#of course cass is angel

[clockwayswrites]

Die Screaming, Live Laughing

Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)

cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones

The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.

Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.

He spins the lens again.

Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.

If Tim went to college, that is.

He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.

Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…

The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.

This isn’t a deer bone.

Tim knows this shape.

This is human. A femur.

“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”

Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.

The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”

“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”

“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”

“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”

Tim swings.

The femur goes right through the stranger.

“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”

“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.

“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”

“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”

“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.

It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.

“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”

“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”

“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”

“What is it? Your name?”

“Danny.”

“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.

Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.

The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.

It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.

It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.

“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.

“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.

“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.

Then he keeps going forward.

The world explodes into light.

-

“Tim?!”

“Are you sure he’s still alive?”

“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”

“Pulse.”

“Tim!”

Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.

“You okay?” Cass asks.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”

“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?

Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.

Tim starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.

“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.

“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”

“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.

Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.

---

AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.

Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!

[casscainmainly]

Cassandra Cain and Asian Stereotypes

So I've seen people debating whether Cass is a racist character or not because she falls into certain Asian stereotypes. While this discussion is valid and important, a lot of the conversation (on this website and beyond) is steered by White/non-Asian people, or people who haven't read a lot of Cass' stuff. This is my take on Cass and Asian stereotypes as a Chinese Cass fan. I do not speak for all Asians, or even all Chinese people, who are absolutely free to disagree with any of these arguments.

Stereotypes I will cover here: Silent Asian, Model Minority, and Hypersexuality.

The Silent Asian Stereotype

The most obvious stereotype Cass runs into is the Silent Asian. I would recommend reading the linked article for more information. Silent Asian characters are Asians who are part of a core cast, but rarely speak. Kimiko Miyashiro in The Boys, Lilly in Pitch Perfect, and Katana in Suicide Squad are all examples of this. The article also mentions Ben from Umbrella Academy, who can only communicate with one character, thus limiting his dialogue.

Why does this happen? Removing Asian characters' dialogue reflects the Western conception of Asians as demure, rule-following, and meek, never speaking up or acting out. It also means writers don't have to spend as much time writing these Asian characters, who are secondary to White protagonists.

The problem with the Silent Asian, then, is not the silence itself, but the consequences of silence. Mute Asians exist, as do Asians who don't speak much; in media, Silent Asians are harmful because they indicate an unwillingness to focus on the Asian character.

This is why Cass, even before she learns to speak longer sentences, is not a Silent Asian. While her conception undoubtedly has unfortunate echoes of this trope, she defies it by being the protagonist of the story. A protagonist cannot be a Silent Asian, because a requirement of the trope is being a secondary character. Cass' feelings and actions are the center of Batgirl (2000), so allegations of this stereotype don't actually make sense.

Furthermore, the trope is about passivity and acquiescence to a White authority. From her introduction, Cass is neither passive nor acquiescent - her origin story is literally about defying David Cain, a White male authority figure. Beyond her not speaking much, she ticks none of the boxes for this stereotype. I think it's time for people to stop mentioning this stereotype in conjunction with Cass, who in every possible way subverts it.

The Model Minority Stereotype

The model minority myth is the belief that Asians are more successful and talented than others, particularly other minoritised groups. Like the Silent Asian, the model minority myth paints Asians as obedient and submissive. This is, in many ways, more insidious than the Silent Asian - there are still people who believe this stereotype (and jokes like 'of course you're good at math, you're Asian') is somehow not racist.

Though this myth seems positive, make no mistake that White people invented this tale for two reasons: to put down Black and Brown communities, and to prevent Asians from ever fully assimilating into White culture.

Cass plays on this myth very interestingly. I've discussed in this post how David Cain and Bruce's assertion that she's 'perfect' is a blatant reference to the model minority myth - by describing her as 'perfect' to them, they are centering their own desires, erasing Cass' individuality.

This is partially why I don't like 'Cass is Bruce's favourite' and 'Cass is an angel who can do no wrong' interpretations when people are just saying it without context. Cass being Bruce's favourite, or Bruce seeing her as an angel, is not a good thing - it is a representation of his biased attitude towards her. He is unable to accept her being a murderer because he is trapped within the model minority mindset. This is not saying Bruce is a full-on racist, but that his actions and perspectives are coloured by his Whiteness.

Cass' abrasive personality, willingness to defy Bruce and David, and very real flaws (her inability to see grey areas, communication difficulties, etc.) make her avoid this stereotype. Additionally, her close relationships with Black characters like Onyx and Duke are essential to combating the anti-Blackness at the core of the model minority myth. Her character evokes the stereotype (perfect martial arts silent fighter), but ultimately defies it through being the star of her own story (and also not being good at math. The fact she doesn't have anything to do with tech is actually one of my favourite aspects of her character, because I am TIRED of tech Asian characters).

The Hypersexual Asian Woman Stereotype

Asian women are often exoticised and fetishised as the ideal sexual partner; think of the term 'yellow fever', which describes men lusting after Asian women. The hypersexualisation of Asian women in media once again goes hand-in-hand with Asians being submissive. They are seen as innocent and child-like, while simultaneously being seductive and sexually experienced.

This stereotype is genuinely perpetuated in Batgirl (2000), mainly by the art in Horrocks' run. Where in Puckett's run there is refreshingly little sexualisation of Cass, once you hit Horrocks' run you get a LOT more shots of her lying down, sexually suggestive covers, etc. People have discussed this already, probably to more effect than I will do here.

However, as I wrote in my Gender and Sexuality posts, the writing is actually fairly defiant of this trope. Cass is vocally uncomfortable with hypersexualisation, and neither of her male love interests stick around. The problem with the Hypersexual Asian Woman is the focus on White sexual interests, where the woman is objectified for the White male gaze. Simply because Cass is the protagonist, the writing focuses on her sexual interests, and in the end it's about gaining control of her gender presentation and sexuality.

Cassandra Cain Vs. Asian Stereotypes

The through-line that connects all these Asian stereotypes is a lack of agency. There's a reason passiveness is the main trait for all of these tropes- the Asian body must be weaker than their White counterparts, in order to be tools or weapons against other minoritised groups.

Cassandra Cain, a character born from a choice that defies White male authority, rises above this passiveness with flying colours. The details of her character certainly fall into some of the above tropes, and the way her character is handled later (evil Cass, New 52), is certainly racist. However, the reason she means so much to me is because at its core, her story is a story of Asian agency. And that in itself is unstereotypical.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Figuratively Dying

Summary: the night before their wedding, Cassian is losing his mind.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: a tiny lil fluffy drabble to let you all know im coming back w my fics now that many of u are done with exams hehe 🤭

Cassian was dying.

Figuratively, he was dying.

Literally, he was very much alive, if his restlessness was any indication.

Every few moments, his wings would twitch, nervousness and anticipation slowly trickling into his bloodstream, making it impossible to sit still.

"Sit down brother. Time is not going to pass quicker if you burn a hole in the floor."

Cassian snarled in response, eyes flitting over to meet star flecked ones of Rhysand, who exposed his palms in a placating motion. "I’m just saying. Instead of tiring yourself out and making us dizzy, why don’t you sit down and have a drink?"

Azriel snorted in response. "Do you really think he cares about your opinion right now?"

Cassia reigned in a snarl, instead turning to stare out the open doors of the balcony, his mind again contemplating knocking out his brothers just so he could go to meet his love.

Cassian was being held captive.

It was downright cruel, if he said so himself. Mor had come up with the stupid rule. That he was to stay away from his soon to be wife for a whole day before their wedding.

Why, Cassian couldn’t understand. But here he was, being forced to comply.

"Cass-"

"I swear on the dark waters of the cauldron Rhys, if you don’t shut you big mouth now, I am going to fucking knock you out."

"I’m just-"

Thump.

Wide hazel eyes flew to Cassian’s, alarmed, as Rhys lost consciousness.

Cassian stared back, hand burning from the blow he had dealt, and finally, Azriel gestured at him. "Go. I am not stopping you."

"Fucking finally." Cassian mumbled as he stalked out into the open night, his wings stretching to catch the wind in their leathery grip, and then let them carry him away.

The clear air penetrated his lungs, expanding them to their full might, and washed all his nervousness for the day after away. Everything was going to go well. He was sure of it.

But he was so tired. He missed her so much.

It didn’t take long until he was hovering over the balcony that led to the room he shared with his lover, Y/n.

Slowly, so slow that a snail would have laughed at him, Cassian let himself land, eyes already searching for her without permission.

"Sunshine?"

Silence. Heavy, pregnant silence.

And then- "Cass?"

The puff of air turned white in front of his face, and steeling himself, he stepped forward.

There she stood, in nothing but a silk nightgown, staring at him with wide eyes. "What- what are you doing here?"

He said nothing, giving himself a moment to admire the angel that had blessed him by just even looking in his direction.

"Cass?"

He stepped forward, his wings folding of their own accord the closer he got to her. Y/n simply stared at him, perplexed, and refused to move even when he reached out to her. Which he was happy about as he grabbed her in his arms, releasing a breath of relief.

"Oh I missed you, sunshine."

"Is that why you are here? You do know Mor will have your head if-"

"Mor can shut the fuck up. The fact that she does not have an angel of a wife to cuddle with does not mean I should stay away from mine."

He could hear her blood rushing to her face, and sure enough, when he pulled back from mumbling into her neck, she refused to meet his eyes.

"Cass-"

"Yes, sunshine?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing smirk, finally leaning into his embrace. "I missed you too."

Cassian hummed, walking her back until they had reached the bed. Then he picked her up, her thighs wrapping around his waist, and crawled onto the plush material of the mattress. "Good night."

She yelped as he dropped all his weight onto her, and even though Cassian knew she liked it, he could not help but wonder if he should have been gentler. "Are you staying here?"

He scoffed. "Of course I am. Where else would I stay?"

"Mor-"

"Shh. I love you." He mumbled, pressing his face into her chest.

He could feel her vibrating laughter, and it made him smile too, knowing he was the reason.

"Good night. I love you." She muttered, reaching her fingers out to caress the back of his head softly. "I can’t wait for tomorrow."

"Me neither."

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[serpentandlily]

Wicked Games - Halloween Special

Dark!BatBoys x Reader (modern au)

Summary: The boys corrupt their captured Angel.

Warnings: drug use, thigh riding, dark themes (mdni)

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! 🎃✨ hope you enjoy this little Halloween special with our favorite boys!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥Part III

༺♥༻

Halloween Special

༺♥༻

The music was pounding through the speakers, the lights pulsating mixed colors on the floor and walls. The atmosphere was dark and sensual. Fake cobwebs hung in the corners of the walls, spooky decorations placed all over.

It was Halloween night and the club was packed full of people in all sorts of costumes. You surveyed the dance floor, watching the mixture of bodies all moving together to the fast paced music.

You were where you always were when you came to Velaris, the illustrious night club. In the VIP section, perched on the owner’s lap—Rhysand’s lap.

He was lucky he was much taller than you otherwise the white feathered wings you had strapped to your back would’ve smothered his face.

You were dressed as an Angel. Your costume had, of course, been picked out by Rhysand. It was hardly more than some skimpy white lingerie completed with a halo headband and the wings.

