#cass in 4k

[yourejinx]

Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule. 

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house. 

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly. 

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled. 

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside. 

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly. 

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you. 

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it. 

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him. 

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.  

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off. 

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you. 

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?” 

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter. 

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes. 

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.  

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.” 

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body. 

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly. 

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins. 

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features? 

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him. 

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous. 

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan. 

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.” 

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry  in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful. 

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly. 

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing. 

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?” 

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.” 

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear. 

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath. 

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss. 

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him. 

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet. 

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you. 

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.” 

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere. 

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure. 

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy. 

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,”  you whined prettily, eyes locking with his. 

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him. 

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again. 

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you. 

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling. 

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep. 

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further. 

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly. 

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up. 

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost. 

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him. 

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit. 

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you. 

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his. 

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls. 

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.” 

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone. 

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support. 

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.” 

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted,  desperately wanting to please him. 

“Good girl.” 

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed. 

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder. 

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face. 

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.” 

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever. 

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him. 

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?” 

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison. 

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse. 

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled. 

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass. 

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck. 

“How does a second round sound?” You purred. 

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.” 

[daycourtofficial]

Now I’m in exile seeing you out

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none

Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?

Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰

2k celebration masterlist

Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.

It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.

Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.

“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”

His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.

“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.

A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.

She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.

Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”

She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”

In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.

“Cass, it’s been four days.”

“The house’s not the same without you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.

Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.

Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.

It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.

You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.

Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.

You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.

You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.

You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.

He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.

Good.

“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”

“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.

“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”

You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.

The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.

He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.

“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”

Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Was I not enough for you?”

His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”

His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.

“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”

Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.

“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”

You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.

“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”

You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.

This one felt full of hope and possibilities.

-

Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.

You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.

Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.

It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.

Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.

It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.

After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.

You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.

You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.

“Leave her alone.”

You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.

He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.

“She your bitch?”

Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.

The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.

He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”

You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.

You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.

You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.

You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.

So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.

Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.

“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”

You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.

“Is Cassian a dad now?”

Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”

His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”

“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”

Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”

Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”

“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”

You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”

You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.

“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”

The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”

His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.

“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”

He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.

“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”

His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.

“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”

You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.

“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”

He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.

A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.

“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”

He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.

“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”

You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.

They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.

You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.

“Show me.”

-

Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.

The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.

He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.

As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.

Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.

After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.

“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”

His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.

“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”

“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”

His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.

“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”

Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.

“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”

Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.

“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”

He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”

He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.

“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”

And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.

And he became that.

On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.

And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.

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Thanks for reading 💕

[fever-fluff]

Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All

Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)

“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”

“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.

“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”

Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.

He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”

“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.

“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.

“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.

But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.

“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”

Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.

So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.

Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.

They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.

Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.

“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”

“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.

“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.

The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.

Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”

His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”

“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.

“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”

“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.

“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.  

“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”

“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”

You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”

“You are?”

You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”

“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”

You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.

He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.

There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.

You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.

But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.

“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.

Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”

“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.

“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.

“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.

The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.

But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.

Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.

Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.

Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.

The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.

Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.

But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.

“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.

“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.

Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”

“Affect his what, Cassian?”

The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.

“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”

Azriel stopped.

Everything stopped.

Your- your what?

You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.

“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.

Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”  

So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.

“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.

“You-you called Az your mate?”

Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.

“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.

 The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”

“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.

“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”

You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”

Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.

“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”

With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”

You nodded.

 “I know.”

There will be a Part II

[ghostbsuter]

It was supposed to be a normal gala, everyone attending and maybe smuggle in Danny's official introduction to the public.

Danny didn't really mind, having been lectured and taught by Sam during the times of suffering they'd had to go through together.

Yet, since waking up, he'd had a bad feeling.

Good thing he listened to that bad feeling, considering the situation he is at right now.

(He had looked at Dami when he saw the agents pile in, handing him his glas and grabbing the bottle. He ignored the scowl in favor of shouting, "Viva la revolution!")

The comm crackles to life as he smashes one of the GIW agents with a bottle of champagne over the head, grabbing another and downing in one go.

He passes Jason, grinning like a feral cat and swiping another GIW agent to the ground.

(At that moment, the forced-to-be-here Jason watched wide eyed, a soft "What the fuck" leaving him as he held his glass.)

"Get him!" Multiple guns were pointed at the running teen. The guests and the waynes were pressed to the walls of the room and murmured.

Danny jumped, kicking the agent down and ducking from the shoots.

He's running to the tall windows, opening one and sending his farewells.

"You will never catch me alive!!"

And jumps out, a flurry of colourful laser shoots following.

The agents pile behind the window, shouting incomprehensibly.

(One of guests leans towards Mr. Wayne, sipping her champagne. "Say, Bruce, are you sure he isn't from Gotham City?"

The man in turn blinks, smiling charmingly despite the demon's fighting in his head at what's going on. "I... was pretty sure, maybe he just fits in?"

The Lady laughs, dumping her rest of the drink on a agent and making a haste retreat.

Bruce is only half sure that, that was someone he knew and just disguised.)

I kinda want danny who's been adopted by the wanyes to be schmoozing it up at a gala (because listen nothing is funnier than the image of Gotham elites being like oh whats this one's gimmick cus all the other's have something only for danny to just be a dude) only for like the giw to raid the place to get danny ( cus he's a ghost? Cus he's a Fenton? Who knows)

Only for danny to pick up a bottle chug it smash it and vault out a window shouting you'll never catch me alive

Now this increases his reputation with most Gothamites and rouges and absolutely worries the fuck out of the batfam why is the government chasing you danny and hiw are you so good at running

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Stralight - Part 2

here is the link for part 1 or part 3

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

Word Count; 4k

notes; Hey everyone! This chapter is more centered around the IC. New clues and questions will arise while following Y/N from a different perspective. Also I already wrote a good part of the story, I will try to publish a new chapter every day/two day. I hope that you will like the part 2. Do not hesitate to comment. Bisous <3

---

Two weeks had flown by, and the long-awaited night of the Winter Solstice had enveloped Velaris in a festive blanket of snow and twinkling stars. Inside the stately townhouse of the High Lord, the inner circle—Mor, Armen, Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys—gathered around a roaring fire, the room aglow with the warmth of friendship and laughter.

Mor, ever the heart of any gathering, clapped her hands with a bright, infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, everyone, it's the moment we've all been waiting for—gifts time!" she announced, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Laughter and cheerful banter filled the room as small, beautifully wrapped packages began to change hands. Azriel joked about how he hoped his gift was better than last year's infamous "invisible cloak"—which turned out to be just an empty box. Cassian roared with laughter, slapping him on the back, while Rhys watched on, a sly grin playing on his lips.

As the gifts made their rounds, the moment came for Cassian and Azriel to receive their gifts from Rhys. With a dramatic flourish that matched the occasion, Rhys presented them each with an elegantly wrapped, long, slender box. "For my brothers, who deserve nothing but the best," he said with a warm tone of brotherly affection.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged a look of curiosity and anticipation before tearing into the wrapping. As they lifted the lids, the room fell into an appreciative silence. Inside each box lay a masterfully crafted sword and dagger set, the metal gleaming even in the soft light of the fire.

Azriel’s set was sleek and shadowy, with subtle, intricate engravings along the blade that seemed to shift and move in the light. The hilt was expertly crafted to fit perfectly in his hand, and the syphon stone nestled at the base pulsed with a faint, mysterious glow.

Cassian's sword and dagger were robust and commanding, with bold designs etched along the blades and a heavier, more aggressive build. The handles were wrapped in dark leather that contrasted starkly with the bright gleam of the steel, and his syphon stone throbbed with a powerful, steady light.

"Rhys, these are... incredible," Cassian finally broke the silence, his voice thick with emotion. "Seriously, brother, they're more than I could have hoped for."

Azriel, ever the more reserved of the two, was quietly inspecting his blade, but his impressed expression spoke volumes. He looked up at Rhys, a question in his eyes. "Was this why you sent me to the new blacksmith’s shop? To deliver our old syphons?"

Rhys nodded, a satisfied smile lighting up his face. "Yes, I wanted Y/N to incorporate them into your new weapons. I knew she could breathe new life into those old stones."

Mor leaned forward, her interest piqued. "That was a brilliant touch, Rhys. Y/N’s craftsmanship is truly remarkable. Did you see how Az’s blade almost seems alive with shadows?"

"And Cass’s looks like it could lead an army on its own," Armen added, smirking as she felt back in her comfy sofa.

The conversation spiraled into a lively discussion about the craftsmanship, the battle stories that the old syphons had seen, and how these new weapons would soon make their own marks in history. Laughter and heartfelt thanks filled the room, creating memories that would warm their hearts for many solstices to come.

As the night wore on, filled with more stories and laughter, Cassian and Azriel handled their new gifts with something akin to reverence. It was clear these were more than just weapons; they were symbols of their brotherhood, their strength, and the silent, unbreakable bonds that held them all together.

As the Winter Solstice celebration unfolded in the warm glow of the townhouse, Rhysand and Azriel found a brief moment of quiet near the crackling fire. The High Lord, nursing a glass of wine, caught the spymaster's thoughtful gaze and smiled knowingly.

"Y/N, hmm?" Rhysand began, his tone light with a hint of intrigue. "I heard about her long before she set up shop in Velaris. It was during a meeting with Helion at his court. He couldn't stop boasting about the spear she crafted for him—it was truly magnificent."

Azriel, leaning casually against the wall, raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Helion? That's high praise coming from the Day Court. She must be something special."

Rhysand nodded, a gleam of pride in his eyes. "Indeed she is. From what I gather, she keeps to herself, lets her work speak for her. Mysterious, but fiercely talented."

Azriel’s interest was clearly piqued. "She seems to have a knack for keeping a low profile. What do you know about her background?"

Rhysand’s gaze shifted to the fire, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "She’s originally from the Night Court, Velaris to be exact. But beyond that, she’s a bit of an enigma. Not one to share her story readily."

Azriel nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Her work speaks volumes, though. Each piece feels imbued with a story, a history."

Rhysand chuckled softly. "Sounds like someone else I know," he teased, nudging Azriel playfully. "But she’s different. There’s a depth to her craftsmanship that’s rare."

Meanwhile, across the room, Mor and Cassian were engrossed in their own revelry, their laughter filling the air as they enjoyed the solstice festivities with abandon, seemingly oblivious to the more serious conversation unfolding between Rhysand and Azriel.

Azriel’s gaze lingered thoughtfully on the flickering flames before returning to Rhysand. "Do you think she’d be willing to collaborate with us more closely? Her talent could be a valuable asset to our efforts."

Rhysand nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. Let’s give her time to settle in, though. If she’s as exceptional as we believe, she’ll find her place in our plans soon enough."

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics as the night wore on, but Azriel couldn't shake the intrigue Y/N had stirred in him. Her presence in Velaris promised more than just exceptional craftsmanship—it hinted at alliances, mysteries, and a potential for change that resonated deeply within the heart of the Night Court.

----

A few days after the festive celebrations of the Winter Solstice, Rhysand was deep in discussion with Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court. They were seated in a quiet, sunlit room in the House of Wind, poring over scrolls and plans aimed at enhancing the health infrastructure of their court. They debated new strategies and shared insights on how best to equip their healers with advanced resources.

As their meeting drew to a close, Madja, ever observant, shifted the topic with a hint of intrigue in her tone. "Rhysand, have you heard of the blacksmith Y/N?" she asked, her eyes sharp and probing.

Rhysand nodded, a hint of pride in his response. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with her work. She crafted the weapons I gifted to Cassian and Azriel for the solstice. They were exceptional."

Madja leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a confidential whisper. "Keep her close, Rhysand. She bears a power that could save many lives, far beyond what her craftsmanship alone might suggest."

Rhysand's interest was immediately piqued, his strategic mind already turning over the implications. "What do you mean, Madja? What kind of power are we talking about?"

Madja sighed, and her gaze became distant as she recalled the day she visited Y/N's smithy, prompting a flashback:

The day had been unusually brisk for Velaris, the winter chill seeping through even the warmest of cloaks. Madja pushed open the door to Y/N's smithy, greeted by the familiar clang of metal on metal and the comforting heat that rolled out from the forge. The shop was lively, with customers admiring the array of weapons and tools displayed with meticulous care. The air smelled of iron and burning coals, a scent that Madja had always associated with strength and resilience.

Y/N emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a leather apron, her sharp eyes taking in the scene before settling on Madja. "Healer Madja," Y/N greeted with a nod, a small smile on her lips. "What can I do for you today?"

Madja reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out an old, well-worn sickle. The blade, while still sharp, had seen many years of use. "I need a new sickle," she explained, holding the tool out for Y/N to examine. "Something similar to this, but I’d like it embedded with healing gems—something that can amplify my abilities when I work."

Y/N took the sickle, turning it over in her hands, studying the craftsmanship with a discerning eye. "I can do that," she said after a moment. "I’ll need a few days to gather the right materials, but I’ll make sure it’s exactly what you need."

As they spoke, the shop was bustling around them. Alexander, ever energetic and eager to help, was darting about, juggling several tasks at once. At one point, he was carrying an armful of swords, trying to show a client the finer details of a blade while managing the chaos around him. Madja watched with a smile, amused by the boy’s enthusiasm.

But then, in his haste, Alex’s foot caught on the edge of a carpet that had bunched up beneath the weight of all the activity. He stumbled forward, the swords in his arms clattering to the ground with a sharp, metallic crash. His wide eyes filled with panic as he lost his balance, teetering dangerously.

Y/N reacted instantly, her hand shooting out to catch Alex before he could fall, her grip steady and sure. But in the chaos, Madja’s old sickle, which had been resting precariously on the edge of the counter, was knocked off, plummeting toward the floor—and directly toward Alex.

Madja’s heart leaped into her throat, but before she could move, Y/N’s other hand lashed out, snatching the sickle by the blade just inches from Alex’s head. The sharp edge sliced through Y/N’s palm, blood welling up immediately. But the sickle never reached the boy. Instead, Y/N held it firmly, her expression more concerned with Alex than her own injury.

"Alex, are you okay?" Y/N asked, her voice calm despite the cut on her hand.

Alex, wide-eyed and shaken, nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, Nana, I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s alright," Y/N assured him, her voice gentle. She set the sickle down carefully, then knelt to help Alex gather the fallen swords. "Just be more careful next time, okay?"

Madja stepped forward, her healer’s instincts kicking in as she moved to examine Y/N’s hand. "Let me see that," she insisted, reaching out.

But Y/N pulled her hand back slightly, shaking her head. "It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine."

