#insane things Cass can do

[dailycass-cain]

As promised many months ago to end this day, here's a 🧵of the insanity Cassandra Cain's "human" body can do due to what David Cain put her through (besides the two obvious ones of body language and various forms of killing he trained her in).

The best issue that showcases that is of course Batgirl Vol. 1 #14 where various government agencies look at the footage Cass got caught filmed in.

The first few pages are literally showcasing how inhuman, but still bordering on human she is due to what David Cain put her through.

This is always fully covered throughout Batgirl Volume 1 and is usually forgotten when writers and editors tend to have their job. Not saying any names or storylines of any RECENT kind where a WAR broke out in GOTHAM.

is still salty YES

We've seen Cass's speed all the time throughout the Puckett run. To just showcase the prior issue's bullet dodging or her issue of Tim (#18) be child's play (along with her taking several shots up close and dodging each one from a certain corrupt government bastard).

Nah the best example of Cass's true "speed" is in #34 facing the mob boss Ving and his gang.

Yeah, you're seeing that right she is faster than a freaking bullet. Surprising how SOME seem to forget that in other comics. 🙄

Something even Batgirls remembered (#15) when Cass was playing shogun dodge with Cluemaster who was trying to shoot her with a shotgun.

But what of Cassandra's strength? Just how strong is she really?

#19 where Cass is faced with the obstacle of three-inch quartz preventing her from escaping a gas chamber. So let's examine just how thick three-inch quartz is.

Well, let's google just that.

A SEVEN on the hardness scale. Further research says that it can only crack due to "extreme impacts" which wouldn't ya know:

As for her body itself, Batgirl/Ghost: The Ressurection Machine #3 suggests this about Cass being immune to A LOT of poisons:

Something Batgirl Vol. 1 "sort of" delves in #50 when both she and Bruce are doused with a new batch of super drug but it turns out they were both immune to it due to them being built differently than normal humans.

This is all the more surprising because a few issues prior to (#46) Cass is doused with a version of it, but you could say given what she "sees" Cass is under A LOT of stress (the building tension with Bruce, Babs breaking up with Dick, Superboy/Black Wind stuff). Plus she does "sort of" snap out of it to beat the bad guys in that issue.

Just like in #51 she avoids the pheromones to Poison Ivy even though she is showing signs of falling under the hormones but snaps out of it due to willpower (something Bruce was almost succumbing to before he fully snapped out of it too).

It really feels like "this anti-poison" ability Cass had was all but forgotten once the series ended. Of course, naturally with a certain "infamous" story ONE YEAR LATER, but also Batman & Robin Eternal as she is affected by Fear Toxin (among other stuff too).

#9 & #59 showcase that David Cain shot Cass regularly so much that she can not even feel it. This could explain also HOW she was eventually able to dodge bullets and become so fast.

#22 also showcases this as well so this is not something simply just randomly put in. This was something the writers wanted to show the sickening lengths David Cain put Cass through.

Again, #14 brought up Cass's metabolism and how off the charts it was. I think something we just overlooked is that in #26 Cass slept for 20 hours a day for four days (or perhaps longer) straight until she fully recovered from fighting Lady Shiva.

That's not even going under the amount of food she consumes. This little detail was first showcased in #39 when Cass ate like she was freaking Goku.

This little bit of detail was brought back in #66 when she ordered THREE burgers (I'm assuming with everything on it) with three sides of fries and a BIG milk.

Amusingly, this detail was recently brought back in Nightwing #106 & #108 where she FEASTED on who knows how many pancakes.

Lastly, I feel this bit is worth mentioning as well from #47 with Doctor Lewis Friedman who started the theory on body language that David Cain made a frightening reality with Cass (shame he was never brought up again after this issue).

All this isn't even counting on the extremely LONG hours of shower time Cass picked up in the Gabrych run that even Willingham's Robin (which went on during this) teased (something again Batgirls kept up on).

So there you have it. The utter anomaly that is the body of one Cassandra Cain.

#cassandra cain #dc comics #insane things Cass can do #cass built differently

[secretlythatsme]

i really love dc x dp tbh but i hate how so many fics end up making the batfam dumb as shit. and i don't mean in a "loveable goof" kind of way but in a genuine "these people don't have the skills or intelligence to be heroes" kind of way. which is just antithetical to their entire thing

sometimes it's because the writer just genuinely doesn't know anything about the batfam or what they've been through so they come across as idiots. and other times it's because the writer is writing op ghost king danny or just generally op danny and they genuinely think he could outsmart or beat them. more often than not, it's a combination of the two.

it's just so sad. like not only is it disrespectul to the batfam, essentially getting rid of all the skills and experience they have just to prop up danny, but it also makes things a lot more boring imo. don't get me wrong, i don't mind the occasional "main character is super op" kind of story, but it's boring when like 70% of fics are like that and there's no real challenge or obstacle for him. part of why the show danny phantom was so fun was that it was exciting and chair gripping to see danny have to deal with his new ghost powers, figuring out how to deal with ghost attacks or vlad, and dealing with school and his parents on top of that.

but often, dc x dp fics just,, get rid of any challenge for him. sure batman is a skilled detective but danny will always be able to trick him! sure cass has been trained since birth to read people's body language but this random ghost teen knows how to conceal and control everything!! yeah damian has also been trained since birth to fight and kill but this random guy from the midwest who just started fighting in his teens is so much better!!! like, alright. it's fun every now and then but it sucks when so much of the dc x dp content is just people acting like the batfam are the worst vigilantes/detectives in the world.

and honestly i still feel this way even with the ghost king danny fics because how? he's never had to deal with people obsessively reading his body language or reading between the lines. he's had to deal with hiding stuff sure but his parents aren't the most observant people - their whole deal was being neglectful. even as a ghost king, why would he know how to outsmart, take advantage of, or beat the batfam in any capacity when he would still mostly deal with ghosts. it's a completely different skill set here - one that he likely wouldn't be prepared for. it'd be fine if they at least attempted to explain why danny would have those skills (like league danny aus) but most of them don't.

and i'm not saying danny couldn't do it at all, especially if it's a ghost king au, but i'm just tired of seeing the batfam constantly downplayed in these fics Just to make danny look better, smarter, stronger, etc. ik most people in the fandom are just danny fans but it really shows with how they treat, characterize, and shit on the dc characters just to prop danny up. it also serves to occasionally make danny look like an asshole when he intentionally messes with them and basically commits psychological torture for a goof.

#man... #i Do like this crossover but i completely understand why so many dc fans hate it #the oocness the fanon the constantly making these skilled trained characters fumble around and get outsmarted by Some Guy #ghost king danny isn't even canon to dp! which isnt a bad thing by any means ik the dp fandom goes crazy for fanon #and generally speaking the fanon Is a lot more fun and engaging than dp's canon #but as a dc fan its insane to watch #i want to engage more with dc x dp content so badly like this crossover is really interesting to me #but so much of it is just 'the bat.fam are actually fucking useless and my blorbo is so much better :)))' #it's almost like they dont even like the bat.fam!!! they keep saying they just dont know/understand them #but it fully feels like they straight up dont like the dc characters #it definitely comes across as 'hey this is a fun world to put danny in lets do that while also shitting on it and all of the characters' #'lol bruce is so stupid this random teen can outsmart him and he can lie to cass and he can beat dick in a physical fight lol' #there's a point where it stops feeling like indulgent op blorbo and more like insulting anyone who isn't danny #<thats actually exactly what it is and its insane to me like why even like crossovers if you dont want to engage with anyone but danny #how can you say you like them when you outright refuse to know them or respect them? #and obviously im using 'you' in a vague way im not specifically calling anyone out #ik there are people in the fandom who are genuinely fans of both and Do know and respect the dc characters #but so far its very few and far between which is just such a fandom culture shock for me #like in most fandoms im able to read a lot of fics and only occasionally think 'thats not right' #but with this one its the other way around - im constantly going 'they wouldnt say/do that at all why does the op think that?' #like 9 out of 10 fics im like 'oh yeah this person has never read a comic in their life' #i can immediately tell when someone has only read the webtoon its extremely obvious unfortunately #maybe i should make a dc masterlist for dp fans... like here you can write about them again After you do your homework ajdhgl

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

I didn't even come close to finishing this fic in time for Halloween, even though I've been working on it literally since I posted the first entry in the tim&steph role swap au, but it turns out detective stories take way more effort to write than dumb, cheesy character interactions. who knew! (I did. I just also watched 32 horror movies this month.) anyway, I wanted to share something spooky for the holiday regardless, so here's a peek at what's to come...

