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cherhys · 1 year

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Kiss the Cook(s)

Dad!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You come home after a long day to find a mess in the kitchen, but the joyous laughter and babble coming from that direction make up for it.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, mention of sex (direct/indirect)

Notes: Easing my way back into the writing world with a short and disgustingly sweet (with a little teasing ofc) piece. I can’t just come out swinging after a month of nothing (eek) y’know? I’ve been into spontaneous baking now that I’m home from uni and thus this baby was whipped up. Hope you didn’t miss me too much! xx

You rolled your neck as you stepped into the House of Wind, hoping to loosen the tension you amassed throughout the day. Today had been abysmal on every front—the Autumn Court was rejecting new terms you proposed as advisor of the Night Court, Mor was unsuccessful in Vallahan again, and the stack of papers on your desk seemed to grow taller regardless of how many you reviewed. A dull pain was beginning to throb behind your eyes. A nice, long soak with some lavender bath salts should do the—

A happy squeal punctured through the haze of your never-ending frustration. Had you imagined the sound? After the day you’ve had, hallucinations wouldn’t be so shocking, however, another bubbly gurgle reached your ears. Your smile was nearly immediate. You should’ve noticed the happily glowing light in your chest was particularly bright today. Sugary-smelling goodness flooded your senses like a balm to your fraying nerves.

Your feet can’t carry you to the kitchen fast enough, excitement coursing through your veins. However, upon entering the kitchen, you ground to a halt, failing to process the scene before you. Your eyes don’t know where to look first. The kitchen was an absolute mess. Utensils and bowls covered every surface that wasn’t already splattered with various questionable ingredients. Your eyebrows raised at the– were those mashed potatoes on the counter? Frankly, you couldn’t tell, but the bulk of the mess covered your mate and baby girl.

Your little girl was sitting in her high chair so she could reach the tall counter and was unceremoniously stirring some batter of sorts, though a good chunk of it now splattered the countertop. Miraculously, your daughter looked better than your mate did—various stains of egg, batter, butter and other ingredients cover Cassian. You’re pretty sure those were eggshells in his hair. The two look so happy, making whatever concoction of ingredients they’ve lumped together, so how could you be upset, even if flour had somehow made it to your high ceilings? Neither one had noticed you yet, and you took in the sweet sight as they giggled and played together.

Cassian had put your daughter in her “Kiss the Cook” bib, a twin to his own apron. You dimly wondered if he had a shirt underneath as you couldn’t see any sleeves or collar. Your heart clenched at the sweet gaze he reserved only for your baby girl, his sure hand lifting to rub some batter on her button nose. Cassian bent closer, and your daughter shoved her chubby fist into the batter and smooshed it onto his stubbled jaw. You burst out laughing as he caught her hand in his mouth, and she gave a giddy squeal.

Two sets of wide hazel eyes turned to look at you, first in shock and then with uncontained glee. They let out chorused cheers that only further fuelled your laughter. Their twin grins (you’ve always loved that your daughter got Cassian’s beaming smile, but Cauldron, your genetics were null) somehow get all the brighter.

Your daughter made grabby hands at you, and you couldn’t help but coo and kiss her batter-laden cheeks.

“Hello, my darlings.” You nuzzle into your babe’s supple neck, her hands grabbing listlessly at your clothing.

“And what about my kiss?” Cassian pouted, pointing to his lips. You rolled your eyes at his antics, only for his kiss to render you breathless. His strong arms circled around you, pulling you into his warm embrace—no shirt it was, then. No matter how long you’d been mated, he never ceases to make it special; as if it’s the first kiss all over again. Your shoulders relax, and your heart flutters at the creeping smile you feel growing on Cassian’s face. He deepens the kiss before your daughter’s bubbly gurgles pull you away from one another.

You don’t get far as Cassian’s arms tighten around you reassuringly, his thumb rubbing a comforting pattern into the curve of your hip.

“What are you making?” You rested your head on his chest, the beat of his heart chipping away at your weariness with every steady ba-dump. He kissed your temple, knowing you must be nursing your headache.

“Chocolate chip cookies.” His proud proclamation was met with happy babbles from your babe, as if she were also excited about the cookies she certainly couldn’t eat.

You surveyed the virtually destroyed kitchen once more, “And baking cookies involves making a large enough mess that Nuala and Ceridwen will curse you for the next decade?”

Cassian shook his head in mock despair, the corners of his lips twitching up, “I’m afraid there are always casualties in battle, sweetheart.”

You babe loudly burbled and waved her tiny fist as if in agreement with her father. The babe had yet to speak, and she was already conspiring with her father against you. You sighed and reluctantly pulled yourself from Cassian’s loving embrace, tugging at his apron, “Well then, you could use all the help you can get, right General?”

The tender smile on his face morphed into something devious, his eyes darkening with mischief, “Depends on what you’re offering, sweetheart.”

You swatted at his shoulder, an offended whine leaving his lips at the hit, “Not in front of our daughter. She can hear you.”

He opened his mouth, ready to retort that your babe was preoccupied with further splattering the batter she had her hands on, but you pulled him tightly to you. You leaned onto your tiptoes, turning your head to his ear as you languorously raked your nails down his exposed side, “You’re welcome to find out how much help I can be later, hmm, General?”

He let loose a slow breath at your whispered sultry tone, his warrior training and your daughter being the only things stopping him from taking you on the counter. A slow smile bloomed across your face at the heated flare of arousal he unconsciously sent down the bond. Before he could respond, you coyly pulled away as if nothing had happened. You turned to your daughter, pinching her sweet cheeks, “Let’s finish these cookies, okay? I think all we need is the chocolate chips.”

Grabbing the bowl with what was left of the batter, you yelped as a loud smack came down on your ass.

“Cassian!” You gasped and rubbed at your sore bum, your cheeks burning as you turned to your mate. Cassian simply gave you a meaningful side-long look that promised more of that later, as he bent to open a cabinet, the timbre of his voice impeccably nonchalant, “Just the chocolate chips, right?”

