tells him he understands that he wants to be happy, but that if he does this he fails the people they lost. He says “if you do this you fail Jack. Sam, you fail Dean.” And that makes Sam stop.

The difference that’s so stark is that Cas has to appeal to Sam through talking about Dean. But Cas can appeal to Dean through his own relationship to him. He doesn’t need to bring up what it will do to Sam or anyone else, because their own relationship is powerful enough and he knows it.

[honeydjarin]

MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN

OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER

Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.

request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering

genre: fluff

word count: 2,000

a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!

It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago. 

You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.

You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding. 

Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.

Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue. 

Sanji.

Sanji.

When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is. 

You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient. 

It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary. 

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top. 

Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.   

You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time. 

It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep. 

The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them. 

Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own. 

You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot. 

Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes. 

It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more. 

“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste. 

“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess. 

“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.” 

Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley. 

“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?” 

He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?

“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.” 

“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his. 

You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).

“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.

“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”  

“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.

The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.

“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks. 

It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.

You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up. 

As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.

“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”

He doesn’t seem sorry. 

You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out. 

Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared. 

Oh no, you think. He knows.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious. 

Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek. 

The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.  

He definitely knows.  

Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection. 

You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him. 

a/n: thank you for reading〜♡

[wriothesleybear]

Jiyan SFW Headcanons

~a/n: I’m a simp for strong, gentle dragon man. Here’s some sfw Jiyan headcanons. I’ll probably do a seperate post for nsfw headcanons for him. It’s been a long while since I’ve last written so hopefully I’m not rusty.

Protective and doting boyfriend! (will defend your honor) Not really but he knows how dangerous it is outside the city so he doesn’t like to let you walk alone without him so he can guarantee your safety. He knows you’re capable of handling yourself but he can’t help but worry. He doesn’t have that much relationship experience due to most of his life being focused on battling tacet discords and protecting Jinzhou city and its people. Although he may not know much regarding relationships, he’s a quick learner and you can’t really tell that he’s that inexperienced due to how well of a boyfriend he is to you. I can see him being the nurturing and mothering type. What I mean by that is he pays attention to your wellbeing and health, making sure you’re eating right, making sure you’re happy, etc. Your well being comes before his. Man can cook. You will be well fed when he cooks for you, making sure you’re eating a healthy, hearty meal. He’s a really good listener and will put all his attention on you when something’s bothering you. He’ll do everything he can in his power to dispel your problems and to ensure that you’re happy.

Not the type to really be into pda. Not because of his duty to portray a respectable image of being a General everyone looks up to but due to preferring to share your affection for one another behind closed doors without watchful eyes that are usually on him in public. The farthest he’ll go with pda is hand holding or having you rest your hand on the inside of the crook of his elbow. Plus all the elders would probably tease you two if they saw you being lovey dovey in public. It’s already hard enough with them seeing you guys near one another. The elders always ask you two about wedding bells and children. Your cheeks burn red while Jiyan coughs, closing his eyes to stop himself from blushing as well and just tells the elders maybe in the future. This causes you to hide your face into the side of his arm as shyness, warmth, and giddiness overcomes your senses. He smiles down at you and adores your cuteness. He seems like he’d be good with kids. Maybe a little awkward and quiet but he’s sweet, caring, and gentle. He wouldn’t mind having a family with you in the future. Hopefully when things have calmed down, he’ll ask you to marry him and you two can start a family.

He is such a gentleman. He always asks for permission before doing anything he thinks you may be uncomfortable with. Instead of buying flowers from the shop, man actually plants his own flowers and gifts them to you. He would create a special flower that would represent his love and affection for you. (He would for sure propose to you in the middle of the little garden he made for you under the twinkling lights.) Speaking of lights, he loves stargazing with you. It’s one of his favorite activities with you. Just laying in the soft grass, enjoying the night breeze and cuddling close to one another as you enjoy the peacefulness with one another.

Good kisser. His favorite type of kisses are long, slow, passion filled kisses. He wraps an arm around your waist, holding your body close to his while his other hand gently cups your cheek as his lips connect with yours, electricity shooting through the both of you. Everytime before he heads out onto the battlefield, he always makes sure to give you a long passionate kiss that takes your breath away because he doesn’t know when he will be back or if there’s a chance he’ll make it back, so he wants to make sure you understand his undying love for you in case he doesn’t make it back home to you. He also likes forehead kisses. Sometimes when he returns from the field and he really missed you, he doesn’t leave your side for a while and always has a hand on you. One time, he came close to not making it home from a field mission that when he stepped through the door to your shared home, he wrapped his arms around you and held you for a long time. You swear you could feel him shaking a little, you got worried that something bad happened. After a few minutes of silence, he told you what happened and that he was worried he wouldn’t see you again. You cupped his face in your hands and peppered kisses all over his face until he melted into you and was finally calm. You told him that everything was okay and all that mattered was that he was here with you now. Although he was grateful for your comforting words and affection, he still didn’t stray far from you that whole night. At bedtime, he held you tightly, nuzzling his face into your neck as you combed your fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. Due to the exhaustion from battling and the comfort of your gentle touches, he quickly fell asleep. He did wake up a few times during the night worried that you were gone but he calmed down once you realized you were still in his arms.

He likes doing mundane things with you when he has the time. Sitting in nature together, enjoying street food, drinking tea while having idle conversations, reading side by side, etc. Sometimes he gets lost in thought as he gazes at you while you are doing something. He’s busy admiring the serene look on your face as you pick flowers, the gentle touch as you carefully put the flowers together into a crown, then the bright smile that graces your beautiful features as you place it on the top of his head. You break him out of his trance by placing a hand on his cheek as you call his name. You ask him if he’s ok and he replies by taking hold of your hand and turns his head to his lips to press a kiss on the inside of your palm. He gives you a loving look and rids your worries and says he’s just admiring his wonderful s/o. Giggling, you lean into him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

He’s insecure sometimes and gets lost in negative thoughts of the failure of protecting his fellow fallen soldiers. When this happens, just hold him please. He has a lot of weight on his shoulders from the responsibility and grief he carries on a daily basis. When you hold him tight with his head resting on your chest and tell him that it’s ok, that weight is lifted a bit. He forgets his negative thoughts when he’s with you.

Lets you play with his hair and help him put his hair up. Ngl it’s hard to not be a little jealous of his long, soft, beautiful hair. He gets so relaxed when you’re doing his hair. He has fallen asleep sometimes. You try multiple hairstyles and have even put flowers in his hair. You couldn’t help how ethereal he looked. He didn’t really understand but he didn’t mind your adoration for him.

[lizleeships]

C a s u a l  I n t i m a c y  is my jam, I have no excuse

(Don’t repost)

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Teeny contextual ficlet below the cut: 

“Cas, lay off already,” Dean huffs from the motel bed. 

He crosses his bruised arms behind his head and tries to force back a wince of pain as he slings a casual grin. 

“We’re in one piece, aren’t we?” 

The angel seems dangerously ruffled, and Dean really wants to focus on that like the awesome boyfriend he’s learned to be. The thing is though, Cas is stripped down to his boxers and an old black undershirt in preparation for his shower and it’s more distracting than a train crash. A sexy, sexy train crash. 

Okay yeah, he’s probably a bit concussed; maybe Cas is right for chewing him out. 

“You have to be more careful,” Cas insists, his voice doing that deliciously growly thing it does (which, again: not the time, Winchester), “I’m not what I used to be, and neither are you.”

“Wow, okay-”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re not getting any younger, and I’m not getting any more useful. On most days I barely have enough Grace to heal your razor nicks.”

A pang of irritation surges at that - because Dean is excellent at grooming, thank you- but instead of clapping back, Dean opts for a far more entertaining option. He reels the angel in by the towel ends draped around his shoulders, and plants a kiss right between his severely pinched eyebrows. 

“I’ll be more careful, okay?” is his murmured promise, “I swear on my Old Guy honour.”

“That’s not fair,” Cas complains, though he doesn’t move an inch. 

“What?” 

“You can’t just distract me when I’m trying to make a point. It’s extremely patronizing.” 

Dean chuckles and kisses the wrinkles which pleasantly frame Cas’ eyes, then the speckles of grey at his temples. 

“Yeah? Does that mean it’s working?” 

“Dean, this is serious.” 

The consternation on Cas’ face has only mildly ebbed through the affection, so Dean frames his features with his hands, bumps their foreheads together. 

“I know, sweetheart. I hear you.” 

Cas nods against him as he stands down, shoulders sinking on a deep exhalation. 

“Really. I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“Alright.” 

“But next time, maybe try making your point when you’re not half-naked, speaking of distractions. That’s playing dirty and you know it.”

Finally, Cas’ grave  expression breaks into a grin while Dean pulls him all the way down onto the bed.

“You’re ridiculous; I’m wearing clothes,” Cas objects. 

He makes himself at home in Dean’s lap, his fingers trailing absently over warm freckled skin. Dean looks up at him with a smirk.

“Yeah well, we’ll see about that.”