Madja was about to protest when something caught her eye—small, flickering blue flames that danced across Y/N’s wound, sealing it shut with a soft, almost musical hum. The flames vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind smooth, unbroken skin where the cut had been just moments before.

Madja stared, her mind racing. "What... was that?" she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.

Y/N seemed unfazed, her focus still on Alex, making sure he was steady on his feet. "Nothing to worry about," she said, her tone casual. But there was a tension in her voice that didn’t escape Madja’s notice.

The healer hesitated, unsure of what she had just witnessed, but knowing better than to press the issue in front of others. "If you’re sure," she finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

Y/N nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I am. Thank you, Madja."

Madja left the shop soon after, but the image of those blue flames stayed with her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that what she had seen was more than just a simple healing ability—there was something deeper, something powerful about Y/N that she couldn’t yet understand.

Back in the present, Rhysand’s expression was contemplative, his mind turning over the possibilities. "Blue flames that heal… That’s not something you see every day. You’re sure it was real, Madja?"

Madja nodded, her expression serious. "I’ve never seen anything like it before, Rhysand. There’s a power in her that could be incredibly valuable. Her abilities could redefine healing, or perhaps... something more."

Rhysand leaned back, his thoughts racing. "This is something I need to look into further. If Y/N possesses such power, she could play a crucial role in the future of the Night Court."

"Be careful, Rhysand," Madja warned gently. "Power like that isn’t always easy to control. But if anyone can guide her, it’s you."

Rhysand nodded, the weight of this new revelation settling on his shoulders. He knew he needed to approach this carefully, to understand the full extent of Y/N’s abilities—and to ensure that whatever power she held, it would be used to protect and strengthen the Night Court.

----

The day had been kind to you, the steady hum of work filling your hours, and now, as night fell over Velaris, you decided to treat Alex to a well-deserved meal. The two of you strolled along the Sidra, the river reflecting the twinkling lights of the city, casting everything in a magical glow. The restaurant you chose was a cozy, yet elegant establishment with an outdoor terrace that overlooked the water. The warm, inviting lights and the soft murmur of other diners created a serene atmosphere that was perfect for unwinding after a long day.

You had dressed nicely for the occasion, opting for well-fitted pants and a tailored shirt that allowed you to feel both comfortable and presentable. Alex, too, had cleaned up well, his usual enthusiasm shining brightly in his eyes as you both took your seats at a small table by the river.

"This place is amazing, Nana," Alex said, his voice filled with excitement as he scanned the menu. "We should come here more often!"

You smiled, taking in the joy on his face. "We’ve had a good run lately, haven’t we? I figured we deserved a little treat."

The waiter arrived, and you both placed your orders— your young apprentice going for sugary drink and you for a glass of white wine. As you sipped your drink, Alex leaned in with a mischievous grin.

"You remember that client who came in last week?" Alex began, his tone full of amusement. "The one who insisted he needed a sword for 'taming wild beasts'? Turns out he thought the sword would actually talk to the animals and convince them to behave."

You nearly choked on your wine, giggling at the absurdity of it. "No! Did he really? I thought he just wanted a strong blade for hunting or something."

Alex nodded, laughing. "Yeah! I had to explain to him that swords don’t exactly come with instructions for bear negotiations."

Your laughter was soft and genuine, the joy of the moment spreading warmth through your chest. It was in that moment of shared humor that the door to the restaurant opened, and you caught sight of Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian entering. They were dressed as impeccably as ever, their presence immediately commanding attention in the room. 

The three of them were clearly expected, as a table near the river, a bit more private, was promptly made available for them. However, before they were seated, Rhysand’s gaze fell upon you and Alex. His eyes lit up with recognition, and a charming smile spread across his face as he made his way over to your table, the others following behind.

"Y/N," Rhysand greeted warmly, his voice smooth as ever. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here." He turned to Alex with a grin. "And this must be the famous Alexander I’ve heard so much about."

Alex, never one to shy away from attention, beamed up at the High Lord. "That’s me! Nice to see you again, my lord!"

Rhysand chuckled, then glanced back at his brothers. "Y/N, allow me to introduce Cassian, our esteemed General of the Illyrian legions. I believe you’ve already met Azriel, our spymaster."

Cassian extended a hand with a friendly grin. "I’ve heard nothing but good things about your work, Y/N. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the master behind the blade."

You shook his hand, feeling a bit shy under the attention but managing a smile. "The pleasure’s mine. I’ve heard a lot about you as well."

Azriel, standing slightly behind Rhysand, gave you a nod of acknowledgment. "Good to see you again, Y/N."

Rhysand then motioned toward their table, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Why don’t you both join us for dinner? We’d love the company."

Caught off guard, you hesitated, glancing at Alex before responding. "Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. This is your night out, after all."

Cassian waved away your concern with a laugh. "Nonsense! The more, the merrier."

You were still about to politely decline when Alex piped up, his eyes wide with excitement. "Please, Nana! I’ve always wanted to have dinner with them. Plus, I think they’ve got some cool stories to tell!"

You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile. Alex’s enthusiasm was hard to resist, and the idea of joining them, despite your initial reluctance, was becoming more appealing. Finally, you sighed playfully and nodded. "Alright, alright. You win, Alex."

Rhysand’s smile broadened as he gestured toward their table. "Perfect. Let’s make this an evening to remember."

The evening by the Sidra continued to unfold beautifully as you and Alex joined Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at their table. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, the city lights reflecting off the river, casting a soft glow over the terrace. The five of you settled in comfortably, and soon, food and drinks were ordered—a mix of hearty dishes and lighter fare, with wine flowing freely.

As the meal progressed, the conversation naturally turned to more personal topics. Rhysand, ever the curious and perceptive High Lord, leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest. "Y/N, you’re a bit of a mystery. I’d love to know more about your story—where you’re from, your family, how you came to be the talented blacksmith you are today."

You hesitated for a moment, swirling the wine in your glass as you considered where to begin. The table fell into a quiet, expectant silence, all eyes on you.

"Well," you started, "I’m originally from Velaris. My father was a guard here, dedicated to protecting the city, and my mother came from a family of old politicians who eventually left Hewn City to make a life here."

Cassian nodded thoughtfully, sipping his drink. "Sounds like they were strong people. What happened to them?"

You sighed softly, the memories bittersweet. "My mother died giving birth to me. It was... hard on my father. They were mates, and the pain of losing her was too much for him. He passed away a few hours after she did."

Cassian’s brow furrowed, his voice laced with concern and curiosity. "He just... passed away? How?"

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze steadily. "He killed himself. The bond they shared was so strong that living without her wasn’t an option for him."

The table grew solemn, the weight of your words settling over everyone. Rhysand reached out, "I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot for anyone to bear."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I never actually knew them so I’m fine with it I guess. After they died, I was raised by my father’s best friend—my master. He taught me everything I know about blacksmithing. We traveled to most of the courts and across the continent, honing my skills. Alex," you added with a fond glance at the boy beside you, "is my master’s son. After my master passed away, I took Alex under my wing."

Alex, who had been quietly listening, smiled up at you, his admiration evident. “Y/N's the best teacher. She’s taught me everything."

Azriel, who had been quietly observing, spoke up, his tone thoughtful. "You’ve had quite the journey, Y/N. It takes strength to turn pain into something as beautiful and powerful as your work."

You smiled softly, nodding in agreement. "It wasn’t easy, but it’s the only way I know how to honor them."

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed freely, accompanied by the delicious food and the soothing ambiance of the Sidra beside you. After sharing your story, a question that had been lingering at the back of your mind finally surfaced.

“You three,” you began, glancing between Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, “are you truly brothers? I’ve heard stories, but I’ve always wondered how much truth there is to them.”

Cassian chuckled, exchanging a glance with Rhysand and Azriel. “Well, not by blood,” he admitted, “but in every way that matters, we’re brothers.”

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he looked at his two closest friends. “We grew up together in the Illyrian war camps. It wasn’t an easy upbringing, but we forged bonds that can’t be broken. Cassian and Azriel have been at my side through everything—through battles, victories, losses… they’re my family.”

Azriel, who was usually reserved, added quietly, “We’ve faced more together than most blood-related brothers ever would. That kind of connection goes beyond anything as simple as blood.”

Cassian leaned in, a grin spreading across his face. “And if you need proof, just look at how often we bicker like brothers.”

You laughed softly, understanding now the depth of their bond. “It’s clear there’s a lot of history between you. It’s… comforting to see that even in a place as powerful as the Night Court, family—however it’s made—still matters most.”

Rhysand smiled at you, his eyes reflecting the sentiment. “Family is everything to us, Y/N. And it’s something that grows—not just with blood, but with loyalty and trust.”

At this, Cassian turned his attention to Alex, who was listening intently. “Speaking of family, Alex, how about joining ours in a different way? Ever thought about training to be a warrior? You’ve got the makings of a good one.”

Alex looked up at Cassian, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What time would the training start?”

Cassian grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Around dawn. What do you think?”

Alex wrinkled his nose playfully, causing everyone to chuckle. “Dawn? That’s way too late! By then, Nana and I have already finished our training.”

The table fell into a momentary silence, the surprise evident on the faces of the Night Court’s inner circle. Azriel raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “You train before dawn?”

You couldn’t help but smile at their reactions. “What did you expect? We don’t just create weapons; we know how to wield them, too. Alex is becoming quite skilled, actually.”

Cassian let out a low whistle, visibly impressed. “Well, consider me impressed. Maybe I’ll join you two sometime—if you’ll have me.”

Alex beamed with pride. “You’re welcome anytime, but don’t expect to keep up!”

Laughter erupted around the table, the earlier heaviness of your shared stories giving way to a light-hearted camaraderie that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The night continued with more stories, jokes, and the easy flow of conversation that only comes when people truly connect.

As the evening drew to a close, and the stars twinkled brightly above Velaris, you felt a deep sense of belonging. This dinner by the Sidra had revealed not just the pasts of the people around you, but had begun weaving your own story into the fabric of their lives. It was the start of something new, something meaningful—both for you and for Alex—and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

[destieltaggedfic]

Hi! Do You Know Any Fics Where Dean And Cas Are Already Dating And Sam Finds Out? Bonus Points If Sam Doesn’t Know Who Cas Is And Meets Him As Dean’s Boyfriend

ok, so obviously if Sam has never met Cas before that kind of leaves AUs or at least Alternate Canonverse, so I'll do a mix of the two.

To The Famous Final Scene - sandean_cas   Ao3

Set S15x20 didn’t happen.  After everything Dean moves away from Sam so they can live their own lives.  But today is the day Sam is coming to see Dean’s house for the first time.  Unfortunately for Sam he decides to sneak in to snoop instead of knocking on the door and learns more than he wanted to about what (and who) Dean is doing now.  (Cas is spelled Cass)

Word Count: 1k                                 Non-Graphic Sex

The Secret Boyfriend - fangirlingtodeath513   Ao3

AU.  It was confusing when Dean and Cas were sent separate invitations to Sam’s wedding, but they don’t realise just how out of the loop their families are when they question the engagement rings.

Word Count: 3k                                 No Sex

you don't know what you're missing, now - Steerpike13713   Ao3

Set S1 AU.  When Sam’s apartment is broken into he wasn’t expecting his brother and his brother’s… hunting partner?

Word Count:4k                                 No Sex

Family Matters – Aeronwy   Ao3

Nonspecific timeframe.  After Sam’s wife got turned into a vampire he’s been on the hunt to put her down.  It leads him to reconnecting with Dean whose life is much different than he would have expected with his angel husband and kids.  But vengeance comes first for Sam and he’s having trouble adapting to Dean’s new mindset about hunting and supernatural creatures.

Word Count:  17k                             Non-Graphic Sex

Hive – SpreadYourWings   Ao3

AU.  When Sam’s car breaks down in a strange town, he isn’t expecting the local B&B owner to be the brother who went missing years earlier, presumed dead.

Word Count: 5k                                 No Sex

[havendance]

I’m back again with another fic rec list. This time with a baker’s dozen of excellent Batman fics of the hidden gen variety that I’ve dug up. Hopefully there’s something new for everyone on here. Check them out! Give them some love!

Boy Hostage by kuonji

2.5k, complete. A fun little piece showing each of the batboys getting in and out of getting kidnapped for ransom.

but I don’t own a single gun by Molly_Hats (@mollyhats)

1.1k, complete. DICK AND TIM! A conversation between them set at a vague point in the timeline in which various old wounds of the past get dug up.

Get Used to Dying, by papered_king (@paperedking)

1.6k, complete. A very neat character study for Jason that’s formatted as a script for a play and does and excellent job of utilizing it’s format.

It could be worse by Runespoor

2.8k, complete. A series of vignettes about alternate universes where it was somebody else that took Jason in instead of Bruce.

paradoxical sleep by brawltogethernow (@brawltogethernow)

4k, wip. A vibey and cool inception AU. I have never actually watched inception so I don’t know what’s going on half the time when I read this, but I do know that it’s a fun read!

Promises by RenaRoo (@renaroo)

33k, wip. A fix-it fic for Cass’s One Year Later/Evil!Cass arc. This one admittedly, has not been updated since 2018, but it is still very good and you all should read it! It’s got Cass & Tim! Cass interacting with the Birds of Prey! And it really does a great job of digging into her head and all of her raw emotions.

Rose Garden by batling_out_of_hell

6k, wip. In which Cass decides to rebel against Batman and take over the world in order to make sure that no one kills ever. A delight to read. The first chapter is a little slower to start, but chapter 2 onwards is rocking!

Ships and Schemes by Molly_Hats (@mollyhats)

1.3k, complete. A short and fun little fic where Oracle’s been running a misinformation op by harnessing Bruce Wayne/Batman Shippers.

The Fisher Prince by Arctic_Cyclist

3.4k, complete. Damian vs Poison Ivy during the Batman Reborn era. This fic has rich prose, cool lore, and Damian kicking ass through superior ecological praxis.

these crosses by mintchocochips (@mintchocochipsposts)

7.1k, complete. Post-No Man’s Land Helena Bertinelli character study my beloved! Also features a fun Tim & Helena scene for fellow fans of their dynamic.

There is no milk! by chucklesbuckles

2.1k, complete. A fic where Catherine is alive when Jason dies. The start of a Red Hood!Catherine AU, but hasn’t actually gotten to that part in the series yet. It does an excellent job at capturing Catherine’s grief. (Note: This fic is only available to read if you have an AO3 account)

They move and it's fire by Arctic_Cyclist

1.5k, complete. Dick and Damian doing gymnastics together and Damian being recognized as Talia’s son.

when the bodies hit the floor by nashequilibrium

7k, complete. A fun Steph & Damian teamup where they take on a ghost at a sleepover gone wrong with some really fun to read prose.