You stared at him a beat longer, your daughter flapping her little wings clumsily in the silence as you absently smoothed over your surely reddening ass. Cassian raised a brow at you in challenge, and you bit your lip with a nod, “Yes, please.”

His faux-serious look melted into the face of a cock-sure male who knew he’d won as he began to root around in the cabinet. You huffed at his low chuckle, sending enough abrasive feelings down the bond to let him know what an insufferable ass he is.

Loud slapping against the counter broke through the heavy tension in the air, your daughter demanding attention with a wobbling pout. You cooed at her antics, grabbing a towelette to gently wipe her chubby cheeks. You suppressed a sigh at the batter dried to her curls, thinking of the bath that had to happen after the cookies were done.

As if reading your mind, Cassian hummed in thought, “I’ll have to give the little bat a good scrubbing.”

“It is your fault.”

He pleadingly put his hands out, “Look at her! Of course I gave her the batter; you can’t say no to those eyes!”

You both turned to look at your babe, her face lighting up with a gummy smile as she cooed, dark lashes framing her doe eyes. You imperceptibly softened, and Cassian gave a boisterous laugh, “That’s my girl.”

He loudly clapped his hands and placed them on his hips, drawing your attention back to his tanned waist and the muscles peaking from behind the apron, “Alright! Let’s get these done so I can take my girls to bed since it's getting late.”

His wolfish grin only spread as he noticed where your gaze was fixed, “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

Cassian deviously winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his persistent ridiculousness, your cheeks pinking at having been caught staring.

Cassian tore open the chocolate chips, and you handed a silicone spatula to your daughter for her to teethe on. You both quickly fell into step with one another, seamlessly weaving to mix the batter, line the pans, and finish the treats. The warm, content feeling in your chest further grew as Cassian talked about his day, your babe’s happy chatter in the background. No amount of weariness from the long day at work could take away from the special moments with your family.

Final Notes: Girl dad Cassian >>>> Ugh, I want him so bad. Hope you like it <3

#cassian x reader #cassian/reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cherhys

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cherhys · 1 year

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Guess who’s FINALLY done their exams?

+ I come back to 200ish of you WOWIE time to get on the writing grind 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

(i <3 u all mwah)

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cherhys · 1 year

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Bat boys. Cass and Az.

#reason number 36749392542730453 why acotar should be an animated show

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cherhys · 1 year

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All I want is for this semester to be OVER so I can live my little grandma lifestyle. I’ll write, read, bake, cook, embroider, and garden my days away (+ work but we’re thinking ✨positively ✨rn)

#cherry is losing it YALL #sleep paralysis demons are starting to look like my profs

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cherhys · 1 year

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Casually re-reading all your comments as I try to find the motivation to finish this semester 😚

#i love you mwah

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cherhys · 1 year

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What I Want Most

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel can’t seem to stay away from you, even after all these years. However, his ill decisions are not without consequences...

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Angst, emotionally constipated Azriel (he works it out tho)

Notes: Congrats to Az for finally getting his debut! And congrats to me for finally finding the time to finish this fic (ie. ignoring my work in favour of writing this)! Alas, I have not died everyone (shocking, considering my radio silence lol whoopsies) so rest assured that more content is on the way <3

The chilling wind rustled the canopy, bringing the smell of cinder and winter. The leaves were sparse but provided ample enough cover in the dead of night. Azriel’s legs ached, the muscles stiff from disuse. He glanced at the moon, her pale face round as a babe. Azriel had lost track of how long he’d been perched in the tree; watching, waiting. However, the pain in his thighs couldn’t compare to the dull throbbing in his chest as his gaze remained fixed on you.

You had barely changed since he had last seen you. Your smile was just as bright as you laughed with your squad, ready to camp for the night. You gestured grandly, arms flailing with theatrics—more of your endless stories that once lulled him to sleep, your gentle voice rising and falling. He wished he could hear what story you were telling tonight. The squad sat around the fire, hanging on your every word. Azriel almost worried that they’d lean in too far, and fall into the scorching flames.

He clenched his hands, the scars pulling along his knuckles. He didn’t spare the wretched things a glance; only kept his eyes on you. You were reaching the climax of your story if the gleam in your eyes was anything to go by. He watched, waiting as you baited your squad in and—you suddenly jumped, arms poised like talons, voice booming across your camp. Most of those listening flinched, others yelped, while some hid behind the safety of their palms.

Azriel closed his eyes as your joyous laugh reached his ears. He shivered; the silky sound slid blissfully down his spine. If he focused enough, he could pretend that your laugh was meant only for him. Azriel had always been the most serious of his brothers, but you never failed to smile with him.

Your head tilted back, baring your supple neck as you laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Azriel couldn’t help but join in your infectious joy, a pleasant warmth spreading through his bones. It wasn’t until his laughter died down that he caught you watching him. A dusky pink blush spread across his cheeks at your unabashed stare.

“What?”

A delicate smile bloomed across your face, “You should do that more often.”

He blinked, dumbfounded at your words.

Your eyes glittered with all the constellations he had missed as a child, “I love it when you laugh. Do it again.”

And so he did. He laughed with you until he had no more air to breathe; until his heart nearly burst from his chest.

He tilted his head back, hard. The pain from the jarring hit against the bark of the tree was enough punishment for letting his thoughts run rampant. He made his decision all those years ago; it was one he would have to live with, no matter how you haunted him. Opening his eyes, Azriel looked to the moon again. The pearly light filtered through the trees, dancing across his face, mocking him. His usual scowl deepened further; even the moon was laughing at him.

It was all too late once he realized the rustling of the leaves had quieted in the wind, that the bugs had stopped their incessant chirping.

“Who are we watching?” The whisper in his ear is enough to turn his blood to ice.

Without a second thought, Azriel whipped around and unsheathed Truth-Teller from the holster on his thigh. But as quick as he was, you were faster—always had been. You had already stepped back and lightly perched on the branch next to his. Close, but just out of range. A slow, mocking grin spread over your face, “Hello, Azriel.”