"I'm not crazy," Melanie Diaz said, tightly. Her long, wavy dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, slightly stringy with oil and sweat, and her jaw was clenched tight. She picked at her long sleeve tshirt, where it was pilling near the bend of her elbow.

"I know."

She snorted, rolling her eyes, and took a step away from him as she waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, it's that simple. I tell you I'm seeing ghosts, and you just--"

"Hey," Tim interjected calmly, holding up a placating hand. "Look, first, there are lots of things that can cause hallucinations. Mold, gas leaks, fear gas. This is Gotham, after all."

"I told you, I'm not--"

"That would not make you crazy," Tim told her firmly. "It would mean that there was a physical substance in your apartment causing a measurable chemical reaction in your brain. Hell," he snorted, "even if you are just hallucinating because you're hallucinating, there's still a chemical reaction happening in your brain. What's happening to you is very real, in one way or another. Alright?" He gestured her over to the couch, crouching down next to her as she sat and offering her his hand. After a short, distrustful moment, she took it, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

"But I actually had both a second and a third point that you never let me get to," Tim added gently. "Second is that there is plenty of technology that could be utilized to make you think you were hallucinating. Speakers, projectors, stuff along those lines. And, third, and perhaps most importantly, we live in a world where Wonder Woman exists, and a stage magician who is actually magic is one of the most powerful members of the Justice League." He settled his other hand over hers and offered a gentle squeeze. "Those kinds of things don't bleed over to boring, normal people like us all that often, but it still wouldn't be completely unheard of if you were actually being haunted."

"Oh, god." Melanie groaned, setting her other hand over top of Tim's and bending over to press her forehead to it.

"Whatever is happening, we are going to figure it out together," Tim promised her. Something wet slipped between her fingers as her chest heaved silently.

#the tim&steph role swap au #tim drake #I've basically only written the introduction to this story because I had an epiphany for how I could use cass as more than a bit part #and suddenly there was an extra plot twist which means it's going to be way longer than I expected #but it's been fun. I started it because I wanted to actually explore the private investigator thing #because it's the one really MAJOR departure between this au and canon #and also I love a good detective story. sue me. #I'm so bad at plots though I guarantee this will be a let down if you look at it too closely but whatever. it's my universe. #I can do what I want. #anyway yes all along I've been saying in the author's notes that I don't want to write case fic but actually all along. #I have been writing case fic. #I'm a lying liar who lies #anyway tim's role in this au is really interesting #because he's not a cop AND he's not a vigilante #and that leaves him a lot more open to smaller more personal cases #it pulls him away from like the rogues and mafia bosses and stuff (except for the general reconnaissance he does just for himself #because TRT!tim is a little bit insane and has no idea) #yet also puts him much more openly and actively on the streets #he has an office. his phone number is listed. he does not have a mask to hide behind. I am fascinated by TRT!tim #and this particular fic is proving an outlet for it #also I lay out some timeline stuff while discussing tim and cass's relationship in this au #and damn these kids had a bad couple years huh #I haven't decided the exact impetus for war games or who killed jack drake in this au #but those things still happened #I do think tim and steph end up a little more stable overall than they did in canon #because a lot of the trauma from that specific time period was heaped solely on tim and here it's split #but bruce's death def has a bigger impact on steph in this universe (plus kon and bart) so she definitely still has a bad time of it #except she stays in gotham rebuilding with dick and damian rather than doing the red robin thing #and cass is the one rescuing bruce from the timestream #(again I haven't decided everything that changes between tim's canon experience and cass's

[cannedinternets]

Yanno, a thing i see a LOT in fics is that the Batfam think Danny is a meta, b/c ghosts don't exist. Which is valid, i mean they ARE a team of detectives with a shitton of wacky themed rogues and, at least on batman's part, a noted distaste for and disbelief in magic and the supernatural.

But bruce and tim have both worked with ghosts directly. (Maybe the others too? fuck there's a LOT of comics and animated series and-) So i think it would be much funnier if they think he's not a ghost, b/c Ghosts Don't Work That Way.

In fact, b/c Communication Is Not The Batman's Strong Suit, I think it's funny if all of them are wrong but for different reasons.

Bruce - has worked with Deadman. You can't see or interact with ghosts without magical outside intervention. Thinks Danny is a magic user who transforms a la Shazam/Captain Marvel.

Dick - Clown trauma? Mind control Trauma? One of your rogues tried to brainwash you to be his son/weapon? Damn kid you're like me if i had it even worse. Thinks Danny is a "regular" kid vigilante with a schtick.

Babs - Well the video evidence she can find deffo lines up with him being a super, but there's a hardcore blackout around his town, he doesn't legally exist, AND any outside info she runs into is usually cutoff by someone (tucker or technus depending), AND he's mentioned cloning. So he's probably a designer "cloned" (ugh dc that's not how cloning works) meta kid that's being taken advantage of by the government and/or cadmus.

Cass - Thinks Danny is a terrible liar (true) who is counting on the refuge in audacity to keep people from realizing what he is (also true). Thinks he's someone who got themed meta powers in a lab accident and is playing up the ghost thing b/c he fights ghosts constantly.

Jason - Glowing green eyes? Ability to manifest green constructs that look like they're made of goo? Constant death jokes? Aww, this dude is just another me but he is also a meta/somehow got anime girl powers out of getting dunked in the lazarus pits.

Tim - worked with Secret. Ghosts can fly, shapeshift, go intangible, teleport, posses people. Thinks phantom is an actual ghost that is possessing/overshadowing Danny, possibly consensually? He's looking into it. Ironically, is the closest to the truth.

Steph - Hasn't seen Danny do anything that the other bats can't do, and HAS seen him work on an engineering project for 16 hours straight. Thinks Danny is something like the bats, either under-powered or completely non-powered and makes up for it with tech and mystique. Also thinks Danny is a great ally in gremlinship.

Duke - his Ghost Sight does NOT play well with ghosts, ironically. Thinks Danny is some sort of eldritch horror with a human guise. He seems cool tho, Duke isn't gonna judge someone based on looks even if they do give him migraines.

Damian - thinks that Danny is a Pit Demon and you are all insane.

Jarro - thinks Danny is a Green Martian. Also thinks Danny is awesome.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batfam

[moider-time]

Y'know what I want? I want sick Bruce Wayne.

I want a Bruce that babies his kids when they're sick. He goes all out. 6'4 muscle-bound Jason Todd is getting tucked into bed with a kiss on the forehead to check his temperature and whines if Bruce forgets.

As good as his memory is, Bruce can't exactly remember what Thomas and Martha used to do when he was sick. They had a routine but the intricacies of it constantly escape him. As little as that may be, it does pang every now and again that he's forgetting them, forgetting how they loved him. He doesn't want that for any of his kids.

So he babies them, treats them like the little kids he knows they aren't and rarely if ever got to be. He deals with any vomit, tears or just general irritation that comes with being sick. It gets to point where when the kids are sick and Bruce isn't home, they can barely function.

Dick: THIS IS IT- THIS IS THE END

Wally: dude you just have a cold?

Dick: JUST A- JUST A COLD?!? WALLY, ARE YOU INSANE?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MANAGE WITHOUT MY HOT CHOCOLATE AND HOME MADE BUNNY MARSHMALLOWS??!?

Wally: ok one, bunny marshmallows? adorable. and two, i've seen you walk off a fractured collarbone, two bruised ribs and a twisted ankle???

Dick: ....yeah but the marshmallows

Wally:

But Bruce? Oh when Bruce is sick, he powers through. But when he's so sick he considers himself a liability, he curls up in a small, dark room like a pregnant cat. It's practically instinct for him – when he's compromised like that, he needs to be in a place that he's knows is safe.