[beelmons]

I literally do one liners, like "X finds themselves in this situation and at the end they solve it by doing X" or work a prestablished prompt and add to it.

Most of the time though my prompts come to me in dialogues or scenes, so i write it in a very detailed fashion and then think everything needed to build up to it and every consequence that might come from it and boom, a story is born

How are you guys doing summaries/structure before you start writing?

[somefanficrecomendations]

January Monthly Roundup

BATFAMILY

Three’s a Crowd (But I’m Here if You Are) by JUBE514 (Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake/Conner Kent) 20k, Identity Reveal, Fluff      Bernard pops the top off his water bottle, a roll of his wrist at the perfect angle and it comes right off, and pops the faucet in Tim’s very nice kitchen to cold. Tim presses a kiss to the back of Bernard’s neck before Tim moves to the fridge to get his own water.      Bernard used to not drink as much water, but Tim drinks enough water for three people a day so Bernard naturally has followed- and now Bernard has no acne so he’s sort of mad about it actually. “The main character has two hands.” Bernard chimes easy and teasing. “Polygamy is the awnser here babe.”      Tim peaks over the door of the fridge. “Oh? Is this you telling me something?” —      Tim Drake, Bernard Dowd, and Kon-El have two hands each. They use them to hold onto each other.

My Evil Twin From Another Universe by FabulaRasa (Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne) 22k An interdimensional anomaly strands another version of Hal in this universe, and two Hal Jordans in one universe is several Hal Jordans too many.

this week in heroblr by UnidentifiedFroggy (multi) 22k, WIP, Social Media, okay im sorry y'all did SUPERBOY just say he's a tumblrina??? #SUPERBOY AS IN KON EL AS IN SUPERMANS CLONE #DIED IN THE CRISIS SUPERBOY #holy shit #superblr #heroblr - a viewpoint into tumblr as it might exist within my own exceedingly self-indulgent form of the dc universe, told through epistolary fashion in batfamily social media fic tradition. features heroes getting cancelled, takes of middling veracity, plenty of queerness both on heroblr and in the hero community, my self-indulgent ships, and something vaguely resembling plot and lore told obliquely through tumblr drama and outsider pov interpretations of superheroes

The Big Boss by Crowlows19 (gen) 4k, POV Outsider The story of Bruce Wayne and his family as told by his insane Wayne Enterprises calendar and the poor assistant that had to manage it all.

Batman for Dummies by Havendance (gen) 38k, No Man’s Land, Helena Bertinelli-centric In the aftermath of the quake that shook Gotham, Helena Bertinelli takes on the mantle of the Bat. (It isn’t like Batman’s using it.) If she’d known the cowl came with a certain moralizing little bird following her around — well, she probably still would’ve done it, but it would’ve been nice to know in advance. (Or: Tim and Helena team up 2: electric boogaloo. Now with more bats!)

Older Sibling Duty by Icestorm238 (gen) 2k, Batfam Names are important. The Bats tend to bypass their real names, however, in favour of increasingly dumb nicknames. The older sibling trio of Dick, Jason, and Cass are the primary instigators of this. After all, it is their duty.

AITAH For Tricking My Brother Into Drugging My Other Brother? by TaxiCabToSlowtown (gen) 1k, Social Media, Am I the Asshole? Okay, look, I know how that sounds, but hear me out. My (M, 19, "Fred") little brother (17, I’ll call him “Percy”) has problems. These problems stem a lot from the fact that his parents abandoned him for long periods of time as a kid and he didn’t have a proper upbringing. I should mention that Percy’s parents then are not the same as our parent(s) now. We’re both adopted, and I’m messed up too, I’ll admit it. Our Father (45, I’ll call him “Arthur”) had sort of turned his house into a home for kids with really traumatic families.

Welcome to the Family by ViiA01 (Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne) 67k, WIP, Batfam Bruce’s children want to meet the man that their father deemed worthy of a smile. So they do, in the only way they know how. By breaking into people's houses and lurking in dark places. Bruce just wants his children to stop stalking Earth’s Green Lantern, if only because they're ruining his plans. And Hal? Well, Hal is convinced that Bruce has concocted a plot to get around his ‘no killing’ rule, by having his children stalk him until his heart gives out from the stress.

A Series of Unfortunately Timed Coming Out's by Queerbutstillhere (multi), 7k, Coming Out The batfamily had this gift.  This wonderful skill. They are such talented, brilliant, capable individuals. But they are absolutely horrendous at wisely timing coming out to their family members. These are their stories . Aka: "I love you all but could we stop coming out to each other during the middle of battles?"

Call to a Lonely Earth by Drag0nst0rm (gen), 7k, Angst, AU-17776 Fusion There are no children left in Gotham. Not until the multiverse spits one out right in front of Batman, at least.

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous (gen), 13k, Vegas Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

CROSSOVER

Keystone by Kalinjdra (gen), 26k, WIP, HPxDC Harry Potter double-checked his lists before sending off the letter to an unknown cousin. He hoped for maybe some money at least, he didn't expect to get a scary bodyguard brother instead. Jason Todd has never stopped searching for his real parents so when Tim offers solid information in exchange of taking care of some kid, he really doesn't have anything else to do but take it. No one really could have foretold what followed.

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Eleven

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: MORE FLUFF, a bit of anxiety (good & bad) , intrusive thoughts, a little flirting, and Jacob is smooth as HELL this chapter folks. (I simply don't have a lot of warnings for you this week but we are RAPIDLY approaching the chapters that will have warnings do not fret, my loves!)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Charlotte battles her silly little brain about what happened, deciding to confide in one of our favorite people. They help her rationalize a little and boy does that pan out nicely for Miss Charlotte.

Author's Note: I love them, I love them, I love them. I was kicking my feet and blushing while writing this chapter, honestly! They are so so cute together and we are getting into the fun part of the story and I'm excited for you guys to enjoy it with me 🤭💕

You're Not Special, Babe - Orla Gartland "Some people don't stick around, But, don't let yourself down. Find the ones that get you, Stick to them like hot glue."

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

I can hear my phone vibrating in the other room as I make my coffee. Who would be texting me this early? Well, other than Jacob, he seemingly just never sleeps. I grab the mug carefully, taking little sips as I head back to my couch to continue getting some work done. 

Quinn: Gooooooooodmorning Charmander! 

Quinn: Is there something I should know? 

Quinn: I just got to the boy’s apartment to surprise Josh and Jake is smiling like the Cheshire Cat at his coffee 😌

I feel my smile start to sneak out; that’s so cute. My thumbs hesitate to tell them everything. I mean, if you don’t tell them, I’m sure Josh will.  

Charlotte: lol um well 🫣

Quinn: hang on 

Before I have time even to think, my phone is ringing. 

“Hi there,” I answer, chuckling at how fast they managed to call. 

“WHAT HAPPENED?” they whisper yell into the phone. “I just ran out of the apartment for this; you better spill.” 

The thought of them running right past Jacob to call me makes it even funnier.

“Okay, fine,” I start. “I may have kissed him.” My hand flies up to cover my mouth because I didn’t hear it until just now. 

“OH MY GOD,” they practically yelp into the phone, “AHHHHH.” 

My face is absolutely beat red by this point, and I manage to squeak out a little, “I know.” 

“How was it? What happened? I need to know EVERYTHING.” 

My mind races back to the moment I decided to go for it. His sweet face only lit up from the street lamps, the way his thumb was rubbing the back of my hand, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how soft his lips looked. Remembering my promise to Cass that I would give it a shot if I found a long-haired, soft, nerdy boy. I couldn’t restrain myself anymore when I leaned in, just kissing the corner of his mouth, hoping it would be enough for him to know that I also wanted it. I had caught him looking at my mouth enough the last couple of hours; I knew he had been thinking about it. 

The look on his face when I pulled back, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, and I swear he could hear my thoughts screaming, “Please kiss me, for the love of god.” His soft voice asked if it was okay before he finally went for it. I’d never felt such a relief. The second his lips pressed into mine, it was like nothing mattered. Breathing him in, the feeling of his hands holding my jaw, his fucking smile when we couldn’t figure out how to stop. His kiss was better than anything I could have imagined.  I don’t know what happened in that moment, honestly. I felt like I could have kissed him for hours, but it wouldn’t have been enough. He held onto me like I was made of porcelain, so gentle but like he couldn’t let go, or I’d break. It’s hard to believe that he hasn’t spent much time in relationships or with someone in general with the way he knows what he’s doing. 

If it wasn’t the way his lips were moving, it was the placement of his hands—the subtle, soothing feeling of his thumbs rubbing my cheekbones. His voice really was lethal at the moment. All he said was, “So.. uh,” and I already felt myself melting back into him; I couldn’t resist the smile when I went back for more. 

The butterflies in my stomach when he needed one more kiss before I could leave. There’s something about him that makes my head spin when I’m around him, and I wish I could figure it out. 

“Why do I want to cry?” Quinn finally says, after my long-winded explanation of the night before. 

“It was really so cute,” I join in. 

“How do you feel about it?” 

Scared. Not good. Unwell. BAD. 

I hesitate, “I uh-” I don’t know what to say about it.  

“Charlotte, it’s okay if you enjoyed it.”

I can’t find words to say, so I just wait for them to continue. 

“I just mean- don’t overthink it! Which I feel like you’re doing with how quiet you are.” 

I finally spit out, “What if it was just like .. heat of the moment? I don’t know.”

They laugh quietly, “I don't think Jake would still be giggling like a little girl if it was just a momentary thing.”

“It was a good kiss..” I admit, but my face still feels hot. 

“I bet it was! I’ve always wondered if he kisses the same way as Josh because they’re–” 

“QUINN!”

“IT’S JUST THE INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, LOTTIE,”

I feel my phone vibrate against me; a notification drops down: another email from my boss. I don’t want to open that. Hopefully, for your sake, he’s not mad.  I have no self-control when it comes to working, though, so I put Quinn on speaker so I can read the email quickly. 

‘Charlotte, How are things going? I know we discussed you working remotely temporarily, but I’m just following up on how long you think you’ll need to be out of the office. This really isn’t something we’re supposed to be doing, but you’ve been keeping up with your work, so I’m not going to say anything. Please let me know what your timeline is looking like so we can discuss how to continue further.

Breathing out a sigh quietly, I’ll deal with that later. I’m still battling the urge to tell him that I’m grieving and that he’s being insensitive to that. Especially given that I’ve never needed more than a day or two off of work for any other reason. 

They pull me back to reality and say, “Maybe you just need to see how you feel the next time you see him.”

“Maybe,” I breathe out. It’s just a job, it’s just a job, it’s just a job. 

“You can debunk the fluke concept you have floating around in that pretty head of yours. Because for as much as I know Jake, he wouldn’t do anything unless there was some emotion behind it. He’s not a one-night stand type of boy, I can tell you that.”

My heart beats harder in my chest, listening to them talk about him, “I’m inclined to believe you. He doesn’t strike me as one.”

“No, he’s the definition of a hopeless romantic if I’ve ever met one.”

I don’t know if that helps, but it definitely makes me want to see him tonight. 

My brain moves faster than my mouth can, “Do you know if Mel is working tonight?” 

“I can ask, hold on.” 

I listen to the sounds of them making their way back into the apartment, the door shutting, before listening to their conversation.

‘Hey, Jack Sparrow, is Mel working tonight?’

‘Uhh, yes, I think Josh is training her for a bit. She won’t be in long, though.’

‘Oooo okay..’ 

‘Why?’

‘Willa and I are getting together, and we were gonna see if she wanted to join us, and you’re a psycho who’s already awake, so saving myself the hassle, okaaaaay thank you.’

The door creaks again as they whisper, “Okay, did you hear that or-”

“I did,” I laugh quietly. 

“So, are you going to test some theories tonight?” they ask, and I can see the smile on their face. 

“I think I just might.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the bar is torture. My mind raced the entire way there. 

Well, maybe I should just see what happens. I’m going to be around him tonight, so maybe he’ll try to make another move or something. 

 I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. 

Because Cassie would want me to just not listen to you in this scenario. 

Okay, but if you’re hesitant, maybe just.. Don’t. 

I have always been hesitant, and this is the only way I’m going to get over it. 

Shouldn’t your job be more important than him? 

My heart aches at the thought. The flash of Cass’s face in my mind, ‘it’s just a job, babe.’ I tried to fight it then, and my brain is trying to fight it now. 

Maybe she is right; it’s just a job. I need to live.

It’s a good job that you worked incredibly hard for, though. 

I shake my head, trying to stop the negative thoughts from winning; I reach over and turn my music up louder to drown them out. 

Walking into the bar, my stress is high, and there is no way someone won’t pick up on it. I wave at Josh and Melody as I walk through the bar. Both of them are focused on whoever they’re talking to, but they shoot me a smile as I come in. I point to Jacob’s office a few times, and Josh nods quickly. 

My shoulders feel like they’re at least up to my ears; as I get to his office, the door is open as usual. Leaning into the doorframe, I quietly knock.

“Hey you, can I leave my-“ I start, but I’m taken aback when he turns around from his desk. It felt like time had slowed down as his long hair flowed in the self-created wind from turning around. His brown eyes instantly met mine, lighting up like a little kid on Christmas. His smile grew in a second from his natural state to a big, toothy grin.  He immediately became attentive when he heard my voice, which was wild to witness. My shoulders slowly drop from their heightened state, and my chest feels lighter, like all the tension melted away. “Uh- my bag in here?” I ask.

“Hi,” he finally says. “Of course you can.” Holding his hand out, I slide my bag off and take the little notebook out before handing it to him. 

“I know Mel’s not here for too much longer tonight, but I figured we could get through some while we had the chance,” I tell him. I don’t know why I’m explaining myself so thoroughly; he knows it’s the only reason I'm here. 

“Sounds wonderful,” he says. “Just let me know if you need me.” The softness of his voice makes me feel warm like being wrapped in a hug. I take a second to look at him before turning out of his office. I think I want to kiss him again. Oh no.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It’s another night of watching Mel do a great job, knowing I don’t need to be here. I explain little things to her in between watching her mix drinks. Jacob really is lucky to have her here; she’s a natural at this. 

“I know you haven’t been here long,” Mel says, “but I need to leave in like ten minutes if that’s okay?” 

“Oh, that’s completely fine. I had nothing going on, so I figured we’d get more taken care of while I had the time,” I told her as if I would be doing anything else besides answering emails.  She wanders off to clean and take a few more orders before needing to leave. 

Jacob, finally emerging from his office, carefully walks behind Josh while saying ‘hello’ to some of the regulars who sat at the bar. He’s just in a regular t-shirt today, and something about being able to see his bare arms folded across him as he talks to them has me in a chokehold. The flex of his forearms made my mouth run dry. 

