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ghost-bxrd · 7 months

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So with Fae!Dick, we all know that Bruce is just… not gonna say anything bc of his own mental health, but do you think the other batkids notice anything once they come along?

On one hand, I think someone would have to notice. If not Jason, then Tim, Steph, Barbara, or Damian bc, well, they’re BATS. They literally have been trained to notice things.

On the other hand, though, I think it would be HILARIOUS if they just attributed Dick’s Fae nature to him just being weird. Like, completely unaware he isn’t human. Maybe not entirely realistic but I think it leaves for some interesting comedic moments 😅

Honestly at one point I think it all devolves into plausible deniability. 😭😂

Jason is the first to notice something amiss, obviously. But he joins Bruce in pretending it‘s just Dick‘s general weirdness. After all, as long as the dog just howls once in a while it’s not necessarily a wolf, right? And Dick, after the initial hang up and trying to kill him a little, is sweet as a summer‘s day to him and viciously protective to boot. Galas and all the rich people there that used to treat Jason like a circus animal aren’t a problem anymore because Dick always swoops in like a bat out of hell and distracts the creepy old ladies with a charming smile until they walk away with vacant eyes. It‘s all pretty funny. And very weird. But hey, Jason gets a laugh out of it and that secretive little grin from Dick so whatever.

Tim I headcanon has Dick all figured out within a month of officially meeting him (the opposite of this would be Tim never figuring it out which is also kinda funny and just attributing it to his circus past or something) and is veeery cautious about interacting with Dick for a time. It makes Dick kind of sad and Tim can only withstand the puppy eyes so long until he caves.

Steph just kinda shrugs and accepts Dick‘s strangeness at face value. It ain’t hurting her so why should she bother? Dick is cool. She likes Dick. End of story, thank you and good day. And yeah, fine, some of his habits are downright weird and everything but who is she to judge? And he‘s always down to cause mischief with her which is?? Super cool???? Even the more devious pranks she can bribe him into joining by handing him a jar of fresh honey or hand picked fruit!! Anybody trying to say shit about Dick lands them on her hit list, period.

Cass is Cass. Nobody can fool her. She may not know what Dick is, but she‘s painfully aware he‘s other. Most wildlife treats him like bees would their queen, there‘s always the scent of pines and rain following him. Dick‘s body language says ‘playful-content-happy’ but his eyes say ‘dark-dangerous-predator’. It’s all very conflicting; a study of contradictions. Cass learns to go by what his body language says and quickly finds a kindred spirit in Dick, who somehow always seems to know exactly what she tries to express but has trouble translating into words.

I headcanon Damian grew up with folklore so while his first theory may not be “fae” he definitely has Dick down as something other than human. Which means he must be powerful. Which means Damian must keep himself in Dick’s good graces in the hopes of making the creature teach him how to be powerful in turn. And, well, the kid grew up with a grandad that regularly takes dips in a magical swimming pool. I don’t think there’s much that can genuinely shock him lol.

Duke is… well, he’s the sensible one so of course he’s the first one to actually ask questions. And then proceeds to go nearly insane because??? Nobody seems to?? Care???? That Dick just rotated his head a full 360°???? Or that the manor sure af isn’t supposed to??? Randomly add hallways???? Or that there’s a whole ass SWAMP that appeared in the basement overnight???? Or a door that leads straight into the forest?????? Duke very nearly nopes the hell out because that’s too much even for him. But finally, finally someone takes pity on him (I headcanon it’s Cass) and she doesn’t explain anything per se, she just kind of… shows Duke. Shows him around the manor, introduces him to twisting halls and strange rooms, takes him to where Dick is lounging with the rest of the family, purring like a content cat. And Duke still doesn’t understand, not completely, but Dick smiles at him with too many, too sharp teeth and tugs him into the huge cuddle pile and?? Are those feathers on his neck?? No, he must have imagined it. Anyway, Duke thinks he can handle this… strangeness, if it scores him a family like this. It’s Gotham, right? Weirder things happen here on the daily.

Omg this turned into a whole ass essay I’m so sorry 😰😅😭✨

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cursedkeyboard · 9 months

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Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.4)

What does Jason do as he raises his kid lovingly like he wished he'd been raised? Try his best and fail spectacularly to keep his nosy family away, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader / Batfamily & Jason Todd

After about a year and quite a few months, maybe around the second christmas Jason spent with you, Jason became antsy

The problem wasn't with you two, no

You were his angel and almost never caused him any trouble, even if he'd always call you brat and squirt

The problem was Bruce and Dick and his entire nosy ass family trying to find out why hadn't he come home for christmas a second year in a row

Not only that, he also had cut back on many other activities he'd usually do with friends or his family

Like taking over patrol shifts for others, hanging out with Roy, visiting the manor to see Ace and Alfred, and gossiping with Babs

C'mon, you know he's totally the type to think his kid is so much better than everyone

You're his damn best friend, his confidant, the person he trusts most in the world and would die for in a blink

So Jason wouldn't even notice he was neglecting every other person in his life until they started blowing up his phone and trying to break into his apartment

Like the fucking demon brat did

Damian tried, at three in the morning, with his katana and everything

His excuse? He was tired of everyone talking about why Jason was growing distant and decided to solve the mystery by infringing his privacy

Jason's excuse to grabbing him by the collar and throwing him out of he window before he could take another step inside? You had classes that day

And children are supposed to sleep a lot to grow

He thought that'd be the end of it, after properly threatening every single one of them into staying the fuck away from his home

but then again, Jason should've never put faith in people who are nosy for a living

So he started having to hide you during the day when the two of you hung out

Jason took you to Bat Burger after a rough day at school? Dick conventionally shows up minutes later! And you hide under the table

Jason and you were taking a morning walk to start the day? Surprise! Cass is suddenly coming your way. And you're jumping into a bush (he helped you take the twigs out of your hair later but laughed the entire time)

You finally convinced Jason to watch the latest superhero movie that just came out? Ho, boy! Look, Duke just so happened to also have been wanting to see it! Aaand you have to pee real bad

For you it's like a game, never let the Waynes catch you

The rewards are many; head pats, Jason's laughter, a hardcover book that you had been eyeing

The consequences of failing...?

That was the scary part for Jason

He'd spend nights thinking about it after tucking you in bed

Would they take you away? Would they think he's abusing you? Would they be disappointed in him for thinking he could be anything else but a disappointment?

Irrational and emotional, those thoughts were, but you were the life of Jason's life

Fuck, you're the one person he hadn't let down yet

The one person he didn't disappoint or hurt

You thrived every day, growing up and putting on weight, learning more every moment because you had a thirst for knowledge just like him

God, every time you looked at him like he was your whole world

Like he was your damn hero

It gave his life a little more meaning

He wanted to keep you safe, watch you grow into a beautiful person, better than he could ever hope to be

But he also wanted you to stay being his

His kid

Not taken away by protective services or recruited into Bruce's little army of children

So imagine how his stomach dropped when during one fateful night, as he helped you with your haircare routine

–Jason sitting on the couch and you between his legs on the floor, your back to him–

his door opened up, was picked open, and a good portion of his family (Dick, Damian, Stepth, and Bruce) waltzed in like they fucking owned the place

There was no way to hide, both of you caught off guard

"Jason! Games' over, buddy, we're here now–"

"Is– Is that a child?"

"What the fuck."

Jason was torn between taking them on on a 4v1 or pulling you in his arms and jumping out of the window

You chose for him, quickly climbing on the couch and hiding away under his arm, almost completely covered by his bulky form

You're not a coward but you're also not good with people like you are with Jason

You also don't exactly like the big bat after everything he did to your da–

To Jason

"Tell me you didn't kidnap a child, Jay."

"No, Steph, I didn't fucking kidnap anyone–"

"Is this why you didn't let me in? I expected better from you, Todd."

"You fucking brat– Can you just leave–"

"No, no, hang on, am I an uncle? Oh, my god, am I? Holy shit, I am!"

"You're not a fucking uncl–"

"Jason, explain."

And oh, how that terrified Jason

He hated the way Bruce was staring at you, like you were a puzzle, something he needed to figure out before he could ultimately collect

It almost made Jason snarl like a wounded dog

You were his kid, god damn it, and Jason would be damned if he let Bruce take you

So he swallowed his fear and clenched his trembling hands and made everyone sit down before he explained

He asked you if you wanted to go to your room, just in case you didn't feel comfortable around them, but you shook your head

"I don't wanna leave you alone."

"...Okay, okay, squirt, what you say goes."

None of them missed the way Jason easily wrapped his arm around you, tucking you close, and how you hid you face partially in his shoulder, glancing at them with one eye

And so, he began telling his tale

Interrupted only a few times because Dick couldn't shut the fuck up to save his life and Damian thinks being insufferable is a good personality trait, Jason finally let the cat out of the bag after about two years of keeping it hidden

"Why didn't you come to us? We could've helped."

"Helped? Bruce, look at the demon spawn, he sleeps with a knife under his pillow and he's, what? Thirteen? This kid here sleeps with a Garfield plushy, like children should."

At that, you slapped his shoulder (it still didn't hurt) and all Jason did was chuckle and kiss your forehead

It was jarring for all of them to see such a soft version of their most volatile family member

In fact, they could now see how the entire apartment had changed

No longer was it a... mojo dojo casa house of sorts, but a cozy and welcoming environment

Shit, the fridge even had cute magnets on it to hold all of your drawings

Frames with pictures of you two were placed everywhere, along with your awards from school and his own additions like a couple of plants and vinyls on the walls

It stung a little to know he'd kept a whole child away from them for so long, to know he didn't trust them enough

It especially hurt Bruce, since technically this was his first grandchild

All in all, everyone eventually fell silent, one fuming, some curious, and others brooding

Until you broke it by finally speaking, tilting your head until you were looking directly into Batman's glowing eyes

"I don't care if you're Batman or Bruce Wayne, if you hurt Jason again, I'll kill you myself."

