Nesta Looks Him Up And Down As He Approaches, Just Once, As If Her Interest In His Form Is Only Casual.

nesta looks him up and down as he approaches, just once, as if her interest in his form is only casual. it is compared to the way she's swept up by the sound of his laughter; it calls to her like a song from her childhood — one that she'll never tire of hearing. less torture. she wonders about that for a moment... what it would look like, if it's something he'd ever want, if he let himself. but curiosity evaporates once he's in her orbit again. instinctively she takes another step closer, turning just a fraction to glance at the dress he's picked. of course with his attention to detail he has an eye for fashion. although she's never worn the dress, she can already envision how it will look; the way it will embellish every curve and contour, the deep plunge of the neckline. 

"i don't recall saying anything about ripping. in fact i was thinking of something more methodical… RITUALISTIC, even.” the words are laced with a smirk, one meant to hide the thrill she finds in being given a list of what he likes about her... that her sharp tongue ranks among them. it would be enough to bring her to tears on a bad day - but it’s decidedly good. the sound of azriel's laughter still echoes in her ears, laced with his compliments. they reverberate through her like an orchestra. she wants to say to hell with whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing in the hewn city in just a few short hours (wanted to say to hell with it regardless) but she resists. runs her fingers along midnight silk thoughtfully.

“i don’t care if we ruin every last one of them.” there was a time when she would have. it wasn’t so long ago that would daydream about the jewels she’d one day adorn herself with. the things she cares about now are infinitely more important, and occupy her thoughts in far more interesting ways. “— but if you like this one so much perhaps we should be more careful. hike it up instead of tearing it off... or keep the remnants for other uses.” 

he watches her fingers still on the dress, its emerald color sparkling in the light of day from the window. he can feel her mood even with her back turned to him. the fact he delighted her brings a smirk to his beautiful face. when she glances back, he catches her gaze and holds it. his head tilts in a predatory manner. the whole look is thrown to the wind when she speaks. laughter, true laughter, erupts from him as he throws his head back. " no, i don't believe so. i think i would have to resort to less torture if that were an option. " less torture, less blood. azriel slides from the bed, unashamed in his nudity before her. he casually walks to her, reaching past her to move a few of the dresses. " if i'm to rip you from the dress, choose one that you don't care to ruin. " he speaks to her standing below him, and pulls out a dress of midnight blue, low cut. azriel admires the fabric and craftsmanship. such a pity if he tears the seams. " i do not wish to objectify you, because it is your mind, wit, and sharp tongue that fuels my desire for you, nesta, but this one... "

the feel of azriel’s shadows on her back draws a soft gasp from nesta’s lips. although she has always been curious about them, she has never looked at them for long. only in passing when his back had been turned to her. it was one of the few things she thought may offend him – she never imagined she’d one day feel them on her skin. she didn’t know they could reach out and touch. the sensuous lick of now tangible air against her skin makes her body shiver and sing, but she doesn’t hesitate to follow their lead as they guide her into his lap. with just the slightest roll of her hips against his she settles there, vaguely aware that if he’d been able to sense her before, he must be able to feel her now; the arousal molten between her thighs. 

finally his hands are on her, his lips caressing her jaw help her to loose a sigh of relief. all at once she wants him in a way that borders on desperation, but also knows that she’d be content to stay like this for hours, azriel’s lips trailing dizzying kisses along her skin. it feels innocent somehow but she knows it’s anything but; that at some point this evening he’ll be inside her. she rocks her hips once again in a more deliberate attempt to feel him and rests her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, but it doesn’t take long for one to travel down his forearm. her fingers curl around his wrist and she lifts his digits to her mouth, kissing his fingertip before sucking it between her lips with a soft hum. it turns to a short burst of laughter when he calls her little witch, the name from his lips taking her by surprise.

“does that mean you want me to work my magic on you, azriel?” she murmurs playfully, eyes transfixed on his dark head of hair as she moves to swirl her tongue around a second digit. her own fingertips trail from his shoulder and travel the contours of his torso, and she pushes at the hem of his shirt to finally make contact with his flesh, her nails graze the skin with equal measure of confidence and care. “— you’ll have to ask me nicely if you do.” it’s nesta’s way of giving him an out - if he wants one - although she can’t help herself from nipping at his thumb as she watches him carefully from beneath lust hooded eyes; focused now more than ever on keeping her hips still. she's all too aware that they've already passed the point of no return (at least, for her they have) but she trusts azriel's judgement more than her own; wants him to have the final say.

he's more than apt at hiding his scent but chooses not to in this moment. he wants her to know, wants her to feel satisfaction at what she can do to even the strongest of warriors. giving back power to some that feel powerless - not that she is. she never has been, with those sharp looks and vicious tongue. and now she is something amplified - something much more powerful than ever before.

safe. safe was a word he grasped onto. she felt safe with him, which was not unusual but yet so. he very much doubted anyone felt safe around him on the receiving end of his fury but reserved for those he loved? he was fiercely loyal and protective. and she felt safe with him, which meant she also felt seen, heard, and protected. oddly, that warm feeling also flooded through to his desire to show her truly how safe she was under his watch.