He stood rigid as the forest around you. Silent as per usual; you rolled your eyes, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Did you like my story?” You tilted your head, flashing him a cheeky smile.

Azriel’s answering response was to grip his knife harder, his knuckles a stark white in the dark. He fought the urge to hide his hands as your gaze dropped to them. Azriel would never be this disgruntled, caught so off guard. He cursed himself for letting you have any effect on him, even after all this time. Your dramatic sigh permeated the silence, as you flopped to sit on the branch.

“No need to be so tense, Azzy. We’re all friends here, right?” The word cut deeper than any knife, the self-satisfied smile on your face knowing you’d struck gold. You swung your legs like a child, assessing him where he stood on guard.

He was a vision of the night; dark shadows coiled around his muscular physique and the great wings behind him. His Illyrian leathers stuck to the contours of his body, the tattoos you once traced peaking above his collar. Dark lashes cast shadows over the elegant panes of his face, his plump lips frowning. Wispy hairs curled before his molten gaze. Azriel was as ethereal as you remembered.

He remained standing despite your invitation. You rolled your eyes; he’s also just as stubborn as you remember. Azriel’s shadows warped around him violently, as if they were desperate to whisk him away from you. Likely, they were.

You nodded your chin towards the whirling darkness, “They always were as cowardly as their master.”

“They are no such thing. Only weary of danger.”

“Oh, and I’m so dangerous to you? Is that why you’ve been spying on me?” You spread your arms wide, “I’m just doing the job I’ve been assigned by my friend Rhys. You know Rhysand, right?”

Azriel scoffed at your ridiculous teasing. How typical of you to taunt and mock him. However, he would be lying if he said he had any good reason for following you tonight. He had overheard his brothers talking about your whereabouts—something they never share with him—and he couldn’t resist coming to see you, despite everything. He rolled his shoulders back, lifting his chin, but the mask on his face wavered and began to crack.

You leaned in closer, eyes as dark as the sky above you, “Listen close Shadowsinger. I don’t care what business you think you have here; if I ever find you near me or my squad again, I’ll give you some new scars to match. Understood?”

His shadows whipped around him anxiously, whispering frantically but Azriel couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t hear anything at all, beyond the echo of your words, some new scars to match. His scarred hands were numb—with cold or shock, he didn’t know. He couldn’t feel anything as the yawning pit gaped where his heart had once been. His face was a mask of cool marble. He vaguely processed your face falling, something like remorse flitting across your features.

“Azriel, I–”

The whispers of his shadows finally reached him, cutting through the buzz in his ears.

Danger.

His head snapped up to look at you, “Quiet.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his hiss, ready to interject—except the chatter from the camp was missing. Where there was once fire blazing among the eerily still tents, ashes now lead to a trail of smoke disappearing into the night.

You swallowed past the lump that is your heart in your throat. Your squad. Your hand clenched tightly on the hilt of your sword as you scanned the stygian darkness of the woods. The scraggly branches of the trees leered, reaching for you—and there, a glint of metal shining back at you.

You can only look at Azriel before you’re ambushed. Shadow figures emerged from the darkness, swarming you and Azriel from all sides. Jumping to your feet, you unsheathed the sword at your back in time to meet the blow of one of the mysterious fae.

Glancing around, you counted the figures. Four of them, all masked. You glared into the gaping eye-holes of the mask, the abyss within them shrouding the gaze of your attacker. Fresh blood splattered the expanse of the macabre mask. Blazing fury ignited in your stomach, your vision red. With little reservation, you parried the blow and slashed up and through the figure. Their body stiffened, a gush of blood spilling from under the mask. You were moving to the next attacker before the figure’s limp body hit the forest floor. The clash of metal rang empty in your ears as your rage guided your violent dance, the attackers your unlucky partners.

Your squad, your squad.

The second figure put the first to shame, their blank mask entirely slathered in scarlet.

Your squad, your squad, your squad.

Your sword plunged through the supple cleft of their throat, severing flesh and cartilage and bone and–

Your squad, your squad, your squad, your squad.

A grunt of pain broke through your rage-fuelled frenzy. Your head snapped to where Azriel battled two of the masked figures, precariously balancing on the branches. He deftly handled Truth-teller, blocking and parrying their blows. However, the two masked figures fought in tandem as if one person. Their synchronization pushed Azriel to the back foot, his upper arm already sporting a light gash.

Silver glistened in the corner of your eye. Turning, a fifth masked figure was poised high in the canopy, bow strung and pointed at Azriel.

Azriel.

The arrow flashed through the air, heading directly for the nape of Azriel’s delicate neck.

Azriel.

He turned towards the archer, eyes wide. The two masked figures pressed forward, unrelenting. With a speed unbeknownst to you, you moved towards the projectile, sword already swinging. The arrow shaft severed in two, however, the metal point found its way into your shoulder. Hissing, you ripped the arrowhead out, the wound not nearly as deep as it would have been.

Before the archer could string their bow again, you whipped your short sword through the air, the blade careening violently before embedding in their masked head. Choking, their body fell from the canopy with a sickening crunch.

Paying the two broken bodies no mind, you turned to the only male that mattered. Azriel had disposed of one of the figures in the flurry with the archer, but the second figure remained strong. Unsheathing the dagger at your thigh, you aimed for the spinal column. Your weapon found its mark, the masked attacker stilling long enough for Azriel to effortlessly slit their throat.

You both panted heavily, your leathers slick with sweat. Azriel’s golden eyes locked on yours in the faint moonlight. His molten gaze was the last thing you saw before you wobbled on your branch, and the world went dark.

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

Azriel just barely caught you in time, his body moving on instinct. He cradled you close to his chest, your breath much too shallow for his liking. He rushed past the corpses that littered the forest floor, making his way to where your squad had set up camp. The copper smell that lingered heavily over each tent confirmed his earlier suspicions. Shaking his head, Azriel put your slaughtered comrades to the background of his mind and entered the largest of the tents.