To say Jason was proud was putting it mildly

He was so ecstatic he could make that day a national holiday

Jason ignored the rest of his family freaking out about how you knew Batman's identity and hugged you close, squeezing you gently

"Fucking love you, kiddo."

To be continued...

#jason todd #red hood #red hood x you #platonic jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x reader #red hood x gn!reader #jason todd x gn!reader #platonic red hood x reader #platonic #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #batfamily x reader #platonic batfamily x reader

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an-android-in-a-tutu · 1 year

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Hey if we’re talking about Dean and angels, entirely in good faith I’m sure, you wanna see one of my most personally loathed Dean transgressions?

It’s this bit from season 9:

[IMG: Dean Winchester with a phone to his ear, facing left, Sam is out of focus in the background of the shot. The captions read “Well, trust me, they’re just monsters with good PR.”]

[IMG: A man leaning against his car on the side of the road with his phone to his ear, the other side of the conversation. The captions, continued from the previous image, read: “So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil.”]

[IMG: Later in the same conversation, Dean, leaning back and facing slightly right speaking into his phone. The captions read “And, uh, spread the word.”]

[IMG: The same as above, Dean continues speaking, the captions now read: “The more hunters that know, the better.”]

I’ve cut for the relevant stuff but that’s Dean’s solution to the problem of a bunch of fallen angels being on earth. Warning hunters about them I get, but this? To Dean angels are monsters with good pr, helping them or even sparing them isn’t in the equation, the solution is to burn them alive with holy oil.

Just to be clear, these are the last words exchanged with Cas on the matter:

[IMG: Castiel in the foreground looks back at another angel, Hael, who is looking around with concern, holding her harms to her chest and stomach. They are outside, framed next to a dumpster and an outhouse, Castiel is speaking into a payphone. The Captions read “Some are just looking for direction.”]

[IMG: Dean Winchester holds a cellphone to his ear, listening and looking perturbed, he is in a hospital hallway. The captions, continued from the previous image, read: “Some are just lost.”]

Cas expresses that some of the angels are just lost and confused, that he met one and wants to help her.

[IMG: Dean in the left half of the frame, looking down, speaking into the phone. The captions read “No Cass, I know you want to help, okay, I do.”]

Dean warns him not to, and I actually like and understand Dean’s point of view here. Dean might understand that Cas cares about the other angels, but he cares a lot more about Cas not getting hurt, and he’s personally seen that some angels are out for his blood, and considering Cas just finished getting tricked by an angel that caused this whole mess I don’t think it’s unreasonable for him to be skeptical of Cas’ judgment here. I mean, no more than his own considering what he’s about to do and also considering, oh yeah, it was Sam and Dean going to Metatron for help that put him back into play in the first place, but this is like understandable and in character. Dean wants Cas to prioritize his own safety, that’s cool.

[IMG: Castiel, centre frame, looking off to the right, speaking into a payphone, he looks upset. The captions read: “And do what? Just abandon them all?”]

Cas for his part views not helping the angels that he can as wrong, not fighting against them or hurting him, but just not doing everything he can to help. The conversation gets cut off before they can really get into an argument about it, and Cas ultimately takes Dean’s advice and tries to leave Hael and go to the bunker alone.

Now you know and I know that Cas ends up having to kill Hael when she backs him into a corner, despite his attempts to leave peacefully. Dean doesn’t know about that, his last word from Cas is that he wants to help the angels.

Cas has done plenty wrong by heaven, and a lot of what motivates him to help is the weight of that guilt, but his desire to reconcile and repent for his mistakes, and to help the other angels is a well established and consistent trait of his. Dean knows about this, he literally says “I know you want to help.” He just doesn’t care.

Because angels are “monsters with good PR”

anyway this is why I can’t stand it when people claim Cas should’ve trusted Dean with the angel tablet back in season 8. Forget the fact that Kevin literally got kidnapped from the place they were keeping him (and planning to take the angel tablet) two episodes later, Dean himself is not someone who can be trusted with information about angels, not if Cas cares about the well-being of his species, and he does.

Anyway that’s my take on it you’re welcome to disagree obviously, but Imo just because Cas is the poster child for angel massacres doesn’t mean the fact that his best friend seems to consider him and everyone like him to be sub-human isn’t like. An issue.

#spn #supernatural #Castiel #the show generally is fucked up about angels and Dean is the mouthpiece for the show #if you prefer to edit around this stuff in your Dean characterization I'm fine with that #but what I more often see is people uncritically repeating the show's framing #hence Cas being a special angel who is simply more human and feels more deeply than other angels #who are simply all less than

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havendance · 5 months

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Cassandra Cain vs The World

AO3 | Superlove

Fandom: DCU (comics)

Featured Characters/Relationships: Cassandra Cain/Kon-el Kent (and also Cass & Barbara)

Wordcount: 2700

Fic Summary:

“You know, if this is going to be official,” Superboy says, “you’re going to have to defeat my evil exes.” Cass is new to this whole dating thing. She's still figuring out how it works and how exactly she feels about it, but fighting people? That's easy.

Welcome to the CassKon Scott Pilgrim AU that's been living in the back of my head for the past year. This is the reason I started reading Superboy comics.

Excerpt:

They kiss in the air, after fighting the monster. It is… warm, Cass decides. It blends with the adrenaline from the fight, Superboy’s arms around her, his tactile telekinesis dancing across her skin. Cass likes it.

They pull apart, still hundreds of feet in the air, still hurtling toward Gotham.

“Wow,” Superboy says. “That was— I mean— Just… wow.”

Cass smiles.

“You know, if this is going to be official,” he says after a bit, “you’re going to have to defeat my evil exes.”

“Your… evil exes?”

“I mean, you’re totally kick ass,” he says quickly, “so it shouldn’t be a problem! Unless you have evil exes you need me to fight. I can do that too.”

“No,” Cass says. She can fight. Fighting is easy. She doesn’t remember anything like this in the soap operas she watches sometimes, but Barbara is always saying they aren’t accurate. This must be one of those things. “I’ll fight. How many?”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” she decides.

“Rad. I’ve got six, but it should be easy. I’ll just make some calls after I drop you off. This is going to be great!”

Read the rest on AO3!

#dc #batman #batgirl #superboy #kon el kent #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #casskon #bats + birds + affiliated #babs tag #cass tag #havendance writes #my fic #carthago delenda est

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thedeviltohisangel · 4 months

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Would love some more explicit smut, hehe.

Love them!!! Cass needs to let John love her. Also love that she calls him John haha, like everyone calls him Bucky haha

thank you for loving them!! Cass is scared of losing love which means she is afraid to have it too. And I also kind of am obsessed with her only ever calling him by his true name. she loves the foundations of him.

this is a somnophilia fic because i have no self control. also, new parents cass/john. HANDYMAN JOHN building his wife a whole ass house a la the notebook.

i am officially accepting that my blurbs are so fucking beyond blurbs. enjoy xoxo

warning: smut

The book was open in front of her, the scene actually that was important to the plot and of interest to her, but her mind was in a different place. She'd had a very interesting dream about her husband last night. Cass had dreams about the way John would make love to her and the way he would touch her and open her and make her feel like she was ascending to the heavens. No matter how often they found the time to sneak away and coax an orgasm from her or him. No matter how many nights or mornings or afternoons he slipped into her with ease and they found bliss in each other's moans, for Cass it was never enough.

"What you reading, baby?" John appeared in the doorway of the back porch and she was reminded exactly what the problem was. He was building them a beautiful house in Northern Virginia with enough rooms for the two babies that were with their nanny at the park, the new baby that Cass had learned about a couple of days ago inside of her and all the other dashing little Egans that flitted across her dreams. There would be more room for their children to play, a more spacious kitchen for them to make memories around food, enough land for her horses to join them from South Carolina and even Butter was going to be afforded more than ample space for all his toys.

"Something that isn't really keeping my attention." Her attention was focused on the way he was eating the peach in his hand. The juice trickling down his arm and her tongue licking her lips those she ached to lick his skin.

"You want to take a bath with me before the babies get back?" He was sweaty from a day at the site of their new home, slightly sunburnt and a little dirty from the surprise garden he was building for her in the new backyard. "I ask but I've already filled the tub and was just waiting for you to add the bubbles." Cass tossed her book to the side with a nod and held his outstretched hand as they made their way through the house they were borrowing from her parents until their perfect home had finished construction. She had already asked them if the clawfoot tub could come with them. It held so many memories from bathtime with their children, Butter included, and important conversations with John. Some of them heavy and teary but others ending in kisses and gasps and symphonic declarations of love.

"I love our little demons but sometimes the quiet is very nice," she hummed as she settled her back to his chest in the comfort of the warm water and lavender smelling soap.

"How'd you convince Butter to go to the park with them?" he whispered as his lips brushed against her ear.

"I promised him he would get two steaks instead of just one for dinner for a week and that he could sleep in bed with me without having to fight you for it."

"For how long?" he scoffed.

"Forever." John rolled his but the annoyance disappeared as she snuggled closer to him. "Relax. I will still be able to take care of you first thing in the morning." The way their bodies came together in the morning was one of her favorite things in the entire world. The way he was groggy and raspy and had pillow indents on his cheek but was always rock hard for her. The way her panties were damp just at the sight of it, every morning like clockwork, no matter how many days it happened. Her thirst for him could never be quenched.

"Last night, you were making little sounds in your sleep."