every movement is noticed and noted by him; from how she looks and admires all of his features to how she shifts on her chair, wanting more of what they've started. when he fingertips trace the wood of the table when she moves, he can hear it.

azriel can feel her anticipation, the want for his reactions. he rarely has them but he also wants to please her as badly as she wants to surprise him. he allows his head to turn, her fingers on his jawline. her lips on the corner of his mouth has them perking, a funny little look upon his dark features. her kisses are soft but make a strong point. the one to his throat has his pulse quickening. should he tell her that was something he liked? perhaps she already knows. his shadows, like little wisps of smoke, dance slowly around her nude form and sensually move about her. he can feel her body without actually feeling her, though he wants to put his hands on her. was this permission? he turns his chair. azriel's scarred fingers find her chin and hazel eyes lock. his thumb rolls her bottom lip once and his own full lips part, " i like that you feel safe with me. " he tells her, his shadows pushing upon her back to guide her up, and then into his lap. his hands do touch her now, around her waist. his face turns, his lips caressing her jawline. " i think i'll like anything you give me, little witch."

PHOEBE TONKIN Rolla’s Jeans (August 2022)

"if there are two innocent beings here, then i must have been reborn on the mountain." the remaining weariness in her gaze ebbs away, making way for the glimmer of amusement. it lingers even as he pulls her in and although she's relishing their back and forth, she has no desire to continue the ruse and swat him away. nesta doesn't hesitate to curl into his side; and not only because it's impossible to resist his lips on her skin. the safety of his wing draped over her and the comfort of the loveseat are too enticing to deny.

"oh, i want to hit you often. you're incredibly vexing." her smile balances somewhere between saccharine and serene, but it's mostly hidden as she turns to press her lips against his shoulder before relaxing into him entirely. the only sign for a few quiet moments that nesta is still very much awake comes from fingers entwining with cassian's on her hip, gripping them as a reminder to herself that he's real; that everything is real. "— but you're also incredible."

cassian watches her fingers stroke the soft skin of the baby's cheek. it's such a gentle, kind touch. he knows she has always been capable of such things. a smirk is shown when she admits she has been wrong - so has he. many times. cassian then scoffs once more, feigning shock, "how dare you threaten violence! we are two innocent beings here." the lord of bloodshed practically gasping while placing a hand on his chest. a hand moves to pull her close into his side, sitting so close that his large body and wings slightly encase not only nyx but her with them. cassian's arm slides around her body, his hand resting on her hip. he leans in, kissing her jaw. " you don't really want to hit me, do you?"

i had planned to queue a few replies but i'm actually still too giggly.

nesta watches her friend from the doorway for a few quiet moments, marvelling at the unlikely NEW CARYNTHIAN. if she hadn’t been blessed enough to witness it with her own eyes, she isn’t certain that she’d be able to believe it. not out of any doubt about gwyn and emerie’s strength, but that she’s lucky enough to call two of the most resilient females she knows her friends. but she is that lucky; luckier still that all of her loved ones are safe. over the course of one of the most hideous days of her life, she has uncovered a secret that she didn’t realise she had kept from herself: that she too is one of the most resilient females she knows.

after months (years) of fighting it, she had found it in herself to plunge into the darkest depths of her power to save the people who mean the most to her… to bring a new one into the world. for the first time in a long while the band around her chest has eased it’s vice like grip on her. nesta pushes herself from the doorframe and into the midnight breeze, not wishing to spend another second alone. gwyn’s greeting brings another smile to her lips, clearing the exhaustion from her features. it hurts her face to beam like this; in the same way days spent fighting to survive have left a dull ache in her muscles. they’re one in the same, so she allows the smile to linger... allows herself to feel happy without hesitation. 

“regardless of if you can forgive me, i'm confident that rhysand can be convinced to keep you well stocked with tea cakes and any other sweet treats you may desire.” a playful glint flickers in silver eyes as she rests beside her friend, thankful for the balcony to carry some of her weight, but her voice is serious when she speaks again. “— it meant more to you... to you and emerie. i had another mountain to climb.” 

‧.⋆｡⋆ ✩ ༶⋆ STARTER CALL | @moondevoured

SHE QUELLS THE GUT DEEP ANXIETY that threatens to steal her breath as she stares out at the vast city of velaris. a jewel box carved into stone by the sea. it was lovely, to be sure. an utter tragedy to have never beheld it in all of its splendor in her time here. the townhouse offers views neither the library nor the house could afford, throwing the court of night into sharp relief. winding roads lined with shops and taverns and beautiful homes, all brimming with people as evening gave way into true night [ . . . ] there's a wistfulness that takes root in her heart alongside her fear. a powerful yearning that might one day eclipse the fright that kept her shackled to a place that no longer served her. a half smile tugs at gwyn's lips as nesta comes to join her on the balcony, settling at the lip of the railing. ' I still don't know if I forgive you for staying behind. . . ' she muses, her voice a teasing lilt to conceal the anguish that still gripped her heart at the memory of nesta's face on the mountain. ' But if you can make the high lord send more of these tea cakes to the library I'll consider a truce. '