“How are we doing, Red?” He asks as he sauntered over to me. 

“I can’t complain,” I say, unable to hold back a smile as he looks at me. The moment of him smiling after kissing me plays in my head as he stands there. “How are you?” 

He pauses, looking at my lips not so subtly, before saying, “Never been better.” He turns to Melody, leaning close to her ear as she pours a beer, and she just nods in response. 

“Are you gonna hang out for a little bit?” He asks, glancing over at me as he pours a beer for someone. 

“I can,” I say, leaning forward and resting into my hand. “If you want me to,” 

The cute little smirk on his face was really enough of an answer, but still, he says, “I think you should.” 

No, I definitely want to kiss him again.   ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I sat there for a while, watching him work while he found excuses to stay near where I was sitting. We were casually talking about whatever we could. It felt like we were friends when we got to just talk to each other, which is crazy because we just met, but I also didn’t want to stop talking to him. 

“What have you been reading?” he asks, wiping the already clean bar top in front of me. 

Remembering the few books sitting on my coffee table, and they’re all romance. 

“Oh, just a little romance, nothing crazy,” I try to spit out rather quickly. His smile is torture enough; I can see the small laugh he barely lets come out as his chest vibrates a little. 

“I feel like I need to read one since you seem to like them so much,” he says, making my body feel hot when he does. Why was that..? Also, the last thing I need is for him to get more ideas. 

My uncomfortable laugh escapes me before I can stop it, “Maybe you should.” WHAT DID I JUST SAY? 

“If you bring me one, I’ll do it.” 

I quite literally can not do this to myself, but also, why is he doing THIS to ME? 

His eye contact doesn’t falter as I ask him, “Are you sure?” 

He slowly nods once before letting out a quiet, “Very.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Naturally, when it was late enough, and I forced myself to stand up from the barstool I was sitting in, he refused to let me walk to my car alone. Any excuse to get him alone, I’ll take it. 

“Do you have any wild plans since Mel is off tomorrow?”

I let out one good laugh, “I’m not much of a ‘wild plans’ kind of girl.” 

“I can't really argue that,” he chuckles, “I’m not either.” 

“Unless ‘wild’ is being in the bar, then you may be the craziest person I know,” I tease. 

He stops walking, and his jaw slacks as I turn around, making me laugh. 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic!” 

He just stands there, arms folded across his chest as he pouts. I take a few steps towards him, watching him fight the smile that’s so close to coming out. 

“Jacob,” I whine, “come oooonnnnn.”  Walking right up to him, his eyes on me the entire time. I grab his arms and pull them down from his chest, sliding my hands into his. My 

“Please,” I whisper, leaning into his chest a bit and pouting my lip at him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he whispers back, leaning his forehead against mine for a second. Only letting go of one hand before walking again, he tugs me along with him. I need him to kiss me.

My stomach turns as we get closer to my car; I don’t know why I’m so nervous this time. He hasn’t let go of my hand even though we’re within steps of my car, and I can feel my heart rate start to speed up. What if he doesn’t kiss me? Am I stupid for thinking maybe it wasn’t just a fluke? 

He stops at the door, his hand reaching for the handle but hesitating. He looks down for a second, and all I can focus on is him. Turning to face me, he backed up and leaned against my car; wow, he’s really so hot. He pulls me to him, and his free hand grabs the nape of my neck as he leans in. Our lips crashed together, feverish as we both needed it; it felt desperate. I can’t stop grabbing his shirt, wanting to be closer to him. 

He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. The only sound is our heavy breathing, his lips curling up into a smile as he looks at me. 

He whispers, “You’ll let me know when you make it home?” 

“Mhm,” I hum quickly. My hands find the sides of his face, pulling him back in, not ready to be done.  We fall into the same situation as last night, giggling and pressing small pecks into each other because neither of us knows how to stop. Or want to stop. He starts trailing kisses to my jaw, placing one underneath my ear that sends chills through my body. 

“Jake!” I yelp between laughs as he’s practically curled into my neck. I can feel his smile against my skin. His arms tighten around me, and my heart flutters as he lets a little ‘mmm’ slip out against my neck. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you get home.” His hand reached back and opened my door for me. I move around him, sitting in the driver's seat and tossing my bag onto the floor. My hand found his quickly, pulling him towards me. He leans down, and I can’t stop myself from grabbing his face, pressing my lips into him again, feeling the butterflies in my stomach as he giggles into me. 

He manages to mumble between kisses, “Drive safe, hun.” 

“I’ll try,” I say before he kisses my cheek and stands up before I try to get the last one. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

If I thought the drive to the bar was terrible, I had no idea how much worse the drive home would be. 

I pull into the driveway, sitting there for a second before convincing myself to go inside. I pulled out my phone as I walked through the door, knowing I had a few things I needed to do now that I was home. 

Me: I made it ☺️ 

Texting him first so he knows I’m home and safe it’s what I would want people to do for me. I debate whether I should pull the trigger on the next text I’m considering. 

Me: ummm… are you awake? 

Quinn: obviously 👀  

It’s okay to confide in people. Cass isn’t physically here anymore, so I need to let people in. 

Me: let’s just say- the results are in.. it wasn’t a fluke. 🤭

Quinn: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

Quinn: WAIT- I know some people that will be SO excited about this 

What do they mean by “some people” will be excited? When a new group message pops up with Quinn, Melody, and an unknown number. 

Quinn: LAID EASE- 

Unknown: what now Q

Ohhh- it’s Willa, okay. 

Melody: 👀 

Quinn: first of all, say hi to Charlotte. She comes bearing piping hot TEAAAAA. 

Me: hi 😳 

Willa: CHARLOTTE. I AM SAT GIRL. 

Melody: I feel like I know where this is going 🤭

Me: Well umm so I may have kissed Jacob 🫣

Willa: STOP OMFG 

Mel: I KNEW HE WAS UP TO SOMETHING WHEN HE WANTED YOU TO STAY LONGER. 

Quinn: I TOLD YALL IT WAS GOOD !! 

Willa: well now we need the details! 

Me: from the first one? 

Melody: FIRST?

Willa: HOW MANY KISSES WERE THERE? 

Me: I just mean-

Me: A lot.. but just the past two days.

Quinn: we got all night Lottie go on 

I quickly recap the other two on what I’ve already told Quinn. While giggling while recounting the many kisses I’ve shared with Jacob tonight, he texts me back. 

Jacob: oh good even if I’m a bit bummed about it. 

Me: lol why are you sad I made it home?! 

Jacob: well, making out with a beautiful girl makes for a way better night than pouring beer for old men

My face heats up at his reply, unprepared for him to be so forward. A little flirting doesn’t hurt, though. I’ve already kissed him, so I may as well have a little fun. 

Me: Missing me already? 🥰

Jacob: enough that I’ve been debating on FaceTiming you

Me: I wouldn’t say no 

He’s so cute. My heart swells at the thought. Not even a minute goes by before my phone lights up to his call. 

“Well, hello again,” I say, curling up in the corner of the couch. 

“How was your drive home?” He asks. 

Painful.

“Felt like forever,” I mindlessly let out, why did I do that? My face feels warm, and I quickly try to recover. “Aren’t you working?” 

“I was,” he sighs, walking up the stairs to his apartment, “but Josh had it covered, and this sounded better.”  His little smirk as he says it makes my stomach turn. 

“Oh?” my hand covers my mouth, knowing that I’m definitely making it worse. 

He lets out a small ‘mhm’ as he’s unlocking his door. I find myself staring at him quietly for a moment, admiring his features as he looks through his kitchen for food. I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t even talked to anybody long enough to develop feelings for them in years. Let alone whatever THIS is.  

I pull up my texts and click on the group chat, hoping they can help. 

Me: I’m on FaceTime with him SOS

Willa: Of course you are 

Quinn: CUTIES 

Me: No really, I have no idea what i’m doing please help 

Quinn: with what? 

Me: I don’t know how to flirt with someone! Especially when I’m sober!! 

Willa: I don’t think you’d need to say much to get him flustered 

Willa: Poor guy practically has cobwebs on him with the lack of action he’s gotten

Quinn: She’s not wrong  

Quinn: what is he saying 👀

“What are you gonna make tonight?” I ask to break the silence. 

He lets out a small sigh, “I’m not sure. I’m tempted to steal Josh’s food again, but he may quit me if I do that.” He just shuts the fridge door, leaning onto the counter in front of wherever he’s propped up his phone. “I may just starve at this rate.”

“Oh we’re just being dramatic tonight, huh?” I tease. Because he’s so calm and seemingly level-headed about most things, watching him have his moments of over-dramaticamatic is fun for me. 

He chuckles before squinting at me, “Could just be me, but I think you’re enjoying it.” His damn eyebrow pops up as he looks at me. I like it a lot, actually. 

“It’s cute.” 

Me:  He’s just being dramatic and goofy right now

Quinn: JAKE? DRAMATIC? SINCE WHEN?

I audibly laugh at their response, forgetting I’m on Facetime with him right now. 

His eyebrows pull in as he looks at me, almost like he wants to ask why. 

“Sorry, Quinn texted me,” I giggled, trying to recover smoothly. “They’re a little too funny sometimes.” 

“They’re practically an extension of my brother, so you have gained yourself a yapper,” he giggles through the end of it. 

It warms my heart knowing that Quinn is like that; since Cass doesn’t blow up my phone anymore, it might be nice. “That’s okay with me.” 

“I’m glad you two get along,” he says, “They’re definitely a bit more tame than Josh, so if you can handle my brother, you’ll be fine.” 

“I think Josh is sweet!” 

“Well, of course. He’s sweet to you but a menace to me.” 

I laugh at the thought of their brotherly banter, imagining it must be ridiculous given how much of their lives they have spent and currently spend together. They must get sick of each other? I don’t think I could live with a sibling AND work with them. 

“Can I say something? It might sound weird, though,” he timidly asks, bringing my attention back to him. 

I nod at him, “Of course.” 

“I wish I could see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. All you have to do is ask. The little bit of pink creeping into his cheeks, selling him out. How I wish I could kiss every inch of his face right now. 

My heartbeat feels loud when I whisper, “Me too.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Ten

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[franollie]

i finished batgirl (2000) and i loved it so muchhhh i cant even put it into words aaaaaahhhh

anyways do you have any more recs for Cass, Steph or Babs bc i need more (also any fic recs too?)

OKOK so I recommend this reading list for both steph and cass by @/jlquarterly. they also have a more condensed reading list for steph and cass individually as well as more extensive ones for them too. overall just a great account to follow if you need reading lists.

Some overall reads that I recommend:

Cass:

Batman (1940) #567

Detective Comics (1937) #734

(No Man's Land in general is a good read for cass but these are considered her first appearances)

DC First: Batgirl/Joker

Superboy (1994) #85 (i love this issue it is very dear to me)

Steph:

Detective Comics (1937) #647-649

Secret Origins 80 Page Giant

honestly all of Robin 1993 starting with issue #3

Robin (1993) #88 (Steph and Cass first meeting)

Batman: Huntress/Spoiler- Blunt Trauma (HELENA AND STEPH YIPPEEE)

Batgirl (2009)

Babs:

The Batman Chronicles #5 (Oracle: Year One)

All of Birds of Prey 1999

General "batgirls" recs:

Convergence: Batgirl

Steph works in the medical field, the writers acknowledge her pregnancy, its about her relationship with the batgirl mantle, steph and cass live together and have a pet rat together, it's literally perfect

Batgirls

This is where we play the "pick and choose from canon" game

Fics:

Let's Not Talk About It by Procrastinationfairy

T - 4k

Summary: cass explores how words fail to describe feelings, especially in terms of attraction.

MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

God this fic....here to start. I'm obsessed with the way it tackles cass’s feelings for steph and the lack of language she would have for her emotions…insane...Her anger at tim for not “properly mourning” steph

If taken, I'm yours by evanescent

T - 8k

Summary: Sheer determination is not everything, though, and after exactly eight seconds Stephanie finds herself laying flat on her back after getting knocked down with a very real-feeling baseball bat. For a moment, she thinks the strange sound is her ears ringing, but then she sits up and finds Batgirl standing next to Batman, her shoulder shaking slightly. She’s laughing, Stephanie realizes. Batgirl must catch her staring because she makes a quick, swiping motion with her hand.

“I think,” Batman says, and Stephanie wonders if she has a concussion after all, because he kind of sounds amused, “she’s telling you to be faster.”

In a world when you have your soulmate's first words to you imprinted in their handwriting somewhere on your body, the fact Stephanie can't decipher hers seems like the least of her problems, most of the time.

A really sweet rewrite of Steph as batgirl

ALSO EMILY DICKINSONS POETRY PLAYS A REALLY BIG ROLE IN THIS <3333

heroes and thieves at my door (i can't seem to tell them apart anymore) by hinn_raven

T - 4k

Summary: Bruce really can’t help but think that Stephanie Brown, pre-medicine, piano player, and honors student, with Leslie vouching for her, would be a far better girlfriend for his daughter than Spoiler, the new vigilante in town.

This one has me kicking and giggling every time i read it

It's delightful and funny and just an overall good time

Now Stick It Thick by thebodydies

E - 1k

Summary: Cass’s body always did exactly what Cass wanted. And now Steph’s body did as well.

nobody look at me

Highly recommend checking out all of Hinn_Raven's works especially if you're a steph fan!

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds

  Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. Violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, curse words. Not proof read.

word count: 4k+.

Author’s note: I’m sorry I’m so late with this. I don’t even know what to say anymore, thank you for keeping up with me. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

“It’s alright, just breathe,”

There’s warmth against my forehead, and the words are a soft breath against my skin. I feel like every bone in my body has locked me into place, a prison, and I can’t move, I can’t breathe. 

The dark pit that has opened in my gut threatens to devour me whole and I recognise its numbness. It’s beckoning me to let go, to embrace it. A gentle, soothing  touch at my back it’s the only thing that’s keeping me anchored to reality, red and gold it’s all I’ve been staring at for what feels like an eternity. 

“Easy, dove.”

Cassian. Cassian is here. He’s enveloped me with his wings into a cocoon, a shelter against the world, his forehead is pressed against mine and he keeps rubbing circles between my shoulderblades. Some distant sense of self is returning to me, barely enough for me to turn my head and look at him. Dark hazel eyes stare back at me and the similarity to that other pair of eyes makes it almost unbearable to keep looking at them, my chest aches and I want to pull away. But Cass holds firm, strong hands holding my arms as he inhales deeply, motioning me to follow. 

I took one pathetic shuddering breath, two. My racing heart started to slow down and cool air flowed to my lungs. 

“There you go…” He hummed. 