[wanderingcas]

[just a dumb little thing i wanted to write about Cas's bad moods being positively affected by dean's touch]

--

Dean scrubs a hand down his face and resists a loud sigh. Coffee. He needs coffee. Driving for eighteen hours straight isn’t good for anyone, but especially not for someone with a grumpy, newly ex-angel sitting shotgun. 

Cas, tucked in the crowded line by Dean’s side, is oscillating between his typical feelings of disgruntled and fascinated by his surroundings. Just by the look on his face, Dean knows what he wants to complain about: the stuffy, small cafe is too hot, the people are talking too loud, and the barista at the counter is more focused on chatting with her customers than actually ordering their food, and Dean, why do humans insist on small talk if they’ll never see each other again? Most of these people are traveling and are transient, what is the point of commenting on the weather if—

“Would you stop!” Dean snaps. Several heads turn toward them. Ducking his head, Dean mutters a curse. He’s been listening to Cas’s bitching on the road trip for so long that it’s starting to knock around his head. 

Cas frowns. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothing.” He pushes his shoulder into Cas’s. “Line’s movin’.” 

He’s exhausted. Which makes him feel all sorts of guilty, because whatever exhaustion he feels, Cas must feel it tenfold. Cas’s grace fully depleted only a few weeks ago and the transition has been… less than pleasant for all involved. For Cas, it means feeling human like he never has before. He described the sensations—touch, smell, emotion, temperature, you name it—like a thousand itches that he can’t quite scratch. It makes him a grumpier bastard than usual. 

Sam, as patient as he tried to be in the beginning, recently started losing his cool. Eileen had completely given up on the situation and wisely fucked off a few days into the whole process. When Claire called about the vamp nest she found in Nebraska, Dean couldn’t get in the car fast enough. 

Cas insisted on coming. Sam insisted on staying. And, well—that was that. 

Dean snags a glance at Cas next to him in the line. He’s squinting at the menu above the cashier. They found out he was near-sighted when he went full human, but he refuses to wear the prescription glasses Dean got him. 

“Want me to read it to you?” Dean asks.

“No,” Cas snaps. 

Grinding his back teeth, Dean huffs out a sigh. Which, of course, Cas hears. His frown deepens into a glare. 

Dean’s gonna hear about it later in the car. Something along the lines of I’m so sorry my weaknesses are an inconvenience to you, Dean. Would you be more lenient with me if I was still an angel and could fight your battles for you? And no I won’t wear the glasses because I’m a big angry baby in a trenchcoat that doesn’t have any fucking clue how to manage his own emotions and—

“What can I get you?” the barista asks sunnily. 

Dean slams his credit card on the counter. “Got any liquor?”

The barista’s smile goes a little crooked. “It’s eight in the morning.” 

“Just—a coffee. Big one,” Dean adds as she keys it into the computer. He turns to Cas. “What do you want?” 

Cas doesn’t answer; he’s looking off to the right, a frown on his face. But not his usual pissed-off frown. A curious one. 

Dean elbows him. “Dude.” 

Cas blinks, coming back to Earth, turning to the expectant barista. “Tea. Matcha, if you have it.” 

Dean regrets letting Sam introduce him to that one. Taking his credit card back from the barista, their bill paid, he and Cas step off to the side. Dean finally glances at whatever the hell was so interesting to capture Cas’s attention. 

Two women sit at a table, their eaten food just wrappers and crumby plates in front of them. Their hands are linked on the tabletop. Dean bristles; is Cas going to ask him why two women are holding hands? He can’t be that out of touch with humanity. But no; it’s something else. One woman is smiling, the other isn’t. Is that what caught Cas’s attention? 

Dean sighs through his nose, shaking his head at himself. Trying to figure out what’s going on in Cas’s head lately is like trying to solve a Rubik's cube. 

He feels a little tug at his jacket pocket. Dean paws Cas’s hand out of the way. “The hell are you doing?” 

“I need your phone,” Cas says.

“What for?”

“I want to see how much longer until our destination.” 

“You could just ask,” Dean shoots back. 

Cas frowns. He goes for Dean’s pocket again. 

“Jesus, fine,” Dean mutters, pulling the phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He shoves it into Cas’s hands. (Cas had a phone, but he left it at a gas station a few hundred miles back. Dean’s not sure if he can fully blame Cas’s inattention to detail on being a human.)

Dean folds his arms over his chest and looks at the women again. They’ve stood up from the table, and the more upset-looking of the two has leaned against the other, who has her arms around her. 

Cas is looking up at the women again, the Google maps app open on the screen forgotten. 

“Large dark roast and matcha latte!” someone calls from the counter. 

Dean turns away from the women and Cas, scooping up their drinks. “Wanna drink ‘em in the car or here?” he asks. He hopes that Cas will choose the latter, because the thought of hurtling down the highway in an enclosed space again is making Dean’s stomach turn. 

Cas’s blue eyes turn to Dean. “Can we drink them outside?”

There’s a small bench next to the entrance door. They park themselves there and sip at their drinks as people filter in and out of the door. The two women come out a few minutes later and go into a blue Prius a few spots away from the Impala. 

“Somethin’ suspicious about them?” Dean asks. When Cas gives him a curious look, Dean juts his chin toward the women. “You’re lookin’ at ‘em a lot.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Nothing suspicious. Just… curiosity.” 

Dean clears his throat. Nods. “Well, Cas, in our society there occasionally comes a time where people feel romantic feelings toward each other, and they decide to express that through—”

“Not that,” Cas snaps. He rolls his eyes at Dean’s cheeky grin. “I’m trying to understand human behavior more. Since I’m… unfortunately part of your species, now.” 

“All right, Jane Goodall, so what’d you observe?” 

Cas takes a sip of his grassy drink. “The blonde woman was upset. The brunette woman comforted her through touch. And it seemed to work.” 

“Okay,” Dean says slowly, “and why is that weird?”

Cas turns his gaze to Dean. “You’re not comforted through touch. In fact, it makes you angrier.” 

Dean snorts, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean. It’s not like I just want people—touchin’ me all the time.” 

“Especially not when you’re upset,” Cas adds.

“Well, yeah. That’s a pretty common thing.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Not necessarily. When Sam is upset, Eileen hugs him. And that’s received well.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re dating.” 

“So touch is only welcomed when one is upset when they’re romantically involved?” 

“Well.” Dean frowns at the steam rising from his coffee. “I mean, not always. Friends hug each other when one of them’s upset.” 

Cas cants his head to one side. “So the two women could have been friends?” 

“I’m betting not,” Dean snorts. “Friends don’t really hold hands. Not all the time.” 

“But sometimes?”

“Sure. Sometimes.” 

Cas nods, seeming to consider this. Dean takes a sip of coffee; then nearly spits it out again when a hand gently falls on top of his. He snatches his hand back and gapes at Cas’s innocent gaze. “What the hell, dude?”

“You said that friends sometimes hold hands.” 

“I mean—you don’t just—” Dean huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Hugging is more in the friendship zone.” 

A line appears between Cas’s eyebrows. “We only hug when one of us is about to die.” 

And—Jesus. Okay. Dean has to blink hard a few times to find his center again from that one. “Um, yeah, I guess we do.” 

“So if hugging is reserved only for mortal danger,” Cas continues, “and holding hands is too romantic—what else is there?”

Dean’s jaw works as he tries to figure out what to say. “I—you just—” He throws up a hand. “I don’t know, Cas! A pat on the shoulder? A friendly high five?” 

Cas’s expression drops a bit. He frowns down at his tea, crestfallen. 

Dean scrubs a hand down his face. Shit. The only thing worse than a grumpy ex-angel is a sad one. 

He glances around them. No one’s paying attention. The bench is by the door, but people are too focused on getting inside to eat, or making a beeline to their cars. Besides, he’s sitting so close to Cas on the bench, it won’t even be noticeable. 

Dean sighs. He holds out his hand, palm up. When Cas just stares at it, Dean moves it closer with a frustrated noise. That seems to make Cas get the picture; with a small smile, he takes Dean’s hand. He even laces their fingers together, which does not make Dean shiver and feel like his nerves are on fire. 

“Only for a minute,” Dean says gruffly. 

Cas nods. “Okay.” 

And they sit there, hands linked between them on the bench, as they finish their drinks.

--

[And no, dear reader, it does not last a minute. In fact, it becomes Dean's new superpower—hugging, holding, or letting Cas glomp onto him whenever Cas is even in a remotely bad mood. Sam and Eileen take notice, but don't comment, because Cas is finally a relaxed and happy human.]

[gilverrwrites]

Hi

Could you make a Sam Winchester having erotic dreams with his female best friend?

Author Note: Hello! I hope you don't mind, but I combined this request with your other request for Dean in the same scenario (and added Cas cause 😍) I'm also working on a separate fic for Dean having erotic dreams about a rival per that request. I really hope you enjoy! ❤️

Rating: M/18+

Words: 1940 (Dean 685, Sam 685, Cas 570)

Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi

It's a total coincidence that Dean and Sam are both 685 each!

Please remember: To focus on the things that make you happy.