Very Sick Bruce also goes into Mama Bear Mode. He wants his kids in his sight at all times or he's practically inconsolable. If they're not with him, then they might be in danger, anything could happen – how can he protect them if they're not there? Just anxiety out of the wazoo.

I can see him trying to drag his 7 kids into one room so he can keep an eye on his babies.

Damian: baba we cannot all possibly fit-

Cass: -we will

Damian:

Damian: who's going first?

The kids do make things more comfortable. Fluffing his pillows, getting him tea and making sure he has his stuffies. Bruce appreciates it but he just says that all he needs are his kids. That always has them sobbing.

(happy holidays to my cold twin @bruciemilf i was inspired by our mutual sickness lol)

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #batfamily #batkids #tw vomit #i can just imagine bby bruce with his big brown eyes feeling feverish and crying for his parents #alfred lying and saying they just went out and they'll be back soon bc he doesn't have the heart to remind him of their death #also idk if this is coherent at all but my sickness filled mind could only articulate my hc so well lol

[sluggishslugcrimes]

Jason, in therapy: Dick is the golden child, I could never come close to his level of perfection nor be a good son my second time around... Not that I hate him for it, kinda hard now since he's there to support me, made me come to therapy.

Damian, asked who's the good child: well it's Richard of course, he's what I inspired to be.

Tim, talking about the greatest Robin: he started and set what every Robin should be, it's insane how he adapted to this lifestyle!

Cass, asked who's her favorite sibling: I don't have a favorite but Dick is one I can count on for anything, he's a good brother.

Steph: oh I know goodie two shoes won't do anything that would be anywhere near stealing, come on Wally, stop lying.

Duke: I don't think Dick can do anything wrong, I might be signal but he's the light of Gotham so I can't believe he's done anything wrong, I mean he ran away but that was mostly Bec Bruce hurt his feelings. No, I think the only thing he ever did anything wrong in his life was maybe stepping on an ant, he's a good guy and an amazing big brother, dramatic as hell but still a good guy.

Dick's good child times

Bruce, at his last straw: the Geneva Convention was not a checklist for your war crimes! You're 8yo, you shouldn't be a wanted man by the government!

Dick, sassy pants: correction, one I'm a wanted child, okay. Two, I didn't use it as a checklist, I added onto that list. I improve that list.

Bruce: your a wanted criminal, you set a man on fire!

Dick: whatever geezer, can you leave now I'm doing my homework or now it's an issue for you

Bruce: it is now, you are grounded, no, your beyond grounded your... Your forever grounded!

Dick: wow, you went to a the best college out there and the best you come up with is "forever grounded", why I'm even studying at this point if you're supposed to be smarter than anyone in the world.

Bruce: you're a nightmare.

Dick: and you're losing to an 8yo, now tell the government to shove it where the sun doesn't shine and leave me alone.

Bruce: I'll... I'll forbid you to see your friends then, ha whatcha going to do about that one.

Dick: leave to see them like always, just like I do to do my "crimes". This game getting boring, take the lost.

Bruce: this isn't over young man!

Dick: uh huh, yeah.

#dick grayson #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cass cain #cassandra cain #duke thomas #i love that Bec be mellow out siblings thinks he's a innocent man #when in fact he's a war criminal the government couldn't find #his file there siblings read it and only Dick and Bruce know that's his file

[dcxdpdabbles]

If possible could you do the Batkids summoning the Ghost King on a dare?

It starts with Tim because most insane things do. Kon had sent him a link to a trend, asking him to try it the next time Young Justice got together.

He made the mistake of clicking on the link while sitting near his siblings in the gaming room. The audio is also on full blast because he didn't realize his headphones were out of battery.

Thus while waiting for his turn to play Mario Kart, a loud male moan echoes from his speakers. Tim freezes in his seat, staring at his phone in horrified betrayal, as seven heads snap in his direction.

"Ugh, Timmy? Those are videos you should be watching alone" Dick says with half a teasing smirk. "I know you're growing up and are curious about-"

"It's not like that! It's a summoning circle!" Tim yelps, turning the phone around. On his screen, five male teenagers sit in a circle, each holding hands. Moaning. The caption reads, "Summoning the Ghost King! What's your offer?".

"What the hell?" Jason squints as the teenagers in the video burst into laughter. They jeer and taunt each other good naturally, indicating the random moaning was in jest.

"Oh, I know that trend!" Cullen chirps from the floor. He's been hugging the bowl of chips all night, laying down on his stomach to keep it guarded from the others. "Basically, you try to summon the Ghost King by offering something random. Guess he doesn't respond to human sacrifices or the typical stuff, so people have been getting creative. I once saw a group of girls who burned their training bras and offered the King the ashes. The point is to pick the weirdest thing you can think of."

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We have to try it." Steph announces, standing up. She pushes the coffee table out of the way. The rest of their siblings, who weren't as into the speeding game, perked up in interest. "What do we need?"

"Um," Tim scrolls through the comments. "We need four never before lite candles, each placed in the positions of the four directions. We have to sit crossed leg in a circle holding hands and call out to the King with a poem, and at the end, we make our offering."

Harper springs up. "I got some candles! Do they matter if it's scented?"

Tim checks online. "It's not recommended, but it's fine if they are."

"This is idiotic! Attempting to make contact with the Ghost King is far too dangerous. I shall take no part in this foolery!" Damian cuts in, face twisted into a- surprisingly- nervous frown. His hands are clasped tightly over each other while his eyes roam the room looking for unseen threats. If Tim didn't know any better, he said the brat was scared.

"Aw Dami, if you don't want to do a summons, we can play the game of life or something. It's okay to be scared of ghosts" Dick says, placing his hand on the kid's shoulder. He was obviously trying to comfort the kid but it has the opposite effect.

"I am not scared of a mere ghost!" Damian hisses. "I am merely stating we should not bother forces well out of our leagues!"

Jason snorts, planting himself on the ground as Harper returns. She had four different color candles, purple, blue, black, and green. After consulting with Cass- a human compass-she placed them facing the east, west, south, and north.

"Why did you make that disgusting noise Todd?" Damian demands narrowing his eyes at the striking man.

"Just admit you're scared of ghosts, brat. No one is going to judge you for it."

"I said I was not scared of a mere ghost. The Ghost King is far more powerful then-"

"Alright, alright. Damian is too much of a scary cat to play, but who else is in?" Steph cuts him off, a knowing glint in her eyes. The youngest flushes angrily before he marches between the green and black candle and sits with his legs crossed. A nasty scowl is playing on his lips, likely not noticing the high-five Jason and Steph share for getting him to join.

Cass gracefully falls right next to Damian, offering the younger boy a small. His scowl lessens just a little. Cullen crawls his way over, pressing the bowl of chips to his hip protectively once he's sitting up. He ended up between the green and the purple candle, offering Cass a smile. Harper lands next to Cullen, cracking her neck as if preparing for a fight.

Dick does an unnecessary flip over the couch to take the place between the purple and blue candles. Next to him, Steph sits, her knee bumping the blue candle slightly. Jason struts over to sit next to Steph right between the blue and black candle. Duke shares the space with him, giving just a slightly nervous chuckle as Tim and Babs push the black and green candle apart a little to squeeze into though Babs remains in her chair.

"Alright, so the person with the candle on their right side has to light it. Do it at the same time. Once that happens, we join hands and do chat about the poem. Says only one person has to say the words, but if you want, I can send the link in the family group chat so we can all say it?" Tim waits to see them consider it, but Cass excited nodding has him copying the link he found on an online forum. A few dings go around the room as everyone checks their phones. "Now we have to decide on a sacrificial offering."

"We should do our most embarrassing secrets," Jason suggests.

"No, no, our fabulous hair!" Dick perks up, flipping said hair in a dramatic flair.

"It has to be something we all share," Tim says, eyeing Duke's short hair.

The other teenager makes an offended noise. "My hair is fabulous!"