Rhysand was dressed as the Devil in all black, with horns clipped in his hair. Not much of a costume but considering he already was a devil in disguise, it suited him.

Cassian and Azriel were dressed as his demons. Both also had horns clipped to their hair and wore massive bat-like wings.

An Angel and her devil and two demons.

You had to admit, they all looked hot—devilishly handsome. Just the sight of them alone had your pulse racing. You knew by the grin on their faces that they felt it too.

You sipped on your cocktail, already on your second one and feeling a nice buzz. Rhysand leaned forward, brushing your hair to one side.

“Having fun, Angel?”

His breath ghosted the tip of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Not too long ago you had been in a similar position with him while his fingers were inside of you. The thought of that night caused an ache between your legs.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, leaning into his touch. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand flat against your stomach.

“Such good manners tonight,” Cassian teased from next to you. “Maybe you should always keep this costume on.”

“Don’t tease her, Cass.” Azriel’s dark and husky voice came from your other side. You felt him graze the back of his knuckles against your upper arm. “Not while she’s being such an angel.”

You smirked at Cassian. You always loved it when Azriel took your side. Cassian playfully narrowed his eyes at you in challenge.

“I think she deserves a sweet treat,” Rhysand purred. “Do you guys agree?”

You twisted your head to the side to look at Rhys. Your eyes met Rhy’s violet ones full of mischief and lust. Your eyebrows raised in question as his two demons nodded their agreement.

Rhysand reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was a small baggie filled with a few translucent looking patches.

“What is that?”

“This, Angel, is called the Devil’s Tongue,” Rhys whispered. He leaned down, nipping at your ear. “It’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

He sat up straight, raising a single eyebrow at you in question. You weren’t a stranger to drugs, though you’d never tried this one before. But it was Halloween after all, and the Devil was offering you the chance to sin.

You held out your palm but Rhys smacked it down.

“Pick one of my demons, Angel.”

You were confused, facing forward again to look at Cassian and Azriel. Cassian grinned at you but Azriel’s face held just a small smirk.

“Azriel,” you said. He had been on your side earlier, after all. Cassian gave you a faux pout while Azriel’s smirk turned into a grin.

A grin that looked anything but friendly. You swallowed nervously. Perhaps you had chosen wrong.

Rhysand opened the baggie and pulled out one of the tiny square patches. You watched with curiosity as Azriel opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Rhys placed the translucent patch right on his tongue.

The Devil’s Tongue indeed.

“If you want it,” Rhys purred as he gripped both your wrists in his hand. “You’ll have to take it from him.”

You knew where this was going. Rhysand was going to continue to hold your arms back so if you wanted it, you’d have to use your own tongue to take it from him. It really should’ve taken you longer than half a second to decide what you wanted but when in Rome…

You made eye contact with Azriel, bristled at the challenge in his hazel eyes. Fine then. You’d show them.

You leaned towards him, your eyes fluttering closed. You stuck your tongue out, letting it swirl over his before licking the patch right off his tongue. But you took things further as Azriel pulled his tongue back into his mouth and smashed your lips against his.

Azriel was quick to react, meeting your passionate vigor with his own, a small grunt escaping from him. Rhys shifted you in his lap with a groan, clearly enjoying the show you and Azriel were putting on.

You felt the drug dissolve in your mouth as you continued to kiss Azriel. His tongue darted out again, swiping your bottom lip. You parted your lips with a small gasp, letting him in.

Cassian let out a jealous growl from behind you, his calloused hand gripped your thigh. You continued to make-out with Azriel, groaning into his kiss as you felt Rhysand harden beneath you.

Cassian’s large hands moved to your waist, yanking you from Azriel and pulling you to face him. You smirked at the feral hunger in his eyes, the envy behind it.

“My turn,” he growled.

You tilted your head at him. “I don’t know, Cassian. I don’t think you’ve been very good tonight.”

His eyes sparked and he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “Tonight isn’t about me being good, baby girl. It’s about seeing just how bad we can make you.”

He pulled back to give you a wolfish grin.

“Why don’t you show my demon a little mercy, Angel?” Rhysand murmured. “Open up.”

The command in his voice had you parting your swollen lips, sticking your tongue out so he could place one of the tiny patches on it.

Cassian launched forward, licking the drug right off your tongue before grabbing you by the back of the head and crashing his lips against yours with a groan.

Azriel’s kiss had been sensual, slow and tantalizing. But Cassian was rougher with you, a mixture of teeth and lips that had you panting. You mindlessly grinded your ass into Rhysand’s hard cock needing more and more.

The drug was starting to kick in now. You could feel it inside of you, amplifying the emotions you were already feeling and leaving your mind spinning. Desire lit a flame in the lower pit of your stomach, your core pulsating with need.

Rhysand pulled you away from Cassian, who whined in response. You squealed as he spun you around easily, until your legs straddled his hips and you faced him. His eyes were dark with lust and he growled as his cock pressed against your clothed center.

“Open,” he commanded.

Your eyes were half-lidded as you stared at him with just as much hunger. You stuck your tongue out, letting him place another tablet on it. He swirled his tongue around yours, much like you had done to Azriel, before licking the patch from you.

Every inch of your skin was on fire. The air was heavy with desire and need. You wanted so much more. Wanted to take and take and take what you needed from them.

Azriel and Cassian’s hands were all over you, stroking your spine, your thighs, your shoulders. Any bit of exposed skin they could reach. You tossed your head back with a sigh, looking up at the pulsating colors on the ceiling that changed to the beat of the loud music.

“You are so hot,” Cassian growled, scraping his canines against the lobe of your ear.

“Beautiful,” Azriel breathed, kissing up your shoulder to your neck.

“Our little Angel is just as sinful as we are,” Rhysand purred.

More. You needed more.

“Rhys,” you whined, unsure why. All you knew was the ache between your thighs was almost unbearable. Cassian nipped at your throat as Azriel’s tongue lapped at the swell of your breast.

“What is it, Angel?” Rhysand crossed his hands behind his head, his gaze drifting between your eyes and your body that was perched perfectly in his lap—The Devil, king of the underworld without a crown, letting his demons corrupt his captured Angel.

“I want…” you mewled out between pants of air. “I need more.”

“Go on, Angel.” Rhysand grinned and you were spinning again. “Take what you need from me.”

Cassian’s hands trailed down your thigh, sliding under it and lifting your leg moving it between Rhysand’s lap so you were straddling one thigh. Azriel was kissing up your throat, gripping your chin with his hand to keep you in place.

Rhysand jerked his knee and you gasped as his leg rubbed against your center. Your eyes widened as you turned your head around to glance at the club but with Azriel and Cassian huddled so close to you and Rhysand, their large wings blocked your view.

“No one can see you, sweetheart,” Azriel said darkly, twisting your face to his. “No one is allowed to see you. Not like this.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, relishing in the feeling of his soft lips. Cassian’s hand roamed your body, kneading your breasts, running up and down your bare thighs while Rhysand watched intensely.

“Help her, Cassian,” Rhysand ordered.

You were still too wrapped up in Azriel’s kiss, letting his tongue explore your mouth to understand what Rhysand meant. That is, until you felt Cassian grab you by your hips and rocked you on Rhysand’s thigh.

You gasped into Azriel’s kiss, a shot of electricity piercing through your body as your core rubbed against Rhysand’s leg. Cassian rocked you again and again, guiding your movement as he lapped at your throat, your jaw, the tops of your breasts. Anywhere he could.

“That's it, baby girl,” Cassian encouraged. “Use Rhys for your own pleasure. Let us make you feel good.”

Your Angel wings and breasts bounced softly with every roll of your hips. It wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge, not with the drug amplifying every feeling, every brush against your skin.

Cassian’s hands went back to roaming your body as you took over riding Rhysand’s thigh on your own. The grunts and groans coming from all three of them, the sight of Rhysand straining against his pants, only turned you on even more.

The pressure was building and building in the pit of your stomach. The colors of the club mixed together, the beat of the music serving as a guide for the movement of your hips.

You were so close. So close.

Azriel bit down on your bottom lip right as Rhysand purred, “Come for us, Angel. Let us hear those beautiful cries.”

The tiny spark of pain, his words, the feeling of his thigh rubbing against you—it knocked you right over the edge. You pulled away from Azriel’s kiss, tossing your head back as your orgasm shot straight through you.

It was lightening, euphoric, peaking you so high that the tumble down had you falling limp against Rhysand’s chest.

“Good girl,” he muttered, stroking a hand down your spine. “Our perfect little Angel.”

Because that’s what you were.

An Angel, captured by the Devil and his demons.

But if this was hell, you never wanted to go back to heaven.

༺♥༻

Tag list: @justdreamstars @minakay @f4iry-bell @godletmebeanf1wag @judig92 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @peaceandcrackers @glitterypirateduck @gorlillaglue25 @the-lake-is-calling @danikamariemain @sousydive @mis-lil-red @hallucynatiing @librafairy @poshestpigeon @sirenaobscura @red-rabbit-13 @elle4404 @strangelycami

[anonabelle]

Red Angel's got a new partner to Prevent Harm with.

I’ve been working on this thing since the start of September and I am SO GLAD it is finally finished! I want to see this team up on screen SO BAD. SENDING ALL MY WISHES TO THE WIND.

(Art process timeline thing under the cut!)

At some point I want to make a gif out of all the process pics I took because there are quite a lot. Below is the condensed version, with all the major steps. The render stage took the most time to do because I really wanted to capture certain aspects of the show’s art direction that I really liked (and it took a lot of experimenting because coloring isn’t usually my favorite step).

concept > sketch > lineart > flats > render (bigger image here)

This thing started off as a mindless procreate sketch (far left) and the thought: “Raph would be so much bigger than Casey in this iteration, huh. That’s cute.”

And yeah, snowballed from there.

I think I’ve drawn Raph several times since, but this is probably the first time I’ve ever tried Cass. I love her. I should (and will) draw her more.

Screenshots I spent a lot of time staring at, especially Raph down there as I was trying to get the “manifesting mystic gauntlets” look right (accidentally lost a bunch of progress on it the other day. it was pain but i powered through :’) ).

I believe the backgrounds are from Hot Soup: The Game, which I had playing in the background at around the time I decided to think about the background for this illo. The Cass screenshot is from Rise, of course, and Raph is from the movie, juuust before he attempts to punch a krang in the face.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for reading and I hope it was... informative? Interesting? Here are my Rise-Raph-and-Casey feelings all wrapped up in a piece of art that I put my soul into. Thanks Rise crew, your work continues to inspire.

