#I think in cass learning to be a person would learn to play

[starlooove]

Okay one (1) person said yes so like let’s talk about how joker specifically dislikes Duke for his role as the signal (as in the symbol of the signal pushing Bruce forward refusing to let him stop or hold him to lower standards etc.) and used him as a placeholder for baby Bruce in his wayne murder recreation that Duke got AWAY from and now dukes the signal parading around Gotham and tbh if I were a writer that’d be enough for me but it’s like. Genuinely the easiest tragic ending we could have for Duke. Like the ‘bad ending’ au or villain aus with Duke as joker junior (if isolated to Gotham and away from gnomon) just make SENSE! Like a lot of the justification for tim Jj outside the animated series is that he’s what got Bruce away from the edge when he was about to fall into jokers hands and kill (major over exaggeration to ME but. Whatever) but imo I feel like Duke would piss joker off worse bc Duke won’t even allow Bruce to get to that point ever. To me Duke should ALWAYS be ready to hold Bruce accountable, even to his detriment (you know how all the kids mirror different aspects of Bruce and at the ‘start’ of their relationships it’s cool bc he’s fw it but later on it gets flipped on him OR they actively resent it or both? I think Duke should absolutely be the responsibility mirror, the part of Bruce that doesn’t tolerate other heroes fucking around or giving up or being half assed, and I absolutely think Duke should flip it back onto Bruce AND resent it with his Interpersonal relationships. And ofc they all do this to an extent (partly bc god forbid someone writes a bat comic where the bat isn’t the only competent person ever) but I think Duke should specifically should be the kind who wouldn’t let Bruce (or himself) rest. You CHOSE to be Batman you CHOSE not to get a day off you CHOSE to push yourself as hard as you can stop slacking. (Yes this should have a negative impact with his relationships w/everyone else and it should cause friction with CASS SPECIFICALLY! Diff post for diff time) Sorry that’s so off topic I think this would Píss joker off bc remember he’s not just trying to get Batman to kill; he wants Batman to FAIL! And that’s in all his duties and responsibilities to his city so I think a physical manifestation of why he CANT and isn’t allowed to? Ugh. Anyways I think joker doing his best to snuff the light out of the city? To prove there’s worst things than death? To show Batman that his signal won’t always be there? C’mon…..CMONN

[hello-eden]

Never Hidden

Stephanie was bored. 

Bored

Bored

Bored

bored 

bored 

It had been a slow week. 

There was an Arkham breakout three weeks ago and they finally rounded up the last of them. there's always a few stragglers but everyone seemed to be checked off the list.

She wasn't assigned to any new cases and she's grounded from Missions outside of Gotham for bedazzling the Batmobile last month. It's only like another week but it still feels so long. 

She just finished her homework so now honestly she's just looking for something to do. She's honestly just messing with the bat computer until Jason walks in.

"What are you doing here” Jason says pausing after taking his helmet off, looking confused. "I thought you'd be off with Cass” 

“Grounded from outside missions” Stephanie replies turning the computer chair around “When do you get back in town”

“ Not even an hour ago” Jason says as he moves to her "What are you doing there, a case?”

 “Nah” Stephanie says that she turns back to face the back computer “ I don't got any Active cases, I looked at a couple of in Active cases but ehh”

 “So what are you doing” Jason finally reaches her and stops to look 

 “Honestly just playing around with the controls and snooping” Stephanie pulls up a file on the bat computer “Did you know Damien downloaded his Cheese Viking game onto the bat computer”

“Really” Jason laughs out

“Really, see” Stephanie says that she shows Jason the file “OMG this has been on here for 10 months

 “Bruce didn't even let me download stuff he uninstalled Zelda when I tried.”

 Stephanie and Jason continue to chat and work through the files on the back computer or at least the ones they have clearance to access. Eventually they get bored and start Looking through the Security camera

The only person in the house was Tim. He wasn't really doing anything exciting but he was on the phone. They watched him for a minute just checking to see what he would do.

They were about to switch off when he started yelling at whoever was on the phone. Both Stephanie and Jason were startled. They zoomed in and turned on the audio.

“I don't have time for your shit Ras.” Tim basically screamed into his phone. 

Stephanie's a little surprised that Alfred didn't come walking in to check what's going on.

 “you're the one who messed up, so clean up your own messes.” Tim then listens to Ras on the other line speak. "if you learned you know boundaries and actually tried for once then maybe Dan wouldn't be trying to Stage a coup.”

“ Why is Ras talking to Tim about a coup?” Jason asked as he looked over to Stephanie with a raised eyebrow.

 Jason thought he'd been away for a while but not long enough for this to happen.  

“I have no idea.  Every time he talks to me about Ras it sounds like he'd Rejoice if he dropped dead. I didn't even know Tim had his number let alone that they talked.” Stephanie started trying to think of any missions or crises that could have happened for the two of them to talk. 

“ he does not get that from me, the entire want for power thing is entirely your fault.“ Tim pulled out a second phone from the bag beside him and looked to be texting someone else as he was listening to the person on the phone. 

”I'm texting Dan as we speak I'll figure out what's going on that would make your controlling ass happy.” Tim pauses to listen to the other end of the phone.

 “Good.” Tim rolls his eyes and then hangs up the phone. 

“That man does not do anything useful.” Tim seems to say to an empty room probably not expecting to be spied on by two bored vigilanties.

 What the hell was that both Stephanie and Jason thought to themselves.

[casscainmainly]

My Top 10 Batgirl (2000) Moments

This is my list of top 10 Batgirl (2000) moments!! There were so many to choose from, but these are my personal favs :)). Counting down from 10 to my absolute favourite.

10. Volving

An absolute classic. Perfectly encapsulates what Cass does throughout the entire run, and more writers should play with Cass' use of language like this!

9. Beat Up Every Mob In Gotham

Perfect encapsulation of the early Barbara-Cass dynamic, and one of the funniest moments in the series. Just love the expressions and the way this shows so much of Cass' character.

8. Choosing to Write

The entirety of issue #2 builds up to this heart-wrenching moment. After delivering a dead man's final message to his wife, Cass sees the wife's reaction to the written message and decides to learn to write. A foundational moment for her character, and a nice motherly Babs scene too.

7. Alpha Redemption

Capping off issues 35 + 36, Batgirl unmasks herself to convince Alpha (an amnesiac villain) that he doesn't have to be defined by his past. Brilliantly displays her core belief that people can change, and the fact that her belief pays off makes this moment extremely moving.

6. For God's Sake

Possibly a controversial pick, but I really like this moment because it underscores some of the fundamental conflict between Babs and Cass. They love each other, but they don't always understand each other, particularly in regards to each other's disabilities. A painful moment that should have been explored more.

5. Fight For Your Life

My favourite Stephanie and Cass moment in this run. You can feel Cass' grief throughout this hallucination, but there's also so much hope and love (for Stephanie and for herself). It's an amazing conclusion to Cass' initial suicidal tendencies: instead of desiring death, she now actively fights to live.

4. Darknight Detectives

This interaction sums up a lot of Bruce and Cass' best moments. Cass' unwavering moral beliefs, Bruce's pride, their instinctive understanding of each other; they just get each other in a way few others do. I picked this one instead of the 'instinct/good answer' moment because it also marks Cass' development in her detective ability. From Moment 8 above to here, the confidence in her mental capacities has grown so much. She really volved!

3. Perfect For A Year

I mean of course this had to be here. These lines literally take up 90% of my brain space, it's an incredibly tense moment that illustrates Cass' desire to be perfect, her need to be useful and good. This issue is also just awesome.

2. You're... Not

Another absolute classic. Illustrates Cass' compassion and her belief that people aren't defined by their lineage, which is particularly personal to her, given her own dad. This struggle between good/bad, parent/child defines many of Cass' best stories.