"We offer the gay." Cullen cuts in. The rest turn to look at him as he wiggles his fingers. "Ohhhhhh! We're all fruity~! Spooky!"

"Babs isn't," Dick puts in only to see his best friend shake her hand in a so-and-so motion. He gapes at her before throwing his head back and laughing "We really do flock together!"

"So we agree? The gay?" Tim tries to say seriously, but his lips are twitching too much, trying to suppress a smile. There is agreement around the circle. He gives on a single node before passing around the matches Harper had brought. "How are we going to do this, though. Do we just shout, "I'm gay," or are we giving material things?"

"Let's write our gay awakening on a piece of people," Babs suggests grabbing her bag from where it hands on her chair handles. She tucks out a spiral notebook and a few pens. "I read that summoning needs something physical."

Everyone agrees as they pass along the notebook, writing down their awakening. Tim raises a brow at Damian's "Jon Kent" but doesn't call him out for it. After all, Conner Kent goes under his little brother's writing in his own writing.

He does wonder who Danny Fenton is, but knows better than to ask Cass about her life before the manor.

"Okay, let's do this! On the count of three- one-two-three!" Tim calls, watching Damian, Harper, Steph, and Duke simultaneously lite at the candle. They all hold hands, reading off phones that are prompted up by either their legs or kickstands on cases.

"We call upon the Undead King,

The one who bridges the realms,

The one who wields the Ring,

The one who will lead dies and breathes!"

There is a moment of silence where Tim swears he feels a slight shock along his fingertips, but it passes too quickly for him to care. Seeing as he is the ring leader, he calls out to the air. "Oh great King of the Dead, my siblings and I offer you a list of our gay awakening!"

"Stop, stop!" The youngest yells, leaping to his feet. His eyes are wild, scrambling to a far wall like a cornered animal. "No! He's coming!"

"Coming out the closet, like mama, I like boys, I like pecs

Like the arms when they flex!" Stephs suddenly sings, swaying in her seat. Everyone laughs before joining, and Tim wonders if they should have recorded this when suddenly Damian shrieks.

"Damian, who-"

The candles' flames all turn green as a haunting voice echoes through the room. "Your sacrifice has been accepted."

Tim's mouth drops open as the flames rise into the air forming a portal of liquid green. Familiar green. No wonder Daimain had been so scared. That was Lazarus Pit water. This meant this was the real deal, not just a random trend popularized by stupid teenagers.

Leaping Lizards Batman.

"What-what do we do!?" Cullen yelps as a burst of wind rips around the room, throwing everyone back. A laugh that sounds far too much like the Joker is heard through the portal as everyone tries to get into a fighting position with the wind pushing against them.

A head of snow-white hair peaks out and they are greeted by a laughing teenager. "A gay awaking sacrifice list! That's hilarious!"

"Who are you!" Tim hears Jason demand over the howling wings.

Another laugh, but this time, it sounds like clicking ice cubes is a response. "I'm Phantom!"

Tim has a second to see, wide green glowing eyes before the ghost reaches down, snatches their list, and zaps away.

Cass falls to her knees with a look of horror. "They know"

"I told you this was idiotic!" Damian screams, shaking so hard he looks like he will burst into tears in only a few seconds. Dick rushes over to him, pulling the sniffing boy into his arms. "We must never do this again!"

No one knows what to do in the wake of actually succeeding in calling the Ghost King or watching Dmaian cry from fear.

A ringtone plays from Cass's phone, breaking the ill silence. Tim catches a glimpse of "Danny" with two little hearts before his sister grabs the cell and leaps through an open window with what could only be a squeal.

"What the fuck just happened?" Cullen asks, but Tim can only offer him a shrug.

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #Ghost King Summon Dare au #Basically Cass met Danny on the streets #Gay awakening cause Danny is gender fluid #Damian is really scared of Danny #Prompt #Hope you like! #Dead Silent

[damianwaynerocks]

the funniest thing about the batfamily is that they're so smart but they all have zero introspection skills.

the batfamily is smart. so smart. and they deal with the mentally ill population all the time. and most of the time they treat them good! they help them!

i find it absolutely impossible that bruce isn't educated on psychology. there's no way he isn't. no way he hasn't studied psychology, whether it was to understand the joker or any other villains, whether it was to learn how to instill fear, practice for going undercover, hostage negotiation, how to tell the difference between mental health issues and just violent criminals (because he wouldn't know which ones he could talk sense into without understanding why they were doing it), whether it was to learn better methods of interrogation, or even just an interest in how the brain works.

and i guarantee most of the other batkids are too. bruce had to have taught them that so they could learn how to go undercover or how to tell whenever violence is necessary or if you can just talk them down.

dick has a law degree, which means he had to do undergrad. i think it's insane to think that he wouldn't have taken a psychology class. he also was able to understand damian and how to handle him, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he wasn't aware of how his upbringing would've shaped his neural pathways.

tim has a genius level iq. no way he doesn't understand how the brain works. also, he was able to tell that bruce was in a terrible mental state just by observing him as batman, where bruce does everything in his power to hide his emotions. he's also, several times, shown to be one of the only if the not the only batfamily member to understand why jason acts the way he does.

damian likely isn't terribly empathetic to mental health issues. probably a little more now, but not very. but like. he might not be empathetic to it but there's no way he doesn't understand how it works. how the frontal lobe works. how the amygdala works. how to manipulate someone.

stephanie was in college, and just like i said with dick, i find it hard to believe she wouldn't have taken a psychology class.

cass is cass. enough said.

also!! they all have a pretty good relationship with leslia thompkins!! a psychologist!!

all this to say: how on God's green earth do none of them realize they need therapy.

and like i get why. bruce has suppressed his emotions so much that he genuinely think he's fine. dick is too focused on being a support for everyone to worry about himself. jason and stephanie push it all down. cass, and this is not a diss because i love her, would realistically be very emotionally stunted. damian wasn't raised to be empathetic to the mentally ill and even if he was, he's 15. his frontal lobe is so not developed. plus the trauma they've all endured? the training they've had from bruce, who probably wasn't that concerned about teaching them self care and most definitely taught them to put their emotions aside. so like i get it. but also.

they know all this stuff and??? don't for a single second (except for tim that one time) be like "hmmm i could benefit from CBT and EMDR"

except duke.

how is duke the only one who's like "yeah. you guys aren't okay." duke knows. he tries to reason with them and has several times been like "you guys are crazy. why are you chill with this."

which is all to say. i'm convinced that at some point duke is going to try to sit them all down and be like "you guys need therapy. please go to therapy. I'm begging you."

#i know that the whole “duke is the voice of reason” is kinda more fanon than anything bc he has to be crazy too to be a vigilante #but im convinced he's self aware of it #and is like wow #you guys are #so traumatized #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin

[writingsbychlo]

when you hold me | azriel

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

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

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

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

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

not really someone who cuddles, y’know?

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

cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then you step into his life.

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

in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.

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

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

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

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

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

and he doesn't have anyone.

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

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

behind them is you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'd like that, very much.”

“until tomorrow, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“something got you all wound up, brother?”

“bite me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“mhmm..”

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

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

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

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

“told you so.”

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

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

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

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

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

“you can tell? how?”

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

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

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

“uh-huh.” 

“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he choked that down, too.

“what would I get out of that deal?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.

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

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

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

except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.

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

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

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

everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cassian hissed as he returned.

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

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

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

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

“let me look at your ankle, cass.”

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

“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“let me look.”

“no.”

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

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

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

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

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

“what about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re all done.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“where’s azriel? cassian?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“az, how are you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I trust that won’t happen again.”

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

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

“that is your job, is it not?”

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

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

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

“(Y/N)-”

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

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

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

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

hurt.

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

hurt.

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

hurt. hurt. hurt.

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

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

hurthurthurthurth-

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

“what happened?”

“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”

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

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

“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

“you’re not just-”

“lucien, please.”

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

“what was that?”

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

“how bad was it?”

“bad.”

“what. happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.

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

“hello.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he would talk to you after he’d eaten.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

“please, don’t shut me out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I like to be touched,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“our what?”

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

“five?”

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

“what about feyre?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what is yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.