[dustorange]

I dont like the “the memory of soandso is bruces favorite the ghost of who x was is bruce favorite” it reads as like hamfisted to me a little and i dont like the favouritism thing bc if Bruce has favorites its definitely not in the sense of “this is my favorite CHILDSON” overtly instead it would be “this is my favorite PERSON on EARTH” but never stated by Bruce himself just mystically in the air (although obviously canonically picked up on and stated by others yadayada saltandpepper evil superman OMAC panels) and parents genuinely do love ALL of their children but the speculation is right in the sense that parents really do still (most of the time) have favorites therefore its ok to speculate and actyally the definitive personal ranking of Bruce’s favoritechild list is Dick, Tim, Cass, and then Damian and Jason are on the same level (loved very very much, just not the favorites) Tim is often subordinated to dick and cass in favouritism talks (part of the larger dialectical effort of like trying to “save face” by ppl who havent read the comics or bg2000 but who want to include her—although obvs there IS stuff there to indicate bruces favor + ofc thé “all i ever wanted” thing would of course touch bruces heart intensely but many of the tumblr posts abt it seem like overcompensating and unfamiliar-with-her-character idk) but subtextually like imagine having a 13yokid literally genuinely save u from the lowest points of absolute despair like an angel and restore you to your like new greatest point and also restore some of your broken deeply important personal relationships (esp w ur estranged eldest) in the process like the level of reverence and awe and adoration u would have for that person is a lot so his love for Tim is charged and perhaps skewed by that so i think Tim (esp 90s tim) is up there bc subtextually bruce owes (as in indebted toward, not reparatively or like owes justice) tim something that he does not owe the others and that kind of patron relationship (u opened up my whole world) is so fundamentally parent-child that Tim gets a bigger stake of bruces heart. But of course the dick story is like the primordial version of that dynamic which is why dick is The favorite

[getmeoutofhell]

My Angel

Cassie Howard x f! reader

summary: cassie had went through yet another heart break. as her friend, you try to comfort her by telling her the hard truth. but without revealing your feelings for her in the process.

warnings: cussing.

music inspo: what once was: by Her’s

“i don’t understand. what do i do wrong?” her tears dropped on the floor as she spoke to you over the phone.

you were always there for her, to listen and to support her. you loved cassie so much and knew a lot about her and her past.

“cass, you don’t deserve someone like him. or anyone like him in that matter. you’re the most sweetest person i’ve ever met. you’re kind, supportive, patient, beautiful, and overall you just have a great personality. i love you. he’s just a piece of shit cass. he didn’t understand what he had.”

her silence took over the phone, causing you to overthink about what you had just said to her.

“you love me?” she asked you. of course you loved her. the first time you saw her you felt a connection with her. now, obviously you wouldn’t tell her that but that’s besides the point.

“of course i love you cassie. you’re my best friend. listen to me cass. you’re gonna have to start putting yourself first, and realize your feelings matter. so when you’re put in a uncomfortable situation, you can say the word no.”

“it’s just…hard y/n/n. why can’t i say no to things i don’t want? i could really use a hug right now.”

“why don’t i head over there hmm? we can watch movies and eat popcorn.” you softly smiled hearing her giggle slightly.

“yeah but my rooms a mess.” you didn’t care about her room being messy, you only wanted to see her. she was a angel on earth to you, a princess. she’d never know how much you loved her. she was worth more than her body, and deserved love and worship.

maybe, just maybe one day, you’ll tell her.

masterlist!

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.5)

What does Jason do after he tries his best and fails spectacularly to keep his nosy family away from his kid? Make sure he is still your favorite when everyone starts spoiling you rotten, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

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

When everything was said and done, Jason explaining why he didn't want to expose you to more dangers by introducing you but also the reason why he felt compelled to be honest with you about their identities, the bats soon started to try and bond with you

Dick was the first one, as always, and introduced himself as "little wing's one and only older brother"

You giggled when Jason groaned at that, embarrassed, and Dick took that as a win

Dick's older bro charms 1 - Bruce's gloomy dad stare 0

After getting called out by you so directly and plainly, Bruce had been awfully quiet as everyone interacted with you

It wasn't every day he got called out for the worst mistakes he comitted

But he also was still reeling at the fact that he was a damn grandfather

Steph cooed at how small you were, pointing out how even Damian was taller

Which, in Jason's opinion, was totally unfair since you were only eleven while Damian was thirteen, going on fourteen, and had been trained for along time

Also, excuse him, only he could tease you

Dick would be asking Jason one and a million questions about how he'd been taking care of you, your education, health, etc

"Of course I– You think I wouldn't send my kid to school, Grayson?"

His kid, they thought, part giddy part dumbfounded

"Woah, woah, I'm just asking! Technically you're legally dead and the little angel over here doesn't exactly look like you."

Wow, for some reason that really pissed Jason off

He tucked you under his chin, squeezing you gently as you rested your head on his collarbone

"I signed the papers. I'm not fucking dumb, Dick, I've been the legal guardian for about a year now."

At that, Steph stopped trying to take pictures of you with her eyes alone and quirked one of her eyebrows

"Legally?"

"... For the most part."

No one said anything at that, it's not like any of them really followed the law, especially not the old man behind them

You huffed in amusement at that, making Dick and Steph's hearts warm up

Damn, not even an hour into meeting you and they were already feeling those fuzzy, soft feelings in their chests

Needless to say, it wasn't a casual evening but it wasn't what Jason had been dreading, not at all

There was no screaming about him being reckless, no one tried to take you away from him, Bruce didn't even say much

Damian was still a brat and tried to pick on you, judgy little shit, only to get the nastiest clapback that made Dick choke on his spit

They all knew he was just feeling jealous, like every kid feels when a younger, cuter child shows up in the family

Boohoo, Jason thought as he watched fondly as you and Damian bickered, the demon brat was never as cute as my kid

Bruce, despite his melancholic gaze and awkward nature, managed to talk a bit to the both of you

He'd tell Jason that if you ever needed anything, to just use his credit card, no questions asked

Bruce would always be a call away and with Cass slowly taking over the mantle, he had a bit more time in his hands when the League didn't need him

He'd support the both of you to hell and back, his own way of repenting, and all he asked in return was...

For Jason to visit more

Because he was still upset about not having all of his kids home for Christmas

And bring you with him

it was high time you met everyone and became an official member of the family, he already knew exactly where your portrait would go

And despite his hesitance, you wanted to be a part of Jason's entire life, not just a hidden piece

Jason could never say no when you did a terrible impression of puppy dog eyes

So this is how it started; the start of the bats spoiling the hell out of you

After a couple of dinners together, lunch, and a tour around the manor and the batcave, seeing all of their old and new suits, ("Tell me you didnt actually wear this." "Shut it, I was a child." "I'm a child and I'd rather die than ever touch this."), with you glued to Jason's side always, packages started showing up at the doorstep

At first it'd be cute and silly things like a plush of the newest Pokémon and matching scarves for the incoming winter

Maybe even their own merch, because they're all losers deep inside

Then it was Bruce taking over any kind of expenses you and Jason had because, in his words, he wanted Jason to focus on raising you instead of worrying about rent

–Not like he wasn't already using Bruce's money to pay for everything

But he still felt begrudgingly soft at having his dad care for him and his kiddo like that, though he'd never admit it–

And then Babs and Tim upgrading the cyber security all around your block in the chance of a villain attack or any creeps following you home

From Duke and Cass asking Jason to spend time with you for some bonding time to your entire wardrobe turning into designer and your school materials updated by Wayne tech

Fuck, you even had terribly expensive yet thoughtful action figurines from your and Damian's favorite animated shows

The brat tried to hate you for ripping everyone's attention away from him, for making Bruce and Dick all... gooey, but it was hard when you had Todd's knowing eyes and a developing charm that always cracked a smile out of him

Infuriating, like father like kid

But... he liked you, quite a lot

And, throughout it all, Jason was panicking bad

Look, Jason Todd was always a jealous person by nature

He never liked his things touched, never liked sharing his interests in case someone also got interested in it, and he was particularly possessive with the few romantic partners he had

So when your attention was suddenly split among all of his family, Jason felt a little upset

It's like when a cat that usually only likes you allows other people pet it

Jason didn't quite feel betrayed but... that childish fear of not being your favorite person was very real in his head

So he upped his game

Whenever any member of his family gave you a gift, he'd get something better the next day

If they took you to a cool place, say an arcade or the mall to hang out and get to know you better

Jason was already booking tickets to go to Universal and taking you out for nightly motorcycle rides

Damian was insisting on watching the new season of your favorite show?

Next weekend he'd have prepared the living room to look like a cinema, with snacks and popcorn, for a movie marathon

Babs and Steph got you interested in makeup?

Regardless of gender identity, you know Jason would watchevery YouTube tutorial known to man about makeup so you won't have to ask the girls about it

Bruce would grow all fond of you once you got past, but did not forgive nor forget, the things he's done to Jason and started interacting more with him

So once he's talking about how he learned multiple different languages growing up, during one of the monthly family dinners, Jason would already be Googling how to learn another language fast

And god forbid Dick messed with your hair

He was not above picking a fight with Nightwing for ruining the hairstyle he spent hours doing for you

Look, Jason wouldn't be as petty as to keep you away from his family

No, in the contrary, he really, really loved watching you be coddled and loved by some of the most powerful people on earth

Getting the childhood he had so desperately wanted

It allowed that restless part of his soul to settle knowing you had them looking out for you, always

But Jason also would always want to be your number one

Your favorite person

Your hero

You dad

Yeah, he could admit it now without fear, he's definitely your old man

How could he not be when he's cutting apples for your school snack and making sure you go to bed before nine?

Never mind his age, Jason even bought a grill so you two could barbecue on the rooftop, there's no other more dad move than that

So, after a few months of this real life sitcom, when you were both on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice (Jason's choice tonight), all cuddled up and cozy

You'd rest your head on his shoulder and sigh happily

"You don't need to do all this, you know?"

"Hm? Do what, kiddo?"

"Trying to one up everyone. It's funny and I'm not exactly opposed to being spoiled as hell–"

"You're such a brat."

"Shut up– but you'll always be my favorite, you know that, dad."

Oh.

Oh.

Ok. Wow. He was tearing up.

"Oh, fuck off, don't do this to me."

His voice would be a little wobbly as he hid his face in your hair, squeezing you gently in his arms

And you'd giggle and hug him tighter too, your face warming up nervously but no longer afraid of muttering that one little word that had been stuck in your throat for so long

You two were so, so similar in that regard, afraid of overstepping despite the bubbling emotions inside you, the overflowing love threatening to spill out

So much faith and trust, devotion, care, and adoration

And all it took was one sentence to make it all better

"I still wanna go to the convention next week, though."

And Jason would laugh, teary and almost breathless, and press a kiss to your forehead, feeling happier than he's ever felt

"Yeah, okay, you nerd."

Wonder who you got it from

That night solidified it for him, calming his anxieties and petty jealousy

Jason would always be your favorite person

And you wouldalways be his favorite little one

Nothing would ever change that

To be continued... for one last time.

[readychilledwine]

Schedule Conflicts

Summary - Azriel shouldn't plan dates when he's tired. Luckily, Lyria finds a solution that makes everyone happy. Game Night.

Warning - just wholesome Fluff, slight mention of smut, Liz's dream of a friendship between Nesta and Rhys forming

Prompt - Day 7 - Free day

A/n - As @polyacotarweek comes to a close *and I post 3 fics for today* I want to make sure to thank @acourtofladydeath and anyone else involved for organizing this week. I personally believe that ending stereotypes involved with "alternative" lifestyles is so important. I genuinely enjoyed this week, and hopefully, we will all get to partake again next year!

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

“Cassian!” Panic hit Azriel the second Lyria was throwing her arms around Cass, smiling wide as she did before immediately leaving him in favor of Nesta.

He checked his calendar again, growing pale as he realized in his exhausted state from his previous mission he had double scheduled a date.

He looked to Cassian who immediately seemed to know and moved over. “We can leave.”

