#batboysweek

Bat Boys Appreciation Week - Day 2: Young Bat Boys 🖤

For today's prompt, we wanted to do something that included all 3 of the bat boys. While looking for ideas, we came across art from @/tonyviento that had all 3 of them at their current ages and looking hot (reference here) 🔥 We fell in love with the idea of taking that same general pose and turning it into them in their younger years growing up and training in Illyria!

@/thiaperezart took that idea and made this adorable art of younger Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, and we couldn't love it more! We absolutely adore all the little ways she conveyed their individual personalities, while also showing the unbreakable brotherly bond these 3 will forever share 🖤

You can find our Instagram post here!

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Co comm wirh @saraannereads 🫶🏼

Characters by Sarah J Maas

Art by Instagram @/thiaperezart

For @batboysappreciationweek ✨

@batboysappreciationweek Day Six — Jan 17th

𝑺𝒐𝒍𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: me once again not naming reader's and Rhysand's children, or Cassian's and Nesta's daughter — oopsies. Also forgot my original plan halfway through, so there's probably a couple inconsistencies

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.2K

“Happy birthday, Feyre.” You murmured with a soft smile, giving your dear friend a one armed hug, as the other arm was cradling an infant. Your daughter. 

She offered a small smile, carefully returning the hug, her free hand coming up to caress your daughter's cheek gently. “Thank you. . . I hope you and Rhys didn't do too much this year.” 

You gave her a knowing look and hummed softly, the twinkling fae lights glimmering in your eyes like captured starlight. “We did what you asked. Nothing elaborate. I promise.” You smiled, hearing the three Illyrian males arrive from their traditional Solstice escapades. 

“Where's your son?” Feyre asked after a few moments of silence, finally pulling away from the hug to look at you. 

“The last I saw, Elain took him to decorate the sugar cookies.” You replied with an air of amusement, just as the door opened. Rhysand kicked the snow off his shoes at the door before entering, heading straight for you. 

“Ah, two of my favorite ladies right here.” He crooned, cupping your cheeks with his cold hands, making you shiver slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Happy Solstice, darling.” He muttered against your lips.

“Happy Solstice, Rhys.” You murmured in return, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you pulled back and gave him a look. 

“Go warm your hands up.” Your gaze traveled to Azriel and Cassian next. “All three of you. Now. . . We'll open gifts once the three of you are warm, and once the kids are finished decorating cookies with their Aunt Elain.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Rhys smirked, kissing your forehead and your daughter's before he sauntered off with Cassian and Azriel following close behind. 

You watched in amusement as Cassian slipped into the kitchen, presumably to check in on the progress of the cookies, and snag a couple to hold over until the large dinner you helped prepare.

Within minutes, every male in the house was beckoning everyone to the living room. . . Well, every male except Azriel and Lucien. 

When you entered, Rhysand was practically holding your son back from the large pile of presents where he could clearly see his name written on several gifts wrapped in shimmering blue paper. 

Cassian and his daughter looked just as excited, Nesta's pointed look being the only thing that was keeping both her husband and daughter from pouncing on the gifts beneath the thoroughly decorated tree. 

“Uncle Lucien to the rescue.” The male with fire-red hair hummed quietly as your daughter reached her tiny, chubby hands towards him. 

You passed her over to him with a small smile, listening as he quietly spoke to her, declaring himself as the favorite uncle. A title he and Cassian were unknowingly fighting over. 

You quickly settled on Rhysand's lap. The arm that wasn't actively being used to hold your son back, wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed gently against your shoulder. 

“Release the terrors.” He murmured in amusement as he finally let your son go, the boy immediately going for the gifts marked with his name.

You laughed softly and Cassian snorted, standing from the couch just in time for his daughter to slide to a stop in front of her gifts that were wrapped in silver, marked with her name. 

The two older children began tearing into the presents, Cassian going around and distributing the other wrapped gifts to the adults in the room, before settling back on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the couch with his fingers tracing lazy circles on Nesta's shoulder. 

Azriel sat in an armchair, watching the scene with love for the two excited children swirling in the depths of his hazel irises. The corner of his lips twitched imperceptibly, threatening a smile when your son's gasp of glee met his ears, followed quickly by the squeal of excitement from the girl. 

They had both opened his gifts at the same time.

Rhysand let out a low whistle when your son held the gift up towards you and your mate, flashing a bright grin as if he had just won the jackpot. 

He may as well have. 

Both children got daggers that were currently fake, but they would shift to be the real deal as their skills improved. The gift had been cleared with both sets of parents, several times before they were even purchased. 

“What do you say to your uncle Azzie?” You mused, flashing a grin at the Shadowsinger who momentarily looked annoyed at the use of the nickname, before both children yelled out thank you's. 

It didn't take long for the children to open their gifts. The completion of that part then prompted the adults to open their gifts. 

You hid a smirk as you knew the chaos that was about to ensue when the Illyrian males opened the gifts from you, Feyre, and Mor. 

Mor hid her grin behind the mug of spiked eggnog she was sipping on, while Feyre was struggling to hold back a laugh. 