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

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

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

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

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

“az. would you like to come in?”

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

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

“can I..?”

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

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

“you mean, like we did that night?”

“if you want.”

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

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

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

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

“I-.. I’m scared.”

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

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

and then his shoulders did.

his chest.

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

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

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

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

and you let him.

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

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

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

there was no way he could move now.

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

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

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

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

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

“you stayed.”

“is that okay?”

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

“I haven’t slept that well ever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was sleeping.”

“sleeping?”

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

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

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

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

his head spun. 

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

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

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

and so, it continued just like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“az, you’re back! how was it?”

“shit.”

“did you get it done?”

“of course.”

“good. join us. do you want a drink?”

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

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

“az, are you hurt?”

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

he didn’t care, not anymore.

“no.”

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

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

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

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

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

“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”

“whiskey, three fingers.”

“you got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what?! no, we were not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’d never felt so settled.

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

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

“big step you took tonight.”

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

“I’m proud of you.”

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

“what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

after that night, a line had been crossed.

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

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

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

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

“what’s wrong, angel?”

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

“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I- uh, okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“see you soon.”

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

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

“more than alright.”

“want to tell me about it?”

“not yet.” 

“in that case, good luck.”

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

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

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

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

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

he simply couldn't get enough. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it had been utterly perfect.

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

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

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

and that terrified him.

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

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

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

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

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

“you knew?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“az..”

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

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

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

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

“azriel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“want to spar about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“she’s my mate.”

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

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

“you knew as well?”

“yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“this morning, when we..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and?”

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

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

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

that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.

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

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

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

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

“are you serious, azriel?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“harsh, cass.”

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

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

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

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

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

the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.

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

“oh, gods..”

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

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

“you deserve it!”

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

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

“do you think I should-”

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

“OKAY, OKAY.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“az, she’s not in there.”

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

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

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

elain only shrugged once more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do you want to talk about it?”

“not really.”

“talk about it.”

“okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

well, there goes that relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry, angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you sure you still want me?”

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

“I love you.”

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

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

“you ready for bed?”

“..yes.”

“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you shifted again.

“az, honey, please-”

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

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

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

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

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

“no winning with you, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”

“much better.”

“we can cuddle now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x reader #azriel/you #azriel x you #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar/you #acotar/reader #a court of thorns and roses

[napakmahal]

Baby Fever

This may or may not be a call out towards myself cause I will swear up and down I don’t want kids then see a baby in public and be like “goo goo gaga”

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that working on slow days is beyond boring. What’s even worse is when the only people that come in on slow days are shitty customers.

“The manners of today’s working class have depleted in ways I cannot fathom!” Hiro came bursting into the back of the café restaurant with a look of disbelief on his face.

Without looking up from his phone, Tadashi answered “Wow those are some big words, little brother, I’m impressed.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed while sitting on the wooden countertop, arms hugging your boyfriend’s back. “What happened?”

Hiro plopped down on the stool in front of the sink and started to rant. “This woman comes in here and she bought a mocha latté and then complained about it being six dollars. Like I’m the one who makes the fricken prices! Surprise, surprise she didn’t have enough. So what did she do? SHE REACHED INTO THE TIP JAR AND GRABBED TWO DOLLARS! But then after I took her order and started making her drink, she followed me around the entire time watching me. She pointed at the simple syrup and was like ‘Can you add another pump?’ LIKE UNLESS YOU’RE GOING TO PAY THE EXTRA 25 CENTS NO I CANNOT! And when I finally gave it to her she said I took too long and that the place down the street makes them faster and they taste better. THEN GO THERE AND STOP WRINGING OUT MY PATIENCE!”

By the end of his story, you and Tadashi were losing your minds over how hard you were laughing. Granted, Hiro being upset wasn’t funny but his storytelling abilities were unmatched.

Customers could be very difficult and earlier that day someone had told Tadashi they wanted a manager because they were being pissy about not being able to get a refund on a drink they ordered and drank half of. If it were any other day, he would have just gone to get his Aunt. But Aunt Cass went out for a girl’s day with her friends since all of them happened to be in town and relatively free at the same time. As you get older, hanging out with friends is a privilege.

A couple of dings from the bell on the front counter rang signaling the arrival of a customer. Hiro’s fight of flight sense kicked in and he practically jumped off the floor.

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head. “I’m not taking them, my workday is over.”

“What?” Your boyfriend looked at his little brother. “It’s been two hours!”

“Yes Tadashi, it has been two hours!” He hissed. “Two hours of my life I will never get back. These people are insane!”

Hiro took off and locked himself in the walk-in pantry. He then proceeded to slam his face into an unopened bag of flour and scream his heart out.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so dramatic.” Tadashi stared at the door of the pantry, listening to his little brother’s muffled cries.

The bell was still ringing outside, the customer was still waiting. You laughed into Tadashi’s back, taking in his smell. Tadashi’s a clean person and not only that, his natural body smell is just pleasant. Just about everything you own smells like him, and you love it.

“Do you want me to get it?” You mumbled against his cardigan.

Your boyfriends turned around to look at you. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Just to help out.” You shrugged.

“Hun, you don’t work here. You really don’t have to.”

You scoffed, “You don’t work here either. Technically.”

“But I live here, so I kinda have to.”

“Tadashi, I practically live here.”

He laughed at that. It was pretty true. The only times you ever really went home were to get things you didn’t have, do your laundry, or if you felt like they were getting sick of you. Plus you never really feel like that anymore because the last time you said you feared Aunt Cass wanted you out of her house she almost started crying. She was afraid she’d done something to make you feel unwelcomed. Besides, you’re her girl in a house full of boys and their bots.

“Are you sure? I can get it, or force Hiro to do it.”

“No, it’s not a big deal.”

He leaned over and pecked you on the lips. “Okay, thank you hunny. I appreciate you so much.”

You walked outside the curtain only to be met with a young couple and their baby. He was holding onto her and trying to rip away a claw clip from her baby grip.

“Yeah, mommy’s clip is pretty.” He said in a small voice. “But we can’t eat it though.”

“What is she doing?” The mom asked looking back at her partner and their baby.

“Trying to eat your clip. I’m telling you she’s going to get sick, last night it was the pen then-”

“Hi there!” You walked towards them smiling. “So sorry about the wait.”

The mom shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We were trying to calm her down anyway.”

“What can I get you guys?”

They went on to order one green apple Italian soda with redbull, an iced hazelnut coffee, and a small warm almond milk with a cake pop. The entire time you were making their drinks, you couldn’t help but notice the babbling of their baby. She was adorable, dressed in a pink sundress and flower-shaped sunglasses. Everything from the sound of the blender to the noise the can of Red Bull made when popped open made her giggle.

During that entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if Tadashi and you had a baby? What would you name them? If it was a boy, then you could name them after him or Hiro. Naomi was a beautiful name for a girl. You could buy them little themed onesies and decorate their rooms. They would say ‘dada’ before ‘mama’ because it’s beyond simple to connect with Tadashi. And they could go to school and crush their science department and say it’s because their dad is a genius.

By the time you snapped back into reality, you’d already made all their drinks and made sure to cool down the small milk for the baby. When you placed everything on the dropoff, the little girl reached her hand down from where she was being held and poked the back of your wrist with her tiny finger.

“Hello there!” You smiled at her. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Your face only made her start to giggle and placed her hand on her chin and flicked it outwards. Thank you in sign language. In return, you placed your hand flat on your chin and pulled it down towards your chest to say ‘You’re welcome’.

“She’s beautiful.” You spoke to her parents. “What’s her name?”

“This is Nyla,” Her mom smiled at her baby. “She just turned ten months, so we’re almost there.”

You gently clapped your hands together, “Oh that’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“What about you?” Nyla’s dad asked.

Her mom joined in on the questioning. “Any little ones?”

You almost choked on your own saliva at their question. I guess to them it didn’t seem too extreme. They barely looked three years older than you.

“No, I don’t. I haven’t been with my current boyfriend long enough for that. And I don’t even know if he wants any.”