"Oh?" she asked innocently as she turned in his lap with a bar of soap.

"Sounded like you were dreaming up something filthy, Spook."

"I was. And my husband did nothing to care of me when he noticed apparently." He wrapped his hand around her wrist where it was working the soap along his collarbone.

"You were asleep." He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her. Or doing something towards her without her explicit consent. Even though they were married with two babies, John never wanted to be improper towards her.

"And I'm telling you that doesn't matter." The soap dropped into the water with a splash so her hands could cup his cheeks. "Next time I am wet and in need of you, my husband, I want you to take care of it. Please, Johnny, promise?" He couldn't find the words to respond so he kissed her instead. Nothing turned him on more than Cass' evolution to embracing her sexual desires and just asking him for what she wanted. He was proud that he had unlocked such an insatiable side to his precious, proper and polite wife.

"I promise, Mrs. Egan, I promise."

A night of two later when the dreams came back, John watched and listened with a smirk. There was a wet spot slowly growing in the center of her panties and her breaths were turning into slow and soft moans. He kissed the top of her shoulder and pulled the hem of her nightgown so it rested at the bend of her waist. His fingers slipped below the elastic band and he groaned himself at how aroused she was just by dreaming of him.

"John," she moaned but her eyes stayed closed. Her eyebrows knit together as he circled a particularly sensitive spot. His own gaze remained focused on her as he tested one finger in and out of her. Tested running his thumb over her clit in unison. Her legs opened at their own accord, her hip bucking up into his hand to chase further friction.

"Good girl," he whispered as a flush crept up on her chest and she began to pant. "My sleepy little love." Her eyes slowly fluttered open as pleasure took root in her facial features, her mouth dropping open and her hand pressing to his as if he would ever dare to move it.

"Oh, fuck, John," she breathed as he stuck two fingers in her mouth to keep her quiet and chased her hips as they tried to escape the pleasure he was giving her. She sucked on those two fingers like a lollipop as she settled back down to earth and hummed satisfactorily as he lazily kept thumbing at her clit and pulled his fingers from her.

"Here you go, baby. Taste how sweet my pretty wife is." He spread his fingers to marvel at the way her cum coated them and watched, enraptured, at the way she licked at her own arousal. "Better than your dream?"

"There's one thing missing."

"What's that?" Cass hooked a finger around the crotch of her panties and pulled them to the side. "You coming inside of me."

#john egan #masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota #john egan x oc #answered #cass and bucky

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master-of-stupidity · 5 months

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Fuck it gonna put all my Tangled rants into a single thread that I'll just continue on if needed-

Oldest to newest btww (also spoilers most of these r about Eugene btw ik ik I'm a lil autistic spare me 💀)

That one part of Bruno is Orange but Eugene coded-

"Did you hear about that Father

Sent his own infant son away

And said "It's to *dangerous* for

you to stay so, I had to *save* you" "

I may be cringe but I am FREE

Yo omg ok so my brother is singin a Into the Woods song while I look at Tangled stuff n it made me remember a scene from the play where Gothel yells at the Prince "Rapunzel can think for herself!" n like- dude Cass said the same thing in Cassandra's Revenge to Eugene! Ooo girlll-

The way I would kill so many ppl if it meant getting a series about Lance n Eugene as kids like broooo imagineee-

Its crazy how like I'll be enjoying my day than suddenly I'll see a post of a mf going "Hey what if Eugene thought he was a yr younger cuz he was like a rlly scrawny kid?" Yeah ok sure n what if I hit u with a *metal pole*

My tangled ocs r so random its hilarious- like it goes from a bodyguard,a greedy businessman,a ringleader,n than that one serial killer who turns ppl into meat pies like how did we get here???? 😭🙏

I just remembered like just a few days ago my brother randomly said "vase" while playing Fortnite n my ass just said "vAHse" just to fck w/ him n like that kinda reminded me of that one scene of Eugene n Cass like damn they were sibling coded frrr lmao I miss em

Wdym there was a scrapped Eugene n Lance childhood episode??🧍And WDYM it's literally everything I ever wished for and more???????? 😃

Would love to see Eugene n Martin Kratt interact solely to see Martin be appalled n slowly lose his mind over how Eugene knows jackshit about animals 💀🙏

I think the Eugene genderbends look so weird to me because none of them kept the infamous goatee like cmon man don't be a coward give that girl some facial hair 🗣🗣

I should not be relating Heather's music to scenes from Tangled the Series yet here we r 😭

Omggg thinking about how Eugene proposing to Rapunzel in tts came from his abandonment issues n him literally not being able to see a life without Rapunzel omgg shut upppp leave me ALONEEE

Literally despise with every fiber of my being how the writers of the shitty Wreck it Ralph 2 movie had fcking RAPUNZEL of all ppl say "Do ppl assume all ur problems were solved just because a big strong man showed up?" They fcking HATEE the movie Tangled *so much* bro istggg

OMFG THE VOICE OF KING FREDRIC FROM TANGLED IS MR. FCKING KRABS WHAT?????

The way I wanna be bold n talk more about the "Over the Corona Walls" ep- esp about Staylan n Eugene n all the icky implications of that but I'm also so scared too cuz I fear ppl won't take me seriously or think I'm overanalyzing too much 😭🙏

Lowkey not over the fact Eugene was willing to trap himself back in an abusive relationship, "leaving" the one person he HAS died for n would die for again, all to save his best friend like bro don't TALK TO MEEEE

As u can tell I am totally normal n not at all ill about Eugene or this show 😁

What if I gave Eugene like- slight wedding trauma after the whole "Beyond the Corona Walls" incident??? I think it'd be kinda cool n in character ngll 🤭🤭

No but that prompt for the unaired Lance n Eugene episode STILL makes me so fcking ill bro stg can't STAND those mfss bro 😭😭

"And if I gave up on being *pretty* I wouldn't know how to be ALIVE" is SO Eugene coded idc idc idccccc

You think if I put Eugene Fitzherbert in The Amazing Digital Circus he'd be a walking dumpster fire considering he needs an identity to function n in TADC u like- quite literally don't have one??? 💀

Was listening to an audio last night n now I kinda wish we knew like- what Eugene's mom was actually *like* in a way considering I don't think her character was ever explored :((

Why is this plushie literally Eugene Fitzherbert omgg I want it nowwww

To the ppl who only see others as their pfps lowkey rlly hope y'all just see me as jester Eugene Fitzherbert cuz that'd be rlly funny n I'd love that 💀🙏 like yes I truly am just Eugene in a jester fit yappin my ass off on twitter dot com LMFAOOO (btw follow me @/theratbatjester)

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c-e-d-dreamer · 5 months

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Punish You With Pleasure (Pleasure You With Pain): Part Two

A/N: I know it's technically WIP Wednesday, but what if I just post a whole ass update instead? That's right! We're back for more Rhysta! Sometimes, bullying does work. As a very important note, I have updated the tags for this fic. I know you can't see them here on Tumblr, but please know they now include the Major Character Death tag. If that's not your jam or if Rhysta still isn't your cup of tea, not clicking the read more and scrolling past this is free. Massive shout-out to the Nessian besties who helped me plot where this fic is now going and an extra big shout-out to @witch-and-her-witcher for beta-ing another chapter of this mess! Anyways! Onward to the NSFW smut-fest!

Read on AO3

“And then, of course, the table breaks, pieces of splintered wood everywhere.”

“It was a problem with the table. It wasn’t structurally sound.”

“Oh, sure, Cass. Blame the table. I’m sure it had nothing to do with you being drunk off your ass or anything.”

Mor and Cassian continue to bicker and tease one another across the table, arguing over the true events at Rita’s last night, but Rhys is quick to tune them out. He tunes out Azriel’s quiet, cool remark. He tunes out Feyre’s light laughter. Everything in the dining room fades away until his focus is solely on the female sitting all the way at the other end of the table.

Nesta hasn’t said a single word to him since she walked through the front door, but at least, she’s here. Clearly, his visit earlier in the week to her apartment was as effective as he’d hoped. Clearly, she followed his demand for her attendance at family dinner. He has to hide his smug smile behind the rim of his wine glass, taking a small sip of the red liquid.

She keeps her head down, gaze pointedly focused on the plate of food in front of her, aimlessly pushing around the vegetables across the porcelain. But Rhys doesn’t miss the way her grip around her fork tightens slightly, the barest hint of her lips pinching. He knows she can feel his gaze pinning her in place.

He dares to reach out and into her mind. Tall, iron gates reaching high and twisting dark vines and brambles greet him, but Rhys doesn’t allow it to deter him. He scrapes a talon dark as night along those mental walls, digging in just enough until he finds a tear. It’s small, but it’s enough for him to thrust the images into her mind.

The sight of her on her knees before him, tears streaking down her cheeks, lips stretched wide, and breasts bouncing with every hard snap of his hips, every plunge of his cock down her throat. The sight of her slumped over the back of her sofa, skin tinged pink and glistening with sweat, his come dripping from her abused cunt and coating the inside of her thighs.

A pretty view, don’t you agree? Almost as pretty as you sitting quietly here at dinner. Who knew all you needed to behave was a good fucking?

Nesta snaps her attention toward him, eyes narrowed in a withering glare. She shoves him hard from her mind, but Rhys knows he’s had the desired effect, the start of a pink flush beginning to pool in the apples of Nesta’s cheeks. He chuckles softly, taking another sip of his wine and turning his attention away from the eldest Archeron.

But his mind continues to linger with her.

Even here, in this dining room, the scent of her arousal still seems to cling to the air around him, still clogs his senses with the sweetness of it. The sounds of her moans still echo in his ears, the sound of her begging for him. He can still feel the wet warmth of her cunt, the way it took his cock, the way her walls fluttered and squeezed around him.