Once I’m settled back into myself and my limbs don’t feel nearly as stiff as before, he slowly pulls away, allowing me to take in my surroundings. We’ve moved to the balcony outside one of the guest rooms, somehow. When did he even show up?

“Rhys called me, and told me what happened. How are you feeling?” His voice was so full of concern.

I shook my head, how could I put it into words? Was this what he felt every time Nesta slept with someone else? Was this what Rhys felt while Feyre was still with Tamlin? I knew Azriel fancied Elain, and I knew it was reciprocated. So why did it hurt so much to see it now? 

“Cass, he’s my—”

Mate. The word burned on my tongue. I couldn’t pronounce it. 

With each time I thought about it, the word lost a bit more of its meaning. I damned the Cauldron and the Mother for mating us; it was supposed to be something special, something that didn’t happen to most Fae, and if it did you were one lucky bastard. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. But for me? It meant nothing. The bond only brought me pain and unrequited feelings, unwanted feelings. 

“I know, Rhys knows too,” he whispered.  

“How?” I asked, blinking away the dampness in my eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter now, dove, I need to know if you’re going to be ok” His eyes 

were so gentle, so understanding. 

I swallowed dry and nodded slowly. I remembered then that Lucien was looking for me and guilt tripped up my spine. How was I supposed to tell him what I saw?

“Cass, where is Lucien?” 

“I told him you weren’t feeling right and sent him home. He left something for you.” Cassian handed me a carefully wrapped package. For the looks of it, it was either a box or a book.  

“I have to talk to him.” 

I tore open the envelope, it was an old beautiful book, brown and gold and red. “Myths of the world” read the title, the author unknown. I hadn’t seen anything like this before.  It didn’t belong to Prythian, this book came from the mortal lands. 

Lucien saw this book during one of his journeys, and thought of me. My heart felt heavy in my chest  just thinking about the hurt I was going to cause him by speaking the truth about tonight.

“You can’t tell him anything, Y/N;”  Cassian’s tone was considerate yet firm. I frowned. 

“If it was the other way around he would tell me, Cass. He’s my friend…” 

“I’m your friend too, and I understand, but I’m asking you to wait. Please, let Rhys handle this or it can get really messy.” 

“Things are already too messy.”

With trembling fingers I dive between the first pages, it was a little worn around the edges but well kept, surely a loved book. One  particularly page caught my attention, it had dedicatory written in very polished handletter: 

“I don’t know if there’s proof of other worlds coexisting out there, but I hope you may find exciting ones within these stories.” 

More often than not, Lucien caught me late at night curled around the fireplace, a blanket thrown lazily over my legs and nose buried deep in some book about portals to other worlds, myths and legends, the old history and so and so. That sort of thing that has always called to me since I was a kid, more than curiosity I felt a pull towards it, as if I could feel the history of the universe in my veins. I never told anyone about it before, it seemed silly, I didn’t have proof of anything, it was more like a sense of the otherworldly. I felt ancient and new, vast and empty, all at the same time. The last time I experienced something like that Feyre had still been pregnant with Nyx, I remember feeling like my mind had been split for a moment, allowing me to experience reality both through my own person and through someone or something else’s eyes. I ended up throwing up that night, and Azriel had found me passed out on the floor of the living room. No one asked any questions, but Lucien had noticed. 

I sighed and closed the book, returning my attention to the worried-looking Illyrian in front of me.  “He’ll hate me if he finds out and I knew all along. I can’t have him hate me, Cass.” 

I can’t have him hate me too. 

“He won’t hate you dove, that’s just impossible”.

I shook my head, “Can you just take me home please?” 

“Of course,” He didn’t hesitate to scoop me up in his arms and take to the skies. 

The wind whipped through the night sky as Cassian soared gracefully, his wings beating rhythmically against the air currents. Beside him, I clung tightly to his muscular frame, my grip tightened unconsciously with each passing moment. The journey back to the House of Wind was filled with a heavy silence, as I wrestled with the weight of my thoughts and emotions.

Finally, the grand structure came into view, perched majestically atop the cliffs. Cassian gently landed, his powerful wings folding behind him as he turned to face me. His cobalt eyes searched mine, brimming with concern and curiosity. He paused, probably sensing the turmoil underneath, and waited patiently for me to find the courage to speak.

With a heavy sigh, I took a step back and looked up at the towering residence. "Cassian," I started, voice tinged with a mix of determination and sadness, "I’m leaving the court. I've made a decision... I'm going to accept Helion's offer."

Cassian's brow furrowed, a mixture of surprise and worry crossing his features. He reached out, his hand finding mine in a reassuring grip. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. "You know the risks involved, the dangers that lie beyond our borders. The Night Court is your home, with friends who care for you."

My gaze followed the distant horizon, already feeling that curl of longing and uncertainty in my gut. "I understand the risks, Cass," I replied softly. "But I can't ignore the chance to make a difference, to find my own path and discover who I truly am, what I could do. I've always felt like I'm in the shadow of others, and maybe... maybe this is my opportunity to shine."

Cassian's grip on my hand tightened, his voice filled with earnestness. "You don't need to leave to find your purpose. You have friends here who believe in you, who will stand by your side no matter what. We can face the challenges together, as a family."

Tears welled in my eyes as conflicting emotions tugged at my heart. I wanted to believe in the strength of these bonds, in the safety and comfort of the Night Court. But a flicker of determination remained, whispering promises of self-discovery and growth. I looked back at Cassian, voice trembling but resolute. "I love you Cass, and I’m deeply grateful for everything the Night Court and all of you have given me, but I have to do this. Please understand."

Cassian's gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escaped my eye. He took a deep breath, his voice filled with unwavering support. "If this is truly what you want, then I won't stand in your way. But remember, you will always have a home in the Night Court, we will be here for you whenever you need us. And I can still kick Azriel’s ass for you."

He joked and a small smile broke through my lips despite the anguish. “I don’t want him to know, let’s just keep this between us for now, alright? I’ll tell Rhys tomorrow.” 

“Alright.” He whispered and brushed a kiss to my temple. 

We just stood there for a moment, embraced by the cool night breeze, letting all the events of the night sink in. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later. 

The frozen landscape stretched endlessly before our eyes, a harsh and unforgiving terrain that mirrored the tensions between me and the Shadow Singer. The mission to track down the slavers had brought us to this desolate place, where the biting cold seemed to seep into our very souls. Yet, it was the icy atmosphere between us that threatened to shatter the fragile alliance.

We hadn’t spoken a word since last Solstice’s party, and I hadn’t seen him around either. I still couldn’t shake the weight of that awful look he gave me that night, it didn’t help that he looked on the verge of ripping my head off. I just didn��t understand, we were sort of alright at some point and then he just went back to hating me, as if some switch had gone off inside of him. 

As we trudged through the snow, our breath crystallizing in the frigid air, the silence grew heavy with unspoken accusations. I just couldn't bear the weight of Azriel's distrust any longer, it was making me anxious and angry. Whatever it was that got him so mad at me I didn’t deserve it, and we couldn’t keep working like that. 

With each step, the tension escalated, until it reached a breaking point. Finally, unable to contain my frustration, I turned to face him, my voice came out  laced with a mix of fury and hurt that I didn’t intend. "If you have something to say, just say it already and be done with this stupid silent treatment."

Azriel's expression hardened, his hazel eyes flashing with a mix of regret and stubbornness. "Why? so you can run and snitch to Rhys about it?"

My hands balled into fists, body trembling with indignation. "What the hell does that mean?” I hissed. 

“You know what it means. I seriously thought about giving you a chance, that I may have judged you wrong. Then I turn around and you pull the bullshit you did on Solstice. I didn’t think you could stood so low as to drag Elain into this mess.” 

“What bullshit? What are you even on about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you called Rhys on us. Are you going to tell me that it was all a coincidence? That you just happened to walk right into the room I was in with Elain, and Rhysand followed you? I see the way you look at her, are you really that envious?”   

A humorless laugh escaped my lips, anger boiling in my veins. “Is this what got you so pissed? You are a bigger asshole than I thought. I didn’t even know you were in there, even less that you were with her. Do you think I give a fuck about who you’re fucking?You're always so quick to judge, to assume the worst of me. You know what? I'm done. Fuck you, Azriel!"

“You’re a cunning bitch, ever so observant, ready to pry into other people’s business; lying is like breathing for you, so why should I believe you? Why else would you happen to be there? Every time something goes wrong you’re in the middle of it!”

“Oh don’t try to blame me for your fuck ups, you dug that hole yourself. We were there because we were looking for you, because I wanted to give you this.” I shoved the little black box against his chest, hard. I had been carrying it with me since that night, its weight had been unbearable. “Happy Solstice, Azriel.” I spat with irony. 

He just stood there, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping his anger at bay, eyes glued to the object now lying in his hands. 

Silence engulfed us once again as the bitter wind whistled through the barren landscape. Our breaths mingled with the frosty air, hanging between us like an unbridgeable chasm. 

“What is this?” he finally dared to ask, his voice cold and calm, distant but not nearly as angry as before. 

I cursed the slight tremor of vulnerability and turned away, already feeling a headache forming.  "You can throw it away if you want, I don’t care. I’m going to scout the land, don’t follow me. And keep your shadows to yourself."  My own voice came out barely above a whisper.

With that, I stormed off, leaving Azriel standing alone amidst the frozen wasteland. The ache of the fractured connection between us weighed heavily on my heart, mingling with the anguish of this mission and the bitter chill of the land. There was really no hope for us, to believe we could be friends again…that had been a foolish mistake. 

For a long while I walked and walked and walked, there had been no sign of any other living creature in hours. The night was starting to grow heavy and the cold unforgiving, I could barely see anything beyond the frozen forest, the small faelight I brought with me doing little to light up the path but I couldn’t risk giving away my position. It felt like I had been walking around in circles, never finding the exit to the forest. I could’ve sworn I passed the same twisted tree four times now, it looked like a giant claw tearing open the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have left on my own. I had a bad feeling about this, it was all strangely silent. 

Just as I spotted a clearing, a familiar scent caught my attention. I haven’t felt that in nearly two centuries, but I remembered it like it was yesterday, sweet and strong and dangerous. My heart dropped to my stomach, and dread spread along my spine. It couldn’t be. He was dead. I had killed him.  

All my alarms went off almost immediately, I turned the faelight off and walked as slowly, as silent as a wrath towards the clearing. I had to squint my eyes to adjust to night vision, avoiding the branches and bigger patches of snow. A dim light appeared on the other side of the woods, floating beside a big shadow. As I came closer I could make the shape of wings, huge membranous wings. I wouldn’t mistake those wings in a thousand years. 

“Azriel?” I asked, low. Not entirely giving away my location still inside the forest’s safety. 

His back was turned to me, and he was standing predatorily still. A glimpse of metal flashed in the dim moonlight, Truth Teller was clutched tightly in his right hand, something dark and sticky dropping to the snow. Blood. The copper tang of it hit my nose a second later. It smelled like him. Was he hurt? 

I scanned the land beyond him, searching for the threat. If I had scented it earlier, probably he did too and found them sooner than I did. 

“Azriel was going on?” I tried again, walking closer. 

Past the shadows that engulfed him a figure lay on the ground, they were kneeling. There was so much more blood around them it was hard to tell if they were still alive. Whoever that was. 

I stepped beside him, my own blade in hand, ready to strike if needed be. But what struck me was the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeling on the frozen ground, wings dropped and bloodied, a gag was pulled tight against his mouth and his eyes were wide, desperate. He grew wild when he saw me, thrashing against an invisible barrier. I turned around, confused and alarmed. The Shadow Singer stared back at me, a sinister smile tugging at his mouth and he launched forward, shoving the blade between my ribs. 

The Azriel on the ground tried to scream against the gag, eyes glazed over with rage. I wanted to reach him, free him from his restraints, but I couldn’t move. The male in front of me twisted the knife still inside my flesh and I let out a cry of pain. It burned like hell and I felt myself starting to get dizzy. Faebane, for sure. 

Hazel eyes turned darker than the night itself, and that pretty face morphed into something half beautiful, half monstrous. Brutal and scarred. I watched in horror as the male of my nightmares appeared in front of me. Demian, Kier’s first born son, alive and here. 

“Did you miss me, wife?” He purred into my ear. 

“RHYS! RHYS!” I tried to desperately call for the High Lord, but the mental channels between us felt distant, my voice sounded like an echo traveling through a never ending tunnel. 

I tried to take a step back but the world started to blur into darkness quickly. The last thing I saw was Demian’s monstrous face smiling down at me. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel. 

The cavern was shrouded in darkness, its oppressive air thick with a sense of impending doom. The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the cold stone walls, as his eyes darted around, desperately searching for any means of escape. Azriel had been awake for a while now, heart pounding wildly against his ribcage at the scene in front of him; Y/N struggled against the coarse chains that bound her wrists, barely conscious due to the bloodlost. 

He had never felt more helpless and stupid. He should have said something, apologize, go after her, make her stay. Azriel still couldn’t believe he fell into  this motherfucker’s illusion, he should have known better. But it had been so real…the look of despair in her face, begging him to save her, as if Demian had known what she looked like, as if he had seen her like that before. Rage boiled in his veins.  Oh, once he got free of this invisible prison he was going to kill him, and he was going to take his sweet time doing so. 

"Azriel..." she whispered his name, her voice barely audible in the silence. The sound carried a mix of longing and worry, it made something crack inside his chest. 

The heavy stone doors groaned open, revealing two figures emerging from the depths of darkness. Demian, a malevolent presence wrapped in darkness, stepped forward with an insidious smile, his eyes glittering with a sinister delight.

Azriel’s shadows were frantic, desperately trying to leak beyond the barrier holding him and reach Y/N, but it was no use. Even his siphons couldn’t break the spell containing him, the strange marks painted on the ground around him seemed to absorb every futile attempt of his power to set him free. 

"Ah, Y/N, lovely to see you again", his voice dripping with malice. "We still have some unfinished business, darling."

Y/N narrowed her gaze, refusing to show her fear and spat on his face. “I don’t know how you’re still alive, but you’re as delusional as I remember.” 

Demian's laughter echoed through the cavern, chilling her to the bone. In his hand, he brandished a wickedly sharp blade, the metal gleaming with malicious intent.

"Perhaps," he sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "But this time I’ll succeed, you’ll pay for what you’ve done, you and your stupid High Lord. There’s no escaping your fate this time."

A weak groan managed to escape Azriel’s bloody lips, and Y/N's eyes filled with dread as she spotted him, chained to a wall, his body battered and bloodied. 

"Azriel!" she cried out, straining against her restraints. "Leave him alone!"

Demian's twisted grin widened, feeding off her anguish and desperation. "Oh, my dear," he taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I plan to make him suffer just enough to ensure your compliance."