1. Who Do You Think You Are? + Father's Day

What else would number 1 be?? Issue 33 is my favourite in the entire run, and the entire thing is stacked with moments that could fill up this list. I just love 'who do you think you are' because it's all of Cass' rage spilling out, and yet she still loves David Cain in her own complicated way (and he reciprocates, too). Then we have the ending, which is the BEST Bruce and Cass moment ever. The sparse, meaningful dialogue, the expressions, the reveal of the TITLE: comic book writing at its finest.

Honorary mention to the Shiva/Cass fight, which just narrowly missed out.

[piccolos-bigtoe]

I’m not really sure,,, how I feel about this to be honest,, but I’m trying new things and that’s what’s important. This isn’t explicitly my sniperscout wildwest thing I surpose but I drew it with that in mind. I have the draft for like the first part halfway thru, all I gotta do is finish it then edit it. I’ll probably post some of my notes here of it sometime.

I fr went so hard on the characterization notes,, I’m proud of myself. I’m gonna draw tomorrow probably and try and do their references and notes and stuffs maybe.

This drawing kind of looks a little sad, I think, but don’t worry scouts not actually sad. The way thag I imagine scout is that he is like, very loud and opinionated on everything, even things he knows nothing about, and is usually pretty ‘honest’ about what he thinks (sometimes the annoying “brutally honest” way where it’s not so much honesty ws it is being an asshole), unless it comes to himself. Like when it comes to himself he’d sort of be a liar, whether it’s how he feels or stuff he’s done because even if he wouldn’t ever admit it he REALLY cares about what people think about him… unconventional emotions get hidden with either smugness or anger, and he boosts his ego with stupid lies about feats he’s pulled. He’s like the kind of guy that talks and jokes a lot as an attempt to hide his feelings woah emo…. 🖤

In contrast Sniper to me would be the type of guy that doesn’t really have a lot to say, but he is truly an honest person about himself and what he feels when he does speak, he’s never been one for socializing so he learned to not really care about how others perceive him to a huge extent. He wears his heart on his sleeve almost but like in a more quiet sort of way. Okay,,, I’m ending my rambling I’m getting really sleepy

I’ve never been a huge opposites attract fan to be honest, but I think the way I set up sniper and scout in my mind works for me.

I’ve been in an art rut lately but I think I am coming out of it, I hope, I took a few days break to like, play video games and read and i think it helped,, I finished my first run of Fallout New Vegas a bit ago (NCR ending), and started a new one. I got a multiple companions mod (the JIP one that adds like, a different interface) and it’s pretty cool. I’m rocking with Boone and Veronica and Arcade and Cass and EDE. I’m debating on who to send to stay back at the lucky 38 cause I feel like I have too many people in my group.. Urgh I like them all though…. Boone is my ride or die fr though.. he stays for sure. Same with EDE.

I played it on very hard + hardcore mode expecting some new game + stuff but all I got was this stupid achievement.. boooo. Whagever it’s okau. I had fun.

[writingsbychlo]

when you hold me | azriel

summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it. word count; 17,202 notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.

so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?

he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.

even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.

he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.

not really someone who cuddles, y’know?

now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.

cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.

so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.

all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.

rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.

a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.

mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.

with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.

going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.

he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.

he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")

he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")

he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.

basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.

and then you step into his life.

it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.

in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.

nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.

mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.

elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.

feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.

and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.

and he doesn't have anyone.

everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.

hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.

behind them is you.

azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.

you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.

his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.

your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.

he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.

azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.

(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.

he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien. 

azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.

you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.

is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?

phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.

his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.

he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.

"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."

"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.

you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."

he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.

"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”

your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.

he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”

you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-

and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”

was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time. 

you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”

“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”

“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”

he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.

“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.” 

“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you. 

then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek. 

and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.

“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.

“I'd like that, very much.”

“until tomorrow, then.”

you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.

hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps. 

your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own. 

his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone. 

however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came. 

his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.

he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.

azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.

“something got you all wound up, brother?”

“bite me.”

“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”

there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart. 

“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.” 

you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.

cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.

he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.

“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-” 

you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.

he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.

your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.

“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;

“mhmm..”

nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.

you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.

the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little. 

“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.” 

“told you so.”

your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.

“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”

“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway. 

“you think I don’t know how to fight?”

“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”

“you can tell? how?”

“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”

you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.

“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”

“uh-huh.” 

“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”

he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly. 

you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.

what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.

“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”

“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”

“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”

azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough. 

he choked that down, too.

“what would I get out of that deal?”

“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.

unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.

“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”

brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.

it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.

you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.

“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.

“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”

a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence. 

“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”

he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.

you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around. 

azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.

for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.

he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.

every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.

except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.

azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them. 

he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.

even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.

everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.

he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.

he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.

he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.

after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.

but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.

it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.

it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.

the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough. 

you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side. 

there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.

flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.

the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.

“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”

they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried. 

blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen. 

stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.

cassian hissed as he returned.

nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.

neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.

over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.

cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.

“let me look at your ankle, cass.”

you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.

“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“let me look.”

“no.”

“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”

silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.

he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.

swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.

“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”

“what about you?”

“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.

cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.

“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”

your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.

“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”

‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that. 

your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.

“you’re all done.”

he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.

“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”

your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.

something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.

“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”

the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.

cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping. 

“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”

he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.

the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.

you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body. 

you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry. 

settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.

settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one. 

you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath. 

you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.

he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.

he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck. 

he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it. 

you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.

instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly. 

you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.

nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.

“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”

“where’s azriel? cassian?”

her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”

you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.

“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a  good dream.”

“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”

“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.

“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.” 

“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.

“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.

he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.

“az, how are you feeling?”

“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.

he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier. 

letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.

when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction. 

and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.

“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.

“I trust that won’t happen again.”

you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.

“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”

“that is your job, is it not?”

the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.

“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”

he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.

“(Y/N)-”

“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”

look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.

it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.

the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.

hurt.

azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.

hurt.

who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.

hurt. hurt. hurt.

you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.

his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.

hurthurthurthurth-

his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.

“what happened?”

“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”

lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.

“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”

“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

“you’re not just-”

“lucien, please.”

he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.

“what was that?”

“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.

“how bad was it?”

“bad.”

“what. happened?”

he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.

“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”

cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.

“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”

“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”

his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.

you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.

that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.

you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.

he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.

two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.

“hello.” 

azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.

“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”

lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him. 

slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him. 

accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-

his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.

he would talk to you after he’d eaten.

the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.

he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see. 

“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."

he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.

“please, don’t shut me out.”

you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little. 

“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”

“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”

you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”

you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.

“I like to be touched,”

he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.

“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”

you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.

“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.

“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”

you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.

“you know, we all have our love languages.”

“our what?”

“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”

“five?”

“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”

“what about feyre?”

“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”

“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”

“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”

he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense. 

“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”

somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.

“what is yours?”

“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”

you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind. 

as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”

he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.

you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty. 

he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore. 

almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.

no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.

the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.

he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground. 

he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it. 

he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;

standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.

“az. would you like to come in?”

“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.

your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.

“can I..?”

you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.

“do you want to lay with me while I read?”

“you mean, like we did that night?”

“if you want.”

he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.

slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.

one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.

shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.

“I-.. I’m scared.”

“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated. 

he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.

and then his shoulders did.

his chest.

he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.

he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often. 

he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.

he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave. 

and you let him.

every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.

when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-

it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.

there was no way he could move now.

he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.

it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.

when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was. 

you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.

instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.

“you stayed.”

“is that okay?”

“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

“I haven’t slept that well ever.”

azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.

you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”

he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.

eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.

but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room. 

you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down. 

“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”

he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.

“I was sleeping.”

“sleeping?”

“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”

“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.

“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.

something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.

his head spun. 

right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him. 

he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.

he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.

and so, it continued just like that.

you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day. 

you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.

and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.

more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.

it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason. 

he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.

he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.

you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second. 

“az, you’re back! how was it?”

“shit.”

“did you get it done?”

“of course.”

“good. join us. do you want a drink?”

he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.

you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again. 

“az, are you hurt?”

it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.

he didn’t care, not anymore.