Upon entering your tent, you finally let out a weak groan. Azriel’s sigh of relief escaped him before he could reign it in, clutching you closer to his chest. Placing you on the prepared bedroll, he frantically searched your body for any injury. Azriel’s scowl deepened as he found the small wound on your shoulder, but it made no sense. The scent of your blood was much too faint for you to be so delirious—your leathers should be soaked by now.

“Poison.” The word was a struggle to get out as you fight to remain conscious.

“Fuck.” He ran his shaking hands through his hair. Of course, it would be poison. He frantically rooted through your bags, ripping open supply boxes, crates, and anything he could get his hands on to try and help you. Azriel gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to dig his nails into his palms if only to distract from the gnawing guilt in his chest. That poisoned arrow had been meant for him. If he couldn’t find some sort of antidote…

The slamming of the boxes increased tenfold.

“Amanita.”

He turned at your croak, “What?”

You paused, licking your lips as Azriel rushed over, cool hands cupping your cheeks. You could sigh at the feeling, eyes fluttering. He bit his lip, trying to catch your eye.

“What is it, pretty girl? Tell me.”

You drowsily opened your eyes, “Montesere typically uses the Amanita poison. It’s not uncommon in their military. It’s our best,” You stopped to catch your breath, Azriel’s grip tightening slightly, “Shot.”

“Amanita, yes, of course,” He cursed himself for being so panicked, and couldn’t help but lean down to kiss your forehead, “My brilliant girl.”

Your breath shook due to more than just the force of the poison coursing through your system as Azriel went back to searching through your supplies.

“There should be some pills in that box that will work. Crush them and give them to me with some water.”

He nodded absentmindedly, already reaching for the box. He recovered a mortar and pestle from a different crate, quickly grinding the pills down.

“Why did you leave me?”

The question made Azriel’s blood run dry, his hand pausing its mechanical movement. Briefly shutting his eyes, he returned to work.

“I don’t think this is a good time for this.”

“I can’t think of a better time since now you can’t run off like you usually do.” Your icy remark found its target, his breath spiking sharply. Good, let him hurt for once. You swallowed past your sandpaper throat, your voice shaking despite the effort, “Why did you leave me Azriel?”

The grinding of the pestle was the only sound in the tent, your eyes welling with angry tears. His persistent silence brought back memories of old arguments, where your words uselessly bounced off of his stone-cold walls over and over again. His sigh felt almost patronizing as if this was a conversation that had long run its course.

“Listen—”

“I would have fought for you, for us.” You refused to let your voice shake again, steeling yourself as best you could with the haze of the potion clouding your mind, “Once, at least. Now, I’m not so sure.”

The heavy mortar slammed against the wooden table. Azriel’s muscled back was stiff as a board, his wings tucked in close.

“It’s better this way.” His cool voice only further stoked the flame of your incredulity.

“‘Better’? Better for who? For you?” You broke off in a cough, vision blurring, “Are you so committed to your eternal misery that you can’t put it aside for me?” Azriel glanced over his shoulder as your breath caught on that last word, his face an unbearable mask of indifference.

You turned your head away from him, unable to look at his marble features. Biting your lip, you suppressed the unshed tears lining your eyes. He didn’t deserve your tears.

“Someone… someone like me, has no business being with someone like you. I have done unforgivable, unspeakable things.” Azriel’s quiet voice reached you through your growing headache. His words only further broke your heart. Your gaze stayed fixed on the opposite side of the tent as you heard him approach.

“There is no repentance I can undertake that will ever absolve me. So no matter how–” His voice broke off, and you swallowed thickly, “No matter how my heart may ache for you, I cannot risk tainting another life. And certainly not someone as radiant as you. I allowed myself the time we had, and I will cherish it until the end of my days. But that is the limit of my selfishness.”

Your shoulders heaved with the force of your silent sobs. You snapped your head to him, the force of it rendering you dizzy. He kneeled before you—the antidote in hand—eyes glazed over, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“And what about what my heart aches for? My selfishness?” Azriel’s eyes slowly lifted to yours, something unreadable swirling in their hazel depths, “I have killed and tortured just as you have; I am not without my own sins, but you still call me radiant. Then, can’t I believe that you are kind, good, and worthy of my love?”

His head shook with each word, a pained look stretching across his features, “You need your antidote; you’re beginning to be delusional.”

Azriel brought the cup to your lips, but you gripped his wrist with surprising strength. You search his face, pleading, “I’m not delusional, I only speak from the heart. I will not drink the antidote until you admit this.”

His chest heaved, with anger or something else, you don’t know. He pushed against your hand, forcing the cup against your tightly shut lips, but your grip on his hand remained firm. Finally, his face crumpled and he lowered his head, his dark hair obscuring the view of his face.

“I can’t. You deserve safety, stability and everything else that I cannot offer you.” Your grip further tightened on his hand.

“What I deserve is someone who loves me. You and I will walk hand in hand with danger for the rest of our lives; it is the nature of our jobs. That does not mean I must deprive myself of what I want most in this world.”

Azriel’s head snapped up, disbelief stark across his elegant features. Your gaze was steady, and something settled in your chest with the admission. You'd never breathed so easily despite the poison coursing through your veins. His dark hair was ruffled from running his hands through it, the strands curling at his forehead. His plump lips parted in awe, a silvery sheen coating his eyes. Your Azriel.

“You… want me that much?”

You brought his hand to your cheek, and flashed him a watery smile through the haze of the poison, “More than anything.”

A tender beat of silence passed between you both before black spots began to dance across your vision.

“My beautiful Azriel.” Your grip loosened on his hand before the darkness claimed you once again.

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

You woke to a warm body beside you, a larger, more scarred hand clutching yours lightly. Your lashes fluttered as you vaguely pieced together what happened. Once you lost consciousness, you were in and out in brief increments; Azriel forcing the antidote down your throat, Azriel stroking your hair, Azriel kissing your forehead.