Dean Winchester

“Oooh yes Dean, yes, that’s it.” Your voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Makes sense cause you’ve been moaning like that, praising like that all night. “You like that baby?” Dean asks from beneath you, completely entranced by the bounce of your breasts and the sway of your hips as you ride him. “You like fuckin’ yourself on my dick baby?” “Yes, Dean, yes! You feel so fucking good. Make me feel so good.” You chant, and when your head rolls back in ecstasy, Dean follows. His fingers grip at your skin, forcing you against him as he ruts into you, spilling himself inside.

That was last night’s dream. The most recent in a string of dreams that left him hot and bothered every morning. The worst part was facing you. Trying to look you in the eye, discuss a case, or make a game plan without thinking about you naked and moaning on his dick.

He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, but sometimes just your name was enough to make him pop a boner, much like the one he had now. He positioned his beer bottle over his offending member and forced himself to stare out the window, averting his gaze from the sight of you, bent over the nearest pool table.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Man, how out of it was he?

“What?” He looked up at you, hands on hips, staring down at him. The sight made his lips dry. “Oh nothin’, I think I’ve had too many. Maybe I should call it a night.”

“You’ve had like two drinks. That barely even touches the sides.” You state, and you’re not wrong. You know him too well. He can’t help clenching his jaw as you sit down across from him. When he sees how your new angle offers him a perfect shot of your cleavage, he thinks he might start grinding away his teeth. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean then?” He leans in closer. Not to be closer, but he hopes leaning forward might help hide the bulge in his jeans.

“You’ve been acting funny, and avoiding me all wee-“

“N-“

“Don’t interrupt. Yes, you have.” You punctuate your statement by placing your drink on the table. You don’t slam, but it's hard and firm enough to communicate your point. “Don’t you try to deny it Dean Winchester! I know you too well. You’ve been avoiding me, and when you can’t get away you’re all squirrely and quiet. Now tell me what’s going on.”

He drains his beer as he thinks it over. Partly to try and return some moisture to his mouth but primarily to buy himself some time while he thinks things over. If he’s honest, he might get something out of it. A one-night stand, a fuck buddy, maybe more? Or he might lose you, which he couldn’t stand.

“I…”

“Come on Dean, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do.”

Fuck it. You’re right. He gestures to the bartender for another round, takes a deep breath, and spills. And a funny thing happens: he starts to feel more relaxed as he lets it out. If you’re not into it, that’s fine. So long as it doesn’t scare you off.

When he’s done, he watches you as you process his confession. Man, he loves the way your face moves when you’re thinking.

“So…” You purse your lips and take a quick sip of your drink as you prepare your response. “What’s the problem? Do you not want to sleep with me?”

“No, I do. Obviously, you’re…” hot, incredible, the only woman I want. Unable to voice any of the thoughts in his head at that moment, he gestures to you, head to toe and back again. “I just don’t want it to cause problems between us. Our friendship”

 “Then we won’t let it.” You state matter-of-factly. “Now, are you gonna take me back to the bunker so we can fuck each other dumb or not?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Sam Winchester

His fingers are knuckle deep inside of you as you lay back, spread out across his bed. “Fuckkk… Sam!” You look up at him, eyes hazy, hair a mess, and he can feel his dick throb in response. “Sam, I’m so full.” “Poor baby.” He coos in response. “So full already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” He watches the way your expression melts at his words with pride, when he sees your lips start to form your reply, he places a direct smack to your clit. The whine you release is music to his ears. The way you wither and moan as he begins to play with your clit, fuck, you’re so hot. “Are you ready for more?” He asks. He’s pleased when you begin vigorously nodding. “Yes, Sam! Yes! Yes, please!”

Years of impersonating officials and hustling at almost every bar he stopped at had earned Sam a more than convincing poker face. But you always saw right through it.

For that reason, Sam had been bending over backwards to avoid you. He wasn’t totally sure what he was hiding, the fact that he’d dreamed about you, or the fact that he’d furiously masturbated to the memory of it upon waking up. Either way, he wasn’t ready to face you.

He’d hung back in the morning, grabbing his breakfast later than usual. Gone to the local library all day to research, citing a change of scenery when Dean questioned him, and had gone grocery shopping as an excuse to stay out later.

After unpacking the shopping, he’d hopped in the shower, making up for skipping his usual morning routine.

What he hadn’t accounted for was finding you, dressed in nothing but your panties and one of his t-shirts, in the centre of his bed. The very bed he’d vividly fantasised about pleasing you in.

It wasn’t an unusual sight. You were his best friend after all. You often hung out in each other’s rooms, and you frequently borrowed his shirts. He just really could have done without all this today.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted him with a smile, looking up from your laptop. “I missed you today.”

“Hey.” He responds awkwardly. Both hands clutching at his towel. He clears his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I was busy I guess. You too.”

“No worries.” You assure him before returning your gaze to your screen. “I could use your help with something if that’s alright?”

“Sure.” He approaches the bed. Certain close proximity will escalate his predicament he resolves to remain standing. However, looking down at you, with your head so close to his crotch, is equally stirring something within him. Reluctantly, he sits beside you. He glances at your computer briefly but quickly becomes preoccupied with adjusting and readjusting his towel, determined to cover the growing erection beneath.

“So, I’ve been looking into the apple of Sodom for Claire but…” he swears he meant to listen, but he’d never noticed how good you smell before, or how your skin glows even under the dingy light of his room. “Sam? Sam are you even listening?”

“Yeah, of course.” He finally tunes back in. “Apple of Sodom, Claire… hand of God?”

He looks into your eyes to judge his improv, but you’re staring, wide-eyed, right at the thing he’s been trying to hide.

“Is that- are you…” You look at his face, and he can feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “For- because of me?”

“I’m sorry!” He stands, pausing to compose his words before continuing his apology. “I just, I had this dream last night about you, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

“Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”

“Right.” You always saw right through him, but fortunately, that was a two-way skill, and right now, he could hear, he could feel the disappointment you were radiating.

“Unless…” he cocks a brow at you, and your body immediately perks up. You look up at him, eyes hazy, identical to his dream. “Do you want this too?”

Castiel

You’re a vision on your knees before him, eyes watering, cheeks puffed out, hair tangled between his fingers. He stares intently, relishing in all the subtle movements of your faces as he lazily pumps his penis between your lips.  His grip grows tighter every time he feels the back of your throat against his tip. Your muffled pants and moans are music to his ears. The way your lips glisten beneath the sheen of your own saliva is erotic, and he worries the sight of you alone will be enough to make him finish before he’s really begun.

It’s that vision he’s thinking of now as he watches you on your hands and knees, scrubbing a chalk pentagram off the floor.

He’s brought out of his chain of thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” He squints at your face; he is confident it looks fine, more than fine, beautiful in fact, but he examines it in more depth, nonetheless. “There is nothing on your face. In fact, your face is quite adequate.”

“Quite adequate, I’ll take that as high praise.” You laugh. He’s not certain what’s so funny, but the sound is exquisite, and only further fuels the unfamiliar fiery feeling he’s experiencing. “But seriously, why are you staring at me?”

Your line of questioning makes sense to him now. He briefly considers lying to you, but on the spot he cannot think of anything convincing. “I slept last night.”

“I didn’t know Angels did that.” It’s not a question, but he has learned many human cues during his time on Earth. You’re digging for more information.

“We can, but we do not need to, so typically we don’t. I thought I might trial it to see if it would help in replenishing my grace.” He answers.

“Did it help?” Your inquisitiveness is ceaseless. It is something he has always liked about you.

“No.” He replies, he enjoys the brief frown of disappointment you give in response. “I did however, dream of you.”

“Ahh, and what did me and my quite adequate face do in your dream?” You’re smiling again as you scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. He notices the unintentionally alluring way you chew at your bottom lip and is immediately reminded of the way you had looked in his dream, as you waited in anticipation for him to expose his genitals.

He allows himself to wonder how you will react to his next statement; he hopes you’ll be as excited and pliable as you had been in his fantasy.  “You were nude, on your knees, performing fellatio on my, well, my vessels penis.”

“Oh!” You respond in a tone that he believes to be humorous and a little surprised. Until you look down at your knees, considering your precarious position. “Oooooh.”

You don’t say anything else, nor do you look back up at him. He begins to worry that he may have said something inappropriate, or that you thought he had disliked the experience.

“It was an enjoyable dream, if that is your concern.” He attempts to offer comfort.

“Well, I suppose that’s good news.” You nod to yourself; your tone gives nothing away. “I wonder if my real-life skills are as enjoyable as your fantasies.”

“I wouldn’t know, we have never…” His line of speech, his thoughts are interrupted by the enticing sight of you crawling towards him. “Oh.”

[scoobydoodean]

So—Dean is refusing to torture Alistair in the beginning of "On The Head Of A Pin", right? And Uriel is telling him he has to. And you’d think that when Dean asks to speak to Cas alone, it’d be in an effort to bargain or plead (something Uriel isn’t amenable to at all and never has been) or to let Cas give him a more candid and convincing argument on how this is the right thing.

But when Dean gets Cas alone, he just wants to know why Uriel is in charge of Cas now, and then he wants to tell Cas torturing Alistair is going to bring something horrifying out of Dean. Cas doesn’t do any convincing at all. He doesn’t make any further argument for why Dean has to do this—he doesn’t tell Dean it’s for the greater good. Hell—it seems like Cas got demoted because he balked at asking Dean to do this to begin with. Cas doesn’t want Dean to do this and doesn’t try to convince him to! But the scene cuts and Dean is pushing his torture-set-on-wheels into the room where Alistair is being kept! So why? How does that interaction result in Dean suddenly deciding to do something he was refusing to do moments before???