“no.”

at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.

he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor. 

he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs. 

he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.

rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.

“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”

“whiskey, three fingers.”

“you got it.”

you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.

you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily. 

“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.

“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.

“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”

“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.

rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.

sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.

“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”

“what?! no, we were not!”

“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..” 

cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.

his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.

his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.

for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story. 

he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him. 

he’d never felt so settled.

that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.

he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled. 

“big step you took tonight.”

“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”

“I’m proud of you.”

his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.

“what?”

“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”

he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.

you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”

he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile. 

in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop. 

in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked. 

after that night, a line had been crossed.

he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.

he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.

you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head. 

you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.

“what’s wrong, angel?”

“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional. 

“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”

the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.

“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”

his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.

azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.

you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you. 

he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal. 

“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him. 

“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”

“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”

“I- uh, okay.”

“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”

“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"

“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”

you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement. 

“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”

“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”

rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.

“see you soon.”

he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand. 

on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”

“more than alright.”

“want to tell me about it?”

“not yet.” 

“in that case, good luck.”

az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.

and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.

lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.

now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.

azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept. 

he simply couldn't get enough. 

after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.

you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.

you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.

you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.

and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.

whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.

and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too. 

cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.

rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too. 

but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch. 

and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.

he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair. 

it had been utterly perfect.

he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him. 

he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest. 

and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home. 

and that terrified him.

it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.

he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.

you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.

“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”

you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.

“you knew?”

a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face. 

he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it. 

rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.

then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.

he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been. 

he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.

“az..”

he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.

“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”

he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.

you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him. 

“azriel.”

he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.

“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”

“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”

“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand. 

“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.

and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.

the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.

he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging. 

there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely. 

he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.

it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised. 

“want to spar about it?”

his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding. 

cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.

then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.

he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.

no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.

“she’s my mate.”

“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.

he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one. 

“you knew as well?”

“yeah.” 

azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.

instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.

“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond  had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”

azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning. 

he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison. 

his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”

“this morning, when we..” 

azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”

“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”

then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.

“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”

he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment. 

“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”

“and?”

sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind. 

“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”

“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”

that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.

“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”

“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel. 

he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.

“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”

“are you serious, azriel?” 

rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.

“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”

“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”

his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him. 

“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”

“harsh, cass.”

“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”

azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.

“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”

something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.

his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.

the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.

if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..

“oh, gods..”

“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.

“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”

“you deserve it!”

he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.

he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.

“do you think I should-”

“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”

“OKAY, OKAY.”

it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog. 

once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts. 

he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.

he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.

he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him. 

“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”

his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.

“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.

“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”

“az, she’s not in there.”

“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.

“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.

“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?” 

elain only shrugged once more. 

“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.” 

she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.

he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears. 

“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”

she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.

so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him. 

it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“not really.”

“talk about it.”

“okay.” 

he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.

“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”

“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”

“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”

elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”

he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now. 

“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”

“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”

her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.

that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again. 

then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked. 

the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.

the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him. 

for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.

he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating. 

he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood. 

he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.

azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it. 

but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.

it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. 

his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.

the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.

his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.

a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-

“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse. 

concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.

“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”

that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else. 

elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.

“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it. 

“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”

gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.

before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.

“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”

the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself. 

he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.

the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.

for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about. 

you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.

as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.

you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.

“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”

he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”

you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”

well, there goes that relief.

his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.

he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.

there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”

“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”

you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time. 

he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks. 

one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.

“I’m so sorry, angel.”

“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”

he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning. 

“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”

you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.

“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”

he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”

“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”

“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”

you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently. 

“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”

“you sure you still want me?”

“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”

“I love you.”

azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.

you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.

“you ready for bed?”

“..yes.”

“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”

“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.” 

he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.

while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck. 

it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled. 

“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”

“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.

love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him. 

you shifted again.

“az, honey, please-”

“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.

“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”

“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”

pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.

“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”

“no winning with you, huh?”

“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.” 

he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you. 

with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”

“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.

“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”

“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”

“much better.”

“we can cuddle now.”

he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.

after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.

azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.

“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”

his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.

it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted. 

it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.

“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a spooky Tim au that I think you would like.

Tim is not human and has never been. He knows this. His "parents" know this. The rouges know this. However, none of the Bats but one know this. When around the Bats, Tim looks like a Normal Human. His skin is pale but does look like flesh and his eyes are weirdly pale but they still look like eyes. His hair has a weird texture but its prob just his shampoo, so surely the slightly off texture in how his skin feels is just his lotion, right? His teeth are a bit sharp but still human teeth and his movements a bit odd, but what Bat doesn't move strangely?

However when they aren't around, it is a totally different story. His skin changes to look like porcelain and his eyes are so very clearly made of painted glass. His hair is made of string and twine died black and when its fist or foot lands a blow it feels like being hit by a sand bag and not flesh and bone. His teeth are made of shards of broken glass and his movements are far to Jerry yet smooth, like a puppet on strings that glides through the air in a horrible mimicry of walking. This Thing that wears the Robin Suit is Not a human, as long as it isn't around Batman or Nightwing. When either are there, The Rouges can see the shift. The way it suddenly looks so *human*. But once Batman leaves it shifts back into being a *thing*.

Tim is only a Thing when he is either scaring the rouges or Truly Comfortable. Young Justice knows that Tim is not a human and he doesn't hide it from them. There is never any fight about his civilian identity because he freely tells them, "I am a Thing made from Glass and Sand and Fabric and Magic. He is not a Person nor has he ever Been A Person. He is not some poor sap who was transformed into a Thing, he is a Thing that was created and then given life with Magic.

As for how Jack and Janet acquired a Thing like Tim, well. They're archeologists. They dug up an old tomb, found a coffin that was chained closed and bolted to the ground and like every White Person In A Horror Movie, they opened it without a second thought. Inside they found an ancient, cursed doll. It came to life when Janet cut herself trying to clean off one of its broken glass eyes to get a better look and the blood fell on it. The pair then decided this was a lot easier than child birth and kept the cursed doll, naming it Tim.

My gods. I love the ending of this cause it gives off the same vibes as "humans will adopt anything" tropes in space travel fiction.

I have one caveat with the Bats not knowing. I hc that Cass knows. Tim's body language is too strange for her not to notice something.

Everything else? Beautiful. It would be hilarious if people keep trying to tell the Bats. Here's a possible scene:

Goon: *points finger at Tim* "That thing beside you isn't human!"

Tim: *fakes having his shoulders drop as he turns slightly away in dejection*

Dick: *absolute fury as he beats up the goon*

Tim: *decides not to get revenge after seeing what Nightwing does to the person*

or

Rogue: "I'm telling ya, whatever he is got string hair, porcelain skin, and doll like movements to him."

Batman: *hums, takes them out, proceeds to Batcave*

Tim: "What's up, B?"

Bruce: "[] said that you look different when we're not around you."

Tim: *tilts his head* "I mean, I like playing up the rumors that the Bats are cryptids, demons from hell, spirits, or whatever when I can. I add effects to my costume to increase the spook factor."

Bruce: *nods and turns away to end the conversation for now*

Tim: *makes plots to ruin that rogue's life for a bit as revenge and a message*

I'm curious how wounds and scars look on Tim's porcelain skin. How does he heal? Does he even have a spleen?

I'm also down for two avenues:

Jason doesn't know like the rest of the Bats. After they start to become close to each other, Jason retaliates against folk who try to demean Tim. He tries to hide the comments from Tim until he learns that the teen finds it funny and ramps up the rumors on purpose. Then he switches to pulling pranks on people with Tim to create more wild theories and gossip.

Jason finds out at TT, and Tim ensures no one actually believes Jason. Perhaps he even starts the notion that Jason was affected by the Pit. It drives Jason bonkers that no one is trusting him or accepting his words for what they are.