Tears welled up in her obsidian eyes as she watched Demian approach him, heart breaking at the sight of her mate's pain. Their connection, their bond, was just a whisper of strength and vulnerability.

"Do not yield, Y/N," Azriel's voice reached her, laced with pain but filled with unwavering resolve. "Don't let him break you."

“Enough!” The other presence in the room raised his voice as he approached the light. It was a dark haired male, tall and slim, a bit ungainly. His skin was a sickly grey-ish pale. Y/N’s eyes widened and tears started to flow freely down her cheeks at the sight of him. “Hello, sister. Long time no see.” He smiled wickedly at her as he anxiously played with the blade in his hands. 

Azriel could recognise its signature darkness capable of absorbing even the light of the sun anywhere. Truth Teller. The bastard was holding his blade. 

“Ajax…” she whispered, almost pleading. 

“We thought you had killed yourself. Imagine my surprise when I saw you at war with Hybern,” Ajax let out a humorless chuckle. “tch, father is so disappointed in you, you made mama cry and all for this?” He pointed at Azriel, still fighting to get free. There was something animalistic and ferocious in his eyes as he watched Damien twist the blade into the membrane of his wings. 

“Stop! Let him go. This is between me and you, he doesn’t have to be here.” 

“Let him go? So you can pull the bullshit you did on your wedding night? I don’t think so. But you wouldn’t dare to do so now, no, you wouldn’t risk hurting your precious Shadow Singer.” He smiled mockingly and slid the sharp edge of Truth Teller along her jaw. “Pitty. You would’ve made such a pretty bride… isn’t that right Demian?” 

Demian’s deformed mouth twisted upwards as he looked her up and down, something dangerous darkening his features. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him and ran a thumb over her lips. “You could have been my queen.”

She spat on his face again. “Go to hell.” 

Ajax slapped her face. “You’ve always been an ungrateful bitch.” 

Wiping his atrocious face clean, Demian stepped forward grabbing Truth Teller from Ajax hands. There was such hatred in their eyes. “Let’s get this over with.” He threw Azriel a wicked grin and slid the sharp edge across Y/N’s wrist. 

The Shadow Singer watched with a mix of fury and desperation as the blade cut into her flesh, eliciting a tortured cry from her lips. He felt it too, the pain, as if it was his own flesh being torn open. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Azriel’s threat echoed through the walls of the frozen cave. 

They both laughed as they carved similar markings to the ones holding him prisoner into her    skin. In her arms, her chest, her legs. She was just a playtoy for them to feed their morbidity. 

There was so much blood everywhere. Demian’s filthy mouth closed around one of the wounds, drinking from her. Her blood, her power, her very essence, while Ajax recited something in a tongue Azriel couldn’t understand. 

The Shadow Singer saw red. Something primal took over his senses, the urge to protect Y/N was stronger than anything, determination surged through his weakened body, and with every ounce of remaining energy, Azriel fought against his restraints. He summoned whatever hidden reserves of strength he possessed, his determination overriding the debilitating effects of the faebane. Sparks of raw power crackled around him as his unyielding rage fueled his desperate struggle for freedom. 

Ajax's full black eyes fell on him, sensing the upcoming battle that was about to be unleashed upon them and slit open Y/N’s other wrist. 

“Let’s go, we got what we need” He urged the blonde male beside him. 

They retreated, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Y/N and Azriel gasping for breath, their bodies battered and broken.

As Azriel's body trembled with exertion, his relentless efforts finally bore fruit. With a surge of sheer willpower, the invisible barrier shattered like fragile glass, freeing him from its confinements. Gasping for breath, his eyes blazed with a mix of determination and wrath as he surveyed the now empty space where the two males had stood. He would hunt them down, to the ends of the earth if needed, to make them pay for what they’ve done; but first he had to take Y/N to safety. 

He turned to face her; the anguish in her eyes mirrored his own, but their connection remained unbroken, he could still feel the sliver of hope amidst the darkness thrumming through that golden thread between their souls. 

She held tight onto that bit of sanity left and muttered the words “I’m sorry” over and over again as her body started to give out. 

Azriel’s whole body started shaking “No, no, no. Stay with me, I’ll get us out. I swear.” 

He rushed to her side, untying her arms and cradling her face. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t winnow and his wings were too damaged to fly. At this point they needed a miracle, he wasn’t a devoted believer in the gods but he would pray to all of them to save her. 

They lied there, in the ground, her face was drained of color and the unforgiving cold was not helping. 

As if in answer to his silent prayers, the stone doors burst open, revealing the High Lord and the General of the Night Court in a state of utter distress. Azriel didn’t know when he had started crying  but he let himself hold onto the tiny bit of hope that they might make it alive.  

"Where are they?" Rhysand's voice boomed with unwavering authority, his power shimmering around him.

The shadow singer shook his head, Y/N was slipping away as they talked. “Please save her” 

Rhysand rushed to their side, cradling her in his arms. Her heartbeat was too weak, her breathing labored. Azriel’s own consciousness was starting to flicker and he could feel the bond beginning to dim. Panic took over his senses, he started fighting against Cassian’s hold just to get to her.

“Az, it 's ok. We’ll meet them back at the House, she’s going to be fine.” Cassian assured him as he took to the skies. 

And he would have believed him if it wasn’t for the exchange of worried looks that transpired between his brothers.

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@cmay25   @brekkershadowsinger   @cosmic-whispers   @h0peless-r0m4ntic888    @esposadomd   @hannzoaks   @tysynn   @i-am-infinite @sevendeadlyshins-blog   @angelshadowsinger   @buckysimp101 @baebeepeach @starswholistenanddreamsanswered   @leeknows-wife   @k07-1313 @valeridarkness @fall-myriad   @goradgirl   @feiwelinchen   @katherine-2007 @colorfulwinnerneva-blog    @lillithathecat @j-pendragonx @ummmmmwat @eviepeo @thelov3lybookworm @emturtles @chillicrackers @bubybubsters @perseflowers @goldenmagnolias @littleshopofwhoress @galla-lotus @weirdo-fun @moonlwghts @t0uch-starved-h0e @wannabewolf @awkwardturtle365 @notbellasstuff @nastynesta  

@nohxmanity @yasminsznn @thesnugglingduck   @anniebannanie0315  @elsie-bells   @highlady-ofillyria   @kodokunarisu-blog @starksweasleymain

If I forgot about someone please let me know :) It won’t let me tag some of you I don’t know why :(

[dcfanfictioncatalogue]

barbara gordon APR 2024 fic awards

BOO. apparently I can actually post twice in a row it's a miracle !!!! also if anyone would like me to do consistent monthly fics for any other characters please just send me a link otherwise I'm going to keep bulldozing my way through all of 2024's barbara gordon fics THIS is cherry's fic awards HERE are my favorite babs fics from april. lot of unfinished chaptered fics here but please give them a shot anyway!!

through the noise and static and the call, by shipyrds (@burins). 4k, E, dinahbabs, 1/2. summary: dinah doesn't even know what the woman looks like. my notes: OHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOD!!!!!!! early bop pre-identity reveal dinahbabs is like my mortal weakness and OH MY FUCKING GODDDDDD. I left a comment on this fic already and like ...... I love this so much. read it right now there isn't much more I can say.

&&

By a Thread (Hanging On), by BingDragon. 1.4k, G, gen. summary: it’s winter in gotham, during the most dangerous time in the city’s history, and cass hasn’t been home for several days. my notes: NML FIC!!!!!! always such an underutilized in fandom event and by god this delivers!!! the babs and cass mother daughter dynamic UGH they make me so sick.... pun not intended lmaoo

&&

Oracle of Jersey, by metroidspeedrun. 3k, T, gen, 2/?, graphic depictions of violence. summary: barbara gordon runs a podcast that results in six teenagers standing over a dead body. my notes: love!! the whole bop cast is here -- charlie, lori, ted! -- and that is always important to me. I can't wait to see how the plot develops!!! I think it's really interesting making a casefic out of a "civilian" au. babs will be babs no matter the setting <3

ask box is open for requests ++ find my fic rec libraries organized here

[britt-kageryuu]

Afternoon Day 1

First | PREV | Next

--------------------------

💙

Leo was enjoying the switch to Meet and Greet, the fact that he was now just talking to fans, and some random people that spotted him while walking past.

His favorite thing to do is ask April to hand him something, and what happens is he opens a small portal just behind the curtain to pass things through, and he'll make a show of recieving and showing it off.

Though one time Cass just chucked a box of tea through the portal so it would hit him in the head. Many leaned around to find out where the stuff was actually going.

Though the small argument with a guy who was offended by Leo just existing for some reason was hit with, "Well I'm not the one arguing with and yelling at with a anthropomorphic Red Eared Slider on a Fancy TV. Now am I?"

Guy nearly punched the screen until April said 'If you break it, it'll cost you 4k to replace the hardware."

Well other then the occasional fan asking how he and Usagi were doing, some genuinely curious people asking about the VTurtles, and some odd photo requests, it was pretty calm.

Though there was one interesting conversation with a Med Student that go some people just watching a Humanoid Turtle and someone dressed as Jason Todd talk about obscure medical terminology.

❤

Raph was feeling awkward about taking over the Live Stream interviews, but at least he could dress up for it.

Many were kinda caught of guard by this tall dude dressed as an apocalypse survivor (think the Kraang Future Raph but human), with a robot turtle on his shoulder, asking if they want to be interviewed.

He got stopped multiple times for pictures, people wanting to compliment the costume, and he had to check on a few people who collided because they go distracted while walking.

Though he also stopped to take some pictures of different Cosplayers, especially the one person dressed as Red Angel.

Though he did have one interesting moment were he helped someone who got hurt, and helped carry them to a medical office. The person had randomly said 'Marry Me', only for Raph to awkwardly reply with, "I have a girlfriend, sorry."

There was a number of posts about this, with quite a few saying 'wish that were me!'

💜💙

Donnie sadly had to return to the booth to let April and Casey have a break. He regretted letting the Dragons have no obligation to help with the booth other than as tech support when he wasn't their.

Leo was having some fun bantering with Donnie when not chatting with people walking past. The urge to go into Disaster Twins was very tempting, because of how naturally they fell into it.

Though the reminder to call Donnie by a different nickname was a bit hard.

"Just call me Othello, Blue."

"Okay, Tello Tello~"

"O-Thell-O! Get it right you broken neon light!"

Other than that, running the booth solo even for a half hour was a bit tricky, though it was funny hearing people ask Blue what the prices for things were. The most popular things so far were prints, keychains, and plushies.

And according to a small survey done for future merch requests, people wanted to get whatever 'Voice Packs' were. Though the idea of making a mod that would switch out some voice acting with their own wouldn't be a bad idea.

🧡

Mikey was feeling exhausted, but still very happy.

So many people bought so many things from his booth, he had to list a couple of items out of stock for the day. And adding a note to bring the needed restock the next day. Especially loose paper, people really loved the quick sketch thing, and he ran out of paper pretty fast, and had to remove the option from the 'menu board' item lists.

Not to mention some of the pictures he's got (with permission of course) of so many amazing Cosplayers. He also had to make a note of possibility needing to grab another pack of business cards for his alt social. He didn't expect people to want even just the card.

Though it might be the fact he went out of his way to have multiple designs on them, so people were treating them like collectors items on their own... Maybe that should be a gimmick for the next time he does Artist Alley, a 'Golden Ticket' business card... or would that just lead to way more work than he needs.

Mikey took a quick look at his phone, and noticed that there was only an hour until the Halls Closed for the day.

Which thank Pizza Supreme, he was ready to get a quick bite, and sleep!

~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~

Once the closing of the Dealers Hall and Artist Alley were called, and the last people were ushered out. Then came packing up some small things that they didn't want to leave behind, and shutting off and securing the tech in the booth, before leaving themselves.

The booth teams, Raph, and the Dragons met up outside with Leo who went to grab some pizza and sides from a local place with good reviews. Not forgetting to grab the drones, wouldn't want to leave their robot children behind in that chaos.

They had their Dinner outside while going over how they were going to balance the next day, since someone would need to switch out with Mikey for his shift on M & G, because it would be unfair to leave CJ alone for hours.

They also looked into what was going on during the evening, for those who weren't quite tired yet, maybe a panel, movie or Karaoke room?

Either way they split up, with those who wanted to get to bed going back to the hotel, and the rest setting off to wander to event for a couple more hours before heading back to get some sleep.

They all remembered to queue up some posts to go up during the day tomorrow, just standard 'watching the Live of the con from work when I can', a reminder that Dee and Mandarin were doing meet and greets, maybe a 'Did I see some VTurtles Cosplay!?!' with screenshots from the live.

Meanwhile social media from the event itself was being pretty chaotic on it's own, with many people already putting together compilations of what was going on. And extensively reported on by various Social Media Reporters.

Though many have yet to face April in a battle of journalism just yet.

------------------

Masterpost

This ended up a bit short, but then again I kinda restricted myself on how I was going to write this out.

Mainly the 'I have given the characters an obligation, and they can't explore very much' thing.

Well, again I am open for criticism, and let me know what you think.

[ladytauria]

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH “Let me ride you.” for... jaycass :"O

ahhh thank you so much for the prompt <3

so, initially i wasn't sure what to do for this one, but then yesterday, i read a post from @deepwithintheabyss, and, uh. well. later that night i wrote the first 300 words for this <3

it ended up being jaytimcass instead of just jaycass, and uhhh. somehow it spiraled into a little over 4k of... pure smut. featuring: established jaytim with dom tim and sub jay having a threesome with dom cass <3

oh, and a tiny bit of incest, because in one line tim does call cass his sister<3

same day edit: some rephrasing, sentence restructures, and some clarifications added in certain spots. nothing major has changed, though, so if you've read it already you don't need to reread <3

>> AO3 <<

Tim and Cass (and to a lesser extent, Steph) share everything. That’s just a fact. Clothes, safe houses, gear, food, showers, toothbrushes—

—and sexual partners.

Albeit, Jason’s more than that to Tim. Tim loves him, wholeheartedly, which—everything he’s ever seen and read says that should mean he wants to keep Jason all to himself.

And he does. Mostly. With one little exception.

Tim loves him, adores him, and that means… he wants desperately to share him with Cass. Not all the time, or even frequently, but. She’s such a part of him that it feels only natural for her to share in this too, even if it’s only once.

Which is the only reason he brings it up to Jason at all.

Jason’s response is a quick and emphatic no. Tim doesn’t pout or plead—he takes the rejection gracefully, kissing his cheek and reassuring him that no is a complete sentence, and if he’s not comfortable, that’s okay. Tim still loves him, he’s not upset.(Maybe, privately, a bit disappointed, but he knows better than to say that.)