“The three of you have to open these ones together.” You tapped the bottom box in Rhysand's lap that was wrapped in red, as you shifted to sit on the floor, somewhere between Feyre and Mor, to watch the moment from the best seat in the house. 

Identical boxes sat in Cassian's and Azriel's laps. 

Rhysand raised his eyebrows and shifted the boxes so the one on the bottom of his pile was now on top.

You and your two closest friends watched with bated breaths as they opened the gifts. 

It was amusing to watch their reactions shift from confusion to shock, and then amusement or, in Azriel's case, a look that screamed ‘what did I do to deserve this?’

You couldn't hold back your laughter as Rhysand and Cassian held up what had been in the boxes, Azriel reluctantly following behind with a sigh. 

Each male held up a pair of identical black lounging pants, though each pair was different in their own way. Each pair had their names on the ass in silver glitter. 

Cassian set down his three unopened gifts and practically ran out of the room, returning a few minutes later, proudly wearing the pants that had been gifted to him. 

You laughed harder, your legs subconsciously crossing as you leaned up against Mor's chair, so you didn't fall over. 

“Yeah, jokes on you little Miss High Lady, I love them.” Cassian struck a pose, pointing at you. Practically the whole room bursted out into laughter. 

“Good!” You managed to get out as you finally began to calm down. “Oh, gods.” You chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from your cheeks. 

“I'll give you your gift later.” Rhysand announced casually with a sly smirk in your direction.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach involuntarily, though you raised your eyebrows, your gaze subtly shifting between your two children, before your attention landed back on your mate. 

“Ah. . . The gift that keeps on giving.” You laughed softly. 

His smirk broadened; Cassian let out a low whistle. 

One Solstice a few years back, that very same gift resulted in the conception of your son. . . The same gift on Starfall the year prior resulted in the conception of your daughter.

So it was, indeed, the gift that kept on giving. 

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓑𝓪𝓽 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴!

Day Seven: Free Day/AU

"I'm going to give him an offer he can't refuse."

Have you ever imagined the Bat Boys as Mafia Members/ Wise Guys á la the Godfather? If not, now you have! Leave the Siphons, take the cannoli. 🇮🇹 🔫

I had some much fun working on this piece with the lovely @azeher_may . May is a delight to work with and I recommend working with her always! I am blown away with the grayscale and color pop vision she brought to life.

for: @batboysappreciationweek !

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you” Sun to Me

Song by Zach Bryan

I've adored this song for a while, and I was ecstatic when my friend @saraannereads asked me to create an Azriel piece inspired by these lyrics. It was definitely a great challenge to create something outside my comfort zone of stained glass, but I'm very proud of myself. This one, hands down, is one of my favorites, and it's thanks to Sara that I had the confidence to create this piece. 🥰

Azriel is shown in his sparse room basking in the sunshine represented as jasmine (Elain). Azriel is purposely drawn in black and white, only having color where the sunshine touches his skin. A single ray of sunlight highlights Azriel's nightstand, which displays the gifts Elain has given him the past two winter solstices.

Throughout the books, we've seen glimpses of Elriel moments that focus on dark and light themes. In connection to the song, Elain grows flowers and life in the darkest places in Azriel. She brings peace and joy in Azriel's life, and honestly, vice versa. We wanted to capture Azriel smiling while he basked in the colorful rays of light that represented Elain.

Art by me, Rae2Velaris

All characters belong to SJM

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court for @batboysappreciationweek

🖤🦇 𝐁𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 🦇🖤

We’re so excited to finally share with you the prompts for the first ever Bat Boys Appreciation Week! Let us know below which you’re most excited for 🖤

✨ January 12-18, 2025 ✨

➢ Rules will be posted at a later date but are pretty simple.

➢ Breakdowns of each prompt will be posted soon.

➢ Please help us spread the word of celebrating our bat boys!

➢ You can also find us on Instagram here.

We’d also like to thank those that shared their ideas with us 🌌

Art by @cinnibelle ✨

@batboysappreciationweek Day Five — Jan 16th

𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 & 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒔

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 725

Rhysand stared at the pictures lining the walls, each one projecting a moment that was deemed worthy of capturing forever. 

From your first Solstice together, all the way to the very moment you were officially reunited after the events Under the Mountain.

His violet gaze raked over one particular frame, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he traced the faces within with a delicate touch that, to this day, would have Cassian making jokes about him ‘going soft’.

But they were just jokes, as Cassian truly had no room to talk. Not when his wife and daughter ruled his whole life. 

In the picture, Rhysand traced your face first, outlining the way your hair fell and the curve of your cheeks as you smiled — the arches of your brows as you looked at him, rather than the camera. 

He was looking at you too. He was always looking at you.

His touch trailed further down, caressing the swirling tattoo that ran up your arm, until he reached the curve of your abdomen. His lips upturned into a genuine smile, and it was nearly a grin as he traced the visible bump that was hidden beneath the deep purple gown.