[supershot73199]

Hey so this is kinda inspired by @virgamsysxvolumes lucky rush au but it's more my own twist on the bioshock inspiration. Actual prompt / idea below the cut

Ok so this would be a good parents au where Danny revealed himself to his parents shortly after the series (excluding phantom planet) and they were super supportive and asked for his help in learning more about ghosts. He also managed to track down Dani and brought her back to Amity only to learn that the ecto dejecto was only a quick fix. Eventually with Frostbites help they cure Dani but the only way is to essentially turn her into her core and let her form a new body in a special pod only she would be a baby. Now at first Jack and Maddie were going to fake a pregnancy and pretend she was Danny's and Jazz's sister however she and Danny bonded while they were looking for a cure and she accidentally called him Daddy. Danny was smitten and decided he would not pretend to be her brother and would be her dad.

The fentons pass it off as an invention gone weird that basically made a baby from Danny with no mother and Amity just shrugs at the Fenton weirdness and accept baby Dawn (She asked Danny to give her a new name before she was turned to a baby and I think that would be a cute name Danny would come up with.) Now 4 years later Danny is 19 or 20 and Dawn is 4 years old and Danny had been studying inventing like his parents and medicine from Frostbite. At Dawn's most recent check up Frostbite gave Danny one as well only to discover that Danny has been absorbing more ecto-energy than his core can handle because he is a primordial in the making (yes this is master of space Danny). So the solution to this is two-fold he has to move to another dimension with less ecto-energy and he has to where a special suit in his ghost form that frostbite and his parents made together. Which is this.

Just without the drill and maybe a little more astronaut themed.

So eventually they pack up Danny and Dawn and find a new dimension with a city where they can live without people asking too many questions. Gotham city. With the number of vigilantes already there Danny won't feel obligated to go out and fight and he can finish his degree at Gotham U and start a business making and selling meta specialized medical equipment and other helpful inventions. (But no weapons.)

So Danny and Dawn with their new identities and parents/grandparents, aunts and uncles (blood and honorary) settle in pretty well with Danny and Dawn going out on moonlit walks in Ghost form. Thus the people of Gotham meet Big Daddy and his little starlight.

Now as for who I would ship with Danny I personally love DannyxCass or Dead silent as I think the current ship name for them is.

So maybe she meets the single dad Danny at college or at the park for the first time but they don't really hit it off until Danny signs Dawn up for a ballet class that Cass teaches.

Meanwhile Bruce and the more paranoid Bat's are trying to find out more about this tank like Meta that the public named big daddy (I imagine people heard Dawn calling him Daddy and No one ever asked his name so they start calling him that as a sort of meme) after he beat down a feral ManBat who tried to go after Starlight. (They heard Danny call her that in the suit and ran with it)

Basically we have creepy tank man and his glowing ghostly daughter on one side and sweet Cass and Danny romance with little gremlin Dawn trying to play matchmaker on the other.

Also what I think the other bat's think of Cass new boyfriend.

Dick is full overprotective big brother.

Jason after seeing the way that Danny is trying to help the underprivileged and the fact that they are like something out of a Hallmark movie ships it.

Tim is paranoid about this stranger and is back to his old habits(stalking) to find answers.

Steph is full Gung ho wing women she will be Cass bridesmaid God dammit.

Damien starts off hostile thinking there is no way he's good enough for his favorite sister until he meets Dawn and suddenly he is declaring that Cass needs to hurry up and marry him or else he will because he will have that adorable little girl in his family no matter what.

Duke is wary at first because he hadn't ever seen someone who glows as bright as Danny and Dawn but the more time he spends with them the more he realizes that the bright glow is a safe and protective aura and that it reaches out and covers everyone Danny cares about. (Danny has a ghostly aura he subconsciously covers people he cares about with that let's him react to danger faster)

Alfred is already planning out weddings and birthdays. He always expected Dick to be the first one to give him Great grand babies but he's not complaining.

Bruce much like Dick is full over protective dad maybe he even borrows one of Alfred's guns to try to intimidate Danny.

Barbara who is both a big sister figure and a almost mother like figure to Cass is absolutely delighted. (It doesn't hurt that Danny made a set of leg braces that can read nerves to allow her to walk naturally again without needing surgery)

Selina adores the two and thinks they make a cute couple.

Also I think it would be funny if after all of Bruce, Dicks, and Tim's paranoia Danny just strait up tells them that he is from another dimension and even offers to let them tag along on the next visit to his parents so they can do a proper background check (which freaks them out because they hadn't told him they were doing that. At least until while they are discussing it and if that was evidence that Danny is more than he appears Cass says she told him that they were doing a background check on him. Not that Danny didn't already know but it helps the suspicion.)

But yeah part neutral Meta and park Hallmark romance.

Also maybe a side plot of Jazz coming to this dimension and maybe she has a relationship with Supergirl because I haven't seen that before.

[lure-of-writing]

Done

Summary: you are done with the way Cassian treats you

word count: 2k

There you were yet again. Alone. Cassian had been doing this a lot recently. Avoiding you that is. It never used to be like this. In the past you couldn’t get him to leave you alone, he was obsessed with you. That was until your work took you to the continent for almost a year. Nine months if you were to be exact. Sure being away from the people you loved wasn’t the best situation to be in but yet you didn’t let that stop you. Often after a long day of playing in the world of politics you would return to your room to write each person of the inner circle a letter. Cassians was always the first to be written and sent out. The rest followed soon after. Since you physically could not be the night court you tried to find ways to remind those you loved that you did in fact love and miss them dearly. Oftentimes sending little items that reminded you of them. Hand made emblem for Rhys to stamp his papers with, beautiful paints that weren’t available in the night court for Feyre. So on and so forth. 

At first everything was fine but the more time you spent on the continent the less you heard from Cassian. The first thought that crossed your mind at the lack of communication from Cass was that Rhys put him to work. Giving him something to focus on other than your lack of presence. With a quick letter to the high lord you quickly found out that was not the case. He in fact was not currently tending to anything other than his recurring requirement to his court. This was strange. 

Something you had learned in your time with Cassian was that sometimes you just simply did not have enough energy to deal with another person, let alone have a conversation with them. So you slowed down the letters you were sending but never failing to remind him that you loved him and couldn’t wait to be home once more and if you were able to visit then you would. Sometimes he would acknowledge the letters you sent, sometimes he wouldn’t. If he sent a letter to you he would oftentimes  disregard what you said about missing him, simply brushing past what you said as if it held no significance. This didn’t happen right away of course, no, it was a slow and minute thing that happened over time. When he first stoped sharing your feeling of longing and want to be with the other person you didn’t mind, figuring that he was enjoying some time alone without you but by month six you were concerned, exhausted, sad and overall hurt and frustrated. This lead you to calling him out on his actions in your next letter. “What is going on? We barley talk, when I offer to come visit you say no, when I ask for you to come here instead you say no. Ive tried just about everything to see you but yet you never do the same for me. I find it quite ironic how every time I think I will have enough time to return home you suddenly are very busy, but yet when I ask Rhysand if that is the case it isn’t. You never have enough time in your days for me but you always have more then enough time to spend with your friends. You will pick literally anything and anyone else over me. Why is that? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not good enough? If you don’t feel the same or want to be in this relationship then please let me know because I can’t do this.” 

Cassian obviously talked you down from the ledge of a breakup reassuring you that he did in fact love you; he was just busy with everything happening within the inner circle especially since he was the peacekeeper between Rhysand and Nesta. Bregurgenly you accepted his answer not without reminding him that what he did was not ok and he needed to change his behavior. Immediately he agreed stating that he saw how it was a problem and needed to do better. 