Nyla’s mom gave you a sympathetic face. “Well, if you end up wanting any I hope the process is smooth.”

You thanked them and signed “bye” to Nyla. Despite them being gone, the baby fever they’d given you without trying lingered all the way into the night.

——————————————————————————

While you were lying on your boyfriend’s bed scrolling on your phone through countless baby videos and falling down the rabbit hole of how skin-to-skin connection works and how to swaddle them correctly so they don’t scratch themselves when they sleep. As your back was turned you felt a dent in the bed as your boyfriend started kissing your back from your tailbone to your shoulder blades.

“What ya’ lookin’ at hun?” He plopped down next to you and started snaking his arms around your waist.

“Just scrolling,” You kept your answer vague out of fear of freaking him out. “Hey, did you know that if you rub a teething baby’s mouth with warm garlic it will make them feel better than cold cloths?”

Tadashi kissed the side of your jaw, the tingle of his minty toothpaste prickling your skin. “I did not, that’s pretty cool.”

“When you swaddle babies you’re supposed to get them little mittens because they have really sharp fingernails.” You added.

Tadashi’s face contorted with confusion. “Why all this baby talk? What are you watching?”

“Just a bunch of baby videos.”

“Why?”

You sighed and put the phone down to turn your body down and look him in the eyes. “Well, while I was helping those customers earlier. They had such a cute baby and we just talking about having kids and stuff and I think they gave me like- baby fever or something.”

To your surprise, he started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” You poked.

“I’m sorry,” He grabbed your wrists. “I didn’t mean to laugh, you just caught me off guard.”

Your heart flipped in your chest out of nervousness. Had you freaked him out? “Is that bad?”

“No, no it’s not.” He assured you. “So, you want a baby?”

You covered your face with your hands and groaned. “I mean, right now yeah but then I think about like the birth process and then I’m like ‘nuh unh.’”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a fantastic mom.” Tadashi smiled into your neck.

You leaned over and rammed your head into his stomach. “Can we have one?”

The feeling of Tadashi’s stomach fluctuating while he laughed pushed against your head. “Maybe later, hun.”

“So you do want kids?”

He grabbed you by the face and forced you to look back up at him. “Yeah, I’ve told you that before. I’ve said I want a daughter, and I want her to look like you, and I want to decorate her room and throw her birthdays, and go to all her school and sports events.”

“I want her to have your nose.” You admitted.

Tadashi started laughing and shaking his head. “No, no she will get bullied. Trust me I know.”

“No matter son or daughter, they should take Japanese lessons.” You added.

“Yeahhhh,” Tadashi breathed through his teeth. He knew enough Japanese to ask someone for very general directions. But the second a native speaker started talking a little too fast, all his comprehension skills started to deplete.

You could have kids in future years, when you had a shared place and both of you were done with school. Besides, it’s not like anything at all could break the two of you apart.

#baymax #big hero six #big hero 6 #tadashi hamada #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #hiro hamada x reader #disney #fanfic #napakmahal #baby fever

[confused-wanderer]

Alfred is badass and has unuasual skills even for a batfam member.

Inspired by pandaredd’s skit where Alfred says “Bond wishes he was me”

The man is the caretaker of the bat family, he has raised every damn member, and has seen more than his fair share of wars, doomsdays and worse. He is a butler. And god knows what else in the spare time. All I imagine is that if a teenage Bruce looks up at Alfred and whispers he wants to train, Alfred might be the one who gives him contacts.

Alfred:

Bruce:

Alfred: .. wait here master Bruce, I know you won’t even listen to what I’m saying so I will let you learn the arts. Only under one condition though, I choose your trainers

Teenage Bruce: Alfred, whom would you-

Alfred *already on the phone* : Hello there Lee

Teenage Bruce *wide eyes* *mouthing* : Rock Lee??

Alfred *scoffing* : what world do you think we live in! Be more realistic Master Bruce.

Bruce: .. so who is it?

Alfred: Bruce Lee.

The scariest thing about the butler is that he will take you apart in less than a blow, and he doesn’t even need weapons. He will however use them just for fun.He can still hear if Bruce or any of the batfamily sneaks around, he’s been the only one who somehow knew Cass was in the room and offered her snacks while she was hanging upside down from the ceiling in the pitch black and overall has better instincts to locate any of them in the mansion than a GPS tracking system.

When supervillains, nosy reporters or even crooks try to break into the Manor, the fact that no one installed a security system should’ve really been a warning point that the Waynes had other.. deadlier security.

By the time Jason comes home he sees Alfred cleaning up the carpet, but doesn’t miss the wrinkled edge of the sleeve. It is only then when he looks to the other room and the criminals are all sitting in time out, each a truly remarkable shade of blue, black purple and green he’s never seen in real life. And none of them were even bleeding.

Alfred also has insanely fast reflexes. And to everyone surprise, he is an bloody good shot. Green arrow was once testing out a new arrow and it accidentally whizzed past the target and almost hit the cat when out of nowhere Alfred caught it and snapped it with one hand. And then proceeded to borrow a pistol and shoot the target while walking to the other side of the room, not even sparing a glance at the bullseye he had hit. All the while holding a tray of glass bottles that hadn’t moved a single inch.

He’s given advice to Jason on how to make explosives out of everything and nothing, taught Dick how to cut a tree in half with one kick, showed Stephanie how to always win Russian Roulette, guided Damian on how to break bones without ever leaving traces, taught Tim how to mimic someone’s voice and be scarily accurate, and so much more. Once on live television the world saw Alfred eat three cookies and refuse to pass them to Bruce Wayne before saying “They’ve been poisoned” and throwing them away. A few people swear they heard him mouth “bloody amateurs” afterwards and he insisted he was fine, stating that he was already “used to it.”

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And that is why the bat cave is a safer option for batman’s enemies than the mansion. Because if you were caught by the butler, just know that god has already forsaken you.

#batman #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #tim drake #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #headcanons #Alfred pennyworth #Alfred the butler #Alfred #pandaredd #Stephanie brown #spoiler #Cassandra cain #orphan #robin #teenage Bruce Wayne #pandaredd skits #pandaredd Alfred #pandaredd batfam skits

[redbleedingrose]

Girl Dad!Cassian x reader Headcanons

A/N: I love me some girl dad Bat boys and Vanserra bros. TBH all the ACOTAR males would make incredible girl dads and I was just thinking about Cassian today. Anyway, this is for @augustinerose I know that it has been tough recently, so I hope this made you smile. <3

Cassian is a girls girl. He LOVES his daughter, and wants his babe to be able to express herself in any way she wants. So he def lets his daughter paint his nails pink and purple, and grins so wide when she smacks a kiss onto his cheek calling him pretty. And he takes real good care to paint her nails all nice and clean.

Cass is also happy to let his pretty princess put some makeup on him, with the blue eyeshadow and red lips. Male is not even the slightest bit embarrassed when you walk into your home to find him sitting on the floor so that your daughter can reach his face, six bows of all colors in his hair that is half braided and half curled, with your reddest shade of lipstick being smeared all over him. The guilty look from your babe stealing your makeup is too cute, and you settle down into Cass’ lap and ask her to do your hair and makeup too.

He would die for this child, and do practically anything to see a smile on her face, so he is gonna wear the purple tutu and tiara for his girl, and he is absolutely gonna have his pinky pointing out while he sips water from a tiny princess tea cup cuz his baby girl scolded him for not using "proper etticuite daddy."

Occasionally, she can also rope in Az and Rhys and they might roll their eyes and moan and groan, but they are gonna do anything for that little girl because they adore her and she is the only baby girl in the family so far. They spoil her like no other. You had to practically ban Rhys from getting her anymore dresses because there was no more storage in your home, and you nearly threw him into the Sidra when he offered to add another room to your home so he could fill it up with more jewelry and shoes and tutus for the “night court princess”

And on starfall, she does little dance routines for the whole family but she willet all shy about dancing her little ballerina routine in front everyone in the inner circle, so he helps her out and dances by her side even getting on his tippy toes despite everyone is snickering at him, this big burly male twirling around with his muscled arms pointed to the sky with his "mini me"

He loves pretending to chomp and eat her ruddy cheeks because it makes her cackle from deep in her tummy, and he is always blowing raspberries into her chubby belly. Don’t even get me started on those chunky thighs, and stinky feet. Cass wants to cry every single time he thinks about his pretty princess growing up. He wants her to stay young forever, to never worry about a single thing, to make sure that he can always watch over her and protect her.