Worse still is the way his magic has swelled since that evening spent at Nesta’s apartment. It writhes in his chest in a way he hasn’t experienced since he first took up the mantle of High Lord, eager for attention and desperate for release.

Like calls to like.

That’s what his father always said. But whatever magic Nesta stole from the Cauldron, whatever power licks and climbs through her veins, it calls Rhys’s magic to rise in a way that’s indescribable. In a way that has him feeling dangerous and wanting more, has him wanting to learn what happens when their magic truly meets and melds. A siren song all its own.

So much power, so much potential.

“Rhys.”

Drawn out of his thoughts, Rhys turns to find a pair of bright, blue eyes watching him curiously, a soft smile. Feyre’s hand rests on his knee, and Rhys reaches for it, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Sorry, darling. Lost in my thoughts I suppose.”

“Thought for a thought?” Feyre offers, a tease of their old game.

Rhys hums, giving Feyre’s hand a squeeze where it’s still held in his. “Just reminiscing really. Thinking about how far our family has come, to all be sitting here like this.”

Feyre’s expression softens even as she rolls her eyes fondly at him. “You’re quite the sap sometimes, but come on. Everyone is moving into the sitting room.”

Feyre pushes up from the table, heading out of the dining room and toward the voices drifting in from the other room. Rhys watches her go before turning his attention back to the table and his now empty wine glass there. With a quick wave of his hand, he conjures up something stronger, the burn of the amber liquid a welcome reprieve when he tosses it back.

When he steps inside the sitting room, his whole family is lounging before the fire flickering and sparking in the large fireplace. Feyre is perched on the arm of the large armchair, the invitation and open space for him clear, but Rhys’s gaze dances toward the other end of the room. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised to find Nesta near the window, as far away as everyone else in the room as possible.

With everyone else’s attention otherwise preoccupied, Rhys allows his eyes to shamelessly rake over Nesta. His gaze lingers where her legs are primly crossed. It’s been a few days since his visit, but he can’t help but wonder if the female has had any other callers to her apartment since then. How well she washed in that rusty tub of hers after he left. He wonders perhaps if his seed still clings to her after stuffing her full.

He has to swallow hard at that particular thought.

His eyes continue to trace up and up. There’s a pretty pink flush clinging to the swell of her breasts. He smirks. It’s clear she’s noticed his attention. But he keeps his attention firmly in place, watches the way her breasts rise and press over the bodice of her dress as she takes a deep breath in.

Finally, he flicks his gaze up to her face, a pair of stormy blue eyes already narrowed and glaring at him. He dares to reach out for her mind again, scraping claws sensually against those iron gates of hers. Her face hardens, and she shoves to her feet, not sparing anyone in the room a second glance as she strides out of the room.

Rhys allows a few seconds to pass before he turns on his heel, sauntering with ease through the winding halls until he reaches the front doors. Her back is half turned to him, but Rhys doesn’t miss the way Nesta’s body stiffens, her fingers pausing where she was securing the clasp of her cloak.

“What do you want?”

Rhys hums noncommittally, leaning casually against the wall. “Leaving so soon?”

“I came to your stupid dinner,” Nesta snaps, whirling on him. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Oh, Nesta. I’m ecstatic. But it’s quite late. Why don’t I walk you home.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking home myself.”

“I simply want to make sure you’re safe, in my city,” Rhys offers, stepping closer until he can leer down at her. He drops his voice down into something cold, allows his power to rumble beneath the words. “It would be terrible if something were to happen. Don’t you think?”

From the way Nesta’s lips pinch, Rhys knows that his threat has landed, that it had the desired effect. He smiles down at her, all teeth and cool power. He doesn’t know what it is about the female that draws out this viciousness, that bids the line between mask and reality blur. Perhaps, like calls to like also applies to the matching venom twined like thorns around their hearts.

Another tense moment passes between them, but then Nesta is turning and yanking the door open, stepping out into the crisp, night air. Rhys follows behind her, pulling the door closed behind himself.

He allows Nesta to walk a few paces down the street, but as soon as they’re out of view of the windows, he grasps her bicep. Nesta has barely let out a gasp of surprise at his harsh grip before Rhys is winnowing them both. Right to the doorstep of her apartment. Nesta stumbles forward when he releases her, clearly not used to the sensation of winnowing.

“See?” Rhys drawls, straightening out the cuff of his sleeve. “Wasn’t that so much easier? And you didn’t even have to walk in the cold.”

Nesta straightens, glaring at him. “You’ve walked me home. Now, you can fuck off.”

Rhys tsks, shaking his head. “Now, Nesta, I thought we had fixed that smart mouth of yours. Do you need another lesson?”

“You wish.”

Nesta unlocks her apartment and steps inside, but Rhys is quick to slip in as well before she can slam the door in his face. He backs her up until she’s pressed against the wall, his body firmly caging her in. He grips her chin between his fingers, jerking her head up and forcing her gaze to meet his. His thumb drags across her bottom lip, tracing that line of pink that had been so prettily wrapped around his cock before.

He swears he sees a flash in her eyes when they meet his own. A recognition. A promise. As though she feels the same anticipation he does of what’s to come. Of what they could be. Of what they could create.

Already, the scent of Nesta’s arousal has begun to swirl around them. A scent that Rhys has been unable to stop thinking about, that’s haunted him and left him addicted in a way he’s never experienced. His cock twitches in response to that sweet scent, his power humming and flickering in his veins.

His hand slides down until his fingers can curl around her throat. Until he can feel the thundering flutter of her pulse pressed to his palm. Until he can feel each heaving breath she gasps in beneath his grip. He swears he can feel her own power beneath his fingertips, silver flaring beside his shadows, twining with the darkness. It’s a caress, a whisper, a lullaby to the beast within him to lure it forward. A key in the lock of the cage he’s always kept that beast in.

He swears he can hear her name on the breeze, the beast echoing the chant. The High Lord and Death herself. A pairing he’s sure even the Mother couldn’t have foreseen.

“Did you miss my cock, Nesta?” Rhys taunts, pressing his hips forward until she can feel his own growing arousal. “Miss it stretching you out and stuffing you full?”

Nesta whimpers, but defiance still burns in her blue eyes. “Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“Lying to your High Lord? Need I remind you of the way you begged for me to fuck you last time?”

When he reaches into her mind this time, his power surges, talons tearing open those iron gates. In the expanse, it’s easy enough to share a vision again, the broken, breathy voice crying out. Please. It’s easy enough for him to root through her own memories, drawing forward the feel of his cock spearing deep within her, his balls slapping against her clit with each hard, rough thrust. The recollection of sensations is enough to have Nesta moaning softly, her heady scent growing thicker and stronger around them until Rhys can practically taste it on his tongue.

“Please…” Nesta echoes in the present. One simple word but it has that beast within him purring in delight. The prey within his grasp all but asking to be played with.

“Much better. Perhaps you learned something last time after all.” Rhys pulls his free hand back far enough that he can conjure a dagger, dragging the tip of the blade along the neckline of Nesta’s dress. “I know your sisters bought you new things, and yet you still wear this ratty old thing?”

One downward swipe of the dagger, and Rhys splits the dress in two. Hooking the metal into the fabric at her hip next, he tears the undergarments she’s wearing. He sends the dagger back into a pocket universe, finally releasing his hold on Nesta’s throat only so he can shove at the remnants of her dress, pushing it off her shoulders, down her arms, until it’s a puddle at their feet.

He watches the fabric as it flutters, taking his time as he raises his gaze back up. His eyes trace over her calves, up over her thighs. The inside of them are already sticky with her arousal, the dark curls covering her cunt starting to glisten. He continues upward over her stomach, to her chest and the flush painted across the skin there. Her nipples are already peaked and protruding, practically daring for his touch.

She’s indescribable, standing here naked and wanting and vulnerable for him. Whatever power she may hold over his thoughts, it’s him that’s in control here.

Rhys reaches forward, taking one breast in each of his hands. He squeezes and kneads at them, relishing in the heavy weight in his palms, in the shutter that overtakes Nesta’s body and the way she arches off the wall with a moan. He ghosts his thumbs over her pebbled nipples, the touch light and teasing.

“Please.”

Rhys tightens his grip, he pinches and tweaks at her nipples, tugging until Nesta lets out a broken sob of a moan, her hips thrusting forward desperately against nothing.

“Do you need something?” Rhys taunts, smirking at the dazed expression that’s overtaken Nesta’s face, cheeks pink, lips parted, and blue eyes out of focus. He shoves his thigh between her legs, Nesta’s eyes fluttering as she whimpers. “Go on, then. Get yourself drenched and ready to take your High Lord.”

Nesta doesn’t need to be told twice. She starts to rock and grind her cunt against his thigh, every swipe and circle of her hips smearing arousal across the fabric of his pants. He presses his thigh harder against her, practically forcing her up onto her toes, but it doesn’t deter her. She rides his thigh faster, chasing the friction against her clit.

Every moan and whimper that tumbles past her lips goes straight to Rhys’s cock, his length pressing almost painfully against the confines of his pants. He resists the urge to press his own palm against his erection, to relieve some of the ache. Instead, he returns his focus to Nesta’s breasts. He told himself he was going to fuck her tits the next time, but all he can really think about now is burying himself balls deep in her cunt again.

Nesta tosses her head back against the wall, her moans becoming higher in pitch. Her hips start to stutter against his thigh, and even through the fabric of his pants, Rhys can feel the way her cunt has started to flutter. It’s clear that she’s close.

He slides one his hands back up to her throat, squeezing tightly. “I don’t recall giving you permission to come.”