But better never came. Three months had passed since that argument and almost a month more had passed since you returned home. It was mind blowing how even upon your return back to the night court Cassian never came to see you. Not once. Once again something or someone else always needed him more. With a defeated heart and building anger you accepted each of his excuses in hope that he would one day return the effort you were putting in the relationship. That day never came. Rhysand wanted to see you after your long excursion across the ocean and to a foreign land. He also needed a report from you in full but that was neither here or there. Once at the river house Rhys greeted you with a big smile and open arms, inviting you into a very much needed hug. “How are you my friend?” the question was asked as your high lord led you to his office “I’ve been better but you know how that goes.” Rhysand frowns at your answer “Continue on. What do you mean by that?” sighing you deflate in the chair across from him. “It’s Cassian. I asked him when we could see each other and he said he was busy this weekend and last but I know he was just here. I can smell him. If he was just here, why couldn’t he have stayed and finally acknowledged my existence for the first time since I’ve gotten home?” Rhys simply nodded his head in understanding sensing you had more you needed to get off of your chest. He was right about that. “And then when I asked about seeing him this weekend he said he was busy celebrating the new Valkyries. Like seriously? C’mon. You can’t spare five minutes of your day to say hi, how are you?” 

“I see why you have been better.” with another heavy sigh you nod while closing your eyes to stop the burning sensation of oncoming tears from succeeding in their mission. “Not even that but he doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I will try and try and try but it's like he couldn’t be less interested in what I have to say. If I don’t say anything first we would never talk. Gods, we don’t talk. Actually now that I think of it I can’t remember the last time we had a conversation that lasted for more then five minutes. That is when he can pencil me into his very busy schedule.” You felt Rhysands observing eyes take note of your completely exhausted appearance. And the drained feeling radiating off of you. It wasn’t from the trip. He knew that much. “Y/n my dear you need to talk to him about this.” the first sigh of your impending breakdown was your wobbling lip being pressed inbetween your teeth and the deep breath you take to stop yourself from crying. It was not successful as tears freely made their way down your cheeks. Rhysand saw it then. You were not angry, or frustrated you were simply done being treated this way. You knew what you needed to do but your heart hadn’t let you. “I have talked to him about this. All I do is talk and talk and talk.” A broken laugh makes it way out at how completely stupid you feel. “I’m done talking. He has shown me time and time again just how exactly he feels about me. You prioritize the people you love. And I am no longer a priority.” Finally opening your eyes you see those stunning violet eyes staring back. At first it felt like pity but the longer you looked the more you recognized the true emotion displayed. Empathy. Oftentimes you forgot Rhys could look into people's minds but as you felt the gentle nudge in your head asking for permission to see what had been going on you allowed it. A few moments pass as he shuffled through your memories before he finally retreated to his own mind. “Y/n my dear you don’t deserve that. You know this right.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to verbally respond to him so instead you simply nodded your head while trying to hold back the tsunami of tears fighting to be released. “I know.” you whispered 

Getting Cassian to yourself was no easy feat. The first few failed attempts resulted in getting Rhysand involved as much as you hated having to do so. But this conversation was much needed and you knew you would never feel content with your decision unless you were able to talk with the male face to face. There in that exact office where you had cried to your closest friend about your relationship being in shambles is where you now stood in front of Cassian who was silently sitting in the chair in front of you. “We should break up.” That finally got his attention. As soon as Rhysand revealed that the pretend meeting was just a ploy to get him in the same room as you, Cassian had shut down completely. Now he was staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I have tired and tired to get you to care about me and I am done trying. I am tired.” Cassian tried to speak but with the raise of your hand he was quick to close his mouth. “Everything else in your life has taken more priority in your life than me, and I am not saying that I am the most important person in your life because I am not. But I have been begging for you to give me even an ounce of your attention and you can’t even do that so I am done. I am done begging you to allow me in your life, hell to even want me in your life in the first place. I will not continue to beg and plead for you to show me you care because it is quite obvious that you don’t and that you haven’t for a very long time. This is not how you treat someone you love. I would know because I would never do the same to you.” Cassian stood abruptly closing the distance between the two of you causing you to take an equal about of steps back from him. Seeing the hurt flash in his eyes brought you a sense of disbelief. Only when you are about to walk away does he finally show interest in you again. How ironic. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I can do better, I can be better.” His whisper of words are overshadowed by the laugh falling from your lips. “That is what you have been saying for months and yet you never change. Sure you do better for like a week and then everything is back to normal. It's time to face the music, Cassian. This relationship is over. It has been for months. I was the only one putting in effort and you honestly can’t believe that I would continue to stick around when you don’t do the same. Relationships are two-sided and you know that but yet I was all alone.” 

Swiftly you move past him and his outstretched arm. Only stopping once you reach the threshold of the doors. You don’t look back as you speak “I hope you are a better partner for Nesta.” Cassian remains silent as you pull open the door. Rolling your shoulders back you stand tall as you make your way down the hallway lined with Rhysand and Azriel. Finally you had set yourself free from the person who valued you the least. Outside of the River house you took in Velaris one last time. Life on the continent was calling and you couldn’t fathom telling it no. Something in your soul had changed walking out of that room. Something no male could ever take away from you again. Happiness. And for the first time in your life you finally understood what it meant to put yourself first.

[strawbuddy-luv]

Tim Drake would love video games sm tho, and I do not see that represented enough.

He'd be a total nerd about it to. He'd rant and rant and rant about all the games he's played and all the cheats and the secret cut scenes and the hidden lore. He'd be a game theorist for sure, probably has a YouTube account dedicated to it since he's such a little detective. He knows the true lore of FNaF.

He'd definitely speed run minecraft, rp to probably. First person shooter? How about first hand experience. FNaF fanatic oh my God he'd LOVE that game so fucking much. Absolutely a Sonic kid, like you cannot convince me otherwise. Mario less so but you knows hes probably played every single game anyways. Pokemon? Every single one memorized down to their exact coloration. Stardew valley? Do i even have to ask. Animal crossing? Perfected his village, villagers and all. Zelda? I cannot prove it but he has a lino Cosplay somewhere and he's worn it for under cover missions. He'd slay in DTI, have like 5 different mansions in Bloxburg, defiantly played Royal High until the capitalism became to close to the real world, probably has hundreds of avatars to. An expert at games like fnf has played half the mods to ever be made for that game. He's been playing fortnite since it's release. He'd have one of the top scores ever in subway surfers. He'd download those "complete your restaurant" type games and finish them in two weeks and it'd only take that long because the game forces him to wait sometimes. Candy crush is his bitch 100%. He'd download mobile games and finish them in a day and then keep redoing them till he's perfected his method. He has played and replayed countless driving based games, can learn almost any new one in 6 minutes. Going back to the speed run thing I think he'd just enjoy speed running games in general, and gridning. He'd love minecraft so much omg-. Last of us? Played. Iron Lung? Played. Cuphead? Played. Detroit Become Human? Played. Kindergarten? Played. Sallyface? Played. Splatoon? Played. He'd love small games to I just am not that into video games to know any to list- :').

I mean think about it. Going off the "Tim's parents are never home" version of him, he'd have so much time to just sit around and play video games. He has the money to buy them and the time to spend getting ungodly good at them. He'd have amazing equipment, and it'd give him some sort of community even if he doesn't really interact with it personally. Like if he's not out stalking Batman or at school, he's playing a video game. Even after he starts working for Batman, he'd overwork himself to the bone and he'd STILL find a way to go pro gamer in-between. Probably for like 0.5 seconds whenever he's got to stand up to get himself another energy drink.

Like please, video game nerd Tim Drake on my knees begging you add this to your stories and headcanons. Have him introduce other batfam members to video games. HAVE HIM INTRODCUE BRUCE TO CANDY CRUSH AND MAKE THEM GET INTO A COMPETITION ON WHO CAN GET TO A HIGHER LEVEL FASTER. He shows Damian animal crossing. He gives Jason a gaming console and like 50 different shooter games and one copy of stardew valley as a joke and did not expect Jason to get so into it. Him Cass and Steph would love those Roblox horror games. He'd force the whole family to start having game nights and they'd have a world on Minecraft that has the most insane lore you've ever heard. Like please give me more video game nerd Tim and tell me your headcanons on what games he'd like and what he'd introduce different batfam members to in the comment I am begging you.