Your chest warmed as you took in the membranous wing that stretched over your body, shielding you from the outside world. Turning slightly, you were met with Azriel’s sleeping form. His usually scowling face was one of unperturbed peace. Long, dark lashes lay on high, sculpted cheeks. Leaning over, you placed a feather-light kiss on each eyelid, only to pull away and meet his honeyed gaze. A smile bloomed across your face as a dusting of pink spread across his tan cheeks and ears. Azriel brought your joined hands to his pink lips and placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

Your smile dimmed as you took in his scarred hands, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

He knew what you were referring to, and only shook his head and kissed your hand again, “It’s okay, sweet girl.”

You untangled your joined fingers much to his chagrin, only to grasp both of his hands in your own, “It is not okay. I was angry, but I had no right to say that.”

Azriel opened his mouth to protest, but promptly closed it as you vigorously kissed his hands. Each knuckle of each finger, his palm, his fingertips—you didn’t miss a single surface on his tan skin. He watched with bated breath, eyes intently following the loving path you covered. You finished with a big kiss to each palm, unfurling his long fingers to rest his hands on your cheeks.

“I will love you even when you don’t love yourself Azriel Shadowsinger.”

He looked at you with all the adoration of Night gazing at his beloved Stars, and kissed you reverently, “My selfish girl.”

Final Notes: Amanita is actually the genus of the (very deadly and toxic) death cap mushroom (Amanita phalloides to be specific)! Plz, don’t eat weird mushrooms. Anyway, hope you all liked it and lmk what you think! ♡

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cherhys

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cherhys · 1 year

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Springtime Revelations

Cassian x Reader

Summary: You and Cassian have been friends for as long as you can remember. But when strangers point out all of the things you seem to have missed, new feelings are discovered…

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Two idiots realizing that the other idiot is kind of sexy, mild swearing

Notes: Look who’s back in town! So sorry I’ve been gone, I had a weekend from Hell™️ and then I was sick on Monday (amazing, really). So have this while I get back to my various unfinished fics. Oh, and—remember that one part in the book when Cassian is eating a muffin? Yeah. That.

The bell jingled as you left the store, clutching your newly filled basket. You lifted the gingham fabric to peek at the fruits you had traded for. Inside, succulent berries, juicy peaches, and crisp apples stared back at you in delicious goodness—you were excited to share them with your friends. Maybe you could even bring some up to the House for Cassian to try—

Frantic murmurs caught your attention, and you turned to a group of village girls whispering conspiratorially. It was a surprisingly beautiful day in the Illyrian mountains, the delicate touch of spring emerging. Many villagers milled about, hoping to bathe in the warm sunbeams and delight in the refreshing breeze. The young girls before you were no different, though something must have diverted their attention from enjoying the outdoors to ardent gossiping.

You saddled up to the females and leaned in, “What are we raving about today, ladies?”

With a cohesive yelp, the females turned to you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You glanced between them, “Something raunchy, I presume?”

The dusting of pink on their cheeks worsened, and you chuckled—you hit the nail on the head.

Most diverted their gaze, but the youngest girl turned bright eyes on you and wiggled her brows, “Take a look for yourself.”

Her eager grin had you raising your eyebrows. What could possibly have these ladies clutching their skirts like some bashful maidens? Turning to where the girl was discreetly pointing her finger, it all became crystal clear.

Sleek sweaty skin glistened under the sun, notable muscles shifting with every precise movement. Broad shoulders heaved with heavy breaths, whirling tattoos adorning much of his powerful chest.

You breathed a knowing sound, “Ah, yes, Cassian is visiting.”

The females around you sighed dreamily, and you glanced between them, holding in the laughter threatening to erupt again. The young girl from before leaned on the railing of the shop’s veranda, resting her chin on both palms, “Isn’t he dreamy? I mean, look at him with all the males.”

You glanced at the training Illyrians; Cassian paced back and forth between the rows of males who were currently following whatever instructions he shouted out. Evidently, the legion was feeling the heat as much as anyone else—not a single shirt was in sight, and the females around you weren’t hesitant to gorge themselves on the eye candy.

The young girl continued, “He’s so strong, you know? I bet he could toss me around like a rag doll.”

You looked at her sideways, mildly concerned. A rag doll? The others joined in earnestly;

“Ugh, his jawline? It’s as sharp as the sword on his back! I wonder what his sword—”

“Forget the jawline, I’m looking at his ass. I can’t tell if I’m jealous or—”

“And his arms? He could carry me to Spring and back—”

This time you couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, hysterically clutching at your stomach. Were they serious? Calming yourself, you wiped the few stray tears that had escaped, “You all know he can hear you, right? The male has freakish hearing. We're more than close enough to him.”

They all snapped their heads to you, eyes nearly bulging out of their head. The young girl scoffed and waved a hand to dismiss your claim, “I highly doubt that.”

You repeated the girl’s words to her, “Take a look for yourself.”

The females slowly turned, hesitant. Cassian was already staring at your little group, a wicked grin on his face. The females gasped and put their hands over their mouths—all Cassian did was wink. With a squeal, they all dispersed; some ran into the store, others hustled off home, and a few dropped to hide behind the veranda's railings. Looking at Cassian, his grin widened impossibly further at the roll of your eyes. He gave you a little eyebrow wiggle, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Satisfied, he turned back to the males with a smile.

Cocky fucking bastard.

Shaking your head, you stepped off the veranda but the group’s words sluiced through your thoughts. Most of it was ridiculous but…

Your eyes wandered back to Cassian of their own volition.

He was powerful—you’ve seen Cass heft ridiculous weight with ease. However, his strength went beyond the physical sense; even after a long day at the camps, where you’re sure their respect is lacking, he’d be there with a smile. The fawning over his physique was well-deserved. It would be no stretch to compare his figure to the war gods of old. He was a walking Adonis with rippling muscles honed to perfection through sheer will. But nothing compared to his wind-hewn features, rugged and severe. They were at odds with his blinding grin and his gentle hazel eyes.

You blinked as if you’d never seen the male before.