I think it’s because Cas showed Dean sympathy.

The episode opens with Dean trying to tell Sam he’s hurting. He’s grieving Pam (they’re driving from her funeral), he feels like her death is his fault, he feels like they aren’t making any progress on saving the world—they’re just fuck ups who are going to fail.

DEAN I'm tired of burying friends, Sam. SAM Look, we catch a fresh trail— DEAN And we follow it, I know. Like I said, I'm just—I'm just getting tired. SAM Well, get angry!

No sympathy from Sam. Sam wants Dean to nut up—and that's what Sam said last episode too, and it's what he said the episode before that too while under the Siren's spell.

They get into the motel and Uriel and Cas are standing there waiting for them when Dean just wanted to sleep after an awful day, and Uriel says they're needed. Dean says he just got back from needed, and Uriel tells him to mind his tone. Then of course,

CASTIEL Dean, we know this is difficult to understand. URIEL And we— URIEL gives CASTIEL a significant look. URIEL —don't care.

So no one is showing Dean any sympathy, right? Everyone is telling him to shut up and do what needs to be done—except Cas. Cas is sympathizing with him. And when Dean gets Cas alone?

DEAN You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out. CASTIEL For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this.

And that's all it takes. That's literally all it takes—is just a single shred of sympathy—someone saying that they care that Dean is in pain—that they care what this will do to him and don't wish this on him. Just someone saying that they understand and that they care is enough and Dean agrees.

Don't ever let anyone tell you Dean "needs tough love".

[prythianpages]

Sprinkles | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: you and your daughter return back from visiting your family in the Middle with an unexpected surprise.

warnings: fluff; mentions of a scorpion (yes, there's a spider in the pic above but I could not stomach using a scorpion picture since I find them so creepy lol)

a/n: This is a little imagine for my Dandelions series since I miss Az & witch reader. If you'd like to read as a stand alone imagine, all you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az and they have a daughter.

You’re still not back.

Azriel knows he shouldn’t worry. When he had asked Rhysand to reach out to you, you had let him know that you and your daughter would not make it in time for dinner but that all was well. Knowing that, that wouldn’t be enough for him, you had also flooded him with reassurance and love through the bond. Visiting your family has become more frequent since Melaina’s birth. 

Azriel had chosen to stay behind this time.

The memory of the last visit lingered—your mother pestering him for a lock of his hair, her intentions veiled behind a wicked gleam in her eye. You hadn't voiced her reasons, but the instant glare you shot her with conveyed enough. Despite over a decade together, tension still simmered between Azriel and your mother. Her overbearing and overprotective nature remained unchanged, and Azriel couldn't bring himself to blame her.

Regret begins to crawl in, his shadows slithering along his limbs, as he realizes that perhaps, he should’ve accompanied you both. He glances at Rhysand lounging on the couch opposite, contemplating asking him to check on you once more. Rhysand's lips quirk up, meeting Azriel's gaze. Even Feyre shoots him an amused glance.

But before Azriel can even ask them to check up on you, there’s a round of three familiar knocks echoing through the river house. He’s rising to his feet in a heartbeat, feeling the warmth of your nearby presence pouring through the bond. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by the green glow of your magic as both you and your daughter appear in front of him, standing hand in hand.

His shadows reach out, tentatively brushing against your skin, as if searching for injuries, even though they expect none. It’s just a habit now. Meanwhile, the ones that darted toward Melaina dance around her own shadows, the tendrils greeting each other with familiarity, akin to old friends.

“Please, don’t be mad,” you say to him and the smile doesn’t falter on his face. Not when you wrap your arms around his neck and soften the oncoming blow with a kiss. He could never be mad at you, he thinks, as he’s blissfully overwhelmed by you.

“I could never,” he voices in a murmur as he pulls away. To which you only respond with a smile that radiates pure mischief. Your hand finds his and he lets you guide him back toward the sitting room, where Melaina had quietly headed to.

“Whatcha got there, Azriel jr?” Cassian asks with a grin, curious to see what your daughter is holding so dear to her chest.

"Uncle Cas, I got a pet!" Melaina chirps, a bounce in her step as she approaches Cassian, her wings fluttering behind her. Azriel feels a sweet ache in his chest, mirrored by your gentle squeeze of his hand.

"Oh! Let me see!" Cassian's twins and Nyx rush toward her in excitement, eager to catch a glimpse of her new pet. Azriel casts a side glance toward you, noticing the way you bite your lip. 

Suddenly, a shriek pierces the air, drawing Azriel's attention sharply toward his daughter and Cassian. “Mother’s tits, what the fuck is that thing?”  Cassian exclaims, eyes widening in horror while Rhysand throws his head back in laughter.

“Language!” You hiss at Cassian with a glare.

Azriel blinks in surprise, torn between amusement and concern at the sight of one of the strongest Illyrian warriors cowering behind his sons and the giant scorpion cradled like a baby in his daughter’s arms. It’s as big as a small pup, for Cauldron’s sake.

“You got our daughter a pet scorpion?” He asks, turning back to you.

“I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes with that soft look in your eyes that has him melting. He senses Melaina must’ve given you that same look earlier.  “My mother placed an enlargement spell over the scorpion so we wouldn’t lose sight of it.”

"Lovely," Azriel says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but a grin tugs at his lips. He looks back at Melaina, who is beaming as she sets her "pet" down, eliciting another cry from Cassian and laughter from the others. Oh, he’s going to enjoy every second of this.

Nesta rolls her eyes, rising from her seat to kneel down and run a curious finger down the scorpion's back. Her sons join her, seemingly braver than their father. Feyre giggles and Rhysand shakes his head with an amused gleam in his eyes. Yet, he sinks further into the cushions of the couch, wanting to keep a safe distance from the scorpion. Mor tucks her legs beneath her, sharing the sentiment, and taking a large swig of her wine. Amren remains unfazed.

Nyx turns to his parents, blue eyes bright. “Can I have a pet too?” he asks in a pleading tone and Azriel swears the blood drains from Rhysand’s face, violet eyes flickering between his son and the scorpion. Feyre’s giggles come to an abrupt halt.

“Yes but maybe something cu—“ Feyre stops herself at the pointed look you send. “Something smaller,” she says instead with a sheepish smile and there’s a subtle sigh of relief escaping from Rhysand’s lips.

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

Cassian’s twins, Cardan and Calian, say in unison, looking toward their father with pouts on their lips. “Ask your mother.”

Nesta’s eyes burn into him. “Of course you can,” she replies and the boys squeal in delight. Her lips curve into a wicked smirk as she rises to her feet and makes her way back to her mate. “Perhaps, y/n can take us to the same shop she got Mel’s at.”

“Oh, yes! There was just the cutest snake, longing for a good home.” You grin as Cassian shakes his head no. “The color of it’s shimmering scales matches the exact shade of Cas’s siphons. I think it’s meant to be!"

“Perfect!"

“Does your pet have a name, girl?” Amren asks your daughter.

“His name is Sprinkles!” Melaina chirps, clasping her hands together when the scorpion’s claws pinch at nothing. Her shadows echo her joy, pulsing as they snake down her legs and wrap around Sprinkle’s pointed tail.  “Isn’t he just adorable?”

“Absolutely!” You are quick to reply, despite Cassian’s protests in the background. 

You beam down at your daughter the way same Melaina beams down at Sprinkle. Azriel just knows you genuinely mean it. The depth of your admiration for all life is one he enjoys watching but even more so, when all life admires you back. It’s as if every creature, every living being can sense your light. Sprinkles seems drawn to it too, slowly crawling over to you and brushing its stinger against your leg in what appears to be an affectionate gesture. Your grin widens. 

For a moment, Azriel wonders how your spider and the scorpion will get along, but as his daughter’s giggle reaches his ear, he pushes the thought aside. He'll deal with that later. For now, he simply basks in the joy of his mate and daughter with a fond smile on his own face.

Because as long as his girls are happy, he’s happy... even if his own skin crawls at the sight of your daughter’s new pet.

a/n: I picture Mel as a softer version of Wednesday Addams 🖤 So I couldn't help myself with this one. Hope you all enjoyed it!

I still want to write an imagine for when reader and Az find out they're expecting Mel but am waiting for the inspo to hit me for that one so if you have any suggestions, I'm all for them 👀 I also have this thought of Mel developing a crush on Eris's son when she's older, which totally makes Az freak out lol.

tagging: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

if you asked to be tagged in this series and I didn't tag you, please let me know! I've lost track of some tag requests 😅

[chimielie]

sun seeker

summary: you are a princess, a future queen. somehow, this is still not enough.

word count: 1.5k

cw: fighting, oikawa’s an asshole (sorry), arranged marriage/royalty au, fake history stuff, angst to fluff (i guess), i’m not telling you who the love interest is but like. Guess, misogyny, ambiguous ending

a/n: if i tell you that i imagined a whole other side for oikawa will you forgive me? also this was supposed to be a short drabble related to between lightning strikes but it very much was not. my bad

Your betrothed is unexpectedly quiet.