“She's been looking forward to this all week.”

“Rhysand has been looking forward to her all week, too, Az. He has a kid. He needs her, we can-”

“No. Let me talk to her. Lyria, baby, can I fix your dress?” Confused eyes met his before she nodded and followed. He sighed as he shut her bedroom door behind them. “I fucked up.”

Lyria made a face, nodding for him to continue. “I accidentally planned date night for you with Cass and Rhys. Feyre, Nesta, and I were all planning on going to Rita's anyway, but you have Rhys and Cass tonight.”

“Oh. That's not a big deal. Cassian and I were talking about him teaching me poker anyways. A third body would be helpful.”

Azriel felt his brows go up. “Cassian only plays strip poker.”

“I am aware,” the smirk had Azriel smiling at his mate. “Rhys knows he can't touch.”

“He'll watch, though.”

“Feyre won't mind. He goes home to her and it will rile him up for her.”

Azriel smiled softly. “Rhys will mind because he genuinely loves you. He and Feyre would like to change our rules a bit, but are waiting for you."

“Then we should all hang out here.” He watched Lyria walk to a closet he had yet to explore, jaw falling slightly as she opened in. “You said you all like board games, right? I have plenty.”

Plenty was an understatement. Lining the shelves of this closet were games from every court. Trelis from Spring, Mancala from Dawn, Risk from Night. Azriel picked his jaw up as he went to look. “Why have you been hiding all of this?”

“I normally only play with Eris and Lucien.”

Azriel smiled before picking several games they had all been wanting to get a hold of and play a few days ago before kissing his mate. “You are so smart, angel. Let's see if we can compromise.”

Rhysand and Feyre had arrived, luckily dressed casually and were laughing with Nesta and Cassian. Azriel set the board games down on the counter and turned to Rhys. “No more planning dates when I'm half asleep from missions.” 

The High lord was too stunned at the collect to even respond. “Are these all hers?” They all turned to where Lyria had came out, several bottles of alcohol and a wooden box in hand. 

“Who wants to take me to go get snacks?” Rhys and Cassian looked to each other before Rhysand came to her. “Perfect. Ness, you want cake?”

“Always.”

“Cass? Something crunchy?”

“Of course, princess.”

“Feyfey, lots of fruits?”

“Ooooh strawberries if you two can find them!”

She turned to Az, “I won't expose you.”

Rhysand then coughed, “The bakery. We'll just get whatever the bakery has.” Cassian glared as Rhys smirked and smacked Lyria on the ass as they walked out. 

“I get her all night.”

“Excuse me?” Feyre laughed as Nesta glared to Cassian. 

“You three were supposed to go to Ritas.”

Feyre gasped, looking to Nesta and grabbing her hands, “We could still go! Play a couple games and leave Rhys, Lyria, and Cassian alone.” 

Nesta nodded eagerly. “Only if you're okay with sharing Az.”

“Az was made to be shared. Rhys already said he was okay with sharing her with Cass.”

Cassian sighed, “In case Cassian's opinion matters, I also told Rhys I'd love to spend the night with them. It's Lyria and Az. Az feels guilty, and we know how Lyria is.”

Feyre smiled. “Little people pleaser.”

Nesta hummed, “The cutest people pleaser. Can we play that one?” Cassian followed Nesta's deadly finger, laughing as he realized she was pointing at a game called “Wingspan.” 

They began taking the game out of its protective box. Feyre was admiring the artwork, as Nesta read the rules. Cassian began opening and setting up drinks.

Azriel was moving the table, ensuring his mate's home had enough room as Feyre rested her head on his shoulder, pointing at little brush stroke details.

Rhys and Feyre returned moments later, bags in hand and faint blush on the female's cheeks as the High Lord whispered into her ear. 

Lyria has not been expecting the competitive nature of her new circle to come out so heavily during game time. They had switched to partner games, her, Cassian, and Rhys on one team while Azriel sat across from her with Feyre and Nesta. Large hands rested on her thighs, occasionally their pinkies touching as well. 

The arguing in the room soon turned to laughter. Laughter into deep conversation, and before all the couples knew, Lyria's home began to mimic a picture perfect sunrise instead of the Night sky. 

“Holy fuck,” Cassian looked to the window. “How long were Elain and Lucien planning on watching Nyx?”

“All night,” Rhys replied from his spot next to Nesta. The two were in a heavy discussion regarding proper uses of magical objects. “We had planned to stay the night away from home.”

“I enjoyed this,” Feyre leaned against Azriel, eyes half shut.

“My mate did too. She enjoyed it so much she fell asleep on Cassian.” 

They all looked to the mentioned male and where he held the now known Day Court Heiress. She had curled into his lap an hour ago, falling asleep as he whispered to her and wrapped his wings around them to keep her warm. 

“Let's do it again, maybe a once a month thing?” Rhys squeezed Nesta's hand. “I enjoyed spending time with you, Ness.”

“It's the first time we haven't ripped each other's heads off.” Feyre smiled bright as did Cassian. “I think we'll still do that from time to time, though.”

“Absolutely.” Rhysand's face was serious, but his eyes sparkled. “Not in front of our starlight, though. Agreed?” 

Everyone in the room nodded as Cassian went to carry Lyria to her room. Feyre smiled as Rhysand pulled her up from Azriel. “She's so sweet, Azriel. I'm so glad we all get to enjoy her this way.”

“Me too,” the shadowsinger stretched. “Her heart has so much love to give. I'm glad we all can bask in it.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

[crumbledcastle28]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Young God

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Request: “Okay I’m annoying you with these now hehe sorry. But I have another idea/request. You know how in angst Azriel x reader oneshots it’s always the reader who’s in love with Azriel and he’s in a relationship? How about we switch that and make it so Azriel is in love with an unavailable reader?” @aroseinvelaris

Excerpt: “He looked up at you like a boy, a little boy, who had been pushed too far. And yet, at the same time, the Azriel who quickened your heart with only a glance was still there, giving his face and body the look of what you could only describe as a young, bleeding god. Covered in sweat and tears and blood, his hair soaked with the same alloy, he was a fallen angel, begging for mercy.

His eyes said to you make it stop. Please, make it end.

“Az,” you whispered, and he fell into your arms.

Your brain instantly tore you in half. You had never felt so overjoyed and crestfallen in the same moment.”

Warnings: illyrian!reader, jealous!azriel (so yummy), idiots in love, reader has sex with someone else, heavy swearing, kind of toxic reader and az, drinking, mating bond, punching bags, blood, kissing, and our lord of bloodshed and high lord make an appearance.

Word Count: 3.7k 

A/N: I have been sitting on this request forever, and I feel I am finally capable of doing it justice. I hope you enjoy @aroseinvelaris, thank you again for your request.

A/N 2: I’m a lot a little rusty with acotar vernacular and Azriel descriptions. so please be kind. This is also incredibly not canon.

SJM Masterlist 

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)

The last thing you wanted to do in the infamous, disreputable Windhaven War-Camp was drink, but with the presence of its current war lord, you were really fucking tempted to.

You could hear his remarks from a multiple tables away. 

 Training females, a waste of resources if you ask me.

What the fuck else does Rhysand expect of us? To put bitches in our camps? On our front lines?

Rhysand’s dogs wish they could prove what we do to with them after their training.

He was a cocksucking pig, and that was enough of an excuse for you to bring a cup of wine to your lips and practically guzzle it down.

“You hear him too?” said the Lord of Bloodshed to your right, or as you knew him, just Cass.

You nodded, taking another sip despite the sour grapes coating your tongue, and his leathers squeaked as he leaned forward on his chair. He was gripping his own glass like a sailor dangling over a hull.

“Mother help me,” he replied.

“Mother help us all,” you countered, and Cassian chuckled.

“And Rhysand most of all,” he replied, gesturing across the crowded dining area.

Rhys was elbows-deep in documents, going over how exactly Windhaven was functioning under his rule with the other war lords. You didn’t blame him. With Ironcrest continuing to defame him and grip onto their dissent, Rhysand couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

He would never admit that, of course, but after over a century of spying for him, you had your ways of reading him; shoulders tight, back hunched, eyebrows creased, and chin resting on his palm. Yeah, he was a bit stressed out.

If only you could read another Illyrian in the room’s body language so well.

You and Cassian sat and drank for some time, grateful Rhys trusted you to be his backup but simultaneously regretting ever joining him in the first place, before the rest of your backup arrived.

You begged your heart not to quicken. The alcohol was already fucking with your head enough.

Azriel sat in the seat to your left, his distinct musk of cool air, leather, and shadows breezing by you as he did, and poured himself a glass of his own.

“Notice anything?” Cassian asked him as he poured, well aware that your heart was in fact quickening, but Az shook his head.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded as he sipped his drink, leaning back into his chair. His wings and chest widened, giving your peripheral vision the perfect angle of his leathers. Him and Cassian had gone all out - adorned with every dagger, cuirass, pauldron, and gauntlet you could think of, in addition to their shimmering siphons bouncing off every metallic object in the hall. You blended in with them as best as you could.

Except, of course, the fact that you were a female.

Az’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. “I would feel more confident if Y/N did my route over again after dinner is served. Would you be okay with that?” 

You nodded without looking at him, and were surrounded by silence once more.

The three of you continued to keep your eyes open, scanning the room for any sudden movements, suspicious glances, or unnecessary walks towards your High Lord. Your body besieged you to get up and get away from the male beside you. Escape the nervous energy he always seemed to coat you with made especially worse given the fact that you were surrounded and outnumbered by enemies, made your fight-flight-or-freeze response ache with strain.

The alcohol wasn’t helping the feeling at all. You needed something else. Right then and right there to make your heart pound and sweat pour from your pores.

With one glance to your right, you spotted your solution.

“Is that who I think it is?” Cassian asked, following your line of sight, and you grinned.

Ozia. A name perfect for his image in your mind.

Azriel followed your gaze as well, his spine straightening and his eyes squinting, and looked back to you with a look that could only be described as a mix of puzzled and panicked.

The male’s hazel eyes met yours across the hall, and in that moment, you knew exactly where your night was going to end.

The male was tall and chiseled, skin tanned and freckled, and his hair was brown and curly. It hung over his eyes slightly, etching his curved nose and pouted lips perfectly. He was quiet, reserved, but one of the few Ilyrian males you had ever found yourself able to trust. You had met him the last time you had visited Devlon, enforcing Rhysand’s rule of training before chores with an iron fist, and Ozia had backed you up completely. He explained that he had even started taking the females back to his home to teach them proper stretching and breathing techniques, and his support made your trip infinitely easier.

Maybe that was the reason you had ended up in his bed, or maybe it was because of his borderline piercing resemblance to the male on your left. Either way, Cassian had never teased you as relentlessly as he had the day he had found out - you still had no fucking idea how - and with the look in his eye as his gaze bounced between you, Ozia, and Az, he was not going to let this one go either.

Not a morsel of you cared. It was infinitely better than sitting in the want of a male you could never have.

You finished off your wine before standing up, scraping your wooded chair against the floor as you did. Azriel looked up at you and, likely having put the two pieces together, asked, “What about dinner?”

Your excitement to escape him caused you to overlook the venom in his tone.

“I’m not hungry,” you responded, and made your way towards the male you knew, and away from the one you wish you did.