[wizardprime]

the batfamily play minecraft

alfred: i don’t believe he can physically interact with computers

barbara: there’s always one person in the group who can do redstone and here it’s her. builds all the farms everyone loves having at the beginning of the game like the ender ender and a villager trading hall. as usual everyone would fucking die without her. servers she doesn’t join never really get off the ground for the most part because everyone is so used to having her farms on hand and gets lazy to play without them. would probably really enjoy elaborate progression mods like feed the beast

bruce: doesn’t get it. “what are you supposed to do?” “just whatever i want? that sounds silly.” if he gave it a chance i think it could be great for his mental health. i mean mining is basically meditation let’s be real. but let’s also be real he would try it for 5 minutes 30 if his kids really did the puppy eyes and then he would wander away and get killed by a zombie

cass: hard to say, honestly. depends on from what angle the game would be presented to her. she would probably enjoy the hanging out and the cozy atmosphere but she doesn’t strike me as the type to enjoy very grindy games beyond mindless resource gathering. she’d like hopping on the batfam server while everyone else is online and dicking around but alone i think she would just wander the landscapes aimlessly without progressing the game much.

damian: he’s collecting all the animals. 2.000 dogs and no sign of stopping. at least just as many cats. has wrangled half the passive mobs into his house, which is a wooden cube with a roof. it should be ugly but mostly it’s just really charming. i think he would enjoy the foxes

dick: also doesn’t get it. i think he’d prefer story based games or just straight up board games. he would enjoy the communal aspect and if someone introduced him to hypixel or something he would like that but i can’t see him enjoying casual minecraft unless it was a story based adventure map of some kind. he might like blightfall

duke: stacked. plays the game and plays it well. he has netherite armour while everyone else is just getting iron. he just strikes me as a minecraft kid. only other person who’s halfway decent at redstone, but only uses it to make cursed contraptions that give everyone else a headache.

jason: not the most impressive builds or the best with pvp but he likes to explore and creates really elaborate beautiful storylines into all his builds and the environments he cultivates that end up dragging half of the others into the plot. the kid who built fences around villages to protect the citizens from monsters. would enjoy mods that expand the minecraft world like better end.

stephanie: would play with incredibly silly mods that are all only working together with glue and hope. finding incredibly niche categories of speedrunning to complete just for fun; she actually gets briefly famous for setting a decent world record in something and would probably have many twitch followers if she didn’t already have med school and vigilante work to manage. maybe in another life

tim: doesn’t understand the term sandbox game and refuses to learn. he logs on and starts playing achievement hunter. not necessarily in a speedrunning way, but he does play the game like it has a tasklist. perpetual dirt hut tenant. either that or his unsupervised internet access as a child has lead to minecraft youtuber trauma

[toulousewayne]

Batfam Shenanigans Headcannons: Pt 6

When the League first took shape it was understood they should anyone need assistance in their own personal cities that someone would respond. By this point Superman and Batman had teamed up the most so it was understood that Batman Could work with others in Gotham he just prefer to bleed out first.

The first time the league met Robin it was kinda surprising. Batman entered the Watchtower and the League noticed the traffic signal dressed boy behind him.

“Spooky, whatcha got there?” Hal raised a brow.

“A dark Roast.” He drank his coffee.

“He meant the boy Bats.” Barry clarifies.

“I’m Robin.”

“….”

“…..”

“…..”

“Can you play games with your ring Mr. Lantern?” He beamed.

“We can keep him.” Hal replied.

The first time Green Arrow and Black Canary visited the cave they were met the a excited Robin who was happy that Batman let someone visit. Batman didn’t share the excitement.

During a mission Wonder Woman, Flash, and Hawkgirl visit the cave and come across the little gremlin that is Robin.

“Hello child, where is Bruce?” Diana beamed at the child. Dick munching on a cookie points behind him to Bruce hunched over at the Batcomputer. The group walk to him and he’s covered in bandages.

“You look like crap.” Diana pokes his side.

“I fought Bane and was thrown off the rooftop. But thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Is there more cookies?” Flash asks.

A few years later when Batgirl joins Bruce, she’s immediately taken in by Dinah.

“Right hook.”

“Remember your center don’t expose yourself to an opponent.” Dinah calls out to Batgirl.

“You’re a great teacher Dinah.”

“Very kind, but we still have much work to do little Bat. Are you up for it?”

“Bring it.”

It’s comical how some of the Robin will just appear out of thin air. Hal walks into his room to find Robin (Tim) studying the Lantern battery. “Lost kid?”

“No.”

“…you bats always like this?”

“Like what?”

Clark doesn’t notice a Robin clinging to his leg like a baby kola bear.

“Uncle Clark can we get—“

“Ahhhhh, oh it’s just you.”

“You didn’t know I was here?” Dick looks up at him.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m think we should get you a bell.”

“Okie.”

“So, the bag of heads. Were they real?” Barry asks between bits of chili dog.

“…I was a little theatrical back then.” Red Hood hums.

“But they were fake, right?”

“….”

Ollie can’t go five feet with other Spoiler and Black Bat following him like shadows.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be honored or terrified.”

“Both.” Cass replies.

“Father says you come from Mars, I’ve been told your people were intelligent and superior race. I wish to learn about your home planet.”

“Very well.” J’onn nods at Robin.

The Question enters his room to find his last three unsolved cases, solved and a fresh cup of coffee. He knows it’s the third Robin. He would always sneak off and go over clues with him while Batman was busy with the others.

HawkGirl and Spoiler love sparring together. They both find it entertaining watching the other women push herself and learn from one another.

Bart and Konner are the least bit surprised to find Tim at the computer screen in the exact same spot. They spend the next forty minutes trying to get Tim to take a break because he hasn’t blink once since they left him to go watch Jon’s baseball game.

Damian and Jason spend every Sunday together. It’s actually funny because Damian will agree to plans with Dick or Jon and cancel last minute because he and Jason are reading the next several chapters of a novel and munching on Cinnamon rolls Jason baked that day. Alfred the cat is invited too.

Sometimes Cass likes to keep tabs on her family, she has been known to scare the Justice League by watching Batman from the shadows. She enjoys scaring Superman the most. Bruce enjoys this too.

Donna and Wally are Dick’s emergency contacts. Bruce finds this a little hurtful but doesn’t question it. Donna is also Dick’s Power of Attorney incase someone needs to handle important matters for him should he be unable to do so.

Out of all of Dick’s OG team Damian likes Garth the best.

Starfire and Babs had a rocky start to the relationship but no the two are thick as thieves. They go to little shops together and movies. And they truly do have a sisterly bond, Kori will berate stores for not including wheelchair access and providing disabled bathrooms. Barbara has had break two guys hands from trying to get fresh while Kori was clothes shopping. The two even have weekly movie nights at the Clocktower.

[ultimate-marysue]

I find it really funny that people take a panel out of any comic to say "see?? X is not like fanon says, actually he is like this". Bestie, the first thing I've learned from DC is that canon's fucked. Not in the sense that it's bad (sometimes it is), but in the sense that is inconsistent at best.

I'm talking about Batfam right now, so the thing is people want to say x or y robin was the chaotic one and... They all are. They all are very polite or absolute menaces. And It's a staple of the genre. Obviously if you read Tim's run as robin or his comics you're gonna get the impression that he is the main character. Just the coolest, most nuanced, goes through every single event ever kind of character. But if you read Dick's comics...surprise! He is also the smartest coolest funniest robin ever. And omg isn't Jason traumatized when you read his story? But also isn't Steph even more so? Or Cass?

Jason's og backstory was so similar to Dick's they had to change it. Like sure they give each robin/batfam their own traits and backstory, but they also end up with really similar abilities/going through similar events a lot of the time. And personality wise it's not much better because you would think that's one of the things they'd want to keep stable but no.

Tim swings wildly between Batman's most obedient good little soldier and feral child that lies to his face. The evolution sometimes is non existent or not coherent with the plot but that's because a new writer picked it up and he doesn't want to focus on that. Even their unique characteristics get fucked around in canon. Paraphrasing "the characters will do what the writer wants them to do".