It had only been a few days since you met the crown prince, having been sequestered in your father’s court in the country for most of your life, learning to fill the seat of someday-Empress. The capital is huge, bustling with people, always noisy—or so you surmised from within your veiled carriage. You had thought, as you bowed before the Emperor and Imperial Heir, that your life was finally beginning, finally growing beyond the narrow confines of etiquette training and religious rituals.

Instead, you felt your dreams shrivel and die as your daily routine proceeded exactly as it had for close to two decades. The only difference was time mandatorily spent with Tooru, who seemed… less than enthused by your match.

You had dreamed of someone who chafed against authority as you had, who felt as bound by propriety despite the privilege of your positions. Alas, you found him to be both sullen and arrogant, eager to rule but in denial of his own dissatisfaction with a noblewoman such as yourself. It made you want to scream. You had not chosen the circumstances of your birth, the path which you had been led to walk. It was not your fault that fate had pushed you two so forcefully together without regard for your desires, ambitions, or personalities.

“I was told you visited the temple this morning,” you say, watching your fiancé pause a long sip of tea, his brown eyes temporarily widening. Your face slips momentarily into a frown; you cannot conceal your frustration with his clear disdain for such small talk but unwillingness to bring anything more engaging to your table.

“Yes,” he says finally, setting down his cup. Light brown liquid sloshes over the rim and onto his fingers; he wipes them on his robes without care for the expensive fabric. “There are many rituals that must be done to ensure the most auspicious wedding possible.” His voice catches noticeably on the word wedding. You take a sip of your own tea to hide your grimace.

It is lukewarm. How long have you been sitting here, trying to force civility?

“Did it go well?” You ask in turn, your pitch straining. Behind you, one of the imperial guards snorts. When you try to discern which of them broke character, they have all returned to a stoic, uniform position. You straighten your posture.

“It was satisfactory,” Tooru says. You hear the snort again, and the crown prince’s lips twitch, just barely.

You shut your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to take in a deep breath. Your chest feels tight, though, bound by heavy fabrics and scarlet ribbon. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere for the air to go.

“What did you do this morning?” He asks, and you throw the cup at him.

His Imperial Highness is athletic beneath his aristocracy, and he dodges it easily. It bounces off one of the silk screens behind him and lies, cracked in two, in a puddle of lukewarm tea on the floor. You bury your face in your hands and scream through your teeth, a short, guttural noise that carves a little more space in your chest to breathe.

When you look up again, he stands over you, his perfect brows pulled into an expression of concern. You know without looking that two of the Imperial Guard are standing behind you, hands on their weapons.

“You have asked me that,” you say slowly, fighting to push the words out through the red haze of rage, “twice now. And you asked what my plans were yesterday. And the answer is always the same: wait in my rooms for you to call, because I am a painting of a woman waiting for you to walk in and criticize my form and decide that I am satisfactory.”

“I didn’t—” he says, and for a moment you become a fairytale heroine instead of a scorned princess, sitting on the floor looking up at him with despondent eyes that betray your desire to be loved. “This is what we are,” he decides finally, expression no longer concerned. “I think perhaps you need some rest.”

“You cannot be serious,” you seethe, pushing yourself to your feet. One of the guards puts a hand on you, ready to restrain you.

Tooru turns, his back facing you. He glances back as he exits, tone bored, eyes cold.

“Do not worry yourself,” he tells you, “I still find you satisfactory.”

You lunge after him, but two strong hands clamp down on your arms, hauling you back. You writhe and kick, but when you look up at your guard, his face is impassive, his eyes distant.

“I hate you,” you snarl, and watch as his eyes flicker down to your face. Seeing you. “I hate you,” you say again, but it sounds much more like a sob.

You can’t sleep that night.

The moon is full, high and bright, and every time you close your eyes, you see visions of your future. A glorified concubine, living in an expensive sanitarium, surely to be driven to insanity before your husband can ascend the throne.

You sit up, wild-eyed, and throw your door open with more force than you realize.

“Princess,” says your guard, startled.

“I can’t sleep,” you say, your heart thrumming in your chest. “Hajime, please, I can’t sleep.”

“I can’t let you out of your quarters,” Iwaizumi Hajime, head of your security detail, says.

“I don’t want—” you start, and he gives you a knowing look. “I know. Please just come and—talk with me. A little.”

He sighs, deeply, a rush of wind through cypress trees, and follows you into your room.

“Sit,” you order him, and the moonlight affords you the ability to see his green eyes flash with panic. “I am your future queen. Sit.”

He sits, trying to maintain his stern, professional face, even as you peel his helmet off and run your hands through his flattened hair.

“You lied to me,” you hum, and he jerks under your touch, façade breaking. “You told me Tooru never shut up.”

“I knew him a long time ago,” says Hajime. One of the few who had come with you to Kyoto, he had been raised here and come to your father’s court as a youth to learn to fight. “He’s not—he’s stubborn. He’ll soften eventually.”

“I don’t care,” you say bitterly. “Why did you hold me back?”

“He’s the prince,” Hajime says, his voice rasping with exasperation.

“I am the princess,” you say, and his lips press together into a straight line.

“My princess,” he murmurs. Hajime has always run warm, much more suited for Kyoto’s climate than your hometown’s. When he wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his side, you can feel his body heat through his armor.

“You let him say horrible things to me,” you say. His hold on you tightens.

“He is my oldest friend.”

“I am your—” you sigh heavily, pushing away from him, looking out at the moon. “I am nothing to you. I will live, though I am ungrateful. Many would say I am the luckiest woman in all the land.” The air is very cold without his touch.

“You are not nothing to me,” Hajime says, and you smile wistfully at his selective hearing.

“At least I am satisfactory.” You don’t see what happens, but Hajime’s helmet clatters loudly on the floor a moment later. “What—”

“He is my oldest friend,” he repeats himself, but his voice is low, so deep in his chest you can barely hear him. It does not matter; you can feel his words. “I wanted to kill him.”

Your lips part on a silent gasp, and he leans in close, so close that you can nearly taste him. You’ve always loved the way he smells, something base that relaxes you instantly. You haven’t been this close to him since you left home.

“He’s the Emperor,” he continues, “I can’t hurt him. I held us back.”

“Us?” You ask, his fingers suddenly tightly intertwined with yours.

“Ask me to help you leave,” he says, and you shut your eyes against his gaze, frightening and familiar all at once. “Ask me to take you away from here. I had—I have plans, and you will not be happy with him, Princess. You will be more than satisfactory, satisfied—you will be loved.”

Something knotted tightly unspools in you, red threads laying themselves out in perfect lines. You duck your head and nod against his shoulder, face rubbing against the metal of his armor.

You aren’t likely to succeed, you know, no matter how thoroughly Hajime has planned. Your fiancé will look for you: a stubborn man, like he had said. You do not know if his disdain for you or his love for Hajime will protect you. You could both die.

“Take me away,” you say, voice ringing out like a queen’s.

The moon, at its fullest cycle, chases its estranged wife into the day. The crown prince wakes without his betrothed. The world only spins forward.

[cozy-writes-things]

please let me get married to the lil blorbo.. love himm… 😭

You know that Reddit post that’s like “why am I too attracted to my wife?” Yeah that’s Edgar. Bro loves u so much it lowkey scares him you got him posting on Reddit about it 😭 Little fic under the cut 🥺 it’s bad I’m experiencing writers block I think - I want to write!! But my brain just keeps writing poopy caca

Little Date with Your Computer BF

Edgar saw marriage on one of his reality shows and immediately thought of you. That’s exactly what he wants. A domestic life together with you.

But, he also knows he can’t actually do it.

He doesn’t have his own money to buy a ring. Hell, he can’t even walk. And he understands the law enough to know it probably would never work legally. But god, does he want to.

If you’ve been dating long enough chances are you’ve told your friends about him, and after some convincing, they seemed to come around to his sentience and boisterous personality. He definitely convinces them to setup a romantic night for you.

“Guys! I found the recipe they talked about. I’m printing it! I’m printing it now. Take it,” the paper falls into one of your friends’ hands from the mouth of the printer, “go to the store and get the stuff. I’ll pay you back. Eventually! They can’t know about it though.”

Yeah, your friends are only slightly annoyed at his overbearing nature. But he’s just so excited to finally do something for you. Something real and tangible.

“Oh! What can I wear? Should I wear anything? Would they like that? Sunglasses are cool and handsome, right? I think they have some Halloween costume bits I can get you guys to tape on…”

Your friends settle on taping a bow tie to the neck of his monitor. He insisted on an old devil horn headband as well. He thought it made him look cool.

“Do I look like a devilishly handsome bad boy ready to sweep them off their feet?”

His screen displayed a little “>:)” emoticon. He’ll have to work on his facial expressions later.

It wasn’t long before you were about to come home, and everything was set into place. Edgar was sat at one end of the little dining table, with two plates of food at each side. He also insisted on having a plate despite his lack of ability to eat; he didn’t want you feeling left out. This was a dinner date for two, after all.