You and Cassian had been close friends for years now. He never failed to make you laugh and had been your shoulder to cry on countless times in the past. Of course, you had flirted, but it was all harmless fun. Through all of that, you had never looked to Cassian for anything beyond your precious friendship.

Your cheeks reddened as you followed his figure, his Illyrian leather pants clinging to his shapely legs. He does have a nice ass—

The jingle of the shop’s bell snapped you from your dangerous train of thought. This is ridiculous. Cassian is your closest friend, who graciously introduced you to his family, which you now call your own. Setting your shoulders and exhaling slowly, you expelled any obscene thoughts about your friend that may have polluted your mind.

Your lingering in front of the shop isn’t lost on Cassian. In fact, he’d been keenly aware of your presence since you first joined the ladies outside, his very skin tingling with your stare. However, he hadn’t been the only one to notice you.

Cassian’s eye twitched at the murmurs of the males around him. His irritation at their inattentiveness quickly turned to confusion at the delicate sighs his soldiers were exhaling. More than a few had their gazes locked on you; a bottom lip tucked between teeth here, pink tongue swiping there, and many wistful pouts. A scowl darkened his face, irritation doubled—who were these assholes to stare at you?

He grumbled to himself—ready to bark at the group to get their shit together—when a statement from his lieutenant snapped him from his incensed thoughts.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at the male before him, the lieutenant shrinking in on himself, “What did you just say?”

The lieutenant nervously swallowed, hands clasped tightly behind his rigid back, “I said you are a blessed male… sir.”

Cassian stalked to the male, who looked up to the heavens as if they’d save him from his General’s wrath. The lieutenant was nose-to-chest with him, the male’s head staring forward into a sure block of muscle.

“And why would I be so lucky, lieutenant?”

The male licked at his chapped lips, his eyes unconsciously searching for you, “Due to your relationship with—”

“My friendship with her is of no concern to the likes of you, lieutenant.” Cassian spat the words like a curse, infuriated for reasons beyond him.

Despite the venom in his tone, Cassian was surprised when the lieutenant’s eyes flickered up to his, with… was that hope? Before Cassian’s incredulity could begin to form on his features, the suddenly giddy lieutenant swooped in, “‘Friendship’? You’re not together?”

All Cassian could do was blink. A blinding grin spread over the lieutenant’s face, putting Cassian ill at ease.

“That’s amazing, sir! She’s the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen—I’ll be sure to use this chance.” With a peppy salute, the lieutenant walked away from where Cassian stood, dumbfounded at what had just happened. What had just happened? His heart beat rapidly as he watched the lieutenant return to his exercises.

His mouth suddenly dry, Cassian turned to where you had been before the store. Now you were approaching the Illyrian legion, desperately clutching your sun hat. He can’t help but watch with bated breath as the wind billows your maxi dress, a large basket clenched in your hands. Your smile is the sun cresting over the morning mountains, a grin slowly blooming like the first blossoms of spring. His lieutenant’s words echoed through his head, overwhelming and overwriting any other thoughts—the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen.

You finally join him, his glistening tan skin on display and—how have you never noticed just how far you had to crane your head to look at him? A beat of silence passes, your gaze locked on Cassian’s honey-hazel eyes. Something shifted in your chest, pressing uncomfortably against your ribs.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Cassian effortlessly fell back into your usual routine, his signature grin stretching across his face. The nickname is not unusual; it's always either sweetheart, doll, or whatever endearment he feels inclined to use. It's normal. Even so, the timber of his voice coated your skin like sweet honey.

“Hello, hello. How is training going?” You shifted the basket to your other hand, trying not to fidget overtly as you flashed him a smile.

He shrugged, moving to block your view of the males who were now looking over, “Same old bastards as every time I’m here.” His leather and sweat scent pleasingly swept over your senses.

You hummed, coyly turning your head, “Well, if only you would take me up on my offer to start my training; maybe it wouldn’t be just old grumps?”

Looking at Cassian through your thick lashes, his smile became near feral as he leaned in, “You wouldn’t last a day.”

Indignant, you widened your eyes, “Try me.”

You both stared intensely at one another, neither willing to budge an inch. Your breaths mingled in the shared space, the air lightly stirring your hair. Cassian's eyes narrowed at you in silent challenge.

Suddenly, you both burst out laughing, your heads throwing back with raucous mirth. His eyes gleamed with unbridled joy as he took in your exaltation.

You winked, eyes sparkling, "I'm just kidding. I'm happy to watch from afar."

"I'm sure you and the other ladies were delighted. Ecstatic, even." He puffed up with mock male pride, and you giggled semi-nervously. If only he knew.

He looked at your hand, unconsciously rubbing at your heaving chest. His gaze followed up; to the sweep of your collarbones, the delicate curve of your throat, to your parted pink lips.

Clearing his throat, Cassian levelled a more serious look at you, his thick arms crossed, “I do think you should join the ladies back at the House. You never know when your training could be of use.”

You waved a hand, dismissing his overly protective male concerns, “I know basic self-defence. Plus, that’s what I have you for, right?”

You lightly punched his shoulder, the solid muscle barely budging. Instead, with lightning speed, Cassian grabbed your fist and pulled you to his person. You stopped a hair's breadth away from him, an odd feeling fluttering in your chest.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m yours however you like.” His wolfish grin looked ready to devour you whole. Cassian’s molten gaze swept over you, a foreign feeling rearing its ugly head at his heated scrutiny. You stared at him, unimpressed with his teasing today. Today was just—it was not the time for needless flirting.

With a noise of disgust, you swatted at his face, only to yelp as he gnashed his teeth at your fingers. You clutched your hand close to your chest, a mildly disgruntled look on your face, “Brute.”

Cassian winked, but a strange unease spread through him at the unintended intensity behind his statement. He rolled his shoulders; he’d have to find Azriel later for a good spar.

You rummaged through your basket, desperate to cut through the oddly charged tension between you both. Your fingers finally wrapped around what you needed, and you pulled out a small crate, brandishing it to Cassian, “Ta-da!”

“Strawberries? This time of year?” His eyebrows shot to his hairline, fingers reaching for the succulent rubied fruit.