He’s pretty sure that’s the end of it.

Until Jason brings it up again, later. The image, the thought, hasn’t left his mind, and… tentatively, he’s willing to try it. 

Which brings them to now. Here. In Tim’s bedroom, the lights low, the three of them stripped to their underwear. Cass hangs back for now, perched to the side, watching.

Tim straddles Jason’s thighs. It splays his legs wide open, the kind of stretch that might burn a little if he wasn’t as flexible as he is. He’s got both hands buried in Jason’s hair, tipping his head back so he can kiss him hard and deep—fucking his mouth with his tongue.

Jason moans under him, hands resting on Tim’s hips. Spit smears around their mouths, dripping down their chins. It’s wet and messy and good, especially with how lax Jason’s mouth is. If Tim’s own tongue wasn’t in the way, he’s sure Jason’s would be hanging out like a dog.

God.

He’s so good. Part of Tim wants to glance over at Cass, ask with his eyes, Do you see this? Do you see how beautiful he is for me? But he doesn’t, because right now, this is about Jason.

About getting him comfortable and aroused and ready for Cass to join them.

He plunges his tongue as far in Jason’s mouth as it’ll go, straining his frenulum  in the process. It’s worth it for the noise Jason makes; for the flex of Jason hands on his hips. Fuck. Tim loves how strong he is, how easily he could manhandle him if he really wanted to.

How he doesn’t, because he wants Tim to manhandle him instead. (And Tim does, and can, because he may be small, but he’s strong.) He wants to be good. And that—

It’s heady.

He tugs Jason’s hair with one hand, drawing a delicious noise from him. His other hand slips down, gliding over Jason’s neck, shoulder, to grip at his bicep. The muscle is pliant under his hands; squishing easily when he kneads at it. Under the fat and lose muscle, though… Solid as rock. That makes Tim moan, licking into Jason’s mouth one more time before pulling back.

The lack of air is making him dizzy.

Jason, too, he thinks, judging by the way he blinks blearily at Tim, sucking in a deep lungful of air like he’d forgotten he was supposed to be breathing. It’s cute. Cuter still is the high noise Jason makes when Tim attacks his neck with lips and teeth and tongue. He refreshes old, faded markings before moving down, down.

He slides his other hand from Jason’s hair now—down his neck, over his shoulder and down to his collarbone, where it’s joined by the other. He cups Jason’s pecs in his hands. They fit in his palms almost like tits, fat and relaxed muscle plush and soft as he kneads with his fingers.

Jason’s moan is high and sweet.

It gets higher, sweeter, when Tim wraps his mouth around a nipple.

He usually likes to start slow. Soft. But he knows Cass’s mood tonight is neither of those things. Patient as she’s being, there’s an antsiness in her. Tim had offered to reschedule, but…

He’d known by the look in her eye what his sister wanted. He also knew that Jason was more than capable of rising to the occasion, regardless of how Tim chose to prep him. Still. Tim was going to get him used to it now, starting by sucking hard on his nipple… and following that with a scrape of his teeth.

Jason shudders, his skin pebbling with bumps, a sweet little whimper in his voice.

He hears Cass shift. Chances a quick glance over at her, and nearly smiles at what he sees, the way her gaze has gotten more intense. More interested. He can’t blame her. Jason really does make such lovely sounds.

It motivates Tim to draw more from him. He plays with Jason’s nipples until the man is shying under his touch—then, he leaves a ring of bruises around his pecs, loving the way he squirms.

Tim can feel Jason’s hips working. Small, minute shifts, seeking friction. His cock strains at his briefs—tight, black, with a little bit of red lace trim. Tim presses the heel of his palm against it, letting Jason grind on it.

It makes him pant, open mouthed, body trembling with each breath. When Tim takes his hand away, he whimpers again, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. A glossy sheen of tears coats them, starting to gather in the corners.

Adorable.

Tim kisses his nose, and shoves at his shoulders. Jason goes, falling back into the bed willingly. He looks up at Tim with the sweetest expression—needy and wanting and so so adoring. Tim loves him.

Jason lifts his hips obediently when Tim hooks his fingers in the waistband of his briefs. They look so good on him it’s almost a shame to take them off, but. Tim knows for a fact what’s underneath is far prettier. He tugs them down his legs and tosses them toward the hamper.

Tim skims his fingers up the underside of Jason’s cock, watching the way he shudders; bumps pebbling on his skin. The flesh of him is hot under Tim’s fingers—precome saturates the head, drooling down the shaft. Tim swipes his finger through it, and sticks it in his mouth, ignoring the needy whimper Jason makes, instead humming, pleased, at the feeling of salt on his tongue.

“Grip the headboard, Jay— Good boy. Knees up for me, yes, just like that, that’s beautiful.” Tim reaches—Cass hands him the pillow he was looking for, and he thanks her with a brief smile. Jason blinks at her, like he’d forgotten she was here—and then smiles, shyly.

Cass smiles back, ghosting her fingers over the underside of his thigh. Jason shivers, arms twitching. Before Tim can ask, he’s raising his hips, letting Tim slip the pillow under them.

Cass hands him the lube next.

Tim cups Jason’s balls. Lifts them to expose his perineum, and drizzles lube over it, letting it dribble down to Jason’s hole. Jason flinches, keens. The headboard creaks under his grip, his hands twisting around it.

He stays where he was put, though, even as tears trickle down his temples. Cass hums, pressing up against Tim’s back, stroking over Jason’s calf as she hooks her chin over Tim’s shoulder.

Tim rolls his balls in his palm in reward—Jason shudders, head tipping back with a soft moan. Then Tim lets them go so he can slick up two of his fingers. He circles them around Jason’s rim, massaging the muscle. The muscles in Jason’s thighs twitch as they quiver. His belly jumps.

Tim pushes in with his index finger; just to the first knuckle. He keeps rubbing his rim with forefinger, biting back a smile as Jason fights to stay still. His cock drools, dripping onto his abdomen. Cass pets over Tim’s belly, humming as she watches. Her other hand is still tracing patterns over Jason’s calf.

He pushes in to the second knuckle, rubbing at Jason’s walls. Jason is hot around him, his passage silken. He pumps his finger once, twice—then withdraws. Jason whimpers, though it cuts off sharply when Tim plunges back in with both fingers, to the second knuckle. Jason clenches around him, wiggling his hips, a needy, plaintive sound in his throat.

Tim works his fingers, quickly working his fingers in to the third knuckle. Jason’s passage spasms around him, as if he can milk his fingers.

“Needy,” Cass says. 

Tim hums in agreement, and Jason whines, pouting at them both. The pout drops off his face when Tim crooks his fingers, rubbing over his prostate. Jason’s lashes flutter, mouth open in an O, more tears rolling down his face as he whimpers. His hips twitch a little, like he can ride Tim’s fingers.

The angle’s not good enough, though, and he’s forced to simply take what Tim gives him.

When Tim adds a third finger, Jason keens again, bucking, hands straining against the headboard. He can feel Cass’s breathing deepen, feel the way her hand presses down on his belly, the way she presses closer against his back.

“Taking me so well,” Tim croons as he stretches Jason open. He tears his eyes away from Jason’s face to watch his hole, the way it swallows Tim’s fingers. Such a pretty sight. He hums to himself.

Tim keeps teasing him, massaging his prostate, stretching his walls, until Jason is sniffling, crying, sweet, desperate sounds falling from his mouth. Then, Tim takes pity. Cass slicks up the plug Tim had set out, passing it to him when it’s ready. Tim withdraws his fingers. Jason doesn’t even have time to whine before Tim is rubbing the base of the plug against his hole.

It’s a little thicker than even three of Tim’s fingers—he watches Jason’s hole stretch to accommodate it, enjoys the way he strains, arching up off the bed, sweet little cries leaving him.

Tim rocks it until he’s sure it’s nestled right against his prostate. Then he pats Jason’s thigh. “Good boy,” he praises.

Jason sniffles at him, widening his eyes, pleading silently.

Cass laughs sweetly in Tim’s ear.

“Not yet." His cock throbs at the way Jason’s face drops. He holds his hand out automatically, accepting the final toy from Cass—a cock ring.

Jason whimpers at the sight of it, but he doesn’t put up a fuss when Tim works it over him, fixing it to the base of Jason's cock. He kisses the tip, precome smearing on his lips, and pets Jason’s flanks.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says. “You just relax for me. Deep breaths—just like that, very good. Keep your hands on the headboard for me.” He cards his fingers through the hair on Jason’s belly a few times, watching as Jason does what he’s told, eyes fluttering shut.

When some of the tension has eased from his shoulders, Tim moves, sliding up to sit next to Jason’s head, leaning back against the headboard. Cass crawls after him, her movements graceful and languid like a predator. Jason, eyes open again, watches her with wide eyes. She straddles Tim’s thighs and twins her arms around his neck, toying with the short hairs at his nape, making him shiver minutely. Tim cups her hips, stroking his thumbs over the v leading to her groin.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” she echoes, mouth twitching. The light in her eyes is dancing with amusement and anticipation. Tim tips his head back as Cass kisses him; mouths moving in perfect sync, tongues slipping and sliding together wetly, neither of them taking more from the other than they’re given. Push and pull—back and forth. A dance Tim thinks both of them were born knowing the steps to.

The headboard creaks. Jason whines pleadingly.

They ignore him.

Tim’s hands smooth up Cass’s rib cage, counting each bone under her skin before palming her breasts. He knows Cass doesn’t usually wear a bra—that the lacy thing cupping them is for their benefit alone. He plays with her nipples through the fabric, enjoying the way she rolls her hips against him in return.

When she nips his tongue, he goes for the band, unhooking it with practiced ease. Cass shrugs it off, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder.

The headboard creaks again as Jason makes a soft, plaintive sound. Tim smiles into Cass’s mouth before she breaks the kiss. This time, it’s her turn. She pays only a little attention to his chest—pinching his nipples until he squirms. Then she focuses on other things, spaces of his body that Tim had never known were sensitive until she found them. His side, his stomach, even spots on his back. Cass works them all while Tim holds onto her hips and moans.

It drives Jason crazy beside them. Tim can hear him squirming. Hear the sweet, needy sounds he makes. Can picture the way tears fall on his cheeks. It would be so easy for him to look over, to see it for himself, but.

Ignoring him while they put on a show will drive him that much crazier. And Tim loves to drive Jason crazy.

Tim’s turn again. He kisses Cass’s neck, using far less teeth than he had on Jason and leaving no marks. His hands roam her body, mapping out the places that make her squirm, make her breathing hitch, make her even moan. It’s always a treat, getting a sound from Cass. She’s so silent. (Tim likes that too, though: reading her pleasure from breath and expression alone.)

They don’t stop until both of them are leaking through their underwear; damp spots where their arousal pools the thickest.

Tim discards his—Cass does the same above him, both of them tossing them carelessly. He turns to Jason again, finally, finding him watching them. He’s just as Tim pictured; face rosy red, tears glistening in his eyes and on his cheeks, hands twisting around the headboard, grip white-knuckled. A pearly pool of precome glitters on his stomach.

Tim strokes his cheek with his knuckles, stopping to cup his jaw, thumb catching over his full bottom lip. Jason’s lips wrap around the tip, suckling., looking up at Tim with wide, pleading eyes.

Tim smiles at him. “Good boy,” he praises. “Being so patient, keeping your hands where I told you… Do you think you can keep being good for me?”

Jason nods, immediately, curls falling into his eyes.

Tim brushes them back to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Of course you can,” he croons. He takes a condom off the bedside table, sitting up. He works his hand over Jason’s cock, gentle, making sure it’s thoroughly coated in pre before he rolls it on. He can hear the way Jason’s breath hitches in anticipation. “You’re gonna stay nice and still, and let her ride you, aren’t you?”

Jason’s breath hitches, and he nods again; quick, sharp jerks. “Yes. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Tim strokes his face, fingertips skimming over his jaw. He looks over at Cass, nodding, giving her the go ahead.

She’s all languid limbs when she climbs over Jason, settling onto his thighs. Tim lies on his side, ignoring his own erection in favor of propping his head up with one hand, and trailing the other over Jason’s chest, twirling his fingertips through the wiry curls.

Cass wraps her hand around Jason’s cock—looking pale and small against his cock. The contrast makes his fingers itch for a camera. She rubs the tip through her folds, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted.

The headboard jerks under Jason’s grip, knocking against the wall. Tim kisses his jaw. Cass teases Jason for a moment more—Tim can see her eyes glittering under her lashes, the twitch at her mouth that shows just how much she’s enjoying the sounds Jason makes.

And then…

Cass slams down, taking Jason to the root with a single thrust.

He shouts—Tim is half worried the headboard is going to snap under his hands. It doesn’t. Instead, it slams back against the wall again; a loud sound that makes him glad he doesn’t have neighbors. Jason’s chest heaves, his arms shake.

Cass sets a hard, brutal pace. Tim can barely hear her soft grunts under Jason’s cries. She switches back and forth between riding him and grinding on him, rubbing her clit against him. Fat tears roll down Jason’s face; his skin is flushed from head to chest. His tongue lolls out of his mouth—Tim can’t resist plunging two fingers between his lips.

He’s rewarded by Jason sucking; cheeks hollowing, swallowing around them. Tim pets his tongue idly, turning back to watch Cass.

He can tell the moment she comes—clamping tight around Jason’s cock, her movements stilling. Jason lets out a strangled cry, teeth grazing over Tim's skin. Cass's head tips back, chest thrust forward. She still looks so composed; only a slight flush on her skin; the barest sheen of sweat.

She isn't still for long. Bending backwards, reaching for the remote at the foot of the bed. Jason’s brow furrows in confusion at the sight of it—until she presses the button, and the plug in his ass buzzes to life. Jason’s breath hitches. He whines needily around Tim’s fingers. He pumps them, fucking Jason’s mouth properly, watching the way his eyelids droop. He pants, breath hot and humid.

Tim brushes his mouth against Jason’s ear. “Such a good boy, letting her use you like this,” he whispers. “Letting her use that pretty cock of yours to make herself come. A sweet little toy for her.”

Jason moans around his fingers, shivering, looking up at Tim through his lashes. His sucks turn more insistent, and Tim chuckles. “Do you need something more in your mouth, baby?” 

Jason whines, nodding. Tim drags himself back up, moving until Jason’s head and shoulders are pillowed on his legs. He takes his fingers, wiping them on Jason’s cheek. He feeds Jason his cock.

Tim will never tire of Jason’s mouth. His body is a furnace, running a few degrees hotter than everyone else’s. He feels molten and soft around Tim’s flesh, and when he sucks—

Stars dance in Tim’s eyes.