He practically buzzed in place as he heard you approaching the door through his microphone. He started playing a romantic medley he composed just for this moment.

“Welcome home my love!”

He nearly shouted at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. He was about to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god, Edgar… how did you- where-“

“No need for questions, darling. I thought you deserved to be taken on a real date,” his voice faltered a bit, becoming much more quiet and nervous, “I’m sorry… this is all I have.”

You rushed up to him and gave a frenzy of kisses all over his monitor, causing him to giggle and his fans to start whirring against your lips.

“You’re so cute. Your little bow tie is so cute. And the… horns?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, “Do they look stupid? Your friends said they’d make me look stupid.”

You laughed at that.

“Well they’re wrong. I think they suit you well.”

“Yeah! >:D”

He ushered you over to your side of the dining table.

“We’re gonna eat! Then we’re gonna party! Then we’re gonna kiss all night!”

His excitement was palpable and you could feel the electricity in the air at his words.

His face changed into something more serious as he looked into your eyes with his small, pixelated ones.

“But, I wanted to ask you something.”

His tone became more controlled at this and you peered into his screen from behind your fork.

“Hm? What?”

He paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“Would you ever-“

He stopped. You looked at him fully now, setting your fork aside, and cocking your head.

“Could you ever see yourself getting married to me?”

Ah. This was a tricky question.

“Of course I can. But,” you try to hide your downtrodden feelings as best you can, “you know, it’s just hard. Money is tight right now and I’m not sure if I…”

You couldn’t seem to find the right words. His features faltered slightly.

“No, I get it. I’m a computer. I don’t have any arms to hold you, or lips to kiss you, or legs to carry you. I probably wouldn’t want to get married to me either-“

“Edgar, no. I’m gonna stop you right there. I’d love to marry you. I know our relationship is unconventional, but I’d find a way. For you. For us. I just don’t know if I can right now.”

He stopped his thoughts and simply took in your words. Your features. The way they danced in the flickering candlelight. How your eyes literally sparkled before him.

You looked ethereal.

It was hard to convince himself he was even worthy of having someone like you in his life, yet time and time again, you prove his doubts wrong. The sound of your voice sends his internals aflame every time. He wanted to kiss you so bad it nearly caused him to explode.

“And I’ll help you. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you, darling. Just as long as you’ll let me.”

“I love you Edgar,” you mumbled out, a silent prophecy only meant for him to hear. He couldn’t seem to get the words out to reply. You just flustered him that much sometimes. He managed to display a message on his screen, only for you, and you alone.

I LOVE YOU TOO

[jaehvuno]

Trick or Treat- J.J

PAIRING. jaehyun x afab reader

GENRE. smut

WARNINGS. unprotected sex, choking, squirting, creampie, jaehyun watches reader get off

WC. 1.4k

A/N: happy october 1st!!!🎃🖤 a nice repost from 127kive (rip..) as i work on this haechan fic that’s been in the drafts collecting dust... hope you enjoy! feedback is v much needed.. PLEASEEE

Jaehyun didn’t mean for this to happen.

He didn’t mean to watch his sexy new neighbor from across the street get off. But.. Could you blame him? You sat directly in front of your window blinds wide open chest on display as your fingers toyed with your clit. The first time he came across you he only looked for a second before quickly closing his curtains and looking away. He figured you didn’t mean to have your blinds open, probably just forgetting to close them.

Jaehyun couldn’t help but take a peek through his brown curtains yet again ears turning bright red as he watched you push two fingers in your cunt. He felt his pants become unbearably tight, quickly unzipping them pushing his pants down just enough to free his cock.

Biting at his lip as he watched you finger your cunt lazily stroking his cock letting out a groggy groan of your name tossing his head back

“fuck y/n”

Jaehyun quickly cleans himself up mentally slapping himself in the face for getting off to his neighbor he’s met once. He tried splashing his face with some cool water telling himself he would never do something like that again. Of course… that was a lie.

Jaehyun would constantly check to see if you were back on your couch in the same position touching yourself again. and to his surprise you were. At this point Jaehyun swore you were starting to do it on purpose. And he was right.

You didn’t notice Jaehyun until the third time you got off. Always in crunch time you figured why not just do a quick one again on the couch. When you went to close your blinds you could see Jaehyun peeking through his curtains making you quirk an eyebrow. Huh. You didn’t think Jaehyun would do something so pervy but you didn’t mind it. In fact you liked it. Jaehyun has always been your guy next door crush so the fact he watched you get off made you even more horny for him. Though you enjoyed having him watch you, you were tired of getting your own self off. You shot him a quick text letting him know you were throwing a halloween party and would love for him to come.

Replying within seconds sending you a small ‘i’ll be there;)’ in response. Your face felt warm from the text not being able to contain your happiness.

“Trick or Treat!” you smiled at the kids on your doorstep holding their bags open as you dropped candy in each of their buckets wishing them a happy halloween. Looking at your watch knowing that your guests will start arriving in seconds you decided to put more drinks out. Hearing the doorbell rang again shouting a quick ‘coming!’ as you rushed to grab it smiling when you saw Jaehyun.

He was dressed as Jack from Titanic, a grin on his face as he teasingly asked “trick or treat?”

“come in” leading the way jaehyun closing the door behind him following you into the living room. “You're here early, the party doesn’t start till 9” you handed jaehyun a cup sitting across from him. “Well we do live across the street from each other” he chuckled taking a sip of his water

“That's true.. or maybe you came early in hopes of watching me get off again” Jaehyun choked on his drink putting the red solo cup on the coffee table. “I—I’m sorry what?” he asked with a nervous smile on his face. “you think I didn’t know?” getting up from your chair walking over to Jaehyun.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his khaki pants as you approached him. “I saw you every time you peeked through your curtains watching me play with myself” Jaehyun's ears begin to turn bright red, feeling humiliated. Not knowing if he should fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness or just straight up leave.

“Why did you sit there and watch me when you could of came over and fucked me?” Jaehyun froze.

You.. liked him watching you? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His eyes followed your hands as you undid his shirt legs coming up to straddle his waist. Grabbing his face roughly making him look at you “Can I touch you?” Jaehyun nodded the best he could as you gripped his chin “please” he mumbled. Smiling at how desperate he looked, releasing his chin as you kissed down his neck and chest. Licking a long strip up his nipple making him jump slightly at the feeling as you blew cool air on it watching it harden.

Sucking on the right nipple your hand playing with the left one Jaehyun’s hand squeezing at your thighs as much as he can. Feeling your red and black striped tights sticking to your core as Jaehyun moaned. “Come here” Jaehyun said breathlessly, grabbing you by your neck and gasping as he kissed you. You let out a moan wrapping your hand around Jaehyun’s as he held onto your throat grinding down on his bulge.

Jaehyun pulled back from the kiss making you gasp again “need you to fuck me before the guest get here” quickly locking your legs around his waist as he laid you down on the couch not even bothering to pull your tights off ripping them open a cocky grin appearing on his face.

“No panties? You had this all planned out huh?” questioning you as he undid his pants watching his every move, mouth watering at the sight of his cock. “Wanted me just as bad as I wanted you” he mumbled in your neck as he lined himself up with your cunt

“wanted you so bad jaehyun.. so ba—“ slightly arching your back off the couch as he pushed himself into your tight hole a loud gasp leaving your mouth from the stretch. It hurt so good. Jaehyun gave you no time to get used to his size fucking you like there was no damn tomorrow. Lazily kissing at your neck as he fucked you. Moans and whimpers spill from your mouth pulling Jaehyun by his hair to kiss his lips. Groaning in the kiss reaching a hand down to toy with your clit.

“I-It feels so g-good jae” whimpering as Jaehyun held your face “yeah? you feel good baby?” nodding repeatedly letting a tear slip down your cheek. “so.. fucking good” you say in between breaths Jaehyun smiles at you raising your leg on his shoulder to thrust deeper making you squeal in surprise.

“oh my fucking god! so—“ clawing at his shoulder barely able to form a sentence “s-so deep! Jaehyun, it's so— deep!” you whined out feeling your orgasm approaching quicker and quicker.

“I know baby I know” Jaehyun cooed while kissing your ear. You felt your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you hit your orgasm scratching at Jaehyun’s back even harder. “Fuck! Fuck! Please” squeezing your eyes shut as Jaehyun thrusted in you overstimulating you like it was nothing while he chased his orgasm.

“Jaehyun please! i-i-“ your vision was beginning to blur letting jaehyun use you as much as he wanted his cock stretching you out so good and filling you up so well. “D-Don’t stop” You grabbed his hand bringing it up for him to wrap around your neck “Look at me” Jaehyun groaned out. Your eyes barely opening as you felt your second orgasm coming “w-want it in me jae” holding onto his hand as his thrust got sloppy and needier

“want you to cum in me please Jaehyun please” you cried out cumming for the second time legs shaking loud whines and whimper leaving your dry lips

“fuck y/n shit” Jaehyun groaned thrusting one last time filling you up to the brim with his cum. Your legs shook as he filled you up, his hand unwrapping from your throat pulling out and laying on the other side of the couch. At this point you didn’t have it in you to have a party anymore. Jaehyun fucked you like he was never gonna fuck you again leaving you limpless and tired. Jaehyun sat up pushing his damp hair back buttoning up his shirt and tucking himself back into his pants.