You snatched the small crate back to yourself, “Ah-ah,” You held up a finger in warning, “Only one. I’m saving them for dinner at the House.”

Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically but acquiesced, “Yeah, whatever. I’m sure prissy Rhys and whiny Az can go without some strawberries.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Then brutish Cass can also go without the delicious, imported-from-Summer delicacy.”

At this, Cassian pouted and batted his dark lashes, “Please, sweetheart?”

The pleading rolled off of his tongue and down your spine. You shoved the crate back towards him, your face red as the heart-shaped fruit. Why did the Cauldron bless him with lashes that long, and why are you only now noticing? You ached for the discomfort of the day to pass.

However, this was not to be. Cassian wrapped his plump lips around the berry, his gaze never leaving yours. You followed the swipe of his pink tongue along his lower lip. Your mind blanked, instinct dominating rational thought. Blinking the scene away, you quickly grabbed your own strawberry to taste. The berry’s aromatic flavour spread over your palette, and you moaned lightly in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”

You looked at him through your lashes, a smirk gracing Cassian’s face. His head tilted, his bright gaze flitting between your mouth and your challenging stare.

“Delicious indeed, sweetheart.”

The intensity of his stare overwhelmed you. This is your best friend, whispered a traitorous voice in your head. The reminder was a bucket of cold water. Stepping back, you lightly smiled; you doubted it reached your eyes. Cassian, attentive as ever, composed himself and attempted to steady the rapid beating of his heart. He cursed himself for letting these enigmatic feelings unsettle you.

“I should let you get back to your training. I’m sure the others are getting antsy waiting.”

He gave you a cursory nod, mustering up whatever playfulness he hadn’t yet quashed, “I’ll see you tonight at dinner?”

Cassian’s light tone was a balm to your nerves; it made it easy to pretend there was a semblance of normalcy left between you both.

“Of course, Cass. I’ll see you later,” You turned to leave but waved a final farewell to the group of males, “Good luck, boys!”

Cassian could feel the bastards perking up like flowers tasting water after a drought. The group watched as your form shrank in the distance, Cassian’s jaw clenched tightly. The low whistle of one of the trainees was enough for him. Vein throbbing in his temple, Cassian didn’t so much as turn around to bark, “That’ll be two laps around camp.”

The order reverberated through the group and was received with various groans of protest. At this, Cassian finally turned, “You’re right—that is too little. Make it four. Or should I triple it?”

The males stand rigid, afraid to move a muscle lest they incur more of their Commander’s wrath.

“Go!” The firm shout spurred the group into action, nearly tripping themselves to sprint away from the seething male.

As Cassian watched the males and you finally reached your home, both of you couldn’t help but feel as if something had irrevocably changed.

Final notes: I love Cass so much. Hope you liked it <3

#cassian x reader #cassian/reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cherhys

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cherhys · 1 year

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OMG, THERE ARE 107 OF YOU ALREADY?

Know that there is a place in my heart for each and every one of you 🫶🏼

There will be much more content soon since I have my last midterm tmrw (finally ffs), and then it's smooth sailing...

What do some of you want to see? 👀

(not a guarantee, esp since i have so much other stuff in the works but i always love to hear from you guys)

MWAH X

#my precious #my cuties #i love you

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cherhys · 1 year

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IN CASE YALL MISSED IT….

#AHHHH #only two years later but whatever #this is my avengers endgame

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cherhys · 1 year

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current dilemma (studying for my upcoming midterm is not an option 🫶🏼)

#help I want to write this one idea out SO BAD #but also I’ve been reading chain of thorns for a month which is pathetic #yes im a Cassandra Clare girlie leave me alone

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cherhys · 1 year

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fb marketplace has to be the most addictive thing ever. so many good books for cheap and in near-perfect condition 😼💫

#irresponsible spending?#maybe #dc tho HAHAA

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cherhys · 1 year

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😚😚😚

At The Eleventh Hour

Cassian x Reader

Summary: You’ve brought war to Prythian’s shores and find yourself battling the Lord of Bloodshed—almost as if by fate.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Descriptions of war, canon-typical violence, angst

Notes: This is nice and short but it was an absolute blast to write. I can't always give you lovey-dovey content, can I? I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. ♡

The stench of rotting corpses assaulted your senses. Dead left beneath the summer sun now polluted the air with their putrid stink, their bodies bloated and discoloured. The odour was only bearable due to the wretched chaos surrounding you.

The wails of dying soldiers and the whines of wounded horses chorused in the madness around you. Swords flashed in the late afternoon, cutting down warriors like wheat stalks. Friend could not be discerned from foe, blood and viscera coating any distinct elements on your person.

The muddied ground flung up around your feet as you ran from enemy to enemy, slashing and stabbing through their pliant flesh. You were a beast to be reckoned with. You blazed through the enemy's careful formation, forcing them on the back foot. Your leathers chafed uncomfortably, foreign blood already having dried and begun to flake. Up above, winged fae flew overhead, the unfortunate few falling from grace with a well-placed arrow. Flashes of loosed power in various jewel tones illuminated the darkening battlefield.

The war had persisted for over a year now. After negotiations fell through with the High Lords of Prythian, countries from the Eastern Continent joined forces to commence a full-scale conquest. As the highest-ranking Commander in your nation, you had invaded, pillaged, and killed your way along the coast of Prythian. Despite the Continent’s projections of an easy victory, the High Lords had aptly prepared; the war had been at a standstill since the Continent’s initial win over Prythian’s coastal defences.

Likely, this was due to the work of the Night Court—their fae currently raging around you, some bursting bellies open while others lie prone in the mud. This court was by far the most skilled; their army consisted of talented cavalry and infantry soldiers, wicked Illyrians, and powerful Darkbringers—they were well equipped, that you would admit. However, it was their leadership that set them apart from the rest.

You scanned the battlefield, but three Illyrians landed before you, stopping your rampage through their offensive line. You tilted your head as you inspected the males surrounding you, one on each side and the third before you. Each male had one or two Siphons—not who you were searching for, then.