When she was a newborn, he would steal her from the bassinet and take her on flights, wrapping her tiny wings into a wooly blanket to make sure they stay warm and cozy, and he would spend hours just flying around and telling her stories about his life, and stories about you. His favorite topic to talk about to her while she snoozes away is how much he loves you and how much he loves her. His obsession with his girls is truly a next level of adoration.

Ugh AND he loves cutting up fruit for her, and she just walks around munching on it with her tiny fist around the fruit and juices smeared across her cheeks. An he is always so gentle about wiping away the juices with a wet rag, having her sitting on the counter with her tiny legs swinging back and forth kicking his corded thighs while he cleans her ups and smooches her ruddy cheeks when he is done

Let us also discuss how Cassian learned how to braid hair by the Valkaryie warriors, and so he is the expert when it comes to doing her hair. Male can do twists and plaits so fast and instinctually, its insane. Most days, you have him doing your own hair. Oh, and she was born with a TUFT of hair that he would play with to soothe her. It is thick and dark just like his, and curls at the end, and he thinks it is one of his favorite features that he passed on to her.

OOOHHHH and imagine him teaching her to fly when she finally has the strength to control those muscles. She is all frustrated with fat tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks cuz “is too hard daddy” and he is down on one knee in front of her, rubbing his large hands over her tiny shoulders hushing her little cries, “s’okay baby, you’re right, it is hard,” and he smooches her cheek and pulls back to stare into her big eyes, “but you know what sweet girl? You can do it. It might take some time and practice, like most things do, but you will do it. And I will be here every step of the way, ‘kay?” And she sniffles, rubbing her tears away with a tiny fist and snuggles into his big chest while nodding.

Every birthday, he buys her a bouquet of flowers. And he also buys you a bouquet of flowers, making sure to thank you for the best gift he has ever received.

Okay maybe I will add more to this later, but this all I got for now, I hope you enjoyed!!!

#girl dad!cassian x reader #Girl dad!Cass x reader #girl dad!cassian #girl dad!Cassian acotar #girl dad!Cass #cassian acotar #general cassian #cassian x reader #girl dad cassian #pre-girl dad!Cassian #cassian fanfic #cassian fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfic

[scoobydoodean]

would love to hear more about the “chuck was the one who brainwashed cas and kelly actually” theory, thank you :)

Okay so I'm going to sound like I'm not addressing your question at all at first but just bear with me.

One of the primary reasons that the baby brainwashing incident fascinates me is that Cas's actions are a betrayal of his and Dean's bond on a foundational level. I'm not talking about The Colt or the mixtape (though they're related).

Dean and Cas's relationship as handler and charge was shed and a real, genuine bond bloomed in 4.22, after this exchange:

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. 

These are the words that convince Cas to rebel. These are the words that dissolve Cas's doubts in doubt, and convince him to follow his convictions instead of act on blind faith. Shortly after this conversation, Cas flies Dean to Chuck, who tells them what they're up to isn't supposed to happen. This becomes a theme of Dean and Cas's relationship.

Together, Dean and Cas do things that aren't supposed to happen—that aren't part of God's plan. They do something Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.18. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.22. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 5.22.

Dean and Cas's relationship, at its very core, is built upon the rejection of two things: 1) Destiny and 2) Paradise—and by the end of "The Future", Cas explicitly (in the production draft) embraces destiny and paradise... and that screams Chuck.

This is what Cas says to Kelly right after the devil baby brainwashing at the very end of "The Future". The "Paradise" part doesn't make it to the final cut—just the "future" part... but the Paradise part is implied by the "future" part anyway.

What else happens in "The Future"? Kelly says the line.

It's not supposed to happen this way.

She says the line that Chuck said every time Dean and Cas defied the writing during the first apocalypse by doing something Chuck couldn't or didn't anticipate. Kelly says this after Sam and Dean catch up to Castiel—after Sam and Dean convince Cas to just talk through all of this with them and not jump to the nuclear option of murdering Kelly—to consider an alternative plan where Kelly and Jack's lives are both preserved because Jack is born a regular baby. The moment Cas begins to agree to talk, Kelly says "It's not supposed to happen this way."

Now let's talk about Kelly. Her behavior this entire episode is insane. She begins the episode despairing because giving birth to Jack will kill her. She then tries to kill herself, but Jack won't let her die—and this throws Kelly into a sort of religious fervor—convincing her that Jack is actually good and could revolutionize the world. Her belief in this is so powerful that when Sam and Dean arrive, she immediately rejects the plan they've come up with that will spare her and Jack's lives:

Sam: No, Kelly, if you go with Cass, you die. Your baby dies. Kelly: I go with you, you take away the thing that makes him special.

She sounds nuts. Like. Imagine saying you'd rather you and your baby DIE than have a "normal" baby. Your baby HAS to be a special baby or you'd rather be dead? Uh... ew—and to a point that screams supernatural brainwashing.

Of course—Kelly's actions aren't quite as irrational as they seem because right before Sam and Dean arrived, Kelly was shown something by "Jack". She got Cas to lay his palm on her belly, and "Jack" showed her a vision of the future. After she takes off with Cas in the impala, she says,

When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate, if I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born.

So even as she's driving herself straight into Cas's plan to kill her and her baby, Kelly believes everything will be fine—because "Jack" showed her the future... and the thing is? She's... not wrong. "Jack" did show her the future. "Jack" showed her a tiny moment that actually does happen at the end of the episode—Cas standing between her and Dagon and saying "You stay away from her".

Why do I keep putting "Jack" in quotes here? Because Jack never displays the ability to see the future after his birth, and yet "Jack" did have this power from the womb... only? Yeah... I'm not so sure. I'm wondering if it was someone else—someone who showed Kelly what they had already written.

I'll also note in 13.01, that Jack doesn't seem to remember... any of this happening—at least not in the same way. In fact, he recalls very little leading up to his birth. The way he describes it, his sole knowledge of the world prior to his birth came from Kelly speaking to him while he was in the womb... but also... not? Because he says he was Kelly?

SAM: How do you speak English? JACK: My mother taught me. SAM: So you talked to her. JACK: I was her. JACK: My mother, she said Castiel, he would keep me safe. She said the world was a dangerous place. That's -- that's why I couldn't be a baby or a child. I... That's why I had to grow up fast. That's why I chose him to be my father. Where is he?

It's all pretty confusing, but something blinks at me here: Jack says Kelly told him Castiel would keep him safe and indicates that he chose Castiel as his father based on Kelly's assessment. However, Kelly told us Jack showed her the future which told her that Castiel would keep Jack safe back in 12.19. These are two contradictory stories. What if a third party sowed both?

Two other little bits:

First:

Kelly: Maybe – maybe everything that I've been through, everything that I still have to go through, is happening for a reason. Maybe it's part of some plan. Castiel: No, it isn't. I used to believe in a plan. I used to believe that I had some mission. But I have been through enough now to know that everyone is just winging it. 

Castiel does a 180 on this by the end of the episode and it screams Chuck Chuck Chuck Chuck.

Second:

If you go to the 12.19 production draft (graciously provided to the fandom through @/spnscripthunt) on page 45, you'll see something that never made it to screen—Cas's vision of paradise.

Only—these visions don't seem to come to fruition unlike Kelly's vision of Cas protecting her. The bits with Dean and Castiel's wings don't feel like the future anyway—they... just feel like what Cas wants most desperately at that time—to be a protector and provider who can handle everything on his own—who needs a "win". This is another theme of the episode. Cas stole The Colt in a misguided attempt to protect his family from having to be directly involved in the ruthless murder Cas had determined would be necessary. He didn't believe there was any other choice, and he wanted to spare Sam and Dean the pain of being involved in the dirty work.