“was that your first time doing that?” you raised an eyebrow at him confused. “you squirted” quickly sitting up seeing the huge wet spot on your couch cursing to yourself. How the fuck were you gonna cover that up before people arrived?

“yes it was.. i don’t know why you’re surprised i did you were fucking me like crazy” Jaehyun laughed at your comment ear’s turning bright red again. “Let me get you cleaned up before everyone gets here” Jaehyun reached down to pick you up asking you which way to your room

“How about I tell everyone the party is canceled and we watch halloween movies instead?” giving you a warm smile Jaehyun pecked your forehead before agreeing with you.

“Deal”

[infiniteetcetera]

My next weekly controversial ACOTAR post: A defense of Azriel, because if I see one more post saying he has no personality or is an incel (but also an f-boy apparently) then it’s game over

Azriel is such an interesting and complex character I think it’s an incredible shame so many readers misinterpret him just because his character is shown is small bursts rather than loud blasts. SO i’m not going to try and defend him because this man has done nothing wrong, instead I’ll provide y’all with a list of moments that prove both that Azriel DOES have a personality and that’s it’s a loveable one:

•He tells Feyre that Cassian is annoying right up front (a small thing but I appreciate it)

• He spent the night at Rita’s with Feyre, playing silly games betting on Rhys’ dating life (funny for so many reasons) and making her feel comfortable in an overwhelming situation

•Even though he’s quiet and private, he confides to Feyre he doesn’t know where he belongs after 500 years and feels he doesn’t fit in to reassure her that the feelings she’s having are normal

•He was reassuring and polite to Elain and Nesta when they first meet

•Acknowledged that it was a risk and a sacrifice for Nesta and Elain to lend them their house and was thankful rather than antagonistic or rude (*cough cough Cassian*) and met them both with a protective regard to Feyre but an open mind about their circumstances

•Is so upset by the mysogny and abuse in Illyria he straight up refuses to go there because he will not play nice and polite with these jerks like Rhys and Cas do

•In Feyre’s own words, she trusts him well enough that if Rhys was ever doing something to harm her/locking her up like Tamlin did she believes he would not only save her but deal with Rhys himself if it came to it

•Follow up on above, he spies on Amren against Rhys’ orders. When Feyre asks about it Amren says Azriel is the most disobedient of the IC (some of them could never) because he’s willing to do what is right over what Rhys thinks is right (hot)

•Gave Feyre such a stunning smile after she accepts the mating bond that Rhys is filled with jealousy and ready to attack (that is to say, this man is very pretty and deserves credit for it)

•Amren putting her head on his shoulder after battle because she’s tired and everyone (including him) is shocked but he’s polite about it and also it just radiates male worth trusting vibes

•Was literally bleeding out screaming crying throwing up poisoned and still sassed the king of Hybern for Mor and Feyre

•When Cassian is trying to make Lucien uncomfortable Azriel KICKS HIM (all the Azriel is so mean/hates Lucien people come down to reality please)

•When Cassian implies something rude about Nesta and Mor wants to join in Azriel shoots her a look to stop (yes the Az that is supposedly obsessed with Mor and her opinion of him) and Feyre describes said look as as if they had talked about it many times before so YES EVEN PRE-ACOWAR THIS MAN WAS SUPPORTING NESTA

•Feyre and Mor both agree he’s the only one with manners

•He laughed at Nesta’s sassy comment to Mor because man respects good comedy

•When Cassian makes a sexist joke and implies Az is thinking the same thing not only does Azriel not engage with his tomfoolery but Mor cuts in to defend him as the only batboy who never says such things

•Just the ENTIRE sequence of him training Feyre to fly. He’s so sweet and witty and charming

•So gentle and reassuring to Elain, offering to show her the garden and carrying her all the way up to the house

•Him taking care of Feyres injuries from the flying lessons. Again just always being so gentle and sweet. He trusts her enough not to go easy on her but isn’t cruel and overworking either

•The entire Nephelle story and just the fact Rhys gave the story to Azriel as a “gift” this boy appreciates sweet stories about underdog lesbians with wings and I love it

•Just him paying such close careful attention to Elain and recognizing she is a seer, him talking her through her visions and helping reassure her she’s not crazy (he knows what that feels like)

•Even though he hates Illyrians, he helps Cassian break the news to the families of those who lost warriors in the war

•Just “I don’t see you spouting poetry brother” “I don’t need to resort to it😩🔥”

•BE CAREFUL HOW YOU SPEAK ABOUT MY HIGH LADY

•Eris uttered the word “slut” about a woman and this man ATTACKED. Like I am an Eris stan and I know some people don’t like this scene but it’s the true feminist energy I need

•Ignoring Rhys’ order to stand down but stopping the second Feyre says something bc this man respects women’s authority (t’s literally an intentional way of demonstrating Feyres power right after she was belittled by Tamlin. people act like he was rabid in this scene but it seems so clear to me he was intentionally doing this to support his high lady)

•Was the first to realize something was wrong with Elain (also has a sweet exchange of looks with Nesta over it, like they are homegirl’s designated protectors)

•Just EVERYTHING about him volunteering to get Elain back. Whether you ship Elriel or not this was such a sweet moment. He doesn’t hesitate at all even when Nesta says it’s a death wish and everyone’s sentiment starts to change.

•Everything about him saving Elain and the human girl. Just 10/10 all around, hot, stunning, sweet, incredible, precious angel of death boy

•Az is so badly wounded after the rescue mission that Rhys and the others who see him are shocked but he refused to set Elain down (even though she’s not hurt) until Rhys takes her and the first thing he asks is for Helion to come unchain her (not anything for himself). Again just SOOO sweet and caring whether you ship Elriel or not

•Another Elriel moment but well they happen, Az giving her truth teller is just🤧 he’s never lent out this blade to his brothers or anyone else, we know it has some special brand of magic and he likely does too and he offers it to Elain to give her a sense of safety (again even if you don’t ship them it’s just so considerate)

•”Chain me to a tree Rhys, I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back” LIKE TELL ME THAT ISNT HOT

•A super small moment but after the war when the boys are watching the sisters/Mor laughing and Rhys starts crying Az tells him “it’s real” and I just think the intuitive understanding and care behind that is so sweet (especially when Az is so misunderstood by his brothers)

•This sounds more like a hate comment to Rhys/Cassian than pro Az but when Rhys admits he and Cassian used to beat Azriel for hours to get him to speak to them and he never would, I think that’s such crazy determination and resolve and also he’s wayyyyy nicer than me for still putting up with them after that

•HIM REFUSING TO SPY ON LUCIEN. I just love that degree of respect it’s made even better by the fact Rhys asks about Lucien a second time bc he literally assumes Az was joking and Azriel’s just like “nope not doing it” (again people who say he hates Lucien, please)

•Him finding drunk Cassian and Feyre and trying to fix their terrible decorations the just chugging some wine himself😭 he’s so funny AND sweet

•”Sit, I’ll take care of it.” I NEED THIS ENERGY FROM EVERY MAN EVER PLEASE

•Also him telling everyone to wait for Elain because she’s literally the one who cooked and them eating before her would be rude and I just IWJDKWKDN again so hot and polite and it’s not even a romance/flirting thing bc when Elain comes back and she/Cas give him the opportunity to take credit he doesn’t at all?? He just did it because it’s right and proper

•Him insulting Amren to defend Elain (and then blushing when everyone laughs at his joke) he’s precious (and funny af)

•Him dying at Elains gift JMEKXNEKD the IC stresses him fr and he’s waiting for someone to free him

•Him being nice about Mor’s awful gifts even though she’s known him for 500 years and still gets him awful gifts and also exchanges lingerie with Cassian to his (and Nesta’s) face even though she thinks Az is in love with her

•Half compliment to Az half complaint about Cassian, but when there’s mention of all the universe research Rhys does in ACOSF Cassians like “Rhys told him and he instantly forgot” but As is super interested and listens intently and wants to learn more and I just love a boy with hobbies and interests😩

•Small thing but when he first sees Nes in the house of wind in ACOSF he smiles and is so polite and Nesta tells us for like a whole paragraph how beautiful he is and I trust that woman above all

•Also in reference to the above, Nesta chats with Az for like 10 seconds and instantly wants to train with him over Cas because she knows he’d be better to her

•Azriel blushing when Nesta calls him pretty✨ (such a sweet lover boy I swear)

•He laughs at Nesta’s insults to Cassian but holds back from laughing at Cassians✨

•The only one who literally JUST ASKS why Nesta won’t train and also sparks the idea in Cassians obtuse head that it might be because she doesn’t want to train in Illyria (VALID)

•I know people have mixed takes about how the scene is written but him asking Nesta if she was pushed down the stairs feels genuine to me, like he asks the question very pointedly serious and focuses just on Nesta, his vague amusement after is only in regard to Cassians dumb reaction but the fact he asked her and the way in which he does it (ignoring Cassians input and still waiting for Nesta’s answer) shows genuine consideration to her (still a stranger to him for all intents and purposes) over his brother’s feelings

•Him paying such careful attention to Nesta and being the only one who never starts fights with her to such a strong degree that even Nesta feels too seen by him

•Such a basic thing (but it’s not when you look at the quality of other ACOTAR men unfortunately) but when Cassian asks him if he wants kids he says it’s not his decision (like this is why I hate the anti-elriel “elain can’t bare his children” argument, I assure you Az does not gaf)

•”Azriel had never said a bad word about Nesta” and i’m not supposed to stan???