Tsking, you slowly spread your arms and dropped your sword. Without hesitation, the three hulking males swooped in. Except, you whipped needle-like daggers out from your vambraces directly into the supple necks of the two males bracketing you. As they fell, gurgling in their blood, the third stared in a beat of confusion. The Illyrian blinked to sober himself, but with a resounding crack, you snapped his head to an odd angle.

You stepped over the body of the broken-necked male, picking up his sword along the way. A copper tang coated your mouth, and you grimaced. You wiped at your blood-splattered face, succeeding in only smearing it further. Out of the corner of your eye, an archer drew his bow and fired at you. With easy sweeps of your sword, you cut the arrow shafts midair, ashwood falling uselessly to the ground. You reached to throw a dagger between his brows–

A sudden boom shook the earth beneath your feet. It seems the aerial fleets were no longer airborne. The main legion had landed before you, the rest resisting the pincer formation you had contrived. Someone from above must have assessed the odd placement of your soldiers and noted the lines moving to surround the Prythian warriors. You couldn’t help but grin—these were worthy opponents, befitting your regard.

A wet drop to your face had you looking up to the sky. The dark clouds that had formed earlier finally opened up, and heavy sheets of rain began to pour. The downpour quickly soaked you to the bone, the thick spray obscuring your vision.

It was only thanks to those glowing red Siphons that you managed to lift your sword in time. Thunder crashed as his sword met yours, the impact reverberating up your arms and down your spine. Your smile from earlier returned; the joyous turn to your mouth was at odds with the blazing look on the face of the famed Lord of Bloodshed that had caused you so much trouble.

Cassian, Commander General of the Night Court’s forces, pulled his sword back only to strike with what felt like double his previous strength. You traded a few jarring blows before you jumped away. Warily you both circled each other, predators assessing their prey.

The male you had been searching for cut an imposing figure indeed. He was larger than the reconnaissance made him out to be—thick, corded muscles were visible through the contours of his leathers, a sinister helmet adorning his head. Seven crimson Siphons glowed eerily in the rainstorm, casting his figure in a menacing light. Massive membranous wings sprouted from his strong back; he was utterly monstrous to behold. Although it was the feral look in his molten eyes that had you clenching your sword tighter.

You continued to stalk around, the other soldiers instinctually giving you a wide berth as you let your powers bubble to the surface. The ground rumbled with his matching display, a scarlet haze growing around him. Your power soon cocooned you, blazing across your features. The rain around you began to steam and sizzle, evaporating at the heat radiating from you both.

A resounding boom split the sky, and your swords met once again.

The General, despite his size, was quick on his feet. You danced around one another in the mud, your weapons arcing around each other. He was aggressive in his fighting style; powerful jabs and thrusts were thrown your way, and it was all you could do to step out of his reach. However, your swift, lithe movements proved a problem for him—he couldn't land a single hit as your traded blows.

Nevertheless, you had never experienced a fight quite like this. Neither of you could seize the upper hand, finding yourselves to be of equal mastery. While the ceaseless killing that war demanded had taken its toll on you, your heart beat with elation at the current battle. Soon, you found a wicked grin stretching across your face. The General was sublime; a part of you hoped this fight would never end if only to remain in this bubble with him forever.

Warriors from each side stopped to gaze in awe at the masterclass before them. You were locked in a violent dance, all semblance of the combat around you forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the rapid swing of your blades, your twin heaving breaths, and the clang of steel on steel. Ecstasy flowed through your veins; you wanted to devour him whole. His scorching gaze betrayed his identical thoughts.

Finally, the General closed in, hoping to overwhelm you with sheer strength. Using his forward momentum, you briskly slipped under his extended sword arm. With all your weight behind you, you slammed your fist into the divot beneath his sternum. His breath wooshed out of him, but a giddy thrum shot through you as he remained upright. That hit would have felled more males than not. Incredible.

The opening he gave you was a fraction of a second too long; you whirled, spinning behind him to cut at the tendons of his knees. Even winded, the General foresaw your movements and stepped away. However, he was too slow–the tip of your sword nicking him just enough to force him to his knees.

You rounded his kneeling figure, kicking his sword away. The frigid rain cooled your heated skin, your leathers slick with rainwater and sweat. You gazed at the impressive male before you, astounded beyond words. Despite his loss, his stare was steady and unfazed. You took a moment to look over his strong—and admittedly handsome—features, committing to memory the face of the most talented warrior you had ever confronted. To be so skilled—there is a profound sense of respect you had for the male before you.

As befitting of that respect, you would grant him a clean death.

You prepare the final blow, lifting your sword high overhead—and that’s when it snaps.

The bond is there between you both. It shined bright but was tainted by the blood each of you had spilled. Your heart raced, and your hands shook; this couldn't be possible.

In your shared shock, Cassian gaped up at you, disbelieving the insistent tug in his chest. Your blade was still raised, now hesitant to fall. But Cassian could not afford to die today, and certainly not at the hands of his supposed mate.

He slashed out with a dagger he recovered from within his boot, swiping you along the abdomen. You roared in furious pain and blindly brought your blade down, your sword catching flesh. The blade cut a deep gash along his cheek down to his jaw; had he not backed away in time, you would’ve chopped his head off cleanly.

Adrenaline coursed rapidly through your system, and you pressed a hand to the numb cut on your torso. Cassian hesitated, dagger in hand, but instead, you watched your mate scramble away, retreating behind enemy lines.

His pained hazel eyes are the last thing you recall before you fall into the mud.

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

You awake in delirium, the thrumming string in your chest vastly more intolerable than the wound on your abdomen. After the battle—once you both received a healer's attention—you confronted your first gift to each other: permanent battle scars.

The next fight was no longer for the Continent or your legion. It was for you to face your traitorous mate once again. This time—this time, you wouldn’t hesitate.

Final Notes: WHEW LOL I told y'all

#aww thank you #you guys are my dopamine fix fr #cutie critics

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