                                                          ~*~

Azriel willed himself to remember a word of what Cassian had said to him from the moment you left to the moment he finally made his escape, but as he trekked up the creaky, circular stairs to his dust-ridden bedroom for the evening, he could not recall a single word.

Not after the look in your eyes as you looked at the male across the room, the grin tracing your teeth as you eyed him, and the way your hips moved as you walked to him. Not after Azriel could not eat more than a few bites of the chicken soup provided for them without becoming queasy at the thought of what that male - Ozia - was doing to you, what you were doing to him. Not after the blow to his heart after waiting for you to walk his route with him, as you had agreed to, and you never showing. 

And especially not now, as he prepared himself for the necessity of passing your room in order to get to his own.

With the alcohol muddling his mind and the exhaustion in his muscles from one of the longest days he had experienced in recent memory, he thought he could pass it by without a second thought. He was in the clear at the top of the steps, throat closing and head pounding, but as he made his way past your door, his hope dissolved like a sugar in tea.

He didn’t hear you, or him, or have any proof that you were together in your room in any way...

... except for the smell of it.

He had never hated anything more..

The smell of you - you - that he had gotten to know so well. Vanilla and green tea with just a hint of rose, a mixture true to who you were at your core, mixed with the smell of someone else. It was sex and sweat and spit and sheets and you so much of you and so much of him.

It was acrid, pungent, and so fucking heart shattering that he had to put his hand to his chest to ensure his heart was still beating.

He wanted to keel over in pain, rip his heart out of his chest, shatter every window in the cabin, and rip you away from him all in the same moment.

But he just kept on walking, ignoring the tether in his chest pulling him back to you more than anything else.

                                                       ~*~

If Azriel thought that night was long, he was not ready for the morning after.

At breakfast, you reeked of him, yet the smile on your face was what burned Azriel to a crisp. As the four of you traveled home, you and Cass snuck glances at each other like two females who knew something Azriel didn’t. When you finally reached the House of Wind, you immediately went up to bed, mumbling something about how you hadn’t managed to get much sleep anyway.

He hadn’t either.

As you headed upstairs, Azriel headed down, vibrating with an energy he could not describe. All he knew was that he wanted it off of him. He needed everything he was feeling inside of him off and away it was cutting him so deeply - 

“Hey,” came a voice, the arm attached to it finding its place on Azriel’s shoulder. He turned, startled to finally feel his body after living solely in his head, and was met with violet.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asked, and Azriel softened a bit from the look of concern in his eyes.

After centuries of having brothers - real brothers - he still wasn’t used to being loved.

“I’m fine,” Azriel replied, and Rhys raised his eyebrows. “Honestly, I am. Just overtired, and sick of Illyrians.”

As if on cue, Cassian walked through the house with a dagger in one hand and an even bigger bottle of liquor in the other, likely headed upstairs to bring said items up to his mate.

He turned to look at his observers as he made his way up, exclaiming proudly, “I picked the dagger out myself.”

Rhys and Az looked at each other after he reached the top, and Rhys chuckled, patting Azriel on the shoulder. “You and me both, brother.”

                                                     ~*~

 Azriel couldn’t remember how many punching bags he’d sent flying across the training room’s floor. He didn’t fucking care.

All he knew was that the feeling inside of him was not stopping.

He had done pushups until he collapsed, a plank until he dropped, crunches until he puked, and now he was punching the bags without any wrapping protecting the skin of his hands. He would take anything else - anything else - in place of this anguish. He could still smell it, couldn’t stop picturing it, and every time his brain seemed to release him from the torture of its vividity, it would snap back in almost instantly like a punch to his stomach.

He’d been hit many times, but nothing that felt like this. It was a feral, dirty, venomous beast inside of him tearing him apart with its nails and teeth. His arms were jelly, his hands were spilling clumps of blood, but it still wasn’t enough. The beast was relentless, beating Azriel no matter what he did.

His chest ached so badly. The thought of you kissing Ozia.

Punch.

Tasting him. 

Punch. 

Feeling him.

Punch.

Laughing with him.

Punch.

Smiling at him. Enough to crinkle your irises. While Azriel waited for you.

Punch.

And possibly even loving him.

A punch, a crack, and a scream echoed through the chamber, and Azriel smiled with victory as his body finally gave out on him.

                                                          ~*~

You woke covered in sweat, an unidentifiable scream echoing through your mind like a stone in an empty cave, and a searing pain etching its way down your right hand. Tears coated your eyes as you sat up, hissing as the throbbing made it down to your fingertips.

The scream continued to reverberate all the while.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand laying limp by your side. You felt stupid for crying. You had broken your hand before.

But your hand wasn’t broken.

You attempted to wiggle it around, flexing your fingers and widening your grip, and the pain slowly faded to a dull ache. You wiped your eyes as you pushed down onto the mattress with it, attempting to gauge how harsh the pain was engrained your bones.

The searing sensation returned.

“Fuck,” you whispered again, and scooted off the bed and onto your feet. The sun had begun to rise outside your window, illuminating you with gold as you walked into the hall and down to the kitchen. 

Your mind muddled with pain and sleep so harshly that you relied on your body to navigate for you, allowing it to think for you. You didn’t even know why you were going to the kitchen. You just needed to move the rest of your body to distract you from your hanging hand.

As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized that, instead of the kitchen, your body had begun to take you down further. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” you questioned, but still walked down, down, down.

Maybe your body was telling you that some training would do you good. Maybe your hand was just stiff and sore, and needed renewed blood flow. You had been skipping out on your morning routine due to your guard duty. Maybe your body was itching for it back.

You yawned, whispering, “Whatever.”

You began rolling your shoulders as your feet hit the ground, warming up your back and neck. You rubbed your eyes one last time with your left hand, allowing your still aching right one to remain hanging at your side, while simultaneously becoming overwhelmed with the scent of sweat, rubber, and blood. For a second, you smiled, content with the feeling of walking into a space you knew so well - that knew you so well. You were excited, your adrenal gland suddenly pumping you with adrenaline and dopamine.

You were home.

That euphoric pairing was suddenly doused with cortisol as you turned towards the punching bags, only to be met with nearly a dozen lying flat, and a mass of dark wings kneeling on the hard ground.

A mass of dark wings that you could recognize with only the sound of them.

“Azriel,” you whispered, watching as he breathed heavily, clutching his bleeding hand. He was surrounded by small sprays of crimson blood and clear sweat, painting the floor a muted color. His expression was...pained, haunted.

It was his right hand he was clutching.

“Azriel,” you said again, a bit louder that time, and picked up your stride. He hinted at no recognition.

Your own pained hand was long forgotten.

You reached him quickly, kneeling down beside him and touching his shoulders gently. You turned him to look at you, tempted to finally understand the exact feeling of his face slightly stubbled, but his head remained low.

“Azriel, what the fu -” you began, but were unable to form another syllable when his golden eyes connected with yours.

He looked up at you like a boy, a little boy, who had been pushed too far. And yet, at the same time, the Azriel who quickened your heart with only a glance was still there, giving his face and body the look of what you could only describe as a young, bleeding god. Covered in sweat and tears and blood, his hair soaked with the same alloy, he was a fallen angel, begging for mercy.

His eyes said to you make it stop. Please, make it end.

“Az,” you whispered, and he fell into your arms.

Your brain instantly tore you in half. You had never felt so overjoyed and crestfallen in the same moment.

His face was pressed against your collarbone as he began to weep, and his arms wrapped around your waist. He was timid at first, waiting for you to push him away, but you didn’t. Your body molded him to you, pressing him against you and holding him like glass. He was shaking, sweating, and bleeding all over you, enough that blood dripping from his mouth had begun to soak through your shirt. You closed your eyes and held him impossibly closer, and brought your still throbbing hand up to the back of his neck.

Every part of his body that you could feel was warm - too warm.

“Azriel,” you whispered, your voice suddenly cracking at the effort to speak, “what happened?”

He said nothing.

“Why are you down here, Azriel?” you asked, beginning to rub your fingers along the top of his spine. “Tell me why.”

He inhaled shakily, his hot breath mixing with the heat of his blood still staining you, and tried to speak. Nothing escaped besides another quiet sob.

This Spymaster, Illyrian warrior, the strongest there had ever been, was shattering in your arms.

“Please just tell me,” you whispered again. It was your own way of begging him to get up again, be the male who never cracked, never crumbled. He was a rock - he was always a rock - and seeing him like this was scaring the living shit out of you.

He had to have caught on, because after a few shaky breaths, he whispered quietly enough for only you to hear. “Because I can still smell him on you.”

Your eyes widened, and a copper taste coated your tongue.

“You...” you whimpered, “you smell him?”

Suddenly Azriel pushed himself off you and looked at you with something other than pain and hurt.

It was...you didn’t know what it was.

“Yes,” he replied, his bloodied, broken hand trembling, “that’s all I can fucking smell and see. I can’t stop it. No matter what I do, I can’t stop it.”

You recalled Rhysand’s words from the past, about Feyre.

When I would feel her on Tamlin, he said, it was all I could see. I couldn’t stop it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Azriel continued, “my chest...it hurts.”

It was all in my chest, Rhysand had said, the pain was, at least, The rest was somewhere deeper, like it was engrained in me. The wrongness of it was inside of me.

“It’s inside of me, Y/N.” Azriel’s mouth was dripping blood now, adding to the mural he had painted on the floor, “I don’t...your hand?”

You looked down at your limp one, and back up at him.

“You...you felt it?” he asked, referring to the shattering of his own bones.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks, but from something other than pain. Your voice was breathy and perfumed with triumph as you traced the pattern in both Az and Rhys’s words. “Yes.”

Azriel’s defeated eyes suddenly lit with curiosity. “How...how is that possi -” 

“The pain’s right here, isn’t it?” you interrupted him, putting your left hand on the area right beneath your breasts. “Right here?”

You moved your hand to the same area on his chest, and he nodded. 

“It burns, doesn’t it?”

“Everywhere,” he agreed.

You nodded. “It’s deep, like in your bones it feels -”

“- wrong.” He completed your sentence for you.

You smiled, big enough to wrinkle your irises, and kissed him.

He was bloody and hot, but you kissed him anyway, hard enough for drops of it to begin to drip down your lips as well.

You pulled away and took his injured hand in yours. “Why do you think I was with Ozia in the first place?”

Azriel’s voice was quiet and unsure. “I... I don’t know.”

“Because he was as close to you as I could get,” you said with a chuckle. “I thought, after a century, there was no hope. That the Cauldron destined you for someone else. I figured, if I couldn’t have you, I would drown the grief in someone who I could pretend was you.”

His eyes widened, and he licked his bloodied lips before asking, “Did it work?”

You chuckled back and kissed his cheek. “Not even close.”

With your lips still buzzing, he pulled you in for another kiss, and finally - finally - the cracks in your chest bloomed into a bond. It was soothing, spreading itself over all the wounds that remained open from a century of festering, and replaced them with a garden of roses. The feeling stretched itself around your body, wrapping you in a cocoon of solace. You had been carrying the ache of an untethered line in your body, and it had finally found its dock.

He kissed you softly, holding back enough to prove to you of his uncertainty, before you pulled away and mumbled, “I feel it too.”