Rhysand's gaze flickered over to himself — to the child in his arms. His son. Your son. He traced his small head of messy black hair and the tiny Illyrian wings on his back; the glass of the frame was cool against his fingers. 

His eyes lingered on the four of you. You. Him. Your son. And the bump, that had ended up being his daughter. His precious little girl. 

Then the violet depths traveled to the other family members in the picture, and he couldn't help but chuckle. 

Knelt on the ground before you was Feyre and Cassian, each grinning broadly at the camera, pointing to your rounded stomach with both hands. 

Mor sat between them with a smile, an open bottle of Rhysand's fine wine in one hand, a glass of it in the other, the rim of the crystal wine glass stained with her deep red lipstick.

Nesta could be seen in the background with an exasperated expression as she stared at her sister and mate, a little girl that was practically the carbon copy of Cassian nestled safely in her arms. The girl was just a year younger than your son. 

Azriel stood off to the side, his arms crossed, though he wore a fond smirk, his gaze locked on you and Rhysand simultaneously. 

Elain and Lucien were tucked away in the corner, observing the scene with a mix of amusement and adoration.

Rhysand chuckled once again, his hand slowly dropping back to his side. 

The picture was only a few months old. It meant everything to him. You, his children — the friends he picked up along the way that became the most important people in his life. Strangers that became friends, and eventually, family. His family. His heart. His soul. His court. 

Tiny feet padding against the hardwood floor, running right for him, grabbed his attention. He turned just in time to see his son running right for him with a bright smile, giggles falling from him.

That smile. Oh, that smile was every bit of Rhysand. But those eyes? Those were your eyes. And every day he saw your eyes on his son, he loved them even more. 

Rhysand swept the giggling boy up into his arms and kissed his cheek, just in time for you to round the corner with a soft, yet tired, smile and a three month old cradled to your chest. 

The baby's wings fluttered and twitched slightly in her sleep, soft coos falling from her tiny, parted lips as she slept comfortably in her mother's arms. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked softly, so as to not wake the baby. 

Rhysand looked at you with the utmost love in his eyes. Stunning. You were stunning. Even exhausted with baby drool on your clothes, you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen. 

He gently wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Everything's perfect.” He whispered, his gaze going right back to the picture of his chosen family — the family he didn't know he needed until he had it. “Absolutely perfect.”

@batboysappreciationweek Day One — Jan 12th

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒑𝒚𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: heavily implied Azriel x Reader if that's really even a warning

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 587

The sun sat high over Velaris, the summer heat beating down on the many fae below, each going about their daily routines in the streets that were alive with music and a wide array of fae culture, just as it usually was.

Young children running amongst the stone streets while the Sidra glimmered, casting reflections of the ripples of water on any surface it could reach — the true heart of the hidden City of Starlight. 

From where the very few spectators sat, they could see beads of sweat dripping down ripped planes of golden-brown skin, glistening in the midday sunlight like tiny diamonds above inky black tattoos. 

It was quiet up at the House of Wind, save for the grunting of the two Illyrian males sparring in hand to hand combat, showing off their vastly different fighting styles. While both were clearly calculated, Azriel's movements held a bit more grace and stealth than Cassian's.

From time to time, cobalt and ruby siphons would catch in the light and you couldn't help but smirk as wisps of shadows danced at your feet, crawling up your legs as if to say ‘look at him!’ — oh, you were certainly looking, alright. 

With Rhysand locked in his office for a day, discussing trade deals, you were free to watch. 

And gods, was it a show. . . Dirt and rocks being kicked up, the sound of solid hits and grunts, the beating of massive membranous wings as they casted shadows on the ground — you could practically hear their heavy breathing and see the drops of sweat falling from their bodies into the dirt from where you sat. 

You couldn't look away. If you did, sure you'd likely catch Nesta staring at her mate like she was a starving lioness and he was a piece of meat being dangled in front of her cage, her book having been abandoned the moment the males shed their shirts.

But if you looked away, you would've missed the slight smirk that fell onto Azriel's face when he glanced over for a split second, just barely long enough to catch your eye before he was focused on sparring with Cassian once again.

It was undoubtedly quite the sight to see.

The two males sparring, training to stay in tip top shape in case a mission was thrown onto them. In case they had to defend their mates, their home, or their friends at a moment's notice. 

As breathtaking and arousal inducing as it was to watch from the sidelines, it was undoubtedly dangerous. Centuries of training and fighting — a lethal dance of pure power and strength unfolding right before your eyes. 

Even when both males decided to call the end of training for the day, and Azriel approached with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, you could still feel the raw power.

Even when his scarred hands cupped your cheeks and his face drew close to yours with sweat dripping from his brow as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, you could feel the thrum of power in his veins alongside the consistent hum of the bond. 

And that intense look that seemed to permanently cloud his perfect hazel eyes, spoke every word his mouth couldn't even begin to formulate. 

Every early morning training session that sometimes carried over until lunch. Every mission. Every ounce of work that took him away from you, whether it be hours, days, or even weeks. . . It was for his heart. His home. His family. 

For you.