“Rhysand… Rhys… I need…”

“Don’t you want to be a good girl? You were so good, at dinner tonight. How about you be a good girl and sit on my cock.”

His words have Nesta moaning again, even as he pulls away from her completely. Her hips buck against nothing as he steps back from her, eyes glued to his tented pants, his cock twitching in response to her attention. This time, he magics away his clothes. It’s a relief to finally have his cock free, and he fists it lazily, giving into the heat rushing through his veins, the groan trapped in the back of his throat, as he watches Nesta lick her lips.

Rhys walks over to Nesta’s sofa, settling against the cushions with his arms stretched casually along the back, his thighs spread wide. He peers over his shoulder back toward Nesta, raising a pointed eyebrow. “I thought you had learned your place in this Court. Don’t keep me waiting now.”

Nodding her head, Nesta saunters around the sofa until she’s standing in front of him. She keeps her eyes on him as she slowly sinks to her knees, settling between his spread legs. Her hands slide up his thighs, nails biting against the skin, until she reaches his cock. She knocks away his hand so her own fingers can curl around him, slowly dragging up and back down, and then she’s leaning forward.

Her hot breath fanning across the head of his cock is Rhys’s only warning before Nesta swallows him all the way down. A long groan is torn from his chest at the wet heat of her mouth, at the feel of his cock hitting the back of her throat. And when she moans around him, the vibrations traveling all the way to his toes, there’s no stopping the way his hips buck against her, Nesta gagging around him only adding to the delicious sensations burning through his limbs.

“Fuck, look at you,” Rhys groans, threading his fingers through Nesta’s hair and holding her there. “I knew you missed my cock.”

Nesta moans around him again, looking up at him through tear stained lashes. She pulls back slowly, her tongue dragging along the underside of his cock, until he comes free from her mouth with a quiet pop. His length glistens from the ministrations of her mouth, and Nesta leans forward again, lapping up the milky liquid that dribbles from his cockhead.

Rhys watches her through dark eyes. Watches her eyelashes kiss her cheeks with each flutter of her eyes. Watches her hand slip down between her legs, her fingers toying with her clit. But that beast roars for more, demands he take what is his.

“As much as I’m enjoying the sight of you on your knees before your High Lord, I believe I told you to sit on my cock.”

Nesta swallows hard, but then she’s pushing up to her feet on shaking legs. She doesn’t even bother wiping her mouth, lips puffy pink and wet, her cheeks still mottled with tear stains. She hesitates for a moment before settling her hands on his shoulders, using him for balance while she clambers into his lap. Her hand reaches down, fisting his cock and lining him up with her entrance.

She circles her hips, dragging his cock through the wetness gathered there, so he can feel how absolutely drenched and aching she is, but he doesn’t have time for any more teasing. His own hands reach forward, gripping Nesta’s hips hard enough to bruise.

He pulls her down hard until she’s sitting fully on his cock.

The female lets out a sharp cry in surprise at the sudden movement. The walls of her cunt spasm and squeeze around him, the tight warmth exactly how Rhys remembers it.

“Gods, you just love to be stuffed full of my cock, don’t you? Look at how you take it.”

Rhys wastes no time in setting a brutal, punishing pace. Using his grip on her hips, he pulls her up and slams her back down, thrusting up his own hips to meet the movements. It’s indescribable, the drag of her walls against his cock, the way they flutter around him and seem to pull him deeper still with every inward thrust. He’s quickly growing drunk off her sweet cunt, off the litany of moans falling past her lips and mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin.

“You’re just so desperate, aren’t you?” Rhys growls, fucking up into her harder still. “Desperate for your High Lord. Desperate for his cock. Desperate to be filled to the brim.”

“Fuck…” Nesta moans, her hands reaching for her bouncing tits, palming them and pinching her nipples.

“Don’t try lying to me again. I can feel how soaked you are, feel what a mess you’re making of my thighs.”

“Rhysand, please.”

“We both know you can do better than that,” Rhys taunts, his voice dipping into the cool, authoritative tone of a High Lord. “Scream it.”

And scream it she does. Nesta screams his name until she’s hoarse, bouncing on his cock and kneading her breasts desperately. He knocks her hands away, instead enclosing his mouth over her nipple. He sinks his teeth against the skin, biting and tugging until Nesta lets out a high pitched shout. She arches fully against him, her cunt squeezing so tight that Rhys can’t hold on any longer. He pulls her down as far as he can against his lap, his cock pulsing and filling her deeply.

He thrusts shallowly a few more times, groaning and riding out the high of his release. When he lets go of her, Nesta slumps to the side, falling on her back on the sofa beside him. Rhys turns enough that he’s able to pry her legs back open, his gaze focused on her cunt. He watches the way it flutters with the aftershocks of her own orgasm, the way his seed drips out and pools on the fabric of the sofa.

He swipes two fingers through his come, gathering as much as he can, before he shoves his fingers back inside her cunt. Nesta whimpers at the sudden intrusion, but Rhys doesn’t let it deter him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep, leaning over her body and leering down at her.

“We don’t want to lose a drop, now do we? How else will it take?”

Nesta’s whimper shifts into a moan, her entire body shuddering in response. Her walls clench around his fingers, inviting them in deeper, holding his come exactly where it belongs.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Rhys asks, daring to curl his fingers, Nesta bucking up against his hand.

“Yes,” Nesta whispers, her voice little more than a broken moan.

“Not just stuffed with my cock, but full of my seed.”

“Yes!”

Rhys swears in that moment her power flares and rises along with her voice. Swears it calls on and draws out his own, mingling in the space between them like a swirling storm of glittering shadows. Swears he can feel it like a caress, hear it like a whisper. It ensnares him. It’s a finger hooking and tempting him to dive right into the darkness.

Rhys’s cock twitches in renewed interest, already hardening again, and he’s never been more happy for his fae body and its way to recover so quickly. The fingers of his free hand curl around himself, stroking his cock until it stands at full attention again. He shifts fully up onto his knees, pressing Nesta’s leg up and back until its hooked on the back of the sofa, until she’s fully opened up to him.

Rhys pulls his fingers free from her cunt just long enough to replace them with his cock, holding himself still with his hips pressed firmly to hers. “Well, since you begged so pretty, we can make sure you’re really filled and overflowing.”

Rhys pulls his hips back just to snap them back forward again. The beast is fully unleashed as he fucks into her with a ferity he didn’t know possible. Nesta’s moans and shouts ring in his ears, the wet sounds of sex as his cock glides through his own seed, as it slams into the warm cunt of the female beneath him.

He’s half aware of her nails biting into the skin of his back, but it’s the scent that really has his attention. Not just that heady, sweet scent of Nesta’s arousal, but his own scent all over her, in her, mixing together into something that promises power and possibility. It makes him dizzy, pulls a growl from deep within his chest.

Nesta is little more than a mess of pleasure. Her eyes are heavy lidded, whole body rocking with every hard thrust of Rhys’s hips, of his hard cock spearing into her again and again and again. A litany of half choked sounds and sobs falls from her lips like a chant, but he doesn’t miss his name, the please. Somehow, it makes him harder still.

The selfish, stubborn female, the female with the fire of Death in her veins, fully submissive beneath him. All his for the taking.

Rhys can already feel himself climbing dangerously higher, can feel the heat building and writhing for release. Normally, he might feel embarrassed at the speed, but not here, not now. A few more thrusts and he explodes, stars swimming in his vision. Nesta’s cunt squeezes tight around him, practically milking his cock as he spills deep.

He gives himself a moment to catch his breath then finally pulls his softening cock from the blissful refuge. His cock is a mess of her arousal and the result of two releases, but it’s nothing compared to her cunt, beautifully stuffed full and dripping just as he promised. Rhys lazily strokes his hand down and back up his length, his cock giving a final spurt as if in agreement.

He gathers up that final dribble and smears it across Nesta’s lips. “Wouldn’t want to waste a single drop.”

Nesta is pliant, doesn’t protest as he presses those fingers past the seam of her lips and into her mouth. When he pulls his fingers free again, he drags the wet pads of them down her chin, her neck, all the way down the valley of her breasts. He hums quietly to himself, feels what thrums beneath the surface sparking at his touch.

“Perhaps you’ll have some use to this Court after all.”

#rhysta #nesrhys #nesta archeron #Nesta x Rhysand #Nesta x Rhys #acotar #my fic

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arrowmaker15 · 2 years

Text

Headcanon: Jason "I don't care about anyone and I hate everything" Todd threatens people that have any relation to his friends and family whatsoever. Whether it be a relationship, or hurting them, he has probably threatened them. Sort of a sequel to my last headcanon.

For example, Cass? Despite who her parents are, Jason has tracked both of them down, and had the balls to threaten them. Hell, for her dad he pulled out everything he knew and beat his ass to a pulp, just for the way he raised her. Shiva, all he said was that if she showed up in Gotham, it didn't matter where Jason was, he would be there within that week, and she would not like him.

Tim, oh Tim, Bernard got a visit not from vigilante Red Hood, he could handle that if it happened, but instead got a visit from overprotective big brother Jason Todd, and that guy was scarier than the vigilante.

Dick? You can fucking bet that Jason goes overboard with that one. Finding out what Tarantula did to that him sent him off the rails, and Tarantula paid the price dearly. Everyone took that as a warning to "stay the FUCK away from Nightwing."

For Duke all he does is send a picture of himself behind Duke who is looking at a street during the day, pointing a gun at the camera with it titled as "Hurt him, I will be out during the day regularly" to every corner of Gotham's underworld, everybody coming to an understanding.