He swallowed and smiled, enough to crinkle the skin around his eyes and accentuate his dimples. With his blood still dripping from both of your mouths, he said with full confidence, “You’re my mate.”

You wiped the blood from his chin and brushed back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead as you replied, “And you are mine.”

With eyes only filled with love, Azriel said, “So that’s why I wanted to tear his jaw off.”

You smiled and pressed your foreheads together, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. Your shattered hands were placed on top of each other on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said to him. “I thought the pain I felt was merely jealousy, and I was with Ozia to escape from it. If I knew you were experiencing it too, or if I was honest from the beginning, you never would have gotten hurt.”

You leaned back to look him in the eye as you said, “I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I left you to do the route alone. I am sorry for all of it.”

He only smiled. “I had every opportunity to be honest too, and I didn’t take it. This isn’t your fault.’

You nodded, but he kissed you again. “This isn’t your fault.”

 You kissed him back, showing him you believed him through your tongue and teeth.

You had dreamed of this moment, internalized every spat of poetry Rhysand and Cassian had iterated about the feeling of it, but nothing could have prepared you to know the feeling of being honestly, rawfully, and purely loved.

 Taglist (if you’d like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi  @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculpture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz​ @thatonespriteobsessedbitch​ @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ 

[sxfterhearts]

neighbourly visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by recent events, childhood-neighbours!au

♡ word count: 2,422 words

♡ author’s note: ah choi jiung i wish you only good things. >_< i hope you get better soon and no longer feel any pain... i'm sure it was hard for you to stop activities, but i hope you take the time to rest and relax!!! i have not known you for long, but i want to know you for a long time ♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!

♡ sequel: backstage visits

//

“Hey stranger,” You called out from behind the sliding door that was left ajar, your head peeking through the gap to peer inside the hospital room.

“Hey yourself.” Jiung replied with a light chuckle.

You walked in. Walls covered in flowery 90’s wallpaper greeted you warmly, along with a mounted television playing news silently in the background, a small sofa and coffee table set in the corner and a large window with views of skyscrapers dotted along the side of the Han River. And of course, a single hospital bed with your ex-neighbour-turned-idol lying right on top of it.

“It’s a nice room.” You commented, curious eyes scanning your surroundings.

He scoffed. “Yeah, except now there’s a stain at the bottom of the walls from yesterday.” Jiung admitted sheepishly, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

“Ah…” You trailed off, setting down the two plastic bags you brought with you on his overbed table. “From when you flooded the bathroom?” You questioned, gentle and careful, nose scrunching up adorably.

“Don’t remind me…” He looked away. “I was so embarrassed! Oh my goodness… The head nurse laughed right in my face! I mean, it sounds like she thought it was funny, but I felt so bad.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, plus, who doesn’t like Krispy Kreme donuts?” “I hope so…”

“Anyways, I brought the goods, like you asked.” Your eyebrows cocked towards the bags, while you dragged a fold-up chair closer to his bedside.

Jiung’s eyes lit up at the mention of this. “You did?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” You laughed, fingers moving to unpack the food. “Half and half wings, gold king and bburinkle flavoured, one pack of bburinkle cheese balls, and a large tteokbokki.” As you announced the order, you brought out the takeaway boxes one by one – soy sauce, sweet honey and garlic flavoured, then cheese powder flavoured wings; the mozzarella cheese balls that you both enjoyed and the large container filled with spicy rice cakes. “Oh, and Cass beer!”

“Y/N…” Jiung uttered, his mouth quickly salivating at the mention of his favourite meal: chicken and beer. “Are you an angel?”

You laughed out loud, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. You turned around, heading to the adjoined bathroom, hoping to hide your flustered expression. Too late, though, Jiung thought that shade of pink looked the cutest on you. “I think you’re just hallucinating from all the drugs they’ve put you under.” You replied. 

“I have been dreaming about this meal since I got admitted last week. You’re really saving my life, neighbour.” Jiung breathed out, still amazed at the generous spread of food. 

As you walked out, you saw Jiung swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “Woah, hold on soldier, where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “To wash my hands.”

“No need for that. Sit down and rest – doctor’s orders, remember?” You reached into your handbag and pulled out a hand sanitiser, passing it over to him. “Use this instead. Plus, it’s BHC. They’re professionals. There’s gloves.”

At that, Jiung rolled his eyes at you. “I’m fine,” He drawled out, yet accepting your offer and sanitising his hands. “It’s not like I’m severely injured or anything.”

You gave him a pointed look, fully sceptical. “Right.” 

“I’m serious!”

“A ruptured thigh muscle, Jiung. You ruptured your thigh muscle.” You deadpanned, your motherly instincts firing up. “That’s a big deal! Just sit down and eat your chicken, okay?”

“Fine…” He grumbled, pouting as he pulled on his gloves. 

“So, how are you feeling about it?”

“About the leg? It’s fine. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Jiung paused to take a bite of the cheese ball, eyes closing in pure bliss as he did so. “So good. This always hits.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, reaching for a can of beer and opening it for him. “You know what I mean…”

He accepted it, taking a big gulp as he thought through his response. “It’s… fine.” Jiung looked down, suddenly taking a lot of interest in the box of fried chicken in front of him.

“Are you really okay? You were preparing for such a long time. Your mum even told me that you were practising non-stop, even on Seollal, and most of Christmas through to New Years. She said she could only send you banchan this year and was really sad about not seeing you back home.”

“Hey,” He looked up. “Are you here to visit your sick neighbour or to guilt trip him for not visiting his family?” Jiung said before biting into a bburinkle flavoured wing.

“Firstly, ex-neighbour. You moved out years and years ago. Secondly, I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, why do you care if you’re just my ex-neighbour?” Jiung countered in a quiet voice.

“That’s not what I - ” You stopped, sighing. “Okay, we both know you’re not just my ex-neighbour.”

“What am I then?” He looked you straight  in the eye.

The two of you engaged in a tense staring contest before the eye contact and the intensity behind his lids freaked you out. “My… My friend, okay? Geez, that’s not the point. Stop deflecting, Choi Jiung. I’ve known you for over a decade and you’re still the same. Always trying to avoid talking about your feelings.” You huffed, passing a pair of chopsticks to him and sliding over the container of tteokbokki. 

Jiung nodded his thanks, accepting the cutlery and digging in.

Silence ensued as the words hung over the pair of you. You ate quietly while Jiung slurped up his rice cakes like a starved man. He set down his chopsticks once he took a big bite, sighing. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m not okay.”

“See! Jiung, you have to talk about your feelings.” You stopped, hands coming up to make vague gestures in the air to emphasise your point. “It’s important! You can’t just keep everything inside. Like,” You picked up a can of unopened beer. “Like this. If you keep it bottled inside and shake it too much, it’ll explode completely and make a mess. Please, just talk to me about it. How are you feeling, Choi Jiung?”

He grimaced internally at the use of his full name, the name his mother would use whenever she got mad at him. “Yeah, I’m not okay. I’m so not okay, Y/N.” He sighed again. At this point, you grew slightly concerned that he would then hurt his nostrils from heavy sighing. You shook the silly thought away to focus. “I’m not okay, because, you know what, yeah. You’re right. We have been practising for so long, and so hard. And I was so excited, and had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to do my solo, and what lyrics would go well for the song, and how to set up the stages, and what outfits would go together, and, and…” He took a deep breath to calm himself. Jiung could feel his eyes heat up and the corner of his lids prickling, tears beginning to gather slowly but surely. “And for all that to be taken away from me, it just feels so, so unfair.” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable, your heart cracked a little bit for him. A stray tear escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Immediately, you use the ends of your sleeves to dab away at his tears. Nodding, you encouraged him to go on.

“And… And I really wanted to visit Japan. Shota was gonna bring us to all these places, we were gonna have dinner with his family, and I was really looking forward to being back in America. I really wanted to walk around LA again, and see the huge trees, and…” Jiung paused again, trying to compose himself. “And I’m just really sad I can’t see the fans. I feel so bad, like I let them down, and I know that for some of them this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing to see us and I let them down and - ”

You didn’t allow him to continue - you simply stood up from your seat and sat next to him on the bed, enveloping him in a hug. “And that’s enough, I’m not gonna let you continue talking down to yourself like that.” You said in a hushed voice. You weren’t too sure why you were whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Jiung shut up promptly, closing his wet eyes, and burying his face in your sweater. He breathed in your scent, a mixture of your fabric softener and jasmine, and felt at ease. He was transported back to simpler times - growing up in a high-rise apartment in the outskirts of Seoul, catching cicadas by the stream next to your house, and running around the parks until the sun went down.

You stayed like this for awhile, and it was like time stopped for you. You could barely breathe from how close you were to Jiung, someone you had admired for a long time now - initially from up close, close enough to count the eyelashes on his pretty face. And now from afar, through a screen. Initially, you wrapped him in a hug to stop him from talking about how he let his fans down, but now, you were just enjoying his warmth. Jiung hugged you back tighter, and you could feel the ends of his orange hair tickling your neck.

It was Jiung who broke the silence. “You feel the same - smell the same, even.” He mumbled, lips too close to your skin for you to maintain a healthy heartbeat.

“Yeah, well…” You hated yourself for pulling away, but you had to do it to check up on him; make sure he was okay.  “Moving out to the big city made me crave familiarity. So I had to ask Mum to send me a picture of the softener she used for our clothes when we were growing up.”

Jiung smiled at that. “That’s nice.”  He liked the idea of you calling your mum about something as simple as laundry. Often, he felt like his calls back home were the opposite of mundane - his mother would ask him where he was flying to that weekend; he would reply with the destination and tell her that he was working on a few new songs. She would tell him to eat well and not sleep too late; he would reply in the affirmative, hiding the fact that most of the time they were recording in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed like you were worlds apart. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel more than grateful to have a friend like you in his life to keep him grounded. Someone from his previous life, as a child, before he was P1Harmony’s Jiung - when he was just himself, just plain old Choi Jiung. A boy from Anyang. A boy with big dreams. Just a regular boy.

“Also, I’m sure your fans understand. And they’d want you to rest! Trust me,” You paused, “Everyone on SNS has been commenting to wish you a speedy recovery but also saying that this is a great opportunity for you to get some well-deserved rest. You guys never seem to rest these days. A comeback and a tour? You must’ve been so busy..”

Jiung laughed, amused. “You read the fan comments?”

“What? Of course! Why are you surprised?”

“Wow…” Jiung replied. “You know, we kinda lost contact when we were in high school but when you reached out again a few years ago I really did think it was because you suddenly missed me. Now I know why…”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you reach out because you were a fan? I always believed your story - I thought it really was because you bumped into my mum back in Anyang and she passed you my new number.”

“I mean…” You fumbled. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “That happened! I swear!”

“But…?”

“No buts! That is definitely what happened.”

“Right… So who’s your P1Harmony bias? Tell me.” Jiung teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He passed you the beer, urging you to drink. “Drink up and tell me. Don’t worry, I can set you up with them. Just tell me.”

You took a huge gulp as you whacked him on the arm.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“You deserved it.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” Jiung still wouldn’t let it go. 

“You don’t need to know.” The tips of your ears were warming up now. You distracted yourself by munching on some wings, hoping he would just drop the topic already.

“C’mon, I deserve to know, at least.”