He pets Jason’s face, deepening his breaths to try and keep them even. Jason moans, whines, cries around Tim’s cock—but he never, ever stops sucking and licking, doing his best to bob his head, and staring up at Tim, hazy-eyed and adoring. He soaks up ever stroke of Tim's hand like he's starving for it.

If Tim was even a fraction less horny it would make his heart ache. As it is—he just gets harder, belly tight and hot.

He's nearly undone when Cass comes again—Jason's mouth tightening around him, moaning long and low, the sound vibrating around his cock.

Tim reaches out with his other hand—Cass takes it, tangling their fingers together. She’s showing signs of exertion now, sweat glittering and glistening on her skin. As beautiful now as she is on stage, arms raised in a perfect pirouette.

She squeezes Tim’s hand.

Tim squeezes back. He taps Jason’s cheek with the other, getting his attention. “You’re going to make Cass come one more time, baby,” he says. “And then you get a reward, alright?”

Jason hums, blinking slowly up at him in acknowledgement. His lashes are clumped with tears, eyes rimmed with red. Tim strokes a finger down the line of his nose, over his bulging cheek.

Cass’s pace is slower this time—her hips rolling. Her breaths quicken, quiet moans tumbling from her mouth. The movements of Jason’s mouth grow clumsier; too focused on Cass. Tim doesn’t mind. He is too.

When Cass’s stomach starts to tighten, the muscles flexing, showing off her abs, Tim lets go of her hand, rising up a little to pull her into a kiss over Jason’s head. He hears, feels, Jason groans—the vibrations make him moan. A particularly hard thrust has Cass tensing, then coming with a sigh, melting against Tim’s mouth.

She pats his cheek when she pulls away, smiling at him, eyes hazy and face pink, looking far more relaxed than when they started. Tim smiles to see it. She slips off of Jason, resting on his other side, curling her legs under her. 

Tim eases his cock from Jason’s mouth—when he whimpers, Cass replaces it with her fingers. Jason’s eyes blow wide in surprise, and then he sucks eagerly. Cass smiles down at him.

Tim settles between his legs, cupping his balls lifting them as if he's testing the weight of them before making a low, sympathetic noise. "Aw, poor baby. You're so full. I bet it hurts, doesn't it?"

Jason whines around Cass’s fingers. Tim is sure he would be begging to come if he could speak—especially when Tim rolls them in his palm, rubbing them with his fingertips. Jason thrashes his head, his hips moving in short, aborted jerks as he tries to stay still, like Tim asked.

“What do you think, Cass?” Tim asks, contemplatively. “Has he earned it?”

Cass hums, her mouth quirking on one side. “Hasn’t made you come yet,” she points out, to Jason’s distress. Idly, she starts circling one of his nipples with her free hand. Tim watches his chest jerk, both up and away.

Tim lets his eyes widen, pretending surprise. “You’re right. He hasn’t. That’s not really fair, is it Jay?” he asks, and Jason whines, pouting around Cass’s fingers. He’s so cute, with his curls falling into those big, pleading eyes, glassy with lust and tears.

Ignoring him, Tim hums contemplatively. “Although... I did promise him a reward for making you come again." He pets Jason's thigh, cocking his head like he's thinking. “Hm… I suppose for your reward, darling, I’ll take this off for you.” Tim eases the cock ring from him, and lets it fall on the bed beside them. “But if you want to come…” He grabs the base of the plug, Cass turning it off as pulls it out. “You’re going to have to do it on my cock. Think you can do that?”

Jason nods, frantically. His cheeks have hollowed, and Tim knows he’s got to be sucking Cass’s fingers like a champ. He can see her moving slightly, probably petting his tongue.

Tim lets the plug drop on the bed with the cock ring. He grabs the lube again. Hisses at the cold liquid on his heated flesh before he strokes himself, smearing it everywhere. He doesn’t bother with a condom; just lines himself up with Jason’s hole, lifting up one of Jason’s legs and pushing it toward his chest. 

With one snap of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt.

Jason sobs. His cock and balls twitch, a spurt of precome splattering on his skin. He tightens beautifully around Tim, making him snarl at the tight, wet heat of him.

Cass hums, watching with dark eyes. She presses her mouth against Jason’s temple and whispers, just loud enough for Tim to hear, “Beautiful.”

The praise makes Jason shake, sobbing again. Cass brushes hair from his forehead, looking from him to Tim, clear approval in her eyes. Keep him, she tells him silently, without so much as moving her lips.

I intend to, Tim says back, snapping his hips again. Jason keens.

Cass keeps petting Jason, touch firm and soothing, letting him suck on her fingers as Tim fucks him. He uses the same pace as Cass, right at the very start. Hard and punishing, slowing occasionally to roll his hips, angling for Jason’s prostate.

It doesn’t take very long at all for Jason to come. Especially not when Cass starts teasing his tit again—scraping a nail over his tight, puckered nipple.

Tim has to hold his hips and Cass his shoulders to keep him from arching completely off the bed, mouth hanging open in a silent shout. He paints his own chest with come—Tim helps him, massaging his balls and perineum while fucking him shallowly.

When Jason collapses, he looks half passed out. 

Tim pets his flanks, giving both of them a moment to catch their breaths and then... he keeps going, chasing his own bliss in the tight heat of Jason's body.

Cass drags three fingers through Jason’s come—examines them curiously, tilting them in the light. Then, she slips her fingers from Jason's mouth, holding up the ones covered in his come instead. Jason swallows them down without hesitation, moaning when he tastes himself on her fingers, and that—

That’s when Tim spills, deep inside him. He feels Jason shudder, hears his quiet moan, feels the way he clenches around him. He clenches tighter when Tim pulls out, as if he can hold him inside, but Tim ignores him. A line of come follows his cock; Tim scoops it up with his fingers, stuffs it back inside, using them to keep him plugged while he snags the plug. He uses his come to slick the plug before working back inside him. As soon as it's settled, Jason sighs sweetly, relaxing back against the mattress, suckling contentedly on Cass's fingers.

Tim crawls up to the headboard, settling down on Jason's other side. He strokes Jason's cheek. "You can let go of the headboard now, sweetheart," he whispers. Jason blinks up at him. It takes him a second to comply, and when he does, it's slow, finger-by-finger before he lowers his arms. Cass slips her fingers from his mouth, then; she and Tim each taking one of his arms, massaging them. Jason hums, low and rumbly like a purr.

Tim raises Jason's hand to his mouth, turning it to kiss his palm before threading their fingers together. "Very well done, sweetheart. You were so good for us, thank you."

Jason shivers, blinking sleepily at him, a little smile on his mouth.

Cass sweeps Jason's bangs from his face again so she can kiss his forehead. "Good boy," she tells him when she comes back up. Jason blinks at her, wide-eyed with surprise. Then he flushes, smiling shyly at her. She smiles back, sweetly, patting his cheek before leaning over him.

Tim meets her halfway, sighing into her slow, languid kiss.

They say sharing is caring, and right now, Tim couldn’t agree more.

[yourneighborhoodneighbor]

super cool ghost ice mega slide

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

fic under the cut

Having another superpowered person as part of Batclan was great, even if he wasn't technically a meta (I'm dead, Duke, that's more of a medical condition-). Having a portable snow maker year round was even better.

Duke had taken to Danny pretty quickly after the younger teen had been picked up off the street, hurt and borderline delirious, surprisingly not by Bruce, but by Jason. Once he had been cognizant enough to realize in which city he was, and in whose cave, he had had a pretty major freak out, believing himself in danger through a mix of the idea that Batman hated metas and whatever had hurt him so badly in the first place.

After Duke had managed to get out of his stupor at seeing whatever it was the kid had become (and seriously, he had seen some pretty unusual things because of his meta abilities, but a 4k HD 1080p 4D experience of a real life eldritch being was not one of them) he had promptly kicked everyone out of the room in the med area (except for Alfred, whom he very politely asked vacate the room) to try and calm the kid down.

After revealing his own meta status, assuring the glowing kid that Batman didn't actually hate metas, he just wanted to protect his city from mind-controlled superpowered people, and that he was safe from whoever had hurt him, the kid had finally calmed down enough to return to a more human-like appearance. 

From then it was really no surprise to anyone that the new kid (who could transform into an actual human, and really? Black hair and blue eyes again?) got promptly adopted and revealed information that got an entire branch of the government taken down by the blazing wings of fury of the entire Batclan (even Damian had quickly become attached to the newest kid once his katana was gushed about with the accuracy and fervor of someone who knows how to wield the weapon). 

What had been unexpected was the kid having a connection to the Lazarus Pits (which were apparently something called ectoplasm) and being able to help Jason get rid of what turned out to be a huge amount of toxic gunk from himself, leaving him with only the good gunk (Duke tried not to think too much about it), which made the too dead-but-not-really boys bond quickly.

On top of all that the kid was also an engineering and astronomy nerd (as well as had a knack for math and physics), which appealed him to Tim greatly, and he made puns like would die (again) if he didn't, which appealed him to Dick, and, he preferred communicating with means other than spoken words (usually inhuman sounds and growls), which he bonded over with Cass, and he was actually good a baking, which appealed him to Alfred, and he was also already a vigilante, which appealed him to everyone else-

The point being, everyone loved Danny, including Duke himself, so it was a bit hard to get some to spend with him by himself, which was why Duke was going to make the most of this day.

He wasn't actually alone with the young half-ghost, Cass was also left at home while all the others went about some business or another out of the manor, but Duke knew hanging out with both Danny and Cass was often double the fun since underneath the chill facades both of them were actually feral little shits, so that wasn't an issue.

That brought him back to his first point: having a brother who could make no-melt snow on command was the best!

So now here they were, the three of them standing side by side on top of the tallest point of the manor, facing a slope so steep it was almost 90º degrees at first and then bent and curved all over the yard in ways Duke just knew wouldn't pass a safety inspection, those tiny cheap plastic sleds in hand (“for the full experience,” Danny said, even though they certainly had the money to buy other sleds). Duke was regretting some of his choices, looking down, but now he was committed, no way was he quitting, Danny and Cass would tag team on teasing him for the rest of time.

“Ready?” Danny asked, a too wide smile on his face and eyes open with the kind of crazed excitement only someone who was already dead could have.

Cass answered by putting her sled on the ground and sitting on it, position ready and her face mirroring Danny's. 

Duke stood corrected, only people who were already dead, and Cass.

He really was going to regret this, wasn't he. Well, too late to back out now. This is what he got for hanging out with the two most unhinged people in the family, he supposed (and that was saying something, considering the kind of family Duke had).

“Sure, yeah, what's a little sled race down a death slope of doom?” the meta answered with more confidence than he felt. He was the Signal! He could do this! Besides, Cass and Danny wouldn't actually let him break his neck and die, right? Right.

Cass patted his shoulder sympathetically (as if-) as he sat down. Here went nothing.

“Remember, whoever makes it down in the least amount of time wins an ice cream! And no powers! You're up first, Duke!” Danny exclaimed as he pushed Duke forward.

Duke had barely any time to process the fact that he was already in a semi-free fall before he was already approaching the tunnels that made up the bottom half of the “super cool ghost ice mega slide” (patent pending). He remembered he did, in fact, need to breath, filling his lungs to the top and letting the air out in a scream.

The meta boy could do nothing but keep screaming as he reached speeds he was pretty sure went against the laws of physics, making loop-de-loops and turns so steep he thought he was going to slam against the side instead of turning a few times.

After what felt like an eternity but also too little time to have actually completed the Slide of Doom (more accurate name, in Dukes opinion), he finally made it to the end, promptly getting bowled over by a gleeful Cass and cackling Danny, who he hadn't even noticed were right behind him.

“Mmfffhblggggheroff-” Duke grunted, turning over and subsequently throwing off the other two into the surrounding snow. Danny accepted his fate, while Cass sat up and grinned at him.

“And?! Wasn't that fun?!” Cass signed excitedly. Duke was about to say it was terrifying, but cut himself short when he noticed he was smiling.

Huh. That actually had been fun. It had been really, really fun.

“We should do that again,” he breathed out. “We should do that again, but all together! More weight means more speed! We can see how far off the finish we end up!”

He was excited now, he was PUMPED! He grabbed Danny around the waist, carrying him like a sack of potatoes and and running up the ice steps (sibling with ice powers for the win-) back to the roof, Cass behind him with the sleds.

He ignored the ghost boy's protests about being able to walk (“and fly!”), eager to enact his new plan.

Once up there, he dumped his brother and accepted a sled from his sister, sitting down on it.

“Cass, sit on my lap! Danny goes on top because he's a lightweight!” he told the others, receiving a token protest from Danny, who got further teased about his half weight by Cass.

Once they were all settled, Duke got really to start them off by pushing with his legs when Danny yelled out.

“Wait!”

Cass and Duke looked up at him with questioning glances. In response, the boy got up, touched the slide and… Oh-hoho, this was gonna be good.

“There, it's extra smooth and slippery now. We're in for some Cool Running!” Danny said, settling back on top of the pile, grin matching his two siblings'.

“Alright, let's break some legs” Duke muttered, pushing forward with his feet.

And damn-

If Duke thought he was going fast before, they were racing the Flashes now!

All three siblings let out manic laughter, whopping and screaming as they held on to each other for dear life, the forces of the turns threatening to pull them apart.

As they neared the finish, Duke saw a shadow, barely having time to process before he was blinded by the flash of a camera.

They kept going a bit after the finish, the speed they came with not letting them stop, eventually colliding with a pile of snow and finally flying in different directions.

Duke couldn't stop laughing where he had landed, full of adrenaline and absolute mirth. A little ways away, he could hear both his siblings in the same predicament.

After a managing to get himself under control and trying to get his breathing back to normal, he sat up, freezing when he saw the amused audience they suddenly had.

“Umm, guys?” he called out to the other two.

“What?” Danny asked, sitting up as well and freezing as he saw what Duke had seen.

Cass was the last to rise, looking at their audience with as innocent a face as she could manage while clearly a culprit to their exploits.

Bruce simply raised an amused eyebrow, Alfred at his side looking perfectly regal while innocently holding a camera in his hands.

“I see you were having fun on your day off,” he stated, lips threatening to curl into a grin.

The three sibling looked at each other, before Cass reached over and simply offered one of the tiny plastic sleds to the man.

All of them were locked in a staring contest for the next few seconds, before Bruce's face finally broke into a grin and he grabbed the sled.

“Thought you wouldn't ask!��� he said, turning and running up the steps, yelling back at them for being slow pokes.

The siblings all grinned at each other before running after the man.

Yeah, having access to unlimited snow was great, but getting to spend time with his family in it? Even better. bonus unrelated snow LBM drawing