Then there is Stephanie, problems with both parents. The first night he let Steph crash at his place, you can BET he went to her house and paid a visit to ol' Arthur Brown, aka Cluemaster. 9 broken ribs, a concussion, a fractured arm and 2 black eyes is how he returned to prison, the man walking down the road to where he was kept with a sign wrapped around his neck saying "Take me in, I escaped." When Steph heard the news, she knew who did it but never mentioned anything.

The way he handled talking to Jon after Jason got reintegrated was downright awful for Jon. Jason made it known he had kryptonite, and somehow managed to sneak it onto or into Jon without him knowing, Jason sharpening knives and cleaning guns in the same room he was in, always loading his gun with a lead encased clip, glaring at him the whole time.

Then there was Kate, the first person to reach out to him after he made his return, he obviously got protective considering she was "the cool aunt". Naturally, Maggie and Alice got a visit, not playing games.

He talked to Selina calmly about Bruce. They came to an understanding quickly, but only after he got reintegrated.

Finally, the unlikely friendship is Jason and one Harleen Quinzel. All he did was walk into Ivy's greenhouse and talk to her, making sure she knew exactly what would happen if she were to mistreat Harley, just like the Joker had. Ivy, for the first time in her life, just shut up and nodded.

The best part, nobody knew he was doing this. Shiva stopped showing up in Gotham without explanation and everyone was confused, David Cain was nowhere to be found (he was in a coma), Bernard got out of the same room as Jason as fast as possible and outright refused to go to the Manor for 3 months afterwards with nobody knowing why, Tarantula was never seen again (Dick was glad, though confused when people stopped hunting him down in Blüdhaven), Duke was at a loss for why crime was so much lower in the daytime than one would expect, Cluemaster served his sentence without complaint, Jon always got sweaty around Jason and Damian thought it was because of himself, Maggie was extra careful not to hurt Kate while Alice seemed more docile than one would think, Selina was normal, and Ivy made sure to check her actions and review them with thought sometimes right in front of Harley.

Absolutely nobody knew it was Jason (minus Steph with Cluemaster) and thought it was just weird occurrences. Jason proceeded like normal, and he would take what he did, and what he will continue to do in the future if necessary, to his second grave.

#jason todd #headcanon #damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #cassandra cain #dc comcis #stephanie brown #kate kane #selina kyle #poison ivy #harley quinn #duke thomas

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dilf-din · 10 months

Note

10 of the bed sharing prompts for RC please? 🥹💜

Hope you wanted 1500 words of Cassian pining his ass off!

Rebelcaptain (Jyn x Cassian)

WC: 1450

Warnings: none, fluff

10. there is only one good pillow and we both don't need the neck pain, so I guess we have to press our heads close together

Jyn and Cassian were no strangers to sharing beds. In fact, they usually volunteered to share with each other when there was a shortage on bunks. Bodhi complained one too many times about Cass snoring, so Jyn swapped with him to shut him up. They slept back to back, rump to rump. He watched her six, and she watched his. Just like everything else about them, it worked seamlessly, wordlessly, a trust that went both ways.

People knew better than to tease them about it, knowing Cassian would shoot daggers with his eyes and Jyn might actually throw a real one if anyone so much as insulated that there was anything beyond a working partnership between them. They were in the middle of the fight of their lives still. There wasn’t time to sit and doodle his name with hearts in her holopad. I mean, sure, she had thought about it, but that was a conversation for future them. Anything she might have felt, she stowed deep down. Compromising what they had was too great of a risk to the rebellion.

Cassian, on the other hand, was head over heels. The first time Jyn yanked a very whiny Bodhi off the edge of the bunk and pointed to the top spot that she had been occupying moments prior, Cass might as well have held his breath the entire night, not wanting to snore and drive her away too. Feeling the soft curve of her ass nestled against his and the sharp point of her shoulder was enough to drive his thoughts wild. His heart pounded in his chest as he willed for it not to echo through the whole room and give him away. K2 definitely knew and teased him about it endlessly when it was just the two of them.

“I swear if you ruin this for me, I’ll reprogram you,” Cassian hissed as they heard Jyn boarding the ship and tossing her pack to the floor next to Cassian’s. K2 put his hands up in defeat, and even though it wasn’t really possible, Cassian could tell he had a devilish grin pulsating through his circuits.

The mission went fine, as they usually did. Often, they were just sent to gather intelligence, secure allies, handle the diplomatic side of things. Their contact was an older gentleman who offered his fishing shack close to the shore for them to stay the night in.

“Storm’s rolling in, but she’s tucked up there on the cliff. Shouldn’t be a problem,” he smiled, handing a rusted keyring to Cassian and pointing in the direction of the pale yellow house in the distance. They thanked him before stepping out into the thick, late summer air. Rolling grey clouds were already blocking the last of the sun’s ray. Beneath the sky, the ocean churned, waves breaking messily on the deep brown cliffs and the beach below.

Cass and Jyn drew their hoods in tight before stepping into the sharp wind to finish the last leg of their trek. Small specks of rain pelted their cheeks while pockets of hot air broke against their faces. Jyn ducked behind Cassian’s shoulder as he tried to take the brunt of the gale. They struggled the last few hundred yards as the force of the wind seemed to pick up at a steady rate. Part of the cliff jutted out, shielding the shack from some of the tempest. Jyn was thankful for the momentary reprieve as Cassian forced the aged key into the dilapidated lock, twisting it and shoving with all his strength until the door caved inward, creaking on its hinges and allowing them to stumble inside. It took both of them pushing back against it to latch it once more. Cassian bolted the extra storm locks while Jyn flipped on the lights. They were met with a one room cabin filled with dusty furniture complete with faded fabric and loose springs. The shutters shook violently under the wind’s force, but they both reasoned that, if it had stood this long, it would survive the night surely. Cass tossed their bags down near the rocking chair adjacent to the door as Jyn crossed the creaky floor to flop an equally creaky bed. They had been on the move for almost two full days, not even having time to steal a nap earlier, and her exhaustion was starting to set in.

Cassian chuckled at the sight of her sprawled out on her stomach hugging the pillow to her face. He fished a clean set of clothes out of his bag and headed to the curtained off shower nestled in the left corner of the room. Jyn always chose to sleep whenever possible. Cass always opted to shower or read to decompress first if he could. Her soft snores filtered through the curtain as he stood under the stream of lukewarm water scrubbing his hair clean. The ends were starting to curl at the nape of his neck, and he wondered if it was time to schedule a haircut when they got back to base. The threadbare towels didn’t do much in the way of drying him off. His pants stuck to him in several places as he struggled to pull them on before Jyn turned to see him. Her snoring persisted though, even when he stepped on a particularly creaky board, even when thunder shook the ceiling beams, even when the mattress groaned as he settled beside her and wrestled the blanket from her grasp.

He had combed the cabin over and found no other pillows or even an extra blanket he could ball up under his head. Jyn had the only one in the whole house captive as she snored into it, unbothered by the tropical storm whipping the house around like a reed in the wind. He tried laying flat on the mattress, feeling as if the floor would be more comfortable than the lumps and springs pressing into his back. The house groaned like it was an old man, tired of being weatherbeaten, old bones aching for reprieve. Cass sighed and turned to his side facing Jyn in front of him. His hand moved to the edge of the pillow and tugged it carefully. It glided out of her grasp and to the middle of the bed. Cass inched forward until his neck felt a marginal sense of relief. The motion made Jyn stir slightly. She rolled on her shoulder, now nose to nose with Cassian. He froze. Part of him screamed to face the wall, giving her some privacy, but most of him wanted to stay, to brush the hair from her forehead and feel the warmth of her breath, a beautiful reminder for the breath in their lungs. But the smell of her even if she didn’t shower was such a comfort, that he decided to allow himself just a few more minutes in this pretend bliss. His hand came to rest tentatively between them as he drifted off to the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs, reaching their long fingers towards them, but unable to breach their safe haven for the night.

The few minutes he allowed himself turned into a full night’s sleep, both of them anchored to a single pillow on a musty mattress. Dawn’s light crept in through the thin curtains pressing a warm line to Cassian’s jaw like a lover’s gentle hand. His eyes opened to a sight he had only ever seen in his dreams, Jyn’s soft features illuminated in an even softer light, the edges of her cheeks and the tip of her nose kissed by the sun. He watched the way her pouty lips parted as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, each puff of air mussing the lock of her hair that curled around her cheek. For a moment, he was bold enough to wish that her eyes would flutter open, that he would finally know what his favorite shade of green looked like first thing in the morning under the cover of her thick lashes. He wished to see her lips curl into a smile upon taking in his face in front of her, and for this all to become habit. His cheeks flushed the same shade of pink as the clouds dotting the morning sky, happy to have survived the storm. Not wanting the daydream to end, he inched two fingers towards her hand and overlapped them, drinking in the warmth of her beneath him. He closed his eyes once more, hoping she slept for hours longer, stayed right there beside him, safe from the world.

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain fic #Rebelcaptain fluff #jyn x cassian #cassian x jyn

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emilykaldwen · 1 year

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Six Sentence Sunday

I got tagged by @mihrsuri! Enjoy some hottie Cassandra Baratheon.