Just then, your phone, which was on top of the table, lit up with a Kakao notification. Your eyes widened in alarm, suddenly remembering that you had just recently changed your wallpaper to a (very cute) photo of Jiung from their most recent music video. With your clean hand, you reached over to grab it before Jiung could see it.

But alas, you were too slow. “Oh…” Jiung mused, getting all cocky. “I get it now.”

“What do you get? There’s nothing to get.” You forced out a laugh, flipping your phone the other way and burying it under your seat.

“Y/N…” Jiung drawled out the syllabus of your name in a teasing yet slightly dangerous way, as if he had an evil master plan. “Tell me something, and be honest.”

“Nope, I refuse.” You said, shaking your head vigorously.

“Do you like me?”

You continued shaking your head no and chewing in silence.

“Be honest, I’m not gonna judge you. Am I your bias?”

“Shut up, I refuse to answer.”

“Ah, so I am right.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You didn’t have to say it, Y/N. I can tell… Just admit it. You like me.”

“No! This is so embarrassing…”

//

{ epilogue }

The nurses filling out their charts at the station giggled and gossiped over their dinners. 

“So, what do you think is gonna happen?”

“Gosh, watching them is so frustrating. Like, just confess already!”

“I know right! I almost want to do something about it. Like slip them a note or push them into each other or something.”

“Ah, the beauty of young love…”

[batfam-my-beloved]

My favorite, favorite, favorite, headcannon is the Wayne family visiting Metropolis, specifically to any of Lex Luthor's fancy rich people events. And the bat kids all being well behaved and polite in front of people but as soon as they're out of public view CHAOS, MENACES TO SOCIETY!! And the only one to ever see any of this is Lex himself but NOBODY believes him 🤣🤣🤣

Of course Bruce knows. Like obviously they're his kids. But there is just something sooo satisfying in seeing Lex slowly go insane as he desperately tries to prove Cass dumped a whole plate of shrimp cocktails onto his lap, or that Dick was now swinging on top of the chandelier again, or that Damien had snuck an animal into the party, or that Steph was trying to stuff the entirety of the dessert table into her purse.

No, no...instead Brucie does what he does best; he plays dumb 😈

Bruce, having full well witnessed his children cause all the chaos: My children did this, you say? My precious angels? 🥺💕 My darling babies that can do no wrong? 🥺💕 That's absurd Lexie! 😤 Absolute nonsense! 😤 How could you accuse my perfect little darlings of such horrible, rude things? 😡 I guess WE will be taking our funding and resources elsewhere if you're just going to keep making these false accusations! 😤😡😤😡

[withacapitalp]

Happy birthday Cass!!! I don't know if you remember this, but this was the first thing I wrote that started our friendship so I wrote a little add on as a birthday present and I hope you like it <3 @henderdads

Eddie noticed everything.

Eddie noticed the exact shade of brown that Steve’s eyes turned when the sunlight hits his face. He noticed that Steve cut Dustin’s sandwiches into triangles, El’s into rectangles, and always took the crusts off of Mike’s. He noticed that Steve stuck money in Wayne’s wallet when he knew that Wayne is dead asleep in his easy chair. Never enough for Wayne to catch on, just enough that Wayne could always afford a new pack of smokes if he wanted.

So of course Eddie noticed Steve's…thing about numbers.

The first time was with the shoes. Steve always seemed like a bit of a neat freak, but he had this especially weird thing about always making sure everyone’s shoes were lined up in perfect order.

The next thing was the steps while they were walking. It was like his boyfriend would purposefully miss the doorway, walk a few steps farther just so he could turn around and walk in on the right number.

But the rings….it’s the thing with the rings that makes Eddie confront him.

When he came home that night and found Steve shaking in a ball on the floor, Eddie had just held him, and then he had done his best to try and let them move past it. Steve would pick his rings in the morning, and Eddie would be content to just let Steve have his quirks. That would work.

But the curiosity continued to grow as the coincidences continued to mount and before too long Eddie couldn’t ignore it any more.

“So what’s special about seven?” Eddie asked as Steve slid the last ring off for the day. It was a thick black one with angel wings on one side and demon wings on the other. It was Steve’s favorite.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said with far too much casualness, keeping his eyes firmly on their joined fingers.

“Baby,” Eddie said softly, leaning in close and touching their foreheads, “You don’t have to tell me, but please don’t lie,”

“Nothing,” Steve finally whispered, pulling back, “There’s nothing.

God, Eddie loved Steve with all his heart, but sometimes it really was just like pulling teeth.

“Stevie-”

“I’m not lying,” Steve said, quickly cutting Eddie off. He was starting to tap again, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his thigh in that oh so familiar pattern, “There’s nothing special about the number seven. Nothing important,”

“But?” Eddie prompted when Steve trailed off. His boyfriend oepneed and closed his mouth a few time

“But I can’t stop counting to it,” Steve blurted out in a rush, turning away from Eddie and burying his face in his hands

“To seven,” Eddie clarified, still unable to understand.

“Seven kids, Seven adults, my birthday is July 7th.” Steve said, muffled but clearly filled with shame, “I can't stop looking for sevens, because if I stop, then someone will get hurt, and it'll be my fault,”

Eddie's breath left his lungs, making the room feel too small. He knew Steve had a thing about sevens but this…this was beyond anything he could have thought of.

He must have been doing a pretty terrible job of hiding the horror on his face, because the second Steve looked up he huffed out a bitter little laugh and wrapped his arms tight around his middle.

“I know that makes me crazy, okay? I know that. I know that I'm crazy, I know that it means nothing. I know, I know, I know,” Steve said, growing more and more frantic with every word. Eddie crawled to the edge of the bed next to him, putting an arm around Steve's shoulder and holding him tight.

“But I can't stop, Eddie. I can't stop, I can't stop,” Steve admitted in a broken whisper, falling into his arms and breaking down in a very uncharacteristic, very terrifying way.

“I can't stop because if I do you'll get jumped at the school, and Robin will get in a car accident, and the gate is gonna reopen, and the kids are gonna die and, and- I can't stop. I can't stop. I can't stop.”

Steve continued to mutter into Eddie's shoulder as he fell apart. Over and over, until he cried himself to sleep.

He couldn't stop. Which meant Steve had tried to.

Which meant Steve wanted to.

The word finally hit him as Eddie tucked the blanket around Steve and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead, lying down next to him and holding him close. It really was the perfect word for the situation, but the word that created a host of other complications. Still Eddie couldn't make it leave his head as he laid awake the entire night.

Not a habit. Not an addiction.

It was a compulsion.

[ummmlife]

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami Boyfriend

part 2

warnings! : nanami x afab reader ; slight nsfw (still mdni) ; angst (?) ; headcanon ; salaryman!nanami ; if none of this makes sense (spelling and grammatically speaking) i'm sorry but my first language isn't english (lol)

What comes to my mind thinking about Salaryman!Nanami is: misery.

This man lives miserably in a constant depressive state that he isn't even aware of. He lives in a monotone routine that consists of: waking up at 5 a. m., getting ready for work, take the subway when is rush hour, getting at the office at 6:37 and start working at 7 o'clock for 8+ hours, have a casse-croûte for lunch, then leave the office at 1 a. m., get back home for a shower and sleep. Then repeat this over and over again.

The ambience of the city full of other corporative slaves just like him filling every single space of negative energy ends up draining him as well. An endless cycle of stress and tiredness that keeps, slowly but surely, consuming him.

That's how the life of a salaryman is.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami will always come back home extremely tired, wanting nothing but a glass of whiskey and a migraine pill.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami would try to pretend that everything is fine when he gets paid every month, just to then feel a knot in his throat after paying every bill.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who feels helpless every time he finds you completely asleep on the couch after a failed attempt to try to stay awake to wait for him to get home.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami will do his best to spend more time with you but that only happens twice a month because he craves to sleep on his free days.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who could get sick very often due to overworking himself and, basically, venerates you for taking care of him.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who cries himself to sleep silently every night when he's in bed with you while you're sleeping because he feels that he's losing his life in a job that is taking away his best years.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who hates himself for not having enough time for you as he had before and fears that he's ruining your relationship.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami whose libido is lower than 0 and has no energy to even have sex anymore, but begs you to cockwarm him to sleep, because the warm of your pussy hugging his dick brings him comfort. He doesn't just want to cuddle with you, he doesn't just want to hug you, he wants to feel as close as possible.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who will cum immediately once his dick is deep inside of you because, honestly, he can't last a minute with you anymore. Of course, he won't pull out, so get ready to sleep with his thick cum filling your womb and wake up with his flaccid dick still inside while his little "gift" from last night keeps leaking from your inside.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami will shyly ask you to let him sleep with his head on your chest to squeeze your tits and suck your nipples for stress relief.

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami who ends up collapsing in front of you like a little kid and who you end up convincing to leave his job.

After watching your boyfriend have a mental breakdown, which you never thought possible, you had him lean over you on the couch while he calmed down a bit and stopped crying. —"I really don't know what would be of me without you... you are an angel in my life, thank you."

Miserable Salaryman!Nanami that just quit his job and took part of his savings to go on a trip with you to Malaysia, so he can finally rest in peace next to you on a nice beach with no more worries in his life.

shitty concept and shitty headcanons, yes, but i really like miserable (big) men craving comfort from their partners :) that's all ‹𝟹

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Caroline Schaeffer [Chimera Gals @blairaptor]

Part human and part American cockroach, Caroline is a genetically-modified reality-tv athlete who performs stunts and obstacle courses for a living. Just as you’d expect, she is a bit of gremlin. Caroline’s roach DNA makes her super fast and resilient, but she is cowardly and attention-seeking. She loves video games and instant foods. Her three human/animal athlete co-workers are her ‘sisters’, but she also has a soft spot for their gameshow’s completely human MC.

Cassidia Reynolds [Shades of War @evelynmlewis]

Cass is (initially) a 17 year old girl who has been homeschooled and lives in the countryside on a farm. All her life she went out to the forest and there she met her friends the Sylphs who are actually faelike angelic spirits of the forest that live in the trees and take the forms of various types of animals. One day Cass has a vision prophesying the fall of Telel, and when this happens the Sylphs show her that she must help save Telel by finding a powerful magic weapon called the Heart. Cass runs away from home after being dismissed by her parents and laughed off by the army. That is only the beginning of Cass's story; she is very immature at first. She later gets a boyfriend, and puts the fate of the world in jeopardy trying to protect him. After this her relationship with the Sylphs is strained when they tell her that she needs to break up with him in order to fulfill her destiny and ultimate fate to save the planet and restore the power of the Heart. This leads her to pursuing her destiny in her own way, (basically in rebellion to God) and she ends up becoming an unreliable prophetess out of fear of losing her boyfriend, and mucking some things up by the middle of book 2.

[storiesforallfandoms]

strange human feelings ~ castiel;supernatural

word count: 2578

request?: yes!