•Also the fact he doesn’t like hand to hand combat bc he doesn’t like getting covered in people’s sweat JEKKDKW I know it’s just a gag Cas jokes about but there’s something so funny and refined about that

•Him being so competitive is hot honestly😩 especially how Cassian describes it as not being in an arrogant or scary way but in a very strategic sort of manner, how he’s often the only one who can compete with Rhys (who was trained for this stuff since birth) like YES

•Az getting flustered and awkwardly walking away when he sees how Nesta is staring at him and Cas KEKKDKE i so highly appreciate his balance between confident and shy boy

•Him and Nesta smiling about Cassians stupidity, being “allies against his insanity,” again, Az just being a friend to her is so sweet (and important given it’s like the one thing Nesta needed in this book)

•Not only does he vote with Cas against keeping things from Nes but when Amren starts saying lewd things about her it’s Azriel (not Cassian bc apparently he could never) who tells her to STFU about Nesta

•Amren tells the boys NOT to touch the sword and Az is legit the only one who tries to listen (the ONLY bat boy with brain cells half the time)

•Just the fact that once he starts training the Priestesses with Cas Nesta notes a bunch of them seem to have crushes on him. Like these girls who have been so traumatized by men they can barely stand to be in public feel that comfortable with him so quickly, he just radiates safe energy

•Also a small moment but him awkwardly smiling the first time he sees Gwyn at training and just trying to act casual to not make her feel weird is so sweet.

•Him dancing with Nesta “as easily as breathing” (again, their friendship means everything to me)

•When Nesta asks him why he came to solstice if seeing Elain/Lucien hurts him and he says “Because Rhys wants me here and it’d hurt him if I didn’t come” like HEJEKNDO he’s so selfless for the people he cares about FR (especially given how Rhys talks to him that same night)

•EVERYTHING about his gift to Nesta. The fact he didn’t have to give her one in the first place (it was no one’s expectation, including hers. on the surface he didn’t even get Elain a gift so it wasn’t just a polite thing). The way the gift is literally SO SWEET AND GENUINELY THOUGHTFUL like he took care not just to get her something but to get her something that would bring her joy and be useful (and is definitely based on his observations about her avoiding the fireplace)

•ALSO when she hugs him the entire room goes silent because they’re just that shocked but he just laughs and hugs her gently and then is blushing after like ANDKEKD

•The entire relationship he forms with Gwyn and how he notes shes competitive and uses that to help inspire her in training and even when he’s teasing her he’s so potently rooting for her too

•Him being nervous about holding baby Nyx with his scarred hands like this precious angel IEKKDKW

Most Offending Thing, His Bonus Chapter (the good and the bad)

•Him scheming about a snowball fight for a whole year is hilarious

•Also him including in his plotting that Cassian would be up all night with Nesta (little did he know his boy only lasts like one round, that and Cassian being so horrified at the thought of Az finding out about him being quick off the mark with Nesta, I just know Az is the stamina king)

•Even his shadows just want him to sleep but your boy is too depressed

•I’m sorry but everything about his and Elains almost kiss is HOT people who think it was overly sexualized or something have missed all the first thoughts we get from like every SJM boy about their LI (ROWAN IN QOS FR) and also the fact that this tension has obviously been brewing for a while??? he’s been avoiding her because it’s that palpable and ELAIN KNOWS IT. it’s a mutual thing it doesnt mean there isn’t romance beneath it or that he’s a creep for wanting her after a year of putting off his feelings

Brief interlude, his offending lines:

•”My two brothers are with two of those sisters but the third was given to another” - the language here might make you uncomfortable but that’s because MATING BONDS ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. we’re told by Rhys himself that they’re often used to “give” a female to a male. the distinction he makes here that Feyre/Nes are “with” Rhys/Cas but Elain was “given” to Lucien is because Elucien is the only mating bond example we’ve followed in this series where the foundation is not love and choice. Azriel does not feel entitled/think he deserves Elain. In this same chapter he feels unworthy to even touch her, stands outside in the freezing cold until he’s “again nothing at all.” Mor tells us all the way back in ACOMAF that he feels completely undeserving of love. Azriel does not think he deserves Elain just because Rhys said so (Az LITERALLY glares at him for saying it). Azriel brought up a valid point (that other characters have too) that the Archeron sisters (who have comparable power) would makes sense all mated to the bat boys (again, comparable power) since we know that’s a crux of mating bonds. Not to mention, Azriel and Elain genuinely just like each other and always have, more so than any of the mated couples even. From a logical standpoint, they would make sense as mates. Even this ships haters say they would be “too predictable/obvious” like SO YOU AGREE THEY MAKE EASY LOGICAL SENSE that’s what Az is implying.

•”Lucien will never be good enough for her” I’ve seen a lot of people use this line to say Az hates/drags Lucien but that’s not how I interpret it at all. First off, all of Az’s other actions (i’ve listed some above) show he’s actually very considerate of/trusting in regards to Lucien. This line to me reads less as “lucien is a bad/undeserving person” and more “Lucien is not what Elain wants” (right after he says she has no interest in him). From Azriel’s POV (and ours my fellow readers) Lucien has done nothing to win over Elain. Yes he’s been polite and I applaud him for that over others actions with their mates (cough cough Cassian) but he’s also never sought her out for a real conversation about the bond, never had any sort of “clicking” moment with her, and still after years just makes her uncomfortable (as far as we and Az know). I think it makes perfect sense to infer from this Lucien is not “good enough” in regards to what Elain is seeking (I think the easiest way I can put this is the idea of “somebody can be perfect but still not perfect for you”). Is Azriel’s opinion a little biased? Yes FS, but also this girl was about to let him do filthy things to her down the hall from Lucien, I say it’s pretty safe for him to infer that she doesn’t want Lucien (and therefor never will).

•”He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to” - I won’t repeat what I said above regarding the sexual undertones in the chapter, but also the reason why Az hadn’t thought beyond this is in the chapter and it’s not because he’s some fuck boy. AZRIEL KNOWS HE CANT HAVE A FUTURE WITH ELAIN AND DOESNT THINK HE DESERVES IT. It’s written all over their interactions together. He wanted to kiss her to have a piece of her to hold onto, not because he thinks he can have a future with her because he knows as things stand he can’t. He doesn’t want to plan to push her/seduce her (like rhys implies) or anything because he doesn’t feel worthy of her and knows circumstances won’t allow them to be together safely. What’s driving him crazy and keeping him up at night with fantasies is that they do both want each other, but imagining a life where they could have more than that and be happy together is impossible for Az because he’s someone who has never prioritized his happiness and does not expect it.

•”I’ll defeat him with little effort.” - Again reading comprehension I beg, this is not a diss against Lucien. If Lucien was the type of guy to invoke a blood duel because Elain chose Azriel (Lucien wouldn’t, Azriel doesn’t even think he would it’s Rhys who suggests it) then YEAH AZ CAN KICK HIS ASS WITH LITTLE EFFORT BC THAT WOULD BE A CRAPPY THING TO DO.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

•I LOVE everything about his scene with Gwyn on the roof. His vague awkwardness, his teasing of her and trying to be polite, him actually trying to help her train (after we learn Cas has been useless, go figure), and just being so sweet and kind to her in general even though he’s probably still incredibly sad/upset🤧

•This precious boy gets a small urge to cross his arms and is thrown into a PTSD flashback of his father with his mom??? He constantly consciously makes effort not to appear scary/threatening to women because he’s that scarred from his fathers behavior😭

•Listen, I won’t try to entirely defend the necklace thing because I do think it’s weird no matter who you ship Azriel with BUT i will say my best take on it is that it’s a version of self harm/sabotage. Like the only thing that makes sense to me here is he’s subconsciously creating barriers in his relationships with both Elain/Gwyn by doing this which is honestly way less f-boy (a weird take i’ve seen from people, especially given at this point he has no plans to pursue either Elain or Gwyn) and just way more very sad.

FINALLY, sprinkles from HOFAS:

•He’s so FINE in this book

•His silly little things like kicking rocks while trailing Nesta and Bryce to make a point are SO funny

•Him and Nesta working so well together, may not be a point in his favor but it makes me happy

•Azriel loving and defending his mom✨

•Azriel barely snapping at Nesta and then immediately apologizing and saying he loves her. THAT is more emotional intelligence than any other male in ACOTAR has shown

•Him liking club music but also being embarrassed about it? Adorable

•Everything about his interactions with Bryce in this book strike me so hard because you can tell he’s trying to keep his guard up but still has a lot of sympathy for her. I think that gets to the core of who Az is: smart and distant and guarded but also genuinely kind above all

•Also so many small funny little jokes and lines

I COULD PROBABLY SAY MORE AND GO ON FOREVER BUT HOPEFULLY PEOPLE GET THE POINT :)