The Lady Cassandra, eldest of the Four Storms, as the Baratheon daughters had come to be known, was to put it simply: beautiful. She was only a scant few months older than Helaena, older than expected for the eldest daughter of a Lord Paramount to remain unbetrothed, let alone unwed. Abby recalled the sour look on Lady Myrielle Penrose’s face at the news of the Baratheon arrival - Cassandra had been set to marry her brother before Bennard Penrose was caught with Lord Hayford’s daughter at a tournament in the Stormlands. Now, here the heir of Storm’s End stood, with her hair as black as raven wings, a storm of twisted curls and waves half pulled up in a thickly braided net of gold and pearl. Her features were sharp, giving her a cold sort of beauty that was ensnaring and intimidating, as if she were Argella Durrandon reborn. She appeared older and more worldly than Abby had expected. Her gown was gold satin, the bodice embroidered with black lace and appliques that evoked antlers and gave the illusion of armor.

tagging: @songsonacliffside, @acrossthesestars, @stannisfactions, @gwenllian-in-the-abbey, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @thesunfyre4446

#fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #cassandra baratheon is a whole ass problem #cassandra baratheon #like i'm really excited about Cass and Floris #I would die for Floris #and I'd ask Cass to step on me

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soleminisanction · 11 months

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There are very few ""headcanons"" out there that get a bigger side-eye from me than people who try to make Stephanie Brown into a Black girl.

Firstly because that is not a headcanon. That's just a whole-ass retcon created out of thin air. A headcanon would be saying she's a natural redhead like how Morgan Kohan played her on Batwoman, or that she's mixed-race because of the curly way some artist draw her hair. There's definitely flexibility in race interpretations for comics but looking at the blue-eyed blonde-hair white girl and declaring her "actually Black" is not one of them.

Secondly, because I have seen (and sometimes gotten) a lot of harassment from Steph fans aimed specifically at Tim's actual, canon Black love interests and teammates. I still seethe at the memory of this one CBR interview I read back when YJ2019 was running, where Brian Michael Bendis and David F. Walker were clearly there to talk up Naomi and Teen Lantern, and in the middle of their heart-felt conversation about the importance of representation for young Black girls, the interviewer butted in to interject, "But you know who I want to see more of?? Stephanie!!!" This going on while Steph fans on Twitter were going on racist tirades because the book dared to highlight the history of Teen Lantern, a character who was actually advertised to be a part of the book and a new member of the team, instead of giving them more of their white-blonde fav who had never been affiliated with YJ and was never part of the advertising.

Thirdly, she was created and so often written by Chuck Dixon, a blatant racist, and as a result there are so many little scenes of her that have uncomfortable racial elements to them. Like the one where he created a pair of Black girls just so Stephanie could call them "raging morons" to their faces and then later talk about how stupid and immature they are compared to her. (Which I am still convinced was Dixon directly criticizing the much better teen pregnancy subplot from Icon & Rocket). Or the borderline-blackface white savior ""demon"" where she wears a dead gnu and maybe accidentally calls herself a bitch in Swahili. (Disclaimer: I do not speak Swahili, and thus do not know how a sentence structure that should read "I am thorn" turns into "I'm a bitch" or "I'm crazy," but I checked that translation with three different robo-translators and got the same results so, shrug.)

And finally -- god, Steph is just, such a walking avatar of white women's privilege. Her entire thing is demanding that she get her way, never letting anyone tell her no, and still being treated by the narrative as a pure-hearted ""beacon of hope"" that everybody needs to protect and nurture at all times.

The inciting incident of War Games can be boiled down to, "A white girl got told no, and made it everybody else's problem." The first attempted Black member of the Batfamly fucking died during that event and got almost entirely forgotten because people only went to bat for the white girl who caused the whole mess and the white woman who got character assassinated to kill her off.

If Stephanie were Black, she wouldn't exist anymore. Fuck, if she were a brunette or just as butch as Carrie Kelly, she probably wouldn't exist anymore. She certainly wouldn't be Batgirl, I can't imagine Dan Didio replacing Cass with another woman of color.

And it's not even just her? Her father is also a very white character. It is incredibly easy to summarize Arthur Brown as a mediocre white man lashing out at the world for not handing him the success he felt entitled to. Take that petulant entitlement away from him and you lose his entire character.

I'm ranting about it on my own blog instead of picking a fight because everybody's entitled to their own fandom experience and blah blah, but this is just. Yeah. Ugh.

#I almost want to label this a squick but that's not entirely right #what actually squicks me out in the Bat-fandom is people feminizing Jason Todd #because there's objectively nothing wrong with that it just sets off my dysphoria #whereas I am not going to attack anybody for this one but it doesn't disgust or weird me out it just makes me frustrated or mad #please appreciate the representation of actual black girls in comics instead of projecting onto the whitest white girl in gotham plz & thx #try milestone milestone is really good even if they do need more female heroes #stephanie brown critical #ranting #racism tw #race talk tw #chuck dixon critical #your friendly reminder that chuck dixon is a racist #long post #dash stretcher #sorry

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caitlynmeow · 9 months

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Since you did Bela, can you do the the two remaining sisters for your prompt ?

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them:

Daniela is the baby of the family and it shows because she's such a brat who doesn't listen to anything or anyone she has no problems arguing with Bela right in front of their mother because she knows that Alcina is not going to say anything about it. She's also different from her sisters and I think this is really what gives her that distinctive personality and you can't just not love that, you know? Like, the girls are vicious hunters and Daniela especially has little impulse control (slashing that maid's face with a knife just because) but she's actually more tame and the weakest hunter out of the three. She has her own hobbies, she'd much rather be reading or looking after her flowers (she takes that very seriously) than go out and hunt. It made her weaker, which is why Alcina locked her up in the library to protect her because while she dotes on her youngest, she knows when things are about to get serious and that's when mama gets all protective. Cassandra- I love how fucking dramatic she is???? Waving that handkerchief is what did it for me I just knew this one is different and I was right. She's a brat, but unlike Daniela she doesn't keep to herself. Bela is appalled by the mess Cassandra caused in the cellars because this is just her brand. Chasing Ethan around going all "rawr" and literally just messing with him? Pure gold. I also live how her dramatic ass makes her flies scream when her mother is nearby just so that Alcina can make an entrance. You can easily tell she's a handful and the fact that their mother chose her to team up with tells you a lot. Alcina literally just lets her play and have fun, but she gets all serious and scolds her when it's needed. Idk but honestly Cassandra is the one who's closest to Alcina and she lives for the drama.

Why I don’t:

Doesn't apply. They're adorable cinnamon rolls who did nothing wrong their whole lives.

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

I loved Daniela arguing with Bela the most because yes this is obviously the baby and she's not afraid to run her mouth.

My favorite is how excited Cassandra gets when her mother is around like girlie is just beaming and literally just bouncing in excitement???? So precious.

Favorite season/movie:

Long live Castle Dimitrescu.

Favorite line:

Daniela: "Ugh! Ow, so mean!" Cassandra: "Look forward to what mother has in store for you."

Favorite outfit:

I think Daniela would rock any crop top. Cassandra in any type of skinny jeans is just too hot for us mortals to handle.

Head Canon

Daniela:

1- She loves her sisters!! She argues with them a lot, and she always feels like they don't take her seriously but she cannot imagine living without them. 2- Despite her personality, she actually doesn't like anything related to horror and gets scared easily. 3- She has an innocent mindset. She doesn't always assume the worst about people, often taking their word at face value which can end her in bad situations because she does fall for these things (its also because she's eager to help) 4- She admires her mother greatly, hoping that one day she can grow up and be just as pretty. 5- She loves pranks and practical jokes! She pulls them on anybody, doesn't matter if its a family member or a staff member. Bored Daniela is going to have her fun one way or another.

Cassandra:

1- She loves souvenirs! Like whether in game or any AU, she's the one who just loves to have a reminder. In the game she literally says that, and she often keeps hair and nails of her victims because hey why not, you know? I think she'd be the same in modern AU like any place they visit Cass is the one raiding these souvenir shops buying heaps of things she doesn't really need. 2- Cassandra is sensitive! And ironically, she's the one who is more guarded (esp with her feelings) so it's not easy to tell. But those who really know her know exactly her fragile her emotions are. 3- She is possessive. What's hers is hers and girlie doesn't like to share anything. 4- She gives off left-handed energy so I will confidently say that she's left handed. 5- She is a big introvert!! She prefers keeping to herself and recharging her social battery at home as opposed to being out all the time. Despite her wild chaotic energy, Cassandra needs her quiet time to find her balance again.

Unpopular opinion:

Daniela actually has more self preservation instincts than her sisters. She's the only sister who runs into hiding when the window is open because she knows she can't fight like that. So she does the right thing (unlike her sisters who just charge in not caring that they're freezing to death) So I really think she's the more sensible one who actually thinks before acting. Cassandra: She-- How do I say this, she enjoys being part of a family? With her especially, she's never alone. Alcina is literally with her, and she talks about calling Bela and she even call out to her sisters. I think this goes back to her being more sensitive which means she's more emotional than the others and really holds her family dear. She's always talking about them and being with them. She literally was never alone during the castle section like Alcina knows which daughter constantly needs her presence and we can all see that. It's just that Cassandra is actually a huge family person but she's good at hiding so only her mom and sisters know about it.

A wish:

;w; can we pls get a dlc with their lives in the castle before Ethan happened.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen:

Nope, been there done that. They still live in my heart though. Canon? I don't know her.

5 words to best describe them:

Daniela: funny - smart - resourceful - spoiled - quick to anger Cassandra: drama queen - sentimental - hunter - sassy - mama's girl

My nickname for them:

Daniela: Dani- baby Cassandra: Cass - Cassie

#thank you for sending this one in!!#i love talking about these girls lol #meme #house dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #re8 #headcanon #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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appleswan · 1 year

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I think that what a lot of comic book writers don't understand about the conflict between Bruce and Jason is what it's primarily about, because while yes the whole killing people thing plays a part it's not nearly as large of a part as people assume it to be. If it was about the act of killing both Damian and Tim would have been facing the same kind of damnation as Jason does. But they don't.