Sam: Then – Then why didn't you call us? Cas, we could've helped you. Castiel: I know. I wanted to keep you out of this. I-I was trying to keep you safe. Dean: You're not our babysitter, Cas, okay? That is not your job. And when in our whole lives have we ever been safe?

This probably stings for Cas because he knows they aren't, and he wants them to be—he wants his family to be safe... all without having to discard his conscience by killing Kelly. He wants her to be safe too! The stuff he sees gives him what he wants--Sam and Dean and Kelly happy and safe—Dean thanking him—Cas once more a fully powered angel who doesn't need anybody's help.

But all of this stuff he sees? It's a lie. It's a lie because it never happens, but it's also a lie because destiny is always a lie. Paradise is always a lie. God's plan is just a way to keep them all in line... and Cas is trying to secure paradise for someone who said they'd take the pain and the guilt over someone else's vision of their paradise.

#mail #no one can control you but you #12.19 #13.01 #jack #kelly #and cas is my best friend #spn and causality #chuck #cas and power #castiels motivations

[waywardducks]

Incorrect bat family quotes but as things me and my sibling have done/said.

Jason: *just trying to read* *feels an eery presence just watching him.*

Damien and Tim: *both just starting at him*

Jason: Yes? Can I help you?

Tim: Slushies

Jason: okay?

Damien: Take us to them.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick: *Chilling in his bed*

Cass: *very slowly opening the door to his room*

Both: *just stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time*

Dick: Please, child. What is it? I can't handle this suspense.

Cass: *quietly* I have a pool party today…

Dick: okay? I'm glad for you.

Cass: …

Cass: Can you go buy me tampons?

Dick:

Dick: Of fucking course I can go buy you tampons! *already jumping out of bed* What size?

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Damien: *angry, slamming doors, punching walls, screaming at everyone*

Tim: Autism is one hell of a bitch

Dick: Tim, no

Jason: No, no, he's got a point. We really should get him checked out.

Damien: I CAN HEAR YOU

*he was diagnosed with autism the following month*

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Stephaine: *putting makeup on Cass* almost done!

Tim: we need to hurry, the movie is starting soon

Stephanie: It's fine, we have plenty of time, now let me do your makeup.

Dick: What are y'all doing? Why is everything… pink?

Cass: We are going to watch Barbie

Dick: Can I come?

Steph: Nah it's girls night?

Dick: Then why is Tim going?

Steph: He's one of the girls, obviously.

Tim: Yeah, obviously.

Dick: *crying* I wanna be one of the girls too

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Bruce: Hey, Tim

Tim: Yeah? What's up?

Bruce: Remember how you're therapist mention she thought you might have ASD?

Tim: Yeah, she said she wasn't %100 percent sure on it though.

Bruce: Well she just sent me a document confirming your diagnosis.

Tim:

Dick: Woah dude! Congrats on the tism!

Jason: Welcome to the spectrum little bro!

Damien: Is Dick the only one that isn't ASD?

Dick: *is sad bc he's left out of the club again*

- ✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dick, Tim, Jason and Damien: *driving down the road at 4 in the morning, blasting fnaf songs at full volume* IVE GOT NO TIME!! I've GOT NO TIME TO LIVE

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tim: Jason. I'm bi

Jason: Okay

Tim: Okay? That's all you have to say?

Jason: damn Tim, tf you want be to say? Sorry?

Tim: No! I just thought-

Jason: If you have boy problems go to Dick. He's the one with the most experience in that field.

Dick: Hey! I resent that!

Jason: Oh please, you can call yourself straight all you want but you and both know you've what kinda person you were when you first became Nightwing.

Dick: I wasn't gay Jason I was a slut its different.

Jason: sure, okay.

-✨✨✨✨✨✨

I'm gonna make this a series lmao. Being in a house with 6 kids gives you a lot of stories.

Also, yes, 3 of my younger siblings are officially diagnosed with autism. (Damien and my sister are literally the same person. I have so many headcanons about it, it's not even funny. She even has the same insane art skills, I'm terrified of how fast she learned to do things I've been in school for years to learn)

#stephanie brown #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #dc comics #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin

[ghost-bxrd]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ghost talks #fae dick grayson #faerie folk #the other things #pagan folklore #the things from the woods #the ones that grin from darkness #the birds with no feathers #the things that call between the trees #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #robin #batfam #bruce wayne #tim drake #red hood #duke thomas #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #Damian wayne #Damian al ghul

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Thinking about disabled AK!Jason tonite with a disabled s/o

Let's be fr this man could/should be an ambulatory wheelchair user but he won't because he doesn't know that's a thing and wouldn't think he deserved it. If you're an ambulatory wheelchair user maybe one day you manage to lovingly bully him into just TRYING it and it is life changing

He uses his ambulatory energy to do Red Hood shit nbd

if he doesn't use a wheelchair he's got at least 2 braces--shoulder and knee

Baby has chronic pain, arthritis, chronic migraines from being beaten

Missing some teeth too

take this boy to your neuro or your ortho!!!! he is totally unaware he does not need to live like this. better living through chemistry

let's get him some therapy too

you WILL have to go to his drs appointments with him. mans WILL freak the fuck out for ANY medical procedure, has very serious medical abuse trauma. if he can see how your drs help you he is much more likely to go if he can see that you are benefiting from your providers and that they haven't harmed you

if you're scared of drs he will FULLY stand behind you. probably not that healthy tbh but he gets it

having a special Migraine Protocol for each of you (it's basically just a snack and a drink, blue light filter glasses, a sleep mask with headphones for that special Migraine Playlist)

make your own pain scales and talk through frequency of pain bc when you have constant or near constant pain it fucks up your ability to quantify it so making your own pain scale is helpful (he probably uses shakespeare plays or authors. like a 5 for jason is twilight, because you can see some problems but it's fun and fluffy but when you start looking closer OH NO SO MANY PROBLEMS)

pain meters on a wall near the kitchen so you can know what you're working with

CBD patches

the AK suit is basically a giant brace/mobility aid so you help him figure out how to adapt it for his red hood persona, how to make it lighter and allow for greater ROM

will remind you to do physical therapy

resistance bands ALL OVER THE HOUSE

learning bodywork techniques

AT LEAST once a week using a special oil or lotion to work into some of his bigger scars to make the tissue more mobile

giving him a back/neck/scalp/face massage

after a while obvi that's a lot of trust he's putting in you

NOT deep tissue. don't hurt him more. you can have effective therapeutic massage without hurting a person

trager work involves basically shaking a limb and letting the weight of the muscle do all the work but it feels weird the first time and he'd just start laughing at you

specially if you do his glutes

but it feels really nice so he stops laughing and it does help his lower body pain

putting magnesium lotion on each other's neck and shoulders

start to ask each other "are you angry or in pain?"

hand massages

teaching him to stop pushing through the pain

one of his knees is basically bone on bone so you always know when the weather is changing

if u both have bad knees u just don't even when the weather is changing. take some pain meds, use your topical pain reliever of choice, prop those joints up and snuggle in bed. watch a youtube series or he can read to you

heated blankets as heating pads supremacy

occasionally he'll be in pain and the kind of pain where you feel like you're going insane, so as a distraction he will go online and buy a bunch of weird pain-relieving gadgets and you'll spend a week trying them out

(sometimes his pain fog shopping spree is blind boxes, or nail polish, or statement shirts)

all of his siblings know to come to your place if they get beat tf up because your medicine cabinet is UNreal

you're about to give cass or steph a Controlled Substance Pain Reliever and you pause "this is technically drug dealing, isn't it? dOn'T teLL rEd hOOD" jason is literally patching them up right next to you

soft blankets

reminding each other it's ok to take it slow

he's constantly tearing into the other rogues for not having ADA accessible lairs (except Ivy who successfully argued that the plants make it ADA accessible which will do. FOR NOW.)

#jason todd #red hood #arkham knight #ak!jason todd #reader insert #x reader #jason todd x reader #ak!jason x reader #my stuff #chronic migraine #dc brainrot #invisible disability #chronic pain #disability #seriously low back trager work has no business being as effective as it is #i miss doing massage :(