If you're afraid of misrepresenting the character I would fall back on these core traits and build up from them. As long as you keep that in mind it's gonna be more canon compliant than some parts of canon. I'm also big on "let people fuck around with fanon" because truly, I might hate some interpretations of the characters...but it's not like it's canon. That's someone playing dolls with a comic character, who cares? I say let them. Simply don't engage if you dislike it.

[killerkatsmeow]

Headcanon: Bruce adopting a civilian teenage girl.

I always thought she’d have ties to Bruce one way or another - either through her single-parent household (her mom works for him) or she has an internship at Wayne Enterprises. In the case of an internship, she’s eager to work and learn but still manages to keep things young and fun. 

Loves Alfred because wow, its her first time meeting a Brit and what kind of name is Pennyworth? I personally feel like she'd be closest to Alfred, she's most comfortable with him. Say she gets arrested/stuck at GCPD...she is NOT calling Bruce for help. She's calling Alfred and begging him to come get her and to not tell Bruce. She wakes up early to help Alfred in the kitchen, she's following him around and pestering him with questions. As an inside joke, she's bringing him a penny and some other thoughtful gift for his birthday. Because...Pennyworth.

Oh, she REFUSES to go to Gotham Academy, she is a P.S. 181 girl through and through. Why would she choose to be around those stuffy, asshole, rich kids anyway? She has all she needs at her public school: all of her friends are there, she's Cheer/Dance Capitan, she receives every party invite known to man...what could Gotham Academy possibly give her besides a complex and a reason to see a psychotherapist? Yeah, no fucking thanks. No fucking way.

The Wayne Manor... She remembers the drive up there and how she was...floored by how nice and vintage and regal and almost scary the place looked. So expensive, how could anyone feel like it was home. She's greeted outside by Bruce and Damian - Bruce wears a smile, Damian is indifferent. She is lost for words pretty often - the tall ceilings, the intimidating portraits...it's all so fancy and a far cry from the 2 bedroom apartment she shared with her mother.

Dinner that night was grand and boasted many guests - family and close friends, Bruce said. She meets Dick, he's charming, polite, and sinewy. Everyone is Gotham knows him, his tragic backstory. Then there's Barbara: she's kind, seems smart but maybe it's the glasses, and uses elbow crutches. Then there's Duke - he seems nervous but is happy to make her acquaintance. Tim has dark under eye circle, yawns a bit, but introduces himself and listens to her patiently. There's another girl who is the most excited at the table to meet her - her name is Stephanie. She smiles, shakes her hand at the speed of a humming bird, and asks a million questions. She only stops when Cass places a hand on her shoulder, she doesn't speak much (a fact Damian explains beforehand) but shakes her hand no less.

It's not until the following week that she meets Jason. She's lounging by the pool, magazine in hand as music plays from her bluetooth speaker when she sees him. He's flanked by the boys as they walk towards the basketball court, their competitive chatter fills the air. He's big - muscular and the tallest of the bunch. He spares a glance over his shoulder and she feels like her heart just stopped. He's beautiful. His eyes are narrowed and kinda intimidating, a shiny blue-green color. He doesn't look back again as they head to the court but just the one glance was enough for her.

Her friends at school know about Jason, they wanna see him for themselves. She begs and begs Bruce to allow her to have a sleepover with her 2 closest friends and after some convincing, he agrees. The girls spend most of the night swimming, baking cookies once Alfred retires from the kitchen, singing karaoke in her generously sized room. The highlight of the night comes when Jason come riding in on his motorcycle - they watch from the window as he dismounts. Strong hands pull his helmet off his head, broad sexy shoulder flex as he stows it away. The girls giggle and coo, mouths drop as they watch the big man walk towards the door. They're safe looking at him from this window they think, flirty compliments can't reach his ears from where they stood but suddenly he looks up, making full eye contact with her again. The girls drop down out of sight, gasping and giggling because of course, they'd get caught ogling.

The girls make comments about her having a "rich dad" when she comes to school with nicer shoes, an expensive backpack, etc. She hates it. "Bruce is not my father." She'll roll her eyes. Her friends ask if he'll adopt her, a topic she'd rather not broach. "No way, how can I marry Jason if we're related?" It's a joke she only...somewhat means and it makes her friends laugh and it practically erases the idea of her getting adopted from the conversation.

She has no clue about the Batfam - the whole vigilante thing. She's clueless but it's hard to believe. She makes these comments that has the fam clenching their holes in shock/fear/anticipation. "It's not like Batman's gonna save me" when she gets herself into a jam or is in need of intervention with schoolwork she cares none for. "Aww, you two are like Batman and Robin." Mockingly when the boys team up for a lame ass burn or zinger against her. "Red Hood is hotter than Nightwing." Overheard as she walks around the house, gabbing to her friends. There's been some close calls like her walking past the secret entrance to the cave right when Bruce, Damian, or Alfred step in or out of it. She doesn't understand the silence her jokes are met with sometimes but she just assumes money makes you a bit boring and stuffy. Just look at Damian.

She loves to read and she spends hours in the library though if Damian is in there, she avoids the place. One day, she has a coffee in hand and she's excited to sit on the plush chaise by the ladder and read that first edition Virginia Woolf she found. She opens the French doors, her feet moving forward before she stops in her tracks. There's Damian, legs crossed with a book splayed in his lap. She sighs, groaning inwardly because Virginia will have to wait. She turns to leave when Damian calls out to her. "You don't have to go." His voice still sounds so condescending but his face, when she turns to see him, his face holds none of that. He seems nice and honest. "You're not the most...welcoming presence in the house." She says, not moving from her spot. Damian sighs, closing his book and rising from his seat on a the davenport. "I know. But..." He doesn't finish the sentence, only waves around the library before walking past her. That was the start of a fairly interesting friendship for the two of them.

She takes the time to learn some ASL because she's under the impression that Cass is deaf or mute. She engages with Cass as much as she can, showing off the new words and phrases she's learned. She gets to be fairly good at it that she even considers taking the interpreter certification exam. So, you can imagine her surprise when, while on a hike, Cass responds to her signing with a full-fledged sentence. Then another one. And another one. Surprise isn't the word, neither is shock. But once she settles into the truth, the two break out into a fit of laughter.

Sneaking out of Wayne Manor is a bitch but she loves to do it! Sometimes she's grounded - the why is ever-changing - and sometimes, she knows Bruce and Alfred would hate her late night partying. She's opening her window and shimmying down a trellis as her friends wait outside of the manor gate off to the side and just out of sight. She hates hopping the gate, her hands are too precious for the scraping so for a few days she's been pushing a ladder closer and closer to the sweet spot of the gate. Sometimes she comes back to Bruce outside the front door in a robe with knitted brows and a set jaw, other times it's a silent treatment a t breakfast. She feels guilty sometimes, but mostly only when's he's caught. She wonders how they know, tells her friends there has to be a security camera. If only she knew.

[saltnsugarbear]

saltnsugarbear's 200 follower banquet!

omg hello! hi hello!

we've made it to 200!! this is very, very exciting and I'm a bit more organized this time! below you will find the details of the celebration and rules and some more thanks!

Some rules before we begin!

-- This event will take place between November 14th all the way to November 22nd!

-- Meaning! From 12am November 14th to 1159pm November 22nd you can send anything from the list below!

-- I ask that you include a prompt paired with a character from my x reader list, if no character or prompt are paired your ask will deleted for maximum organization on my end!

-- try as I might, I looked over the lists and attempted to pick some that didn't have stuff I'm not into. However, if I managed to miss one, I will communicate that it's not something I vibe with and will ask for you to submit a new prompt!

-- I think this is everything?

-- Like everything else, I ask for some patience!

Here are the prompt lists!

You can pick from the family friendly lists; fake dating, grumpy/sunshine, new relationship or secret pining!

Or you can choose from the smut selection; inexperienced, "just like that", guided, list 1 or list 2!

Don't want to do a prompt? That's okay! I've got two games going on!

-- the fruit game where you ask me about writing!

or

-- the emoji game where you can learn more about me!