What Jason and Bruce's conflict boils down to is the conflation of the past with the present. Both parties are guilty of this, remembering what was and equating it to what is or what should be. For Bruce (and Dick) it's conflating Jason as Robin with Jason as Red Hood and seeing a child that he let walk down the wrong path. He see's what was (a great morally good hero) with what is (a morally grey Anti-hero) and thinks that Jason should be more like what Robin was which is impossible now due to many different situations and influences that have shaped Jason as an adult and as a hero. Meanwhile for Jason it's conflating the Bruce of the past with the Batman of the present, remembering who Bruce was as a mentor and father and seeking that in a Batman who has already mourned and grieved for a dead son and partner. There's more to that, including the hurt and betrayal of realizing that his death wasn't avenged, but I digress.

They are both so drastically different from when they worked together that they're near strangers. Their antiquated sense of who the other should be has driven a wedge between them that widens through near every interaction as they don't understand who the other person is as a person anymore. They've both been shaped by drastically different influences and circumstances that now there's not much that they can agree upon. That sense of past conflating with present is also why you see Dick fighting a lot more with Jason too, because he knew Jason as Robin.

There's a reason that Jason seems to get along more with people like Steph, Duke, and Cass, people who didn't know him as Robin. It's because they don't have this idealistic childlike version of him to hold onto a pedestal. They never grieved him so they don't hold onto those memories because there were none.

Personally I also think that a lot of the conflict at least on Jason's end comes from a poor sense of identity. He doesn't exactly know who he is or who he wants to be as a hero because he never really got a chance to discover that for himself unlike both Dick and Tim. When we see him start to pull away from Batman and begin that path of self-discovery he's blown up, and when he comes back to life there's people telling him what to do and urging him in certain directions. And while he has some time with the Outcasts I still think he's operating mostly under the influence of the League of Assassins and in the Prince of Gotham arc he's operating under a sense of obligation to Gotham (which I love don't get me wrong).

Furthermore a lot of critical years of brain development were stolen from him where he was either training, comatose, or catatonic. I don't think it's irrational to assume that he's going through those vital years of development just at a later date.

It's why I like the end of Task Force Z so much, we see him going on his own to discover who he is as a person outside of all these other influences and people trying to dictate who he's supposed to be. He's going on that journey of Self-Discovery that is needed so much

I also think that a lot of their problems could have been solved if Bruce had told Jason that the only thing that kept him from killing Joker after he died was diplomatic immunity and Superman. "It would have been too easy" my ass! You wanted too, Bruce, and you were going too.

Just my two cents idk I have a lot of thoughts about this and it kinda pisses me off how there always seems to be a fight between Jason and Batman + Batfamily in every Red Hood run. And it doesn't make sense because they're good and then they're not good and then they're fighting again. I just want some consistency (Please for the love of god don't get me started on how much I wish writers would drop the fucking crowbar thing). I just think that their conflict is a lot more nuanced (on both sides) than Jason does morally reprehensible things sometimes. I could be very wrong about this too, I'm just thinking tm

#jason todd #batman #red hood #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #dc red hood #character analysis #I think too hard about this sometimes #dc comics #dc batman #dc batfam #analysis

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milliestars4 · 7 months

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All the time they had

Azriel x Gwyn

Read on AO3

“They thought they had time - all the time in the world”

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, DepressionGrief/Mourning, vomiting

This was the fifteenth apartment they had looked at, and it was raining outside.

Melodic scatters of thin and fat raindrops tapped against the old, peeling windowsill - they would need to re-paint that, Azriel thought. Once they'd moved in. The windows themselves were lovely: a mahogany-looking wood stretched across the four large glass window panels, from which provided the perfect view of an elderly lady perched on a bench outside, despite the drizzle and dark clouds looming above.

In the singular bedroom, Gwyn was accordioning the carpeted flooring, crouching and running her slender fingers atop it, when Azriel walked in. "It's the wrong colour." she said.

"That's not a problem," Azriel said. "It matches the drapes."

"Well, I suppose you aren't wrong." Gwyn smiled, rose colouring her freckled cheeks, her teel eyes glimmering as Azriel smiled back.

"I think this is the one." He told Gwyneth. "It's lovely."

“It needs a lot of work,” Gwyn started, but was soon cut short as her husbands’ lips pressed gently against hers. She pulled back, “It needs time.”

"Something we have a lot of," he gazed down at her "we can do it together."

It was raining outside, the sky's tears hit the top of the umbrella as a numbness washed over him.

The vague scent of sodden mud underneath the squelching of dark shoes overwhelmed his ears.

There was a sting at his already-sodden cheeks - another tear falling, mocking the wish to bleed dry of them. Many tears fell after that.

The stings brought him back to reality - back to the view of the mahogany coffin littered in flowers and soil. A final goodbye that he'd rather face burning tears tenfold than to glance at once more. A final goodbye burning greater than the haunting of a piercingly empty sky - vacant of any light.

A firm, calloused hand grasped his shoulder, then another the other side - holding tight. A grounding sense amongst a drifting mind, numbness the only grasping emotion as a cry broke from a sister's lips. A sister that felt the great vacancy as vividly as he did. He assumed.

"Goodbye," he told the coffin, "I love you, always." he told the sky.

"The place is a work in progress." Gwyneth said, folding her arms. Azriel found her enthusiasm admirable - she hadn't even been affected by the horrors of moving day; the two of them had been stranded in the elevator for three hours. Gwyneth laughed during the entirety of the whole ordeal.

"I'd hope so," Cassian laughed from the place on their new couch - most likely basking in the smugness of helping to load it in. "I am surprised Az's germaphobe ass hasn't had an aneurysm yet."

Gwyneth huffed a laugh, moving to sit beside him, shoving at his shoulder, "you'd be surprised to hear that Azriel only had positive things to say about this place, much to your dismay."

"There's a first for everything, then," his brother replied, "shove that in his face every time he cries about getting paint on those overly expensive gloves he wears."

Azriel finally cracked a smile, "shove it up your ass, Cass. This is mine and Gwyneth's work in progress." he said as he took the last remaining place beside his wife, draping an arm over her shoulders, before placing a kiss to her temple.

"Just don't let little Gwynie do all the heavy lifting, okay?"

"I’m bored of this banter, where is my best friend?" Gwyn got up and wandered over to adjourning kitchen - small to some, perfect for those important.

Cassian stretched his arms above his head, letting out an exasperated sigh at the action, "they're calling themselves sisters, you know?" he smiled.

"So, I have heard." but Azriel could only smile at the thoughtfulness of his wife. And he couldn't wait for their time together, while watching her soft, joyous features twisting into gleaming smiles, and bright eyes.

The dim light of the musty motel room he was staying at was the first he'd seen since she left.

Cassian and Rhysand dragged his sorry ass out of their darkened apartment claiming he was unwell and needed to sort himself out.

The floral-prints scattering the old wallpaper had been his warping entertainment for the past five hours - with substances now running rampant through his body, he finally felt sane.Normal.

Who even used off-white, flowery wallpaper nowadays?

A key turned in his door, but his head was too heavy to move - by the sounds of a muffled fuck and approaching footsteps meant it was most likely one of his brothers there to lecture him; tell him that she wouldn't want to see him like this.

"It doesn't matter," he slurred, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, "she can't see me anyway." he said to no-one. He said to the world.

"Who are you talking to?" his older brother asked him as he emerged from the completely dark foyer, moving to crouch In front of his sprawled form against the wall.

His hair hadn't been washed since the hospital - shed run her perfect fingers though it for the last time that day - he couldn't wash her touch away. his shirt fit him like a second skin - drenched in sweat after his body flushed the last of his escape out of him, before he relapsed once more. His hands still clutched his spliff limply, between two fingers - unfinished and idle.

"I think you should stay with me for a bit, hey?" Rhysand placed a hand on his cheek, moving his face to look up at him, "so we can help you. Properly."

Azriel couldn't find it in him to respond, to accept the grace that 'help' would entail - if it meant her memory wouldn't chafe at his every pore, every cell he didn’t want it. He didn't want to lose the only thing he had left of her.

"Come on," Rhys stood, hauling Azriel up with him, supporting his waist so he wouldn't keel over. "Nyx is waiting in the car for you, too."

Azriel held her copper hair back for the fifth time that night as she hurled her guts up in their newly renovated bathroom.

"Nesta will be smug at the fact she was right about your light-weighted attributes." He laughed, stroking her back in methodical circles as she dry-heaved the remains of her stomach. Hopefully for the final time that evening.

"I am never drinking again." she said, her skin flushed and clammy, as she sat back on her heals - her shoes completely discarded in her hasty escape to the bathroom.

Azriel stood for a moment, leaving the room before shortly returning with a cool glass of water, and pressing it against her lips. "You're okay, Gwyneth, I will stay with you." he passed a gloved hand though her copper strands, soothing his wife as she regained her breath.

Azriel stumbled into Rhysand's bathroom, a drunken attempt to empty his stomach of all his mistakes, but he didn't make it in time. Instead, he vomited across the tiled flooring and immaculate matte-finished shower, crumpling into a ball onto the floor. Completely covered in it all.

Someone must have heard his commotion as footsteps sprinted up the two flights of stairs to the guest bathroom, almost knocking the door for it hinges in the entrance. Azriel was too tired, too ashamed to look up.

"Oh, Az," they sighed sadly, "let's get you cleaned up, hm?" Feyre's motherly voice sounded in his ears, before she took one of his scarred hands in hers, and grabbing her phone with her other.

Rhysand was home ten minutes later.

"I don't know how to make it better." Azriel whispered brokenly to Rhysand who sat next to him on the couch - Rhysand has cleaned both Az and the bathroom before dressing his brother and easing him to sit. "I only feel her."

"You will heal, you will get better, Az. This will get easier. With time."

#a court of thorns and roses #gwynriel

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