@dont-mind-me-bruh1 “hey! i was wondering if you could make a story of cass getting jealous of dean because he knows dean as know y/n longer then him and cass and y/n finds out and shows cass that he is the only one for her by letting him do what ever he wants with her. if that’s ok it could be a smut or it could be a romantic gesture but if it was smut could you make it a little kinky i know it’s a lot to ask but take it into consideration please.”

description: in which the angel starts to feel human emotions, the main one being jealousy

pairing: castiel x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

One would think that all of Castiel’s time spent with the Winchester brothers on Earth would’ve led to some form of learning about humans and their nature, but one thinking that would be very wrong. There was a lot of things about humans that still confused Castiel. Currently, his biggest confusion was human emotions. Namely, the fact that he was starting to feel human emotions for one of the Winchester’s friends, (Y/N).

He met her when Dean was wounded after a particularly hard battle. Sam had told Castiel that a friend of his and Dean’s lived in the area and he wanted to bring Dean there so she could help to treat the wounds from the supernatural being the three had been fighting. She was a hunter once, Sam had said, she knew how to deal with this type of stuff.

When she answered the door, Castiel felt a warming feeling inside of him. He didn’t understand what it was, but he was too concerned about Dean to really think about it. Once Dean had been healed and they were taking some time to rest after the fight, Castiel realized that the feeling was still there. Every time he was in (Y/N)’s presence the feeling would grow stronger. At first, he thought (Y/N) wasn’t who the guys thought she was. That maybe she was some mythical being pretending to be human to get close to the infamous hunters.

Sam, noticing that something was off with Castiel, asked, “What’s up?”

“I feel...off,” he responed.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Off? Off how?”

“I don’t know. I feel this warming sensation in my chest.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, of course not. I don’t feel pain, Sam. It’s just...it’s warm. Whenever (Y/N) is in the room I feel it.” He looked to make sure (Y/N) wasn’t within earshot before leaning forward to Sam and whispering, “I think there’s something about her making this happen.”

Sam had a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, buddy, you don’t know how right you are to think that.”

Castiel took this to mean something bad, until the next day when Sam told a recovered Dean, and Dean let out a whooping laugh at the poor angel’s expense.

“How sweet. Our angel is in love, Sammy,” Dean said.

Being in any sort of romantic relationship with humans was forbidden for angels. That was how archangels like Gabriel were created, and neither heaven nor the mortal world needed more Gabriels. So, despite the warm feeling being consistent in his chest whenever (Y/N) was even mentioned, Castiel could not pursue this feeling. He would not break one of the angel’s most absolute rules. No matter how beautiful (Y/N) was; no matter how much he yearned for her company when she wasn’t around; no matter how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her whenever she was near.

Which, she was always near, because after she helped patch Dean back up, the Winchester brothers managed to convince her to join them on their next hunt.

“I gave up that life, Dean. I’m not going back to it,” she had insisted when it was first brought up. “I have a normal life here now.”

“You never liked normal,” Dean pointed out. “One hunt, (Y/N), that’s all we’re asking. You were the best hunter I have ever known. Dad and Bobby included.”

A small smile had tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. “That’s high praise.”

When she agreed, she said it would only be the one hunt. Nothing more.

And then one hunt became two, and two became four, and four became ten. And, before any of them knew it, she was part of Team Free Will. With her joining the team, Castiel came to learn a new human emotion: jealousy.

It started when (Y/N) and Deana returned to the bunker one night. They were both clearly intoxicated, giggling and staggering down the stairs. Castiel was the only one there, so their appearance surprised him a bit.

“Where are you two coming from?” he asked.

“We decided to go out for a couple drinks,” (Y/N) responded. “Talked about the good old days before being hunters was the only thing we knew.”

She looked at Dean and smiled before leaving to go to her room. The exchanged look caused a new feeling to grow, except this time it was in his stomach. It was a heavy feeling, almost like he swallowed a sizeable stone. When he looked at Dean, a feeling of distain rose within him. He wanted to zap Dean to the other side of the planet and hope he would never return. Maybe even take his soul back to Hell and leave it there.

He was shocked by the nastiness of his thoughts. Dean must’ve noticed Castiel’s mood change because he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Castiel shook his head. “Nothing. Uh...nothing.”

Dean didn’t believe him, but he let it go for the time being.

It wasn’t until week later that Dean finally decided to confront Castiel about it. “Okay, Cas, what’s the matter with you?”

Castiel wouldn’t look at Dean. That’s how it had been for weeks. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as Dean most of the time. It wasn’t hard for Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) to notice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re acting like I don’t exist for weeks. I don’t know what I did, but I’m not going to apologize until you tell me.”

Castiel shook his head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

Castiel finally turned to look at Dean. Since it was just him and not him and (Y/N), the feeling in his stomach wasn’t there and there were no nasty thoughts on his mind. It concerned him even more. He was still convinced that (Y/N) was something bad and that’s why she made him feel this way.

“When you and (Y/N) are together, I get this bad feeling,” he told Dean.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of bad feeling?”

“I get a heavy feeling in my stomach, and I think these bad thoughts about wanting to get rid of you.” He looked at Dean very seriously as he added, “I think she’s bad.”

Dean tried to bite back a laugh but ended up chortling anyways. “Cas, (Y/N) is not bad. What you feel is jealousy.”

“What is jealousy?”

“It’s the bad feeling you get when the person you love seems to be romantically interested in someone else. Most times, it makes you hate the other person, even if that person if your friend. But, Cas, you gotta know that (Y/N) and I are just friends.”

“You seem very friendly,” Castiel said. Even he was shocked by the venom in his tone.

Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas, I assure you there is nothing between me and (Y/N). I’ve known her since we were barley legal. We’re old hunting pals who haven’t seen each other in over a decade. We’re reconnecting, we are not dating.”

Castiel sighed and sat down at the table. “But what if she wants to date you? You’ve known her for longer than I have. You know her in general. I haven’t even been able to get to know her and she’s been travelling with us for months. What if she doesn’t want to be with me?”

“What if you asked her yourself?”

Both men turned to see (Y/N) stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and a not so happy look on her face. Castiel jumped to his feet, although he wasn’t sure what to say to her.

She started approaching the two as she continued to talk, “What if you both stop putting words in my mouth and ask me what it is I want?”

“Well...what do you want?” Castiel asked her.

She turned to him and, once again, he felt breathless. He always thought the saying was arbitrary considering angels took the form of normal human beings, but (Y/N) truly had the face of an angel.

“I want you, Cas.”

He was almost convinced that he had imagined her saying that.

“But I want you to be the one to ask me. I want you to ask me, to take me out on a date. I want you to get to know me, and I want to get to know you. She turned to Dean to add, “Next time you find out someone has feelings for me, tell me so we can avoid this whole awkwardness. Idjits.”

And then she walked away, leaving both men shocked and speechless.

~~~~~~

A few days later, (Y/N) found a note saying for her to meet the sender in a nearby park. She followed the directions and found a picnic waiting for her. Castiel was stood next to it, fidgeting with nervousness.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hello,” he responded. “Um...sit?”

(Y/N) chuckled and sat on the blanket. Castiel sat across from her and passed her a paper plate to put her food on. As he started to unwrap what he had brought for their romantic picnic date, familiar smells rose into the air. (Y/N) breathed in deeply, a small smile forming on her face.

“How’d you know all my favorite foods?” she asked.

“I asked Sam and Dean,” he said. “I wanted to get as much of your favorite things as I could, so I got them to tell me all the food you like, what you like most to drink, your favorite alcohol.” He gestured to the bottle of wine he had placed in a bucket with ice to keep it cold. “Although they told me it’s illegal to drink in public.”

“Only if we get caught. And it’s pretty dead here. Although, I will say, I’m shocked that you were okay with Dean talking about me at all. You didn’t smite him with the power of God or whatever, did you?”

Castiel grimaced at her sarcasm. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry for that.”

She took a bite of some food and took a long while to chew it. In all honesty, she was kind of flattered that Castiel liked her so much he felt so jealous over her friendship with Dean. Of course, there never was and never would be anything romantic between (Y/N) and either of the Winchester brothers, but Castiel must’ve missed that memo.

“I’m less offended by the fact that you didn’t talk to me about my feelings and more so offended by the fact that you thought I could ever like Dean,” she said instead. “I mean, come on, I can do much better than that.”

Castiel shrugged. “Dean is a nice person. You’ve known him for a long time, you get along really well. I don’t know why you wouldn’t like him.”

“That’s not how romantic feelings happen, Cas. You could know someone your entire life and never once feel a single romantic feeling towards them, and then you could know someone for just a few months and feel like you’re on top of the world every time that person looks at you. Time means nothing in these situations.”

That’s how Castiel felt for (Y/N). He felt like he was flying high every time she was around; like they were the only two people in the world. Sometimes he wished they were so that it would be easier to be around her and not act like an idiot.

He decided to veer away from the topic and get to the actual point of the picnic. “Tell me about yourself.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

She chuckled. “Everything is a long story.”

“I have infinite amount of time.”

He makes me feel like a teenager again, (Y/N) thought to herself.

“Okay, well the basics are pretty simple: only child to a loving couple of high school sweethearts. When I was five they both died in a car accident, I was taken in by my Aunt Frances and my Uncle Harry who were both hunters. They kind of scarred me with horror stories before bedtime instead of fairytales, but I guess that’s what I needed since all of that shit is real. They didn’t want me to become a hunter, but when I was 10 years old we were attacked in our home by a spirit and they realized I needed to know how to defend myself. Ever since then, I was a hunter.”

“Not when I met you,” Castiel pointed out. “When Dean asked you to join us, you said you were trying to have a normal life. You said you were done with hunting.”

She was impressed that he remembered. “Trying is the keyword. The thing is, there’s no such thing as ‘normal’ once you’ve been introduced to the supernatural. Once you know those things exist, and, in turn, those things know you exist, there’s no getting away from them. I knew that, which was why I did take Dean up on his offer to join you guys. Because I know, no matter what, I will never have a normal life ever again. This is what I’ll always be.”

She smiled to herself. “There’ll definitely be no normal if I start dating an angel.”

Castiel didn’t seem to understand, which wasn’t abnormal at this point. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and threw a piece of food at Castiel. “It was a joke, Cas.”

“But it’s the truth,” he said. “It won’t be normal to be in a relationship with me. I mean...technically, it’s against angel code for us to be together at all.”

(Y/N) tilted her head. “Then why are we here, Cas?”

“Because...” He trailed off. He was looking down at his lap, trying to find the words, but when he looked up at (Y/N) again, everything he wanted to say came out so flawlessly. “Because sometimes, you meet someone who is worth breaking the rules for. And you’re definitely worth breaking the rules for.”

(Y/N) felt her heart racing and a warming sensation running through her body. Before she could think of what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed Castiel. It was a quick, almost hesitant kiss since she wasn’t sure what his reaction to it would be.

“Was that okay?” she asked. She almost felt embarrassed to ask. Now she really felt like a teenager again.

In response, Castiel leaned forward to kiss her again. This time, it was more certain. This was what both of them wanted. They wanted to be with one another, no matter what the so called “angel rules” were.

(Y/N) pulled away first, resting her forehead against Castiel’s. Her smile was so wide that her cheeks were hurting a little bit. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’d like to do that more often,” Castiel said.

(Y/N) giggled. “You can kiss me all you want back at the bunker. Wherever you want, too. And I’ll kiss you wherever you want me to kiss you.”

Now this was a proposition that Castiel understood.

Within a matter of seconds, they had packed up the picnic and were heading back towards the bunker, giddy with excitement for what was to come.