Don't want to play a game or send a prompt? That's okay! here's some other options for you:

-- send a 📸 and a character from the x reader list or my dynamic list and I can make you up a moodboard!

-- send a 🎧 and I'll tell you what I'm listening to/listened to last!

-- send one of these 📻, and i will give you a song i think suits you or your blog!

(moodboard idea from Mouse <3)

And now, for the thank you part of the post! (you guys already saw this and don't need to read it but I'm keeping it here)

-- Once again, just the biggest thank you to Olive, who continues to be,,, honestly just my biggest supporter and I could not ask for a better person to have in my corner of bearblr. I love sending sneak peeks to you and my posts wouldn't be half of what they are without you inspiring me. You are the original babygirl and I love you soso much

-- To Maggie who is just,,,, rah you're the coolest I love you and I love talking about writing and not writing and silly things. i fear i would repeat so much of what i've already said. first person to nurture my lip ideas and one of the main introductions i had to actively participating in the content i consumed and created and allowing me to continue to share my ideas with a delightful community

-- Moon!!! iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou, Moon you are so beloved by me. I freaking love talking to you and being sillys together we are literally iconinc duo Snoopy and Woodstock and I freaking adore you soso much

-- tumblr daughter Sonia!!! tumblr daughter sonia i love you dearly. our shared brainchild of vampire Lip is so dear to me and I love chatting with you you're my tumblr baby my tumblr daughter i adore you

-- my mouse the mouse in my pocket if you give a mouse a blog she is going to want friends to go with it mouse i love you so bad

-- my handful collection of mutuals I don't talk to enough; worm, capri, ruby, cass and the beloved l4l! you guys are so fucking cool I love you all and rahhh I'm so glad to share a space with you guys <3

-- all of these are starting to sound the same to me but all 200+ little freaks I love you so bad!!

[goodluckclove]

Why Are You a Writer?

So the other day I did the second of my Writer's Refuge interview series, soon to be posted later this week. It went pretty well! It was with an artist on here I admire a lot and it was a really interesting conversation.

Perhaps even too interesting. We got onto the topic on why a person would tell stories, and their answer ended up being drastically different than mine. It ended up sending my on a little bit of a spiral (No fault of yours if you read this, Cass), but I didn't really talk about it with her at the time. You know, it's an interview. It's not about me.

My instinct when I'm feeling emotionally vulnerable is to sort of hide away most of the time, but it's a sleepy day in the Gardener household and I think it might help me to talk about it. So below the read more I'm going to get deeper into the question often asked to people in my trade: why are you a writer?

Spoiler alert: it's because I'm lonely.

No real gravitas or dramatics there, I don't think. Little actual literary merit. I've heard people say that they're writers because they're overtaken by stories, just a vessel to the act of creation that can't help but craft narratives. I think that's cool in theory, and it's something I relate to, but I also think it's a mind type that doesn't exist in a vacuum.

I grew up a child of addicts with about a five and eight-year age gap between me and the rest of my siblings. We were conditioned to be deeply loyal to each other and care in the way our parents couldn't care for us, but most of the time my siblings didn't want to play with me. My parents didn't want to play with me. I had a few friends at school, but not many of them were able to hang out with me outside of campus for one reason or another. Throughout my developmental years I spent a majority of my time on my own, just figuring out different ways to entertain myself.

And I felt a fundamental other-ing from the rest of the people around me. I was precocious, considered "mature for my age" (a poison adults have been feeding the youth for generations), but it went deeper than that. I would speak quickly to my peers, joking almost frantically without letting them get a word in edgewise. It felt like they all knew a common language I was never able to learn and never could. At one point in middle school I told myself I was better than them. i don't think that anymore. Now I'm just confused.

As an adult I'm often confused by other people, sometimes to the point of fear. I struggle to stay afloat in large social situations, to look charming and keep the other person placated and talking, making sure they don't realize the fundamental truth that I'm not supposed to be there. Sometimes it gets to the point where I'm so exhausted that I physically can't look at human faces for hours afterwards. They all look like fleshy slugs.

Does that make sense? I say that a lot in conversation with those around me, a constant plea for validation. Am I making sense?

So I write. I write a lot. With no other line of work at the moment I've been writing about 60k words every month for the better part of the last year. And I do it to tell a story I'm passionate about, sure. I do it to process emotional ghosts from my past. But if I'm being honest with myself I know I write to create a connection between myself and the audience. To create a story that someone can read or watch and say "I understand", even if their interpretation is different than my own.

I do it because I'm lonely. And I'm not really proud of that. But it's the truth.

Riley was surprised when I told them this. So are you saying that if you were happy you wouldn't be a writer? They asked. Well, I am happy. I'm also lonely. These two things can exist at once.

But if I had a different life. A more functional family system that would've likely resulted in me needing far less treatment than I currently do. If all that was the case then I might not see the need to be deeply embedded in my own head. The rest of the world might not come off as the threat it sometimes is. But then again, my life and my identity would be so drastically different that I don't really see the point in speculating.

Would I be a writer? Maybe. I don't know. I'd probably have other hobbies.

I don't usually like talking about myself like this. It feels indulgent. A little too skin-less for my tastes. But, as with anything else, maybe someone younger and in a similar state could read me talking in this way and feel an aspect of comfort. If one person does then that would be worth it. I'm glad I'm a writer and I think I'm a capable one. I'm also aware that being a capable writer doesn't necessarily mean you're also deeply neurotic, which is both a comfort and a small point of envy.

If you've read to this point - which, by the way, is an oddity of cosmic proportions to me, maybe reblog and speak a bit about how you became a writer. But maybe be a little honest with yourself. If it comes from a deep well of pain, that's meaningful. If you just want to create a powerful story that people can lose themselves in, that's also meaningful.

You don't need to suffer to be a good artist. That's absolutely not something I believe to any extent. I'm just one of the ones that did, and that's something I'm going to have to work out over the course of the next rest of my life.

I don't know. I'm rambling. Maybe it can be your turn to talk now.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Batfam reacting to Tims bf being a magic user something similar to a wizard/witch with having to use spells from a spell book or memorizing it and sometimes have to use physical items to cast them

I truly want this cause i want a reaction from Damian when he walks into a room and see’s tims bf floating legs crossed his eyes glowing to the color of his power and the pages of the book turning on its own

I’m going to do a shorter one since I’m traveling rn

Dick would think everything is pretty cool

He’s into the magic stuff with all of his friends and the fact that he grew up in the circus

Magic is probably kind of comforting to him in a way

He is curious about the book though

I have some theories that only magic users will be able to read the book so he looks at it like 🥸🤔

He’s got no idea

Like he wants to learn about it but there’s so much to learn

Jason thinks it’s a bit creepy and first

Duke is probably the same way

I feel like Duke would be slightly religious so he’d be over there internally like 😰✝️✝️✝️

Poor Duke needed a while to get used to it 

Jason kind of he just like yea whatever in person

But internally he’s like- I swear if this is Constantine magic I’m abandoning this family

He and Duke are taking Alfred and Cass and RUNNING

Alfred is fine with it as long as you don’t break anything

Like please keep the house tidy- that’s all he asks

Luke and Bruce are the ones who want to run tests at any point

Can you do this? What about this? How does this work?

Bruce is more cautious about it though cause he’s distrusting of magic

Steph is the meme of SHAPES AND COLORSSS

she’s just mesmerized with no shame

Looks like a kid in a candy store or at Disney

She doesn’t even try to play it cool she’s just like 😧 the entire time

Cass is really chill

She likes to study her stuff when you’re working because you just don’t make too much of a ruckus about things

She thinks it’s pretty neat too since she likes to learn about everything

Damian is slightly polarized and indignant about it

If he walks in a room and you’re mid air doing some kind of magic he’s booking it

*in Arabic* “for grandfather’s sake I can’t get a moment of peace in this household”

Backs away slowly from the room

He won’t ask questions but will instead just assume things based off of what he’s seen

More of a hypothesis kind of guy

Just don’t touch his pets